Notes: This started off as a vent, and turned into some sweet little one-shot.
Disclaimer: Resident Evil belongs to Capcom.
Word Count: 1,294
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It was surprising how fast someone could fall in love with another person in as short a time as a year. You realize this one moment, and the next moment, they're gone. Dead, to the horrors of the world. Those horrors namely being those infected by viruses that turn them into disgusting creatures that care about nothing more than the destruction of human life. The destruction of everything good and pure.
Piers had been the third purity in his world, but he couldn't save him, and he was corrupted. Getting in contact with Jill had been his first priority after that. He wanted to keep her safe, if nothing else. He wouldn't let another love in his life be taken away from him.
He married Jill in 2015. It wasn't a big wedding, but it was a fancy one – Jill and Claire planned it. Barry was his best man, serving as a substitute for what Piers could have been. But if Piers were alive, Chris most likely wouldn't have been getting married.
A year later, Jill gave birth to a baby boy, which Chris was able to name Piers – a tribute to his favorite soldier. He was born healthy, and he was perfect. (Although he'd later grow up to be diagnosed with ADHD).
Chris would think about his deceased soldier, but not as often now that he was married and had a child.
But four years later, he had a nervous breakdown in the privacy of his bedroom. Luckily Jill and little Piers were staying with Claire just for fun, so they didn't have to witness the incident.
He had been thinking about Piers' death, and bringing the thoughts back as quickly as he did pushed him over the edge.
He curled up on his bed and he cried for god knows how many hours (but it had only been one). He remembered Piers and everything they did during their time in Edonia and China. He remembered their little trysts in dilapidated buildings. He remembered that time Piers and he were almost court-marshaled by their superiors for being caught touching and kissing during an important mission.
Chris cried because he could have saved him if he weren't so concerned with keeping his own ass safe from Haos. Piers wouldn't have injected himself if Chris were more cautious. Piers would still be here, and he'd be there now for Chris, to calm him during this breakdown.
"Chris," a familiar voice called to him softly.
He was hallucinating, of course he was. However, when he pulled his hands away from his face, and wiped away his tears to see who had called him, he wanted to pull out the pistol he kept in his nightstand and end his life.
"Chris," the image's voice was quieter this time, and it kneeled in front of Chris to wipe away stray tears. It was terrifying how solid and warm and real the fingers felt against his face. This realization had the tears sliding down his cheeks again.
"Piers..." Chris lifted a hand up to the hand that was caressing his face. "I've missed you."
"I know. But that's no reason to cry, Captain," he smiled, and this feature – that beloved smile he had – was blurred slightly. "I'll always be with you."
Chris shook his head at this. "You're dead. That's not possible."
"I've watched everything you've done, Chris, of course it's possible. I was there for your wedding, and the birth of your child. I'm here now because you need me most," Piers' ghost was now sitting on the bed next to him, as Chris remained lying on the bed.
"Why'd you wait until now to show yourself?"
"Chris," the apparition – Piers – seemed to laugh. "I'm a ghost. I can't just appear.
"I need energy to feed off of. Strong emotional energy. Your emotional energy happens to be strongest when you're upset like this," a transparent, tangible hand brushed over Chris' shoulder.
"Marrying Jill was one of the happiest days of my life; you should've been there – I should've seen you," Chris sniffled, trying to contain his tears.
"I decided not to show myself. It was a happy moment for you, and I didn't want my sudden appearance to hurt you. I hope you can understand my reasoning. I just...I don't know, Chris. It just wasn't the time nor place to show myself."
"I understand," his voice was hoarse, but his tears had ceased. "Ghosts are forced to roam the earth until their regrets are solved. That's what I've heard. What are you regretting?"
Piers sat there, fussing with the hem of his tee. Chris shifted onto his back, about to touch Piers' arm, before the ghost spoke. "The same thing you are: my death. I wanted to stay alive for you. But I freaked out, and all rational thinking was out of sight. The only thought I had was, "Get him out of there." I wanted to go with you in that pod, but at that point, I knew I was too far gone to be saved. I had to sacrifice myself.
"I want to know if you've forgiven me for that, Chris. I want to know that you can move on and be proud of what I did," Piers buried his face in his shemagh, attempting to hide his emotions (Piers never liked to show his emotions, because it was practically preached to him by his father and grandfather that it was a sign of weakness).
"Piers," Chris sat up from where he was, and wrapped an arm around the ghostly man. "What you did was good, don't deny that. You saved the world from Haos."
"Haos wasn't the end. Isn't the end."
"You're right, but he was the biggest threat at the time, and you eliminated him successfully," Chris pulled the ghost closer to him, and he was still greatly surprised by the fact that a ghost could provide any sort of warmth.
"Chris, I want you to promise me that you'll get over my death. I don't want you to let it bother you ever again," Piers leaned into Chris, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever get to be this physically close to the man. "Do you promise?"
"I promise, but it won't happen overnight. I'll need time."
"You'll always have time. But I'll never be at peace until you come to terms with the fact that I'm dead. So the sooner the better," being a ghost was painful, but no ghosts ever told anyone that.
"As soon as I can, Piers," Chris whispered, and the tears began to form again. "Would one more kiss be too much to ask for?"
Piers smiled and brought his face next to Chris', only an inch away, and whispered back, "Of course not," he pressed his ghostly lips to Chris' in a chaste kiss. When he pulled away, his body was exactly as it was when he died: mutated and grotesque.
"I forgot to mention that most of the energy went toward looking attractive for you. I only have a few more moments before I disappear again," Piers stood up from the bed, his left hand clasped tightly in Chris' right, and he walked toward the door. As he did, he became more and more transparent, and as he let go of Chris' hand, he was gone completely.
"Don't forget what you promised," Piers' voice spoke softly, before it was gone for good.
Piers was at peace six months later, on the day Chris visited his grave with a dozen flowers. "I kept my promise, Piers."