"There's more to being a hero than saving lives. Sometimes just to know the difference to lives saved…"
Chris stood at ease, trying not to look uncomfortable at the BSAA Press Event. It's difficult when standing before other agents and journals watching and flashing cameras, taking in every word that is being said. He could breathe a little easier when he spotted Sheva among the crowd. He wished that Jill was here as well, but she has to recover from her ordeal. Who knows what else she endured when Wesker placed that mind control device on her chest?
"Agent Redfield saw the worst of what mankind is capable of, in turn, he exerted the best."
He tilted his head to the direction his name is mentioned. Military ranked sergeant droning on with the ceremonial speech of recognition.
"Bravery, sacrifice, valor," the sergeant empathized every single word to inspire morale among the common grunts. "It is a great honor that I present this medal to Christopher Redfield with the gratitude of the nation and the world."
Applauses broke and shutters from cameras erupted all at once right on cue.
The sergeant took out a small black case and opened it, passing it to Chris's hands. Chris quickly glanced down at the small silver medal before closing it. The sergeant silently saluted and Chris followed suit for a long moment before breaking it. Chris nodded towards his higher-ranking officer as he stood before the podium to speak into the microphone.
"Thank you," he said, blinking from the lights as he tried to look beyond the crowd. His hands shook about the acceptance speech in his hands. "It is indeed an honor to accept this award…" He froze, imagining the word, 'Kijuju' written across the pages. Gulping, he continued, shuffling them and reciting from memory. It had to be his imagination, which was in the past and this is the present. "I would not be here…"
He blinked, lowering his head and gripping the podium by the sides, dropping the papers of his acceptance speech down the stage. Journalists selfishly stepped forward to snap more shots and ask questions. Sheva made her way pass them and gathered the pages, looking them over to find an answer. Nothing. Chris, what's going on? His face read of unspeakable fear, that alone worried her. Thankfully, the press event has ended. Sooner than planned.
"Good luck talking to him, Agent Alomar. Considering that you're his partner, maybe you can get something out of him. We couldn't get a solid answer out of him."
Chris sat in a chair out back, cradling a bottle of refrigerated water that he hasn't opened.
"Chris," Sheva said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" It was a stupid question to ask – of course, he's not! He suddenly blanked out in the middle of his speech. But what could she say without being sounding intrusive?
Chris touched her hand, his a little cold to the touch. "Everyone keeps asking me that and I told them: I'm fine." He shrugged it off, not looking at her. "I just had a little stage fright, that's all. It's nothing."
"It's nothing" She crossed her arms. "If it's just nothing then why can't you look at me and say that?"
His head jerked up to her. She can read the grief behind his built tough exterior, the sadness written in his cloudy blue eyes. He didn't repeat his sentence.
"Good, now that we can communicate better," she anxiously took out the acceptance speech from earlier. "What did you see in these?"
For a minute there, he looked like he was going to flinch and have another mental breakdown. He surprised her by grabbing the papers and scattering them across from him. "Nothing." He persisted with the lie, refusing to look at them.
"I hate it when you do this to me. What's wrong with you?"
Chris just studied her face silently before sighing. "I don't know what the Hell is wrong with me, Sheva…"