A/N: I was bored, and did this on the fly...I don't own Resident Evil.


Pure Insanity

After the events the events that took place in that hellhole of a forest, they ran away together to gather any sort of wit that they may have had...staying at Berry's house. Together, they could survive. It was what they thought, what Jill had prayed to be true.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

The water was freezing, but at least it was clean. They knew that because they used a particular method to purify their water. Using a mix of sand and coal, they dumped their water into the large trash can filled with the substances, letting it drain slowly into an empty container...then they boiled it. That's what they used to drink, and to wash...still, the water was used sparingly so it wouldn't go to waste.

She scrubbed hard, but it wasn't enough to calm her. She still saw pink on her hands where blood had once been. She could smell the sicking air as it became tainted with the smell of death. With a shiver, and a curse she had all but tried to drown herself in the small pot she was given. It had cooled over night. "I should have used it when it was warm." Even though she said it, and knew it to be true, she couldn't help herself.

She'd passed out in the corner, she'd been so tired.

It wasn't that she felt safe, but rather, that she'd felt exhausted. They had to get out of the city, but there was more to do before they even had a chance to try. She nearly gagged, the bile creeping up her throat when she thought about that. Before she knew it, she heard a knock on the door. "Jill, I'm coming in." Chris, his worried voice came through crystal clear. Defeated, she didn't try to stop him, though she did cover her breast from his view, looking down at herself in shame. "Hey, are you alright?" He wasn't looking at her, but even so, he could tell something was wrong.

"Yeah." It was a quiet whisper. "I'm alright."

"Shaken but not stirred?" He asked, a sick joke perhaps, but still very true none the less.

"You can come in." She told him, trying to find her composure. "It isn't anything you haven't seen before."

His stern eyes met hers as he allowed himself the chance to actually look at her. At first, he was just concerned about her well being, but now, he was worried about for more than just how she was holding up. He was worried about the defeated look in her eyes. The same one the entire team had. Berry's eyes were the same, but Barry was the type of man to be destroyed by the events at hand. Jill was another matter. He expected more from her, he wanted to pretend he didn't see it.

The broken look that sat dormant in her eyes, rested upon her shoulders, and even made her weary voice sound gone entirely.

"You're supposed to be the hard ass." He told her, trying to see if he couldn't at least provoke her. He came in, shitting the door behind him. She was still covered in splashes of color...blood was a tint that would take a bit to fade entirely...especially after it stayed dried on for days beforehand. "What happened to the tough woman I used to know?"

"She died." Jill found herself saying, regretting it, even while doing it. "She died in the manor, she's just not a mangled corpse yet." Her eyes drifted to the gun that was on the table. "It would be so easy, Chris." She told him in a quiet murmur, grasping onto the shirt that had to be from Berry's own closet. "So damn easy...in fact, that I think it would maybe even be better than trying to escape."

Her mind wouldn't find ease, and frazzled, her breath deepened. She knew what it was like, lusting after a teammate...wanting to be taken advantage of...any pain from that would at least make her feel alive again...it would shun away the feeling of death's grip. This man wouldn't tear into her, like a starving beast...and yet, even if he nipped at the nape of her neck, she would trust him to do it...she would let him, and murmur his name once again.

At least his embrace was warm. His fingers were soft, his voice a deep comfort...

It wasn't like the wailing moans outside. He could never be like boney fingers of a mindless monster grasping at her. That was a shadow he could push away, if only he held her. She could breathe easy, as long as he was there. Afraid of herself, of what she might do, what she could do, she clutched onto him. A need she never realize she had welled up into her heart, and though she wasn't one for crying, a stray tear slipped from her eyes.

She was scared, so very, very scared.

The monsters under her bed had been real this time. She'd blown them away one bullet at a time, but they were still out there. Every window was a danger, every door a trial by fire...every empty room a mixed blessing. She couldn't look at the world the same anymore, not even the bathtub, even if it was filled with clear water. That monster was still there. She might not have seen him, but in her mind, he was still there...waiting to crawl out, spluttering and groaning as it's flesh dangled like soggy fruit, rotting off the vine itself. Even if the water was clear, he was still a ghost from her past now...a lingering nightmare waiting for her.

Even headless, even though she felt it cave under the weight of her own boot...in her mind, he may just walk again.

Each monster had a face, some even had a name. Some were like friends and family, and she could do nothing to stop herself as she pushed Chris into the wall. She needed to feel him, needed to burn away the images of what haunted her. "Please...please just make it stop." In a pained, helpless voice she found herself at the brink...this was worse than the terror itself. At least then, numbed by the actions she'd been forced to take...she didn't think.

Back then, all she had to do was shoot...now, oh now was different. It all made sense. It all had a meaning, a logic. She couldn't rationalize it, but it was all there in her head now, like a crystal ball filled with her memories. She recalled everything, vividly.

She tore at his clothes, and Chris let her. Pulling her naked body to him, he allowed her to claw away the fabric of his shirt in panicked rebellion, and he claimed her lips frenzied by her actions. They sunk onto the floor, a mess of emotions neither one of them dared to comprehend, still, he pulled away from her. This wasn't right. This was hard sex after a hard job...this wasn't love. "This is a moment of pure insanity, Jill." He warned her carefully.

"I don't give a damn anymore." It was a heated whisper, her order, her plea was enough. "It's either you or that gun, and I want you."