Author's Note: I'm already super behind because I decided to redesign the entire story like yesterday. Might be broken into a few parts, guys!
Chapter 2
A Good Plan Violently Executed Now Is Better Than A Perfect Plan Executed Next Week
-George S Patton
Chris had his head in his hands, elbows digging into the tops of his thighs as he sighed heavily. After gaining a paper cut by one of the stacks of paper he was moving from his desk, he realized just how far deep into shit he was. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a fucking dream. This was his life so now he sat in a bathroom stall with his head in his hands while his mind quickly began running out of options.
Chris thought of killing Wesker. The blond could be stopped if he didn't see it coming, of course, but what would that mean for Chris? His colleagues would catch him within days and he would be punished and Umbrella would continue on. Even if he could kill Wesker without his colleagues finding out, Wesker was their connection to Umbrella—his only connection. If he was going to take them down, Wesker needed to be alive; for now.
He could warn his colleagues but with no proof there was little to tell. Jill would prefer to see Chris fired than to even consider what he said and Barry wouldn't risk his job to back him with no evidence. Chris didn't blame him, of course, he would do the same.
There was only way of going about this—Treat it like he had lived it before. Use his knowledge to throw Wesker off his guard maybe outsmart him at his own game. If it was one thing Chris hated, it was playing one of Wesker's games but Chris could make it his now.
"Hey, Chris, you in here?"
It was Barry's voice echoing in the bathroom.
"Yeah, sorry, got distracted," Chris spoke simply as he pushed out of the bathroom stall.
"With what, exactly?" Barry asked with a chuckle.
Chris laughed and shook his head.
"I keep getting distracted with my thoughts. Like I said before, I miss Claire."
Barry chuckled and crossed his arms.
"Well, Captain has his demo today. You know how he is about those things."
Chris actually didn't remember them in the slightest. They simply didn't stand out in his mind and these demonstration classes seemed fairly new from the responses of the team as he and Barry arrived to the basement of the Raccoon City Police Department. It was a gym of sorts built specifically for the STARS team to practice. A room off to the right of the large room led to the shooting range used by the entire department and a room to the left led to the locker rooms. Wesker stood in front of blue cushioned pads on the ground covering a large area.
Joseph, Jill, and Brad were already awaiting Barry and Chris and it seemed Chris was actually the one holding them up.
Wesker gave an unappreciative smirk and hooked his hands behind his back at Chris' entrance beside Barry.
"Now that you've finally graced us with your presence, Redfield, we may begin. I appreciate you fetching him, Mr. Burton."
"'Course," Barry muttered with a nod before joining the group standing in front of Wesker.
Chris sighed and stepped forward beside Jill who growled under her breath and took a step closer to Joseph. Chris accepted the action and looked towards Wesker who noticed her movement but chose to ignore it.
"I called this demonstration due to Mr. Vickers' latest injury during our last mission-"
"Sorry, again, Captain," Brad muttered, interrupting the blond.
"Don't interrupt me, Vickers."
"Right, sorry."
"I would like to introduce the concept of concealed weapons."
"Concept? As if we didn't know people conceal weapons?" Jill asked, crossing her arms.
"I would apologize, however you certainly don't take the needed precautions you were trained to do when entering an insecure area so yes, I'm assuming the Alpha team cannot possibly comprehend the idea of concealed weapons. I don't believe I owe an apology. Redfield, step onto the mat, if you will," it wasn't a question, Chris knew that, so he did as he was asked concealing the glare he shot to the blond.
Chris stepped onto the padded material and immediately could recall this moment. This was the moment he ended up on his back with Wesker straddling him, a knife to his throat and both of his hands secured by the wrists with Wesker's right hand. Chris began to summon the experience he gained the past ten years of being in combat because he was going to prove Wesker wrong. This was the start of his plan, it had to be.
"I have a concealed weapon," Wesker stated simply.
Chris remembered- his shoe; Wesker's left shoe to be specific.
"Mr. Redfield doesn't know where the weapon is being held nor does he know what weapon it is."
Then it struck Chris- maybe the blond had another concealed weapon.
This better be impressive Chris thought to himself as Wesker turned on his heel and stepped onto the mat as well.
"I expect you are prepared?"
Chris gave a firm nod. Wesker was going to lunge as if the knife is in his sleeve but at the last second, he'll crouch and trip Chris in one swift movement.
Chris will have to avoid being tripped. He could do that- right?
Wesker smirked and began at him, his left hand dipping into his right sleeve just as Chris remembered it. His eyes, however, stayed on Wesker's left hand. That would be the hand to pull the knife out of his boot where it sat in wait.
Chris waited until the opportune moment and just when Wesker ducked down, Chris pounced over the blond completely and rolled on the safety of the mat. Wesker, by this point, had straightened, knife in hand, before turning on his heel. Chris, however, was already on the attack with his leg in the air ready to kick the knife from Wesker's grip. Wesker saw this, ducked, and attempted to repeat the attack by tripping Chris.
Chris tripped but rolled out of reach and quickly stood with a huff.
"Unexpected," Wesker muttered with raised eyebrows. His grey eyes sparkled in lights hanging above and he glanced to the group.
Chris ignored the blond and attacked, again aiming for the knife. Wesker, not expecting the attack, moved to switch the knife to his right hand but, instead, Chris knocked it out of the air and to the ground. It hit with a clatter just off the mat and slid several inches before stopping.
Chris straightened and sighed, catching his breath quickly. Wesker smirked and raised his hand to reveal the magnum in his left hand.
"Too late, Redfield, you're dead."
Chris sighed and stared at the blond for a moment. Chris saw that coming and he managed to fuck it up again.
"It was impressive nonetheless," Wesker stated.
It was a taunt, Chris could feel the smugness through the meaningless words.
"Yeah 'course it was," Chris muttered.
Chris returned to the group and avoided the harsh gaze by Jill. Barry pat him roughly on the back but, truly, it only stung more due to just how realistic everything was. His teammate's lives hung in the balance and if he was able to change things, he could save them all. He could even save Piers some time down the line because he had an advantage that nobody else had- not even the great Albert Wesker and that thought along put a smirk on his face.
Returning home that night was difficult for Chris. The brunet barely remembered where he lived let alone what was going to happen the following day and, to say the least, he felt panicked sitting in the passenger seat beside Wesker. He didn't speak- he didn't feel the need to speak. Chris had his mind on issues that were truly beyond him and questions swirled over and over in his mind. Everything from how did I even get here to am I really expected to relive the next sixteen years of my life to fix everything that's ever fucked up and he was slowly falling deeper and deeper into the hole he had somehow managed to avoid the majority of the day yet the moment he is sitting beside his enemy his mind suddenly wants to throw him into pits of self pity.
"You're quiet," Wesker stated simply eyes on the dark road in front of them.
Chris had to, unfortunately, rely on Wesker for a ride to retrieve his car to avoid any other awkward car rides with him and it was painful. Hell, even looking at the blond was painful because despite knowing exactly what was going on behind those beady grey eyes, Chris saw his old captain. The captain he put his life on the line for time and time again. The captain that did the same for him. The captain that Chris trusted more than anyone he had ever trusted before.
"Yeah, just thinking."
Chris couldn't respond more than that. He felt sick being so close to the man who fucked him over so harshly.
"Have you spoken to your sister recently?"
Chris' stomach twisted and he was sure this conversation never happened but he couldn't be sure at this point. But if he was truthful, he wasn't very sure about anything. He remembered things vaguely if at all and he just happened to recall them as they happened which sent him into a bad spiral of déjà vu that in turn made his head to spin. Maybe this was the reason why he was feeling sick, he mused as he fought an oncoming headache.
"No, I haven't, why?" Chris asked carefully hoping his sharp tone wasn't as apparent as he thought it was.
"I apologize, I know she is a rather sore subject-" Wesker trailed off and the silence returned.
Chris groaned internally letting out a sigh before turning his head towards the window to gaze at the night walkers of Raccoon City and the bright lights of the restaurants and stores that lines the streets. He enjoyed this town and felt a rush of guilt as he realized just how much he missed it. The people were caring, the town was compact, the businesses were homely and family run, and the most that ever really happened were pathetic drug busts on the edge of town in the abandoned warehouses or somewhere deep within the woods where most would never venture. There was rarely a murder or any real crime and when there were untrustworthy brutes making their way into town the police usually knew about it ahead of time and could take care of it themselves. STARS was quiet more often than not but they were also the ones called at four in the morning for a drug raid so it was a bit of a tradeoff, Chris assumed.
"She isn't a sore subject," Chris said. "I'm just tired."
"Right, the terror from last night."
"Yeah, it kept me awake most of the night. That's why I was running late this morning and why I'm snappy now. I just want to get my car, go home, and go to bed."
"Well, we are nearing the repair shop," Wesker assured him.
Chris didn't feel assured. He felt overwhelmed, lonely, desperate- nothing anywhere near assured.
"Yeah, thanks," Chris muttered dully.
Walking into his apartment was bittersweet. He half expected Jill to be waiting for him with a beer, a movie, and a story about some guy she was dating. Instead, he was doomed to step inside his dark living room alone possibly for a long, long time. This alone made him want to call his sister but it's not as if simply talking to her will do much besides bother her so he decided against it rather quickly.
Instead, he closed the door and sulked deeper into his living room. He sat on the sofa and glanced around in a melancholy sadness of sorts.
The room smelled the same. It smelled like his old apartment. It smelled like hope, passion, and good memories and despite the good feeling the smell was attempting to summon within him he just felt sick. It all felt wrong. Not because he had lived it before but because it didn't feel as it should possibly because he had no idea what reliving your glory years before things went to shit really was supposed to feel like. Was he supposed to be happy he got a second chance after he had already accepted everyone's deaths? Was he supposed to strive to save the world again and fall into the pit that was his mind when he failed?
That was rather unfair, he mused. How did he exactly know he was going to fail?
He dismissed the thought and sat back against the cool material of the couch allowing it to sink into his STARS uniform and cool his warm skin beneath the clothing. His head lulled back and he stared at the white blotched ceiling he remembered far too well.
Everything that had happened in his life had a reason behind it. Zombies took over Raccoon City because of a biological effect created by Umbrella- Giant mutated monsters were created out of it and from that came organizations fighting them. So what could possibly explain his getting sent back in time?
No biological virus to date had effect that made you hallucinate or anything really explainable, Chris was sure- Chris was painfully sure. His mind leaned back and forth at the thought of his entire life being a lie and instead simply being a drunken dream brought on by his guilt of skipping out on Jill and his 'déjà vu' was really just him convincing himself his life wasn't a lie. Then a rational part of him would chime in, of course, and say he remembered hurting, bleeding, being near death on more than one occasion and he remembered every moment of it. His life wasn't a broken messy dream- it was real. But this was also real.
For now, unfortunately, Chris would just have to live the life he already lived because without really knowing exactly what was happening, he couldn't exactly act accordingly and with no way of getting back- well, he was stuck.
Even with that thought, he couldn't help feeling guilty. All he wanted was out but, really, if what was happening was as real as it felt, he could save countless lives from Umbrella's mistake. Hell, at this point, he was the only one who could.
Despite having been the captain to the BSAA for several years, this was, to date, on the most stressful tasks he had ever had thrown at him and possibly would ever have thrown at him. This was assuming he made it out of whatever this was alive.
Chris awoke stiff and hungry curled on the couch the following morning. He seemed to have forgotten about food all day and hadn't even bothered taking off his uniform which was now twisted and choking him in his awkward sleeping position. Light was shining through the windows behind the couch and bouncing off of the television across from him. Above the television, the clock read sometime after six thankfully giving him some time to clean himself up and eat whatever he could find, really.
He pushed himself up with weak arms and yawned involuntarily as he inched off of the couch and into a standing position. His mouth was dry and sticky and his scalp itched for a shower. He made the decision mentally to take care of both issues after shutting off the light he had left on the night before. He yawned again and made his way to the bathroom to shed his clothes and step into the shower- after he figured out how to work it, of course.
The shower was refreshing and, much like everything around him, bittersweet. It awoke him to his reality of still being stuck in his STARS days when, even for five minutes, his sleep haze had blocked the thought from his mind and he was at peace. For a long moment, he just wished to have those five minutes back. To lay on the couch newly awake and unknowing of the horrors the days eventually to come would bring.
Chris dressed in his uniform, changing his white and green undershirt to one fresher and not recently slept in. He tossed his uniform jacket over his shoulder and moved his socked feet towards the kitchen. He made his way onto the linoleum floor but before he could step towards the fridge, the phone beside the couch rang.
Chris frowned and walked swiftly to pick it up, raising the receiver to his ear before speaking.
"Hello?"
"Chris! I'm glad I caught you before work!"
Chris' heart sank and he smiled to himself.
"Hey, Claire. It's been a while."
The words came out before he could really stop them. In his reality, he hadn't spoken to Claire in over a year. When he lost his memory, Claire went with it and he was missing for quite some time without her even knowing it. Then he was being thrown into another mission with Piers and when Piers died he lost all motivation to speak to anyone. Even Jill annoyed him at times but now he'd give anything for the brunet to talk to him again.
"It's only been a week," she laughed.
A week. Only a week. Chris suddenly wanted to return to his own reality if only to call his sister.
"W-Well, I worry about you," Chris gave a fake laugh to play off his own guilt.
"Spring break is coming up-"
"I was going to call you about that," Chris said, taking a seat on the couch.
"Did you not want me to come?"
"No, I wanted to invite you here. I thought maybe you would like to spend some time here?"
"Oh," Claire commented quietly.
Chris' spirits immediately fell at the disappointment in her voice. It was subtle but Chris knew his sister better than anyone. He wanted more than anything to spend time with the one person in this reality that could give him some sort of consolation but not at the expense of her happiness.
"But, you know, my place is small and you probably want to spend it with your friends," Chris said slowly. "I'm sure you wanted to spend it with one of your friends, anyway."
"Boyfriend, actually," Claire muttered.
Chris sighed heavily. He was never aware Claire had a boyfriend at this time. In fact, he specifically remembered Claire spending Thanksgiving with him and not saying a thing about it.
"Well, have fun then," Chris said his voice teeming with sarcasm and a bit of anger but none necessarily directed at Claire. He rubbed his eyes aggressively with his free hand and stood back up.
"Chris, I'm so-"
"No it's fine. I have work. I'll call you later," Chris muttered. "Love you." He didn't wait for a response before setting the phone back in it's place rather forcefully.
Chris wasn't as alone as he thought, he was aware. Even as he made his way back to the kitchen and began venturing through the fridge, his mind wandered to Barry. There was nobody he could exactly speak to about his issue but he could sure as hell treat Barry like the friend he was.
After several minutes of searching through cupboard, Chris gave up and simply pulled on his jacket, grabbed his keys, and went out the front door.
