Seasons Die Off One by One
Chapter 05 - Present (2012)
His arms feel heavy on his legs as Chris leans forward in his seat, resting his upper body weight on his knees. Anyone would think he's not feeling well. They might even think he's just received some pretty bad news, especially with the way his head hangs low, gaze on the floor, but the captain wouldn't be able to say if it's bad or good yet, especially since the shock has yet to fully leave his system.
Feet shuffle across his peripheral vision - doctors, nurses, patients - Chris isn't sure, but that's not his focus to begin with. They all have somewhere to be, hurrying around and adding to the hasty bustling that usually sets the atmosphere at a hospital. The sound of heels making contact with the tiled floor hardly registers with Chris, not until the owner of those heels peel away from the traffic in the hall and stop in front of him, the polished shoes catching in the artificial light and making his dingy old boots look even worse for wear.
"Chris," a female voice calls out to him, a mixture of sympathy and professionalism.
There's mud on his boots, the captain realizes. The sole splitting at the front, making his boots look worn out even though he had only gotten the pair no more than two months ago.
A sigh comes from the woman before she moves to take a seat beside him, Chris finally turning his gaze to take in Sheva Alomar's profile. Her dark brown her is pulled into a low ponytail, side bangs framing her soft face. Red frames rest on her nose, adding to her air of maturity even though she is pretty young.
Sheva's golden eyes find Chris' and the older man can see the concern behind them along with the bewilderment. It's not everyday someone finds their boyfriend that has been missing for the past fourteen years. It's not every day that said boyfriend hasn't aged a day in those long, agonizing fourteen years.
"I must admit," Sheva starts. "I can't say I understand how you are feeling." Chris lets his gaze drop back to his boots, the dark haired agent shifting in her seat to face him slightly. "I'm going to need you to explain it to me again."
"I already told you all I know," the captain of S.T.A.R.S grunts. How many more times is he going to have to repeat himself?
"I get a call from you in the middle of the night saying you found him. A little warning would have been nice, I must add, but I need you to give me more, Chris," Sheva tries again, golden eyes steady on the side of the man's face.
Chris purses his lips, but he supposes he understands where Sheva is coming from. "In the forest. I heard someone nearby, so I went to investigate and I found him. That's it."
"That's it? He just pops up from behind a tree?"
"More or less. He tried to get away from me," Chris nods before he adds. "He doesn't know who I am."
Sheva furrows her brows at that, "But he's been asking for you."
Chris shakes his head, "I don't think it's me he's asking for. You weren't there when the doctor asked him if he can remember what date it is. He can, but he got the year wrong. He thinks it's 1998."
Sheva's eyes widen at that, her body tensing as her fingers curl into the fabric of her skirt, "Chris, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that Piers is stuck in the past. I don't know how or why, but he hasn't aged," Chris pauses enough to hear the absurdity in his own words. "I don't think he's aged in body or mind."
"That's impossible," Sheva says, but there's no bite to her words. It's more of a reaction, her eyes wide as she tries process what Chris is telling her. "Are you sure he remembers nothing? Has he told you anything?"
"No," the captain sighs.
It had been hell to convince Piers that he will help him, having to mention that he's part of S.T.A.R.S, but he hadn't told him just who exactly he is. Chris had called Sheva then, the woman having been on Piers' case since the beginning and with the older man's brain drawing blanks, she had been the first one to pop into his head. Sheva had known what to do, the cops arriving at the base of the mountain where he and Piers had been waiting for them.
Sheva purses her lips, "Nothing about what happened to him? Even before he disappeared?"
"No," Chris repeats himself before adding. "He doesn't recognize me. He asked me for my name. He asked me if he's seen any S.T.A.R.S members around the mountains. He asked me to contact his boyfriend Chris Redfield."
The corner of Sheva's lips twitch downward at the captain's last statement. "So he finally appears and he remembers nothing?" the woman says more to herself than to her companion.
Chris can almost see the thoughts running through her head. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this. A strange condition, a horrible case of amnesia - something that would explain all of this. He has a fairly good idea about what she's thinking because the same thoughts have crossed his mind over and over again.
0o0
Piers is healthy. Two days of tests and the physicians can find nothing wrong with him. He's the unprecedented discovery of the century, or at least that's how it feels like to Chris as he watches the white coats hustle in and out of the room. It's piqued everyone's interest, the boy who looks exactly the same as he did fourteen years ago. More than that, the kid still thinks he's living in that time period.
Chris himself hasn't been able to set foot the room. He contemplates it, but it's hard to cross the threshold. Sheva and Josh have been busy as the detectives on Piers' case, Sheva understanding how hard this must be for him and keeping him updated on Piers' condition. The first day had been the worse, Piers unable to wrap his mind around the possibility of fourteen years passing in one night, because that's what it had been to Piers - one night. One night where nothing has changed. One night that jumped from 1998 to 2012.
Piers stopped talking on the second day, refusing to answer any more questions and having some of his own, but with no one to trust to get answers from. He might be in denial, maybe even shock, Sheva had told him. There is only one thing on Piers' lips now: Chris Redfield. He wants to see Chris, keeps asking for him, but the captain is pretty sure he's not the Chris the Sniper has in mind.
"You should talk to him," a deep voice says, Chris looking up to see Josh Stone approach him, a cup of coffee in each hand. Josh offers him one, Chris silently grateful for it as he takes it. The sleepless nights are getting to him. He doesn't even think he's gone home yet, the hospital halls being his temporary stay for the past few days.
It's strange to have Josh approach him, Chris' eyes wandering to find Sheva leaning against the wall, quietly watching them.
"He's not budging until he talks to you, it seems," Josh explains, taking a sip from his coffee. "It's for the best that we clear all this up. I think talking to you might do just that."
Chris purses his lips, he knew there had to be a reason Josh would approach him. The man is all work with little room for anything else. He only talks about facts, things that pertain to the case. He is in no means a cold man, just finds it hard to stray from his professional disposition. Chris can relate to that, he himself being known for getting lost in his work.
"I don't see how talking to me will help in any of this," Chris answers, watching as the steam rises from his drink. Piers doesn't want to talk to the captain of S.T.A.R.S, he wants to talk to his boyfriend.
"He's having a hard time believing what year it is. I think seeing someone from the past will help," Josh explains, glancing at the space beside Chris before asking, "May I?" Chris simply nods, the agent taking a seat beside him, resting his elbows on his knees just as the captain is doing. "He's asking for you. Won't talk until he sees you. Piers needs to cooperate. He needs to understand the reality he now finds himself in. We can't help him if he won't let us."
"He's not asking for me. You said it yourself, he doesn't want to accept fourteen years have passed," Chris shrugs, but his heart constricts in his chest, feeling as the hot coffee burns a trail down his throat to his stomach.
"He's asking for Chris Redfield and the last time I checked, that's you," Josh states matter-of-factly. "You can't tell me that you don't want to talk to him. I know you do. You are both confused. You both have questions that only the other can answer. This will do him some good. It will do you good."
Josh isn't really known for his friendly words of encouragement, the only exception being Sheva. They're more than partners, even Chris can see it. Sheva is the opposite of Josh, however, more in tune with the emotions of the people involved in the cases she's assigned to. He would have expected this talk from her, but still, Josh's words resonate in his mind. He does have questions. Fourteen years worth of them and now that Piers has finally appeared, why is he sitting out here mulling it over and not seeing things for himself? What is he so afraid of? Piers already doesn't recognize him, but he at least remembers him. He knows there is a Chris Redfield. That's a start, isn't it? This fourteen yearlong case needs to come to an end, Chris realizes. Not just for him, but for all of those involved as well.
"Alright," the captain nods, throwing his head back and drinking the rest of his coffee in one go. This is as much liquid courage as he'll get, the black coffee a sorry substitute for what he is really craving right now. "Thanks."
Chris pushes up from his seat, feeling his back protest from the hours spent hunched over. One foot after the other, he walks over to Piers' room, Sheva and Josh's gazes both hard on his back. Ready or not, he's doing this. Chris lets his knuckles tap on the door, taking a moment to glance back at Josh and Sheva, their encouraging nods giving him that extra boost of confidence he needs to push the door open the rest of the way.
"Piers?" Chris calls out, lingering by the door before he hears the tenor that still sends chills down his spine.
"Come in," Piers answers, and Chris hears the shuffling on the bed before the older man walks into the room, nerves feeling harder than steel as brown eyes land on the lone patient.
He's just so young. So unchanged. There is no doubt that the man sitting there is Piers, his features clear as day in the lit room. Mix emotions flood Chris - relief, anxiety, longing - and others the captain has no mind to try and identify right now, not with Piers right there in front of him.
There is recognition in Piers' eyes, a flutter of hope rising in Chris' chest, growing stronger at the Sniper's next words, "I know you…"
"Yeah, it's me," the captain breathes out, taking a step closer to the bed.
"You're that guy who found me and brought me here," Piers deadpans, leaning back against his pillows. Chris' jaw snaps shut, feeling the confidence he thought he had melt into the floor. "You in on this elaborate scheme too?"
Scheme? Is that what Piers thinks all of this is? The words hurt, sting at him and all his years of searching, of waiting, but then again, Piers doesn't know that, does he? He understands where Josh is coming from when he says Piers needs to accept that this is all real.
"There is no scheme," Chris finds his voice, reversing that step forward he had taken.
"Here we go," Piers sighs, sinking further into the bed and crossing his arms over his chest. "So now it's your turn to come in here and tell me that I've been missing for the last fourteen years? First the doctors, then those detectives, and now you? Who are you supposed to be, anyway?"
Chris feels his throat go dry, "I'm Chris."
If Piers had been upset before, the fury behind his eyes is almost palpable now. "None of this is funny. I'm getting sick and tired of this shit. When will this bad joke end?"
Chris feels like if he had just been slapped in the face. So many years of searching and when he finally does find the missing boy, Piers doesn't recognize him? What's more, he thinks he's lying? This is some sick hell that he's been put in and he wonders just what he did to deserve it.
"I'm Chris," Chris repeats himself, more forcefully this time.
"Enough with this bullshit! Is that all you came to say? Get out!" Piers huffs, pointedly looking away from the older man.
Chris' catches sight of something on the Sniper's neck, fading marks on his neck that look suspiciously like… Realization dawns on the captain as he takes a step forward without even thinking it through, only stopping when Piers turns to him, hazel narrowing in wariness to the older man's approach.
"Can I…?" Chris finds his voice, lifting his hand and indicating towards the younger male. When Piers doesn't answer him, the captain slowly leans forward, fingers slightly brushing the Sniper's neck as he pushes aside his shirt, revealing the fading marks on his skin. Marks that Chris can put a name to: hickeys. "Who did these?"
Piers shifts away from the older man, Chris pulling his hand back to his side. The Sniper doesn't look like he'll answer, but he does, "My boyfriend, Chris. You know, that guy you're claiming to be?" he spits out before he averts his gaze away, mumbling softly. "I don't understand why he's not here…."
I am here, Chris wants to say, feeling his stomach twist at the thought that Piers is waiting for him. Since day one the Sniper has been asking for him. He refuses to cooperate unless he sees his boyfriend. The captain can't bear to look at Piers' dejected expression, especially when it dawns on him that the Ace must think his boyfriend doesn't want to see him. To be brought to the hospital and subjected to tests. To be probed for questions and be told it's 2012. Chris doesn't know if Piers is suffering from some strange condition or amnesia or whatever, but he does know this must be confusing and stressful on the Sniper as well. Piers is just as much as a victim as everyone involved.
"Fourteen years ago, I put these marks on your neck," Chris speaks before he can choose his words carefully. The statement makes Piers turn, brows furrowed and lips drawn into a deep frown.
"It was my boyfriend. Three days ago," Piers says carefully, no room for argument, but Chris does anyway. He has to.
"It was me. In my car. The one I was fixing," Chris elaborates. "You remember, right? The sports car I had in my garage for months? You would drop by and help me."
Piers shakes his head, frown still etched into his features, "That wasn't you."
"It was me. Piers, I'm Chris," the captain tries, determination settling in. Piers has to recognize him. He must see that he's the same person. "I have a sister, Claire. You remember her, right?"
"Why do you keep asking if I remember? I haven't forgotten anything!"
"That's right, cause it's only been a few days for you, right? Then you know what happened that night. We were called in to search for Bravo. You went with Wesker even though I didn't want you to. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"
Piers scoots up in the bed, his back against the headboard as he tries to put some space between him and the rambling stranger. Chris warily realizes that he must sound insane to the Sniper, he doesn't even want to consider how he must look. Some thirty-nine-year-old man claiming to be a twenty-five-year-old.
"What are you talking about?" the younger man asks warily, hazel trained on brown.
"Don't do anything stupid, I said that to you, didn't I?" He had and Chris had regretted it every moment since, the words repeating hour of every day.
"Chris said that to me," Piers counters, stressing his boyfriend's name as if it held all the answers.
"Yeah, I did. And then what happened after that?"
"I...I got separated from Wesker," Piers pauses before he meets Chris' eyes. "And then you tackle me to the ground and drag me here, trying to make me believe it's 2012."
"It is 2012. Piers, I need you to understand you've been gone for fourteen years. I'm not twenty-five anymore. I've aged, Piers," Chris' voice is borderline begging, the older man realizing how ragged he sounds as the desperation seeps into his voice.
Piers shakes his head, "Would you just stop that?"
"I'm thirty-nine and you're supposed to be thirty-five. Do you really think this is all a joke? These are real doctors, real detectives. This is real Piers," Chris stresses, Piers looking uncomfortable as he slowly tries to edge away from the older man. "You want Chris, I'm here," the captain says, the look of disbelief not leaving Piers' face. "We were both part of S.T.A.R.S. I was the marksman and you were the sniper, the only sniper after Edward died. You took his death hard and you recklessly chased down his killer. Wesker was furious with us."
Piers blinks at him, lips parting and closing before he finds his words, "You heard about that somewhere."
"You have a phobia of ball pits, hating them since you were a kid. And when you're upset, you sing along to songs until you feel better. You told me, remember? After what happened to Claire and I was so angry?" the words are flowing out of his lips now, Chris digging into the recesses of his mind for anything he can use to convince Piers that this is all real. He is Chris. His Chris.
The shock is evident on the younger man's face, "Who told you that?"
"No one did. It was me, Piers," the captain tries again, fingers curling into his jacket with the need to cling to something. He needs Piers to recognize him. He can't leave here today without the Sniper knowing it's him or else it would be like if Piers had never returned. Like if he's still missing.
"Someone had to tell you that," Piers refuses with a shake of his head, but Chris can see the way he trembles. "Did Chris tell you to say that?"
"No, I am Chris. Still don't believe me? Piers, you ran away from home. Split ties from your family and when you tried to fix things with them, I drove thirteen hours from Raccoon to Tall Oaks to get to you after your parents kicked you out."
"H-how do you know that?" the tremors have slipped into Piers' voice, hazel staring into brown so intently that Chris feels as if he's trying to see through him. See through his tricks. His lies, but there aren't any. It's all true.
"Because I was there. It's me," Chris breathes out. "I held onto you and brought you home. To me and Claire." Chris reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He clumsily rummages through it, tossing a card onto Piers' lap. "That's my license. Chris Redfield," he says, noting from the corner of his eye as the Sniper picks it up with trembling hands. "And this," the older man adds, pulling out a crumbled photo and resting it on the bed, "That's us."
Piers slowly reaches for it, pulling the picture closer to see the Chris he knows, young and looking twenty-five with his arm slung over his own shoulder. The corners of the photograph are folded, creases etched into the paper from years of folding and unfolding. The Sniper stares at the picture even as Chris places one final document on the bed, hazel tearing themselves away from the worn photo to the piece of paper not looking much better, also folded over multiple times. It's his own face, the words missing printed in bold, blocky letters.
"I... what is this?" Piers gasps, grasping the flyer by the corner as if it will erupt into flames.
"Piers, look at me," when the Sniper sits there staring at the evidence, Chris tries again. "Look at me." Hazel flutter up to meet dark brown, Chris' determined expression keeping Piers' gaze on him. "Look at me and tell me that you don't recognize me…"
Piers furrows his brows, but he does as the older man asks. Hazel wonder over sharp features, from the curve of Chris' nose to the captain's jaw covered in stubble. From the older man's lips back up to his eyes where they stay, piercing gaze as sharp as ever making Chris feel as if the Sniper is looking right through him again. Piers doesn't move, but the captain can almost see the thoughts running through the younger man's mind, especially when those eyes widen, recognition settling in as the Ace takes in a sharp breath.
Piers' reaction, however, is less than ideal.
"No way," shakily escapes Piers lips before he's backing up, but he's already against the headboard and has nowhere to go but up. Chris' license and the papers slide down the sheets. "No way!" he says louder this time, almost in a shout as he curls into himself at the edge of the bed.
Chris is at the side of the bed in a heartbeat, thighs pressed against it as he reaches out to the younger man, "Piers?"
"This can't be happening," Piers gasps, looking between the photograph on the bed and the older man, flinching when Chris reaches out to him again.
A hand on Chris' shoulder pulls him away from Piers, only then does Chris realize a medic had entered the room and had been trying to get his attention.
"Can you step out, please?" the white coat requests, but it sounds more like a command.
Chris throws a glance at Piers, wanting to protest, but the small frame trembling slightly as hazel train on the photo and the missing poster on the bed change his mind. Piers looks shaken up. So lost and confused.
Chris nods, letting the medic escort him out, a nurse slipping past him into the room. He can hear Piers asking questions - no, more like demanding answers - sounding confused and bewildered. The Sniper seems to have finally understood that this is all real. What felt like one night to him is really the passage of fourteen years. Fourteen long years.
Disclaimer: Resident Evil and none of its characters belong to me.
Author's Note: Ok, so this one is pretty long but at least Chris and Piers finally got to interact. Chris pulls himself together and talks to Piers and the Sniper gets one hell of a shock when he finally realizes fourteen years have passed. I like Josh and Sheva and I hope they're not too out of character here.
The next chapter will be set in the past (1998). Please review and let me know how I'm doing! Thanks for reading.