"When you strike at a king, you must kill him."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Three weeks. It had taken him three weeks between his schedules with S.T.A.R.S. and the fact that things seemed to almost be going backwards with the "Tyrant" project to find time to get down to the lab to see William. He had barely managed to keep his farce of a relationship going with Claire. He had convinced her to use a doctor friend of his to get a blood pregnancy test and things had come back clear. They had set up a fixed schedule after that. Once a week he showed up and took her out somewhere to let her ask her laundry list of questions and he got to feed his obsession. The sex was still amazing and she was getting bolder. Not just in the bedroom either. The lies rolled off his tongue like a well-oiled machine. It was all the same stuff anyone could find if they looked in his file. So why did he not like the fact he couldn't share the rest of his world with her? Why did he want to show her the labs, tell her how the things that went bump in the night were real? Why did he pause every time he passed a jeweler's? He had no answer to these questions and that bothered him on a level just as deep as what was going on in his research.
Things had been getting interesting with the fame brought on by his successful navigation of a hostage situation in one of the downtown office buildings. He knew that it was a shell corporation for one of Umbrella's competitors and with the report he had managed to dig up using his contacts he was beginning to think he was not as far from Spencer's grasp as he had thought. The old man had his fingers in everything and there was only one man he could really trust, and he had been leaving messages on his machine every day now. Wesker adjusted his sunglasses as the elevator pinged open on the correct level for his friend's lab. He walked the five feet and punched in the code he had been given when the other man decided that this would be his personal lab. Wesker and William had maintained an open lab policy with the other, recognizing that it was more beneficial for the two of them to share ideas than it was for the two of them to work against one another. The blond was still in his work uniform, the creases coming unpressed from use. He was running on little more than caffeine and will power, a state that was normal for him when his considerable mind went to work on a complex problem, but it seemed the more he worked on this problem the more he appeared to be boxed in. He knew Spencer was using him for something here in Raccoon, that the man had plans for him-most likely some way to get him to come back into White Umbrella's research fold. He couldn't allow it to happen. William had given himself to that man in the way he wanted Wesker to and he had seen his friend's slow decent into mania and near isolation from the outside world.
"William?" Wesker asked as the door recessed into the wall to allow him entry. His nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air. Good lord, how long had William been down here? Surely, not since the first call on New Year's Eve? It was unlike Annette to not be down here with him making sure he was eating and bathing regularly. Or at the very least not in the midst of the disaster herself. There was a reason that she and William fit together so perfectly. The lab was a mess, so unlike the last time he had been down here. A frown creased his features at the sight of piles of computer printouts stacked haphazardly next to used lab equipment-only half of which seemed to be active with something. The techs who would have to come down and clean it would have to wear bio-suits and Wesker was determined to make sure that his friend left long enough for them to do their jobs. What had happened to set Birkin into such a frenzy? Had there been some kind of breach in security? Was that why he had called so urgently? There was a noise to his right and he whirled, fists raised to fend off an attacker.
"Are we enemies now, Albert?" a raspy voice asked and he relaxed his stance. He'd know that voice regardless of how dry and papery it became.
"Good Lord," he used the expression not because he believed in any higher power, but because it was the only way to express his surprise. Wesker firmly believed that the only God in this world was science and he gladly worshipped at that altar taking the power offered. "You look like shit." William, indeed, looked horrible. The rings under his eyes had darkened to the point it looked like he had black eyes, his hair was lank and unwashed, standing up from where he had repeatedly run his hands through it. He smelled like a combination of sanitizer and formaldehyde, which at least meant he was not going to have to report his friend as a potential breach in procedure and contamination risk. Birkin could get so absorbed in his work that procedure often meant little if anything to him, and Wesker always feared that one day such carelessness would lead to a biohazard in a facility.
"Hello to you, too," William said and rubbed his overly dry eyes. When was the last time he had something to drink? Or better yet, when was the last time he had slept? Working on the combination of his virus and the one Spencer had given him with the mounting pressure from corporate to just inject the other man with it already was taking its toll on his already somewhat unbalanced mind. He had all but run Annette out of his lab in order to protect her in the event something happened. The less she knew about his tinkering with Wesker's virus the better. Plausible deniability and all that. "Took you long enough," his hand twitched showing his index and ring finger briefly. Wesker had to fight to keep his eyebrows from rising. It was code, the code they had developed in order to be able to discuss things around other researchers or even Marcus. They hadn't bothered with it since the man had died and they had gone on their separate paths. The signal he gave meant there was someone listening to what they were saying. The fact that the code was back on top of Spencer sticking his fingers back into Wesker's career was unsettling and left him feeling like he had missed something somewhere. Wesker never missed anything. His hands clenched and unclenched briefly-the only sign of his frustration.
"What is this all about anyway?" the blonde man asked even as his hands danced seemingly in a meaningless gesture. Who? They asked.
"I heard things had started to go south with your T research," William offered even as his hands indicated one word: Umbrella. Wesker let his frown deepen apparently in response to his friend's words. Umbrella meant Spencer, seeing as the board was little more than a mouthpiece for the old man's desires. It was pathetic how they feared the frail creature of a man. Wesker often thought about just pushing him out the window in his overly ornate mansion, but not even he could mount that kind of assault without repercussions.
"I take it you have some ideas?" he asked tightly. He gave the signal for why, a sweeping gesture that seemed to indicate the other man should continue.
"Have you ever heard of the super solider project? It took place during the darkest hours of World War II. Most people don't even realize that the allies had their own section of human research going on, preferring to leave that sort of human tragedy to Nazi Germany. Few bother to realize that eugenics began in the United States," the bright light in William's eyes was not faked. The records Spencer had sent him were eye opening to say the least. Wesker's father had been brilliant and his understanding of the underlying virus that had given birth to both T and now his own G was beyond his time. The man had been limited only in that technology had not caught up with his mind. But he knew that look in his friend's eyes. He needed to know what he had, why Umbrella was monitoring him, and he knew that if he came out with the real reason why Wesker would have nothing to do with it. So, he was going to have to play his friend as only he could.
"But you don't want a lecture," Birkin said indicating Wesker should follow him. "I came across something interesting while going through the Umbrella archives." He gestured to a complex chemical formula that was displayed on the computer screen. Wesker studied it with the intensity of a man looking at a particularly vexing piece of art. It was brilliant. It used the base, the original virus as discovered elsewhere, to modify the human genetic code. It wasn't designed like T to bring back the dead-T's weapon capabilities were an accident in an attempt to discover immortality- nor was it like G which was designed cover the near instant rot problem. G would hopefully make it so that the standard infected would last longer by giving them the ability to heal from their injuries. It looked like it took the basic human strengths and built on them. There was something else though-an extra set of chemical code that made no sense in the make-up. It was almost like it was tacked on last minute and while the bonds were real their purpose eluded him.
"It hasn't been tried, William. It has holes that I can see here and here," Wesker pointed out as he touched the screen. The other man leaned and was surprised that his friend had caught a place he hadn't bothered to look before. That would make things easier with what he hoped to add.
"It's a start. It might help with the problem of G's wild mutation levels," William offered. "But you know what my problems are." He was taking a risk here. If Wesker didn't offer he was going to have to add his modifications and take his chances randomly injecting the man with it hoping he survived the encounter. The blonde frowned as he realized what William was implying. If he found some way to make this virus operational and Umbrella knew about it, which it would if he asked for test subjects, he would end up dead upon completion like Marcus. He needed some way out of Spencer's web. He could take this and the research he had from T to a competitor and he would be untouchable. He trusted that the other man would not give it to him if there was a chance for death or failure, and the idea of the kind of power that would give him… No one would ever be able to back him into a corner like this again. He would be the one doing the backing from now on. He would be able to get his due.
"I'll see if it has any application for T," Wesker said giving the hand sign for agreement. William rubbed his hands together and offered a real smile to his friend. Wesker sat on the single office chair not covered in paperwork and rolled up his sleeve even as Birkin prepped the needle. He would do everything in his power to keep his friend from regretting this. One of them would get out and the joke would be on Spencer.
Orzwell Spencer glared at the male nurse as he went about getting his bath ready. This was beyond degrading to someone of his stature. He was Lord Orzwell Spencer, cousin to the Queen of England, multi-billionaire, most feared man in the pharmaceutical industry. But his body was failing him as it had since the day he was born. His problem was not a disease, but an ailment that all mankind fell prey to: old age. His looks had been the first to go, followed by his strength. Thankfully, his mind had managed to remain intact, though it would hardly do him any good if the boy would not complete his purpose. When he had been approached by Alexander and Marcus all those years ago about some flower in Africa it had been with the promise that this would never happen to him. He would never grow old. He would become immortal and along with his power and influence a God. The two scientists had professed only a desire to further society with their research. But then Alexander Wesker had screwed him over-taking off as soon as he figured out the cure. Sure, the man had faked his death and Albert's mother had bought it hook, line, and sinker. The only comfort Spencer had was the fact that he had gotten to Albert first.
Spencer's eyes flashed in the bathroom lighting as the male nurse started to help him with his clothes. He had not believed the reports about Alexander's death and had taken the few remaining members of his team-the rest had died in the fire that killed the researcher and destroyed almost all the work on the virus-and hidden them deep in the bowels of white Umbrella demanding that they reconstruct it. None of them were close to the genius Alexander or his son was, and it had taken them close to twenty-five years to get it right. Or at least they thought it was. They claimed that it would likely taken a series of injections over time to work like what Alexander had been doing with the Wesker Children. Spencer was not a fool, and was not going start injecting himself with the virus until he knew for certain it worked-which was where Albert came into play. He had kept the man away from his father's research, though he had made him carry out the lesson he had learned from his father in the killing of Marcus before he could take off with his research, but he was the only living Wesker Child left. The others had met with various ends-most of them bloody and violent. That meant that the only viable test subject was a man who had recently started to distrust him to the point he had actually taken himself out of the active research department and transferred himself to Umbrella's secret operations branch. But Spencer was not a man without resources. A little pressure on the right party and he knew it was a matter of time before they had all the research they needed in order to start him with the injections. Then they would dispose of Albert. There was only room from one god in the world, after all.
It was late. The halls of the Raccoon City police department were almost silent despite the department running twenty-four/seven. S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team had long since gone home and the Bravos were in full swing across the way, but Wesker was still in his office pouring over the new case requests. He didn't like the publicity that his department was getting. Not because he didn't like the limelight-he actually enjoyed being the center of the attention-, but because the media had started to dig into the backgrounds of his members and himself. He knew the forger who had created his mostly fake identity was one of the best in the business and that it should hold up, but he would rather not have to test the man's skills. To top the list of bad things resulting from doing a good job he was now getting requests from other departments to look into their cases. There was no doubt in his mind that Irons was doing this just to piss him off. He put the request to aid in an undercover prostitution sting into the pile of maybe. Truly, the only reason it was going in there was because it was a male prostitution ring and the idea of Chris running being forced to go undercover was just too amusing.
Of course, the thought of one Redfield led to thoughts of the other one. He knew she was starting to work under his skin and it bothered him at the same time it intrigued him. Many woman had tried to be able to do what she did with nothing more than an honest question-get him to answer with more truth than lies. As a matter of fact, he rarely lied to her at all now. She asked and he answered as well as he could without giving her enough information to put her in danger. He knew that if they were watching Birkin, they were watching him which put her in enough danger already. So then, why did he often find himself having to force himself not to tell her? A small thought pushed itself forward and he paused to examine it. Maybe there was an affection starting to take hold along with the obsession? Perhaps it was no longer just about his need to own her, but also about having her willing to be possessed by him? Mayhap there was a small part of him that wanted her to still want him even after she knew all the dark twisted places in his soul? The idea was absurd. And yet…Wesker sighed and put his sunglasses on his desk so he could rub his eyes. It seemed the hours he was keeping were finally getting to him if he was even giving that thought credibility.
The phone on his desk rang and he raised an eyebrow. He technically wasn't supposed to be there so who was calling him? He contemplated blowing it off for a minute before his need for a distraction from his former thoughts took over. He raised the cradle to his ear as he rose to shut the office door. There was always a chance that this was Umbrella related.
"Wesker," the blond responded as he sat in his chair.
"Albert," William's voice came through the slight static of the phone. He sounded almost breathless with excitement. Wesker's hands moved under his desk as he sought the poorly hidden tapping device some dumbass from Umbrella had put in. He had left it rather than risk them going for something he would have a harder time shutting off when he needed to. "I was just calling to give you an update."
"Where are you?" Wesker asked hoping that in the joy of whatever discovery William had made he had enough sense not to use the phone in his house or the lab.
"A truck stop somewhere north of the city. They have the most amazing buffet and Annette likes to go whenever we have time. Plus it's the only place open at one in the morning that will let us in without having to go home to change first," Birkin explained as the loud sound of truck horn was heard in the background. The blond decided that his friend and his wife were very odd people indeed, but he was glad nonetheless that he was being called from a payphone. "I think I've perfected it." Wesker felt excitement and a deep sense of satisfaction. They were well into February, so it had only taken the other man a little over a month of trial and error to fix the problems with the new virus. They were tentatively calling it the Wesker Virus.
"How soon can we start the injections?" he asked already seeing himself free from Spencer. Perhaps, the thought snuck into his head like smoke, he would even take Claire with him. She was his now and he would not tolerate anyone else touching her. If he agreed to it, though, he would have to incorporate her into his planning. But the idea of leaving her when he left Umbrella, of not seeing her again, was enough to make him see red. There was nervous laughter on the other end of the phone that had him narrowing his eyes. "What is it, William?"
"There's a glitch," he said and Wesker closed his eyes. "It's tiny and not something that I felt really needed to be changed, but you should know about it before hand…" The other man trailed off and sighed, knowing that Wesker would just wait for him to get to the point. "You die shortly after the initial injection. The down time is only roughly fifteen minutes, but…" That was it? He would die only to be resurrected fifteen minutes later in full capacity? That was actually something that he could use, he decided as his mind whirled away with possibilities. If he died he wouldn't have to worry about Spencer chasing after him. He would have to make sure that the death was believable, though…
"Actually, William, that can be quite the plus…"
Claire looked out the dark tinted windows at the muted lights of the city all around her. Wesker was taking her out to dinner, and, due to the fact neither wanted to be caught and interrogated by neighbors and friends, they had decided to use New York City as the place for their rendezvous. Not that Claire minded the journey-she loved the city and had since she was a little kid and her parents first took her there. No, what was making her mind itch was the fact that she was having trouble keeping her mouth shut. Ever since the death of her parents Claire and Chris had been very close. Hell, Chris had been there to panic the first time she had gotten her period. A faint smile lit her lips as she pictured him talking to the older lady at the drugstore about what to buy her. He had been so red when he had gotten home. The smile melted into a frown as she thought about what she was currently keeping from him. If she had ended up pregnant she would've told him regardless of what Wesker wanted, but now that she wasn't she was starting to feel guilty about the sneaking around. Keeping their relationship from Wesker's work made sense; she knew that he would be labeled a pervert at minimum and could lose his job at the worst, and she didn't want that to happen. But not telling Chris? What would happen if things progressed to the point where they were going to get married? Was she just supposed to drop this on Chris's lap along with the name of a tux rental place?
"Dear heart," Wesker voice cut through her thoughts like a knife as she turned to find him looking at her. He didn't wear the sunglasses when they were alone, having admitted when she asked about them that he wore them to intimidate and keep others from knowing what he was thinking. She had responded that he didn't need to do such a thing with her. Asking was enough to get her to do most things, and she liked looking at his eyes. They were never warm, not like hers and Chris's. Mostly, they were blank like pieces of Aquamarine, but, sometimes, she would say or do something and something else would flash in his eyes. It reminded her of the look you saw sometimes in the desperately hungry-hungry was the only word she could think of to describe the look at all. Albert Wesker was hungry for something and she was feeding it. She could only hope that what she was feeding would not bite the hand that fed it. "You're awfully quiet this evening."
"Just thinking," Claire offered softly as traffic continued to crawl. She didn't understand his need to drive them everywhere in the city. Public transportation was safe and it was sure a hell of a lot faster. "You know the subway would faster than this? Hell, walking would be faster than this." She frowned as another thought that had been brewing in the back of her mind came to the surface. "I don't know how you afford this car anyway. Chris barely makes rent most months and Captain's salary isn't too terribly much more than what he's making currently." She had gone back to staring at the people out and about missing the quick frown he gave her. Wesker had known that he could afford the black luxury vehicle on his cover's salary, but he thought no one would really notice. He had just ignored the speculation at work and it had rapidly disappeared. What was he going to tell her? A lie sat on the tip of his tongue, but failed to make itself known as this new need to tell her at least part of the truth short-circuited his sense of self-preservation. That and the more he had thought things over as far as fitting her into his plans the more he realized she was going to have to know something.
"I have a second job," that got her attention as she whipped her head around, the two pieces of her hair left loose from the knot she had pulled it back in bouncing as she did so. She had learned quickly that when Wesker went out he went all out. She had started looking up five star restaurants in self-defense. She'd only be caught once unable to read the menu or in jeans when the dress code required, well, a dress. "I hire out as a security consultant for a major corporation. It pays better." All of which was fact if you stretched the definition of security consultant to include the body in the trunk she didn't know about. He actually had been called into the city to take care of a reporter who had gotten a little too interested in Umbrella's different departments. The good news was that they paid for the hotel room for the entire weekend, and, while Umbrella was many things, stingy wasn't one of them. He watched her do the slow blink that let him know she was processing the information as he moved the car forward.
"Is that the reason you chose New York?" Claire asked as some things clicked into place. "You can tell Chief Irons that you're doing work up here. You're actually probably doing work up here before I got here." Wesker nodded his head once. "Is it dangerous?" she asked as she pictured him fighting people as they came to steal the company secrets. She knew her imagination was running away with her, but she was still concerned for him. What if it did end up like an episode of Charlie's Angels or Mission Impossible? The blond let a smile tug at the corner of his lips. She was concerned for him. The black beast in his chest roared its pleasure at her statement even as he mocked it.
"No more so than my day one," he said in a tone that suggested she was a little daft. Claire glared at him and had the sudden urge to stick her tongue out at the infuriating man. As it was she sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Fine," her tone was petulant, but she didn't care, "teach me to show some concern about your safety." Claire turned back to the window as traffic continued its slow crawl and they actually made it to the stoplight. "So," she dug around in her head for another topic, "you got any brothers or sisters? You know I have Chris and my parents died in a car crash years ago."
"No," Wesker said so matter-of-factly that she raised an eyebrow. "I was an only child, and, before you ask, both my parents are dead. My mother committed suicide shortly after my father died in a laboratory fire. He was a geneticist." Claire felt her hand go to her mouth in horror as she looked at him.
"That's…that's just…," she couldn't express her grief at this information. She knew how hard it had been for her when her parents died, but to have one die and the other one kill herself… The idea was not one that sat well with her. She personally thought that such a thing was far from romantic and just plain cowardly on his mother's part, but was not going to say anything to Wesker. It did explain things a little bit, though: his lack of ability to express his affection other than answering her questions when she asked and in the bedroom. She wondered how old he had been when it had happened, but didn't know how to ask.
"It was a very long time ago, dear heart," he didn't look at her as he said it. They were finally coming up to the parking valet where they would leave the car while they ate. "I've long since made peace with it." If making peace included burning the mansion he had grown up in to the ground and joining one of the most ruthless companies in the world. He knew a psychologist would tell him that his becoming a scientist was his mind's twisted way of seeking approval from his dead father and that his inability to trust others was from his mother abandoning and betraying him with her suicide. Personally, he thought a lot of the psycho-babble was a bunch of bullshit. He'd use it to get what he wanted from others, but it had no bearing on him. Or rather, he didn't care why he was the way he was-he didn't want to change.
"Alright," Claire said not really believing him, but not wanting to push the issue as the valet opened the door for her.
Reviews:
Spark of Insanity: They can be cute together, though Wesker protests the usage of such a word. Lol. I think it's going to be quite the surprise for poor Chris… I'm thinking he might have a heart attack.
Grissrox: Hope ya'll had an awesome game! I hope this chapter was worth the wait too!
Olabelle: Hope this chapter was just as good considering it end up like nothing but background on Wesker…
PharohsAdvocate: I'm glad you like the inner conflicts. I think this entire thing is ending up a study in their characters.
PurgatoryNymphe: I'd love to have art of some kind for anything. My stick figures don't look like stick figures… Don't worry, Claire is going to meet Birkin before he turns into Gvirus!Birkin. 'Course she isn't going to know who he is. And Claire is definitely going to play into Wesker's madness once he goes all viral. Let's just say there's a reason Leon never met Wesker but always seemed to find evidence of him…
Darklover: Will Wesker have human desires? Define human…I also like human!wesker. Claire is setting herself up for a major breakdown when she figures everything out.
Compra16: Yay! Five stars! I like explaining the how and the why that they end up doing the things they do. Capcom's explanation for Wesker doing everything was a combination of he is batshit crazy and Spencer manipulated him into it. If Wesker is as good at reading and using people as I believe he is there is no way that would suffice.
Castlelady467: Thanks! And I did update, not fall off the side of a cliff or bury myself in the snow…
Naoko Suki: I have this need to be very realistic when it comes to certain things, and Claire has always seemed like she had a good head on her. I've also never voted her to be one for the pity party either. She always seemed more ready to take the bull by the horns than to wait for someone to rescue her. And Wesker is not interested in someone he would constantly have to save. Especially, once Spencer gets wind of what is going on with Claire. He's a right arsehole as the English would say.
Dragonwindblade: Everyone really seems to heart my Wesker. I makes me happy…
Ehehehehehe: You make made me happy! And I'm glad you like the bit about Wesker and his dead bodies. Oh, the stories his car could tell… This has to be the slowest drag to get into RE:0 ever… Or at least it feels that way.
Project X: Wesker seems to almost live in my kitchen… I think it's because the fridge is in there and he must keep his samples cool. Sorry this took forever to update. I blame the new job, midterms, Spencer being an ass, and the fact that it snowed. I hibernate under about 36 degrees…
Applepearcake134: I'm happy you like my writing style and here is more.
Kimey: And I only managed to answer one of your questions this chapter. You won't believe how proud I was of myself for being able to read what you wrote without a translator!
Littlemonsterteeth: I realized later that I had goofed the timeline for this up (it was supposed to be 1996), but am going with it anyway. I just thought up the most obnoxious song from that year and went with it. Chris seems like a nineties rock man and Jill seems pop-y so it makes sense she would force him to sing it. ^^
Phoenixkid: Everyone is so anticipating Chris's reaction I'm hoping not to disappoint. I will say that it is a looooong way off. I'm thinking about trying to see if they can keep it up until Rockfort….
Magiccat647: Chris is the typical older brother given a gun and a badge…
Yukiko834: I'm glad you found it too! Here's what happens next!
Tayzie-Lee: More granted~
Lovergirl1: There will likely be more lemons as they move the plot along… And, have no fear, Wesker will not abandon Claire once he gets the virus…