Skin flushed and shiny from the steam and heat, Chris had found himself in a large, rectangular room with a fenced-off structure of machinery situated in the centre. Circling around, he'd found a power panel with a switch to turn on the elevator, which he did gladly, feeling one step closer to the end of this nightmare. Turning back, he saw Wesker waiting by the double doors, astutely keeping his distance with his handgun at the ready. Chris' stomach flipped as he approached the blond, the latter keeping his back to him. He wondered if Wesker was pretending he didn't exist; was it some twisted kind of hurt pride at the rejection or was this detached manner for Chris' benefit? Showing Chris that he'd heard and understood him loud and clear that nothing was going to happen between them. Not now. It was beyond Chris why the older man had bothered to try, why he'd thought it would work. Although even as he thought that, shame overtook him at the fact that it nearly had. Loading and cocking his shotgun, he hesitated at the doors, glancing over to stare at the back of Wesker's head and opening his mouth to speak. Wesker's head tilted slightly, sensing his intentions but not enough to meet his gaze. For reasons unknown it made his throat constrict. No words came and he shut his mouth again, attempting to summon up his hatred and anger for the blond before going through the doors.

As they clanged shut behind them, an onslaught of rattling mesh, clicking and screeching reached their ears, signally more of those black human-insect like things. Chris barely had time to brace himself before one was hurtling round the corner of the walkway. He blew it back with a shell and took off at a run, dodging sideways as another swiped at him with one of its sticky, prickly, clawed limbs. He got behind it and bashed the back of its head with the butt of his shotgun, continuing on, hearing shots ring out behind him. He knew Wesker was dealing with the brunt of it this way but even as his instincts screamed at him to stop and assist, he didn't so much as look back. Their best bet was to get the hell out- if they tried to make a stand and kill them all, they'd end up cornered and ripped to shreds. There were just too many of them. He took a sharp left, his arm almost crashing against the rusted edge of the metal covered wall. An adrenaline-fuelled swell of relief hit him at the sound of a set of heavy-booted footsteps on his tail, despite the near-deafening shrieking and working machinery clouding his senses. He threw himself through the door, going straight instead of taking the narrow shortcut where the creatures could crowd them against the fencing.

He heard Wesker slam the door behind them and then the floor was taken from beneath him, his heart leaping into his mouth. One of them had been hanging from the ceiling mesh with its hind legs- its front claws had hooked into the backs of his shoulders, scraping against his shoulders blades. Another scurried round the corner up ahead while Wesker's bullets riddled the one above him. Ignoring the pain with difficulty, he dropped his shotgun and reached up to grip onto the creatures limbs as the one in front prepared to pounce atop his dangling body. He pushed back with his legs as hard as he could and then swung them forward, the flat of his feet smacking into the monsters face mid-leap. He cried out at the agony of his shoulder flesh tearing further but it cut off as he fell to the floor, struggling up from under the limp weight pinning him down. He scrabbled for his shotgun, blasting the one ahead of him onto its back and watching it dissolve. He clenched his teeth as claws were unceremoniously yanked out of his shoulders and then blearily focused his eyes on Wesker's form running in front of him, disappearing around the corner. Dizzily, he got to his feet and pivoted, jogging backwards and shooting at the two or three monsters charging at him, desperately trying to see straight. His back hit wall, causing him to grunt as the third one dropped, turning into black, sizzling chemicals. He cursed as yet another one sprung from the ceiling at the end of the pathway, his gun empty.

"Chris!" His head whipped to the right to see Wesker spin away from where he'd been holding the exit door open, to round-house an attacking mutant of his own. Facing forward again, he dodged sideways last minute so that his enemy collided with the wall with a skull-cracking sound. He didn't pause to see if it was dead, merely turned and sprinted towards Wesker and the door, ducking through it and bodily helping push it closed. One of the creature's head and claw were jarring it open but they both pulled back an inch and threw themselves against it again, successfully decapitating the vile thing and the door sealing shut. Chris collapsed back against the doors and instantly winced at the piercing throbbing in the backs of his shoulders.

"The hell are those things..." he panted, using a shaky hand to push himself back upright.

"Chimeras," Wesker muttered beside him, slicking back his tousled hair and reloading his gun. The brunette gingerly paced forward a couple of steps, rummaging in a pocket on his cargo pants for some shells to do the same. "They're human-fly hybrids, bound together by the T-virus." The blond frowned mildly at Chris' look of disgusted disbelief. "You asked."

"Will it hold them?" He inquired, glancing warily at the doors and effectively diverting the conversation.

"Yes, but they could escape through the ventilation system."

"Great." Scowling, he turned away and reached around to one of his shoulder blades. He hissed under his breath at the sting, his gloved fingers coming back bloody. He couldn't help but murmur out a curse, not wanting to waste any more time than was necessary but not wanting to risk bleeding out either. Drawn from his deliberating, he started at the feel of a hand grasping his upper arm, tensing and spinning round. Wesker was holding a first aid spray and wearing an impatient expression that seemed to say 'grow up'. Chris bristled, contemplating snatching the can from the blond's hand and blindly applying it himself, but he knew it would only take longer and he'd rather avoid resorting to childishness where condescending Wesker was involved. Releasing an irritated breath, he wordlessly put his back to the older man and closed his eyes. His hairs stood on end as he sensed Wesker close the space between them, causing him to frown and swallow harshly. He felt his muscles lock together when the blond carefully moved aside the torn scraps of his t-shirt and green vest around the first wound, the latter telling him to relax in an aggravatingly soothing voice. He hated that it worked, that the traitor's presence could still have a calming effect on him whether he wanted it to or not. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter as the medicinal spray began coating his damaged flesh, letting his mind wander for the time being.


Chris jogged to a stop, panting heavily and bending over to lean his palms on his knees.

"Damn, you're fast, Captain," he breathed out, grinning up at the blond who had already started his warm down stretches.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Chris," Wesker said with little inflection but there was a taunting upward curl to his mouth as he glanced down at him. "You weren't that slow." The brunette chuckled lightly, shaking his head and straightening up, enjoying the crisp breeze against his bare arms. It was a nice contrast to the hot, damp patches sticking his navy tank top to his torso. He bent a leg up behind him, stretching his quads and placing a hand on his captain's shoulder to steady his balance. The blond copied the action; he knew it was for his benefit- that Wesker didn't need any help balancing- and for that he smiled in appreciation. Switching his legs after a moment, Wesker's hand still keeping him level, he eyed the damned, black shades his captain refused to part with.

"How did they not fly off your head?" He pondered aloud, earning himself a patronising smile, but it didn't deter him, feeling in a humorous mood. "You were going so fast, you've gotta be gluing them to your head. You can tell me, you know. I won't tell anyone." His daring smirk widened when his captain pursed his lips, happily surprised to see an amused smile hiding in there.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but there's no secret to tell," the blond retorted, his mouth thinning into a line but Chris could still see the lift in his angular features. "They really did just stay on." He laughed heartily at that, dropping his foot back to the floor and stretching his arm across his chest, holding it there.

"Hmm, or you had a spare..." he faux-accused, sending his captain a sideways, crinkly-eyed grin. He watched Wesker allow a small smile to grace his face, one that told of simply indulging him but he was grateful all the same. It was rare for the blond to let this kind of teasing at his expense go on for more than a comment or two and the brunette flattered himself that it was because it was just the two of them. Perhaps he gave Chris permission because he knew there wasn't an ounce of malice behind it, maybe he even enjoyed it a little.

"You think I carry around spare sunglasses on me?" Wesker asked dubiously as though it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, cracking a triumphant yet brief grin across his face when Chris laughed again.

"It's alright, Captain," the brunette told him with feigned sincerity once he'd regained some of his composure, placing a hand on his upper arm in 'understanding'. "Your secrets safe with me."


Chris jolted out of his reverie at Wesker's hand tentatively touching his arm, forcing away the unwanted memories and shrugging off the hold. He turned around, adjusting the shotgun in his hands and meeting the blond's expectant gaze. What was he expecting, a 'thank you'? He shook off the nervous impulse to scoff, dropping his eyes and belatedly starting down the hallway that lead to the main area.

"Where are you going?" He heard Wesker demand, sounding somewhat startled. He halted at the door, sighing in annoyance.

"To free Jill."

"You can't," the traitor stated in a final tone that grated on him, making him turn sideways to glare at the older man. "There's an automatic lock on her cell door. The release is down in the B4 lab."

"Doesn't matter. She needs to know that she's safe- that I'm here to get her out," he quipped, tone brokering no argument. His expression turned sour as the blond pinched the bridge of his nose. "But you wouldn't understand that, would you?" Wesker's grey-blue eyes flashed up to his, narrowing infinitesimally.

"So we're back to this?"

"Back to what, Wesker?" He shot back, a multitude of emotions flaring up within him at the blond's incredulity.

"Catty remarks that solve absolutely nothing." He could tell that his ex-captain was reaching the end of his tether by the rise in his voice but he didn't give a damn. Wesker had no say in anything anymore- he'd thrown away that right when he'd lured them all into this hell; when he'd let their comrades die, when he'd killed Enrico in cold blood. Nothing he said or did was going to change any of that and Chris could only be relieved that he still had the clarity to see it.

"What would you have me say?" He muttered in a dangerous tone, facing Wesker head on with a defiant gleam in his deep blue eyes.

"The truth." He baulked, shaking his head roughly as the blond strode towards him in a clipped manner. He let out a bitter laugh before returning Wesker's frostily intense gaze.

"You wouldn't know the truth if it was standing right in front of you," he bit out in heated sarcasm, his heart beating achingly fast within his chest as he stared the blond down. Wesker took another step forward, towering over him slightly with the inch he had on him. He wanted to back up, regain some personal space but he knew he couldn't- it would be like backing down- so he stood tall, jutting up his chin.

"It is in front of me, Chris. Between us," the blond replied lowly, eyes fierce and bright as they trapped his, making it impossible to look away. "And I have always known it." Chris' lips parted, fear and hurt surging up his throat and threatening to suffocate him. He didn't want to see what was burning in Wesker's eyes but he could see it and he knew he would never be able to unsee it. It was that time-old, animalistic glint people got in their eyes when they set their sights on someone they wanted and wanted now. Predatory, watchful, intent- there wasn't one word that could encompass that look. He never imagined Wesker would ever direct that look at him, never even thought about it. Not until their bonding moment an hour or so ago in the landscape room and even then, he had pushed thoughts of that nature as far to the back of his mind as possible.

The truth Wesker meant was the apparently mutual attraction and desire they had for each other but for Chris, it wasn't that deliciously, complicatedly simple anymore. 'That is no longer on the cards' was now indefinitely tacked onto the end of that truth; and it hurt. He hated Wesker for repeatedly reminding him of what the man had already ruined. Hated him for a kiss that was never going to cease circling around the back of his head like a hungry shark, seeking tainted food. He hated that he'd cared enough about the traitor to hate him in the first place.

There were so many spiteful responses he could toss in Wesker's face right then but when it came down to it, all of them would be empty and they would both know it. So he didn't say anything. Slowly, he inched his face away from where they'd been so close that they were inhaling each other's fumes and his body followed, inching away from the welcoming, tempting heat of Wesker's. The blond's fine eyebrows knitted together in an unreadable expression, the fire gradually dying in his eyes and leaving ashes that smothered any trace of blue. He'd thought putting space between them would make breathing easier but as he turned back towards the door, his lungs felt punctured, bleeding freely.


It was a short, brisk jog back to the triple-locked door that held Jill's cell beyond and Chris wasted no time retrieving the crumpled up code slip from his vest pocket. Wesker stood a noticeable distance away, his back to him as if merely standing guard. The brunette didn't try to guess at his thoughts, they had always alluded him even in the best of times. Breaking his momentary distraction, he ran his eyes over the final part of bible scripture quoted on the slip before inputting the code.

'and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me."'

(Genesis 22:18)

Blessed. Chris had to stifle the vomit that wanted out of his stomach at the thought of Umbrella 'blessing' the world with the T-virus. The damage and destruction an outbreak of it had done to a mansion and research facility alone had been horrific- the idea of the same terror being wrought out in civilisation was immensely worse. He wasn't naïve enough to assume that this place was the corporation's only facility but if destroying it and gathering incriminating evidence along the way threw a spanner in Umbrella's plans, it was certainly a good place to start. Quickly inputting the third code, he listened as the double doors emitted an electronic click. He almost glanced back at Wesker's approaching footsteps but caught himself, instead taking a deep breath and opening one of the stiff doors.

Coming into a grey, concrete corridor to the right, he hastily followed the path and rounded a corner to an aluminium cell door with a barred, letter-box window. There was a security camera positioned in a corner of the ceiling, trained on the door but since there was no one left alive anyway, he paid it no mind. He didn't however, miss how Wesker stayed back and out of sight, leaning a shoulder against the wall adjacent.

"Chris!" He heard a familiar female voice say as he peered through the bars into the grimy cell with the grimier single bed shoved into a corner.

"Jill," he said, bracing his palms on the door as his partner hurried over to him. She looked drained but determined and his heart panged with pride.

"Chris," the woman with the mousy-brown hair began urgently. "Wesker's the-"

"I know," he interrupted her not unkindly, feeling guilty at the fact that the person in question was with him and had been for quite some time now. She nodded once in understanding, her fair, tired features gaining an almost sympathetic tint. He glanced away in acute trepidation before busying himself looking over the door and trying it for good measure. As Wesker had warned, it didn't budge and he relayed the information to Jill. "Don't worry, Jill, I'm gonna get you out of here." Curling his hands around the bars tightly, he watched her scrub her face, nodding absently and giving him a weak smile.

"Did you..." she trailed off, releasing a shuddering breath and pressing closer against the door. "Did you find any of the others? I found Forest..." The brunette wanted to tear the door off its hinges at the look of grief and distress that shone in Jill's eyes, the memory of Forest's ice-cold body flitting to the forefront of his mind. The man had looked like he'd been pecked to death by those mutant crows. He had to squeeze his eyes shut at the image of his fallen comrade, reopening them after a desolate moment when he felt Jill's hands clasping his where they were wrapped around the bars.

"Jill...they were all dead or as good as. Me and Rebecca, we saved Richard but later on he..." Chris swallowed shallowly as she bit her lip savagely to fight off the tears threatening to spill over her eyelids. The ire gradually darkening her features reassured him in as much as it told him she wasn't going to break down completely, not yet and he could use some of her strength right now. "I haven't seen Barry but uh, Wesker told me he's alive..."

"I bet he is," Jill muttered scathingly but she sighed at his confusion, not elaborating. "And Rebecca, she's still...?"

"So far as I know. She should be catching up with us pretty soon," he smiled fleetingly, gazing sadly at his partner for a long second. Movement in the corner of his eye had him stilling, seeing Jill's crystal-clear gaze shift past him before widening in shocked recognition.

"Chris, we don't have time for this."

"Wesker?!" She hissed out vehemently and he sent the traitor a stormy glare that the latter merely folded his arms in response to, ever expressionless. "Chris! What are you doing? You can't trust him!"

"It's not what you think, Jill," the brunette defended, positioning himself so that Wesker was blocked from her view.

"Chris, he's the reason everyone's dead-" she berated him, pushing back from the door and splaying her hands in front of her, but he cut her off, ending her tirade before she could really begin.

"Don't you think I know that, Jill?!" His voice dropped in volume, the pain and fury flickering in his eyes as he cast his gaze down, seeing nothing. "I couldn't believe it at first...but then it all started to make sense. Why he was always so damn busy all the time, why he'd randomly skip out on work every so often and then come in the next day looking completely the same and not ill at all." He paused to meet her gaze again, his own visibly forlorn. She looked like she was about to say something but seemed to think better of it. "I don't trust him, Jill. If you think that I could after finding out the truth, then-"

"I'm sorry, Chris," she said so softly that he almost didn't hear her. He started to shake his head, to tell her that there was no need to apologise but she continued. "I know this probably hit you harder than anyone else." She stepped forward once more, putting her hands back atop his.

"Did he hurt you?" He murmured solemnly after he'd recovered a bit from the awkwardness. She scrunched up her forehead faintly, taking a moment to study his features before shaking her head.

"No, he didn't. He pretty much just slung me in here and left. I didn't make it easy though," she said with a small smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. He returned the gesture half-heartedly before sighing in exhaustion. "Chris, what are you doing with him? What's the plan?" She asked gently as if she thought he might fly off the handle again.

"He's gotta pay for what he's done, Jill. I'm putting him behind bars as soon as we get back to the RPD," he said gravely, staring into her eyes. "Killing him won't bring them back...and death would be too good for him anyway."

"I just..." She pressed his hands in comfort as she searched for the right words, reaching up with a hand to straighten her beret out of habit. "Are you sure you know what you're doing with him?"

"Of course, Jill, you don't need to worry about a thing. We'll get you out of here in no time and then you can watch my back, okay?" She was giving him a strange look despite the firm reassurance he was displaying and he felt himself tense up.

"How do you know he's not just playing you, Chris?" She insisted almost helplessly and for a moment he froze, finally managing to decipher the subtle quality to her face. She knows, he thought. Rather, she knew about his feelings for Wesker and that's why she was doubting him this way. He couldn't help but respond like a deer caught in the headlights. "How do you know he won't stab you in the back the first chance he gets and leave us here to die?"

"He won't," he replied adamantly but under his breath, not wanting to have this conversation right where Wesker could hear them, but having little choice. "If he was going to do that, he's had plenty of chances."

"Chris!"

"You don't have to trust him, Jill!" He argued unwaveringly in hushed tones, reversing their hands so that he could squeeze hers in assurance. "Trust me." He paused to let his words sink in, watching the anxiety and hope battling it out across the milky plains of her face. "He won't do anything stupid while he thinks he has something to gain being partnered up with me."

"And what's that?" He could plainly hear and read the implication tagged onto that question, despite the evident worry taking precedence in her expression.

"Combat data," he retorted stonily, daring her to make any more allusions to his and Wesker's questionable affiliation. "Nothing more, nothing less." She returned his gaze for a long minute, her concern genuine and tugging uncomfortably at his heartstrings.

"Okay...okay..." She nodded, taking a couple deep breaths and flashing him a half-smile. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"I know, Jill, I know. Everything's gonna be fine, I promise," he told her confidently, reaching through the bars to cup her cheek momentarily. "Now, I'm gonna go and get this door open and I'll be back."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna get us all out of here."

"Not without me watching your back, you won't," she joked faintly and they shared a partly warm, partly forced chuckle.

"You better get ready then, Partner," he said in parting, reluctantly stepping back from the door. Her smile widened ever so slightly as she watched him make to depart, swiping roughly at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"And Chris?" He hesitated, turning towards her. "Be careful." He gave her a two-fingered salute before brushing past Wesker and returning the way they came.


Chris felt invigorated now that he'd seen Jill alive and breathing for himself and hadn't merely taken Wesker's word for it. All that was left now was for Rebecca and Barry to show up and they'd be ready to get the hell out of here. He refused to consider the possibility that the family man and petite rookie were dead or trapped some place. He knew they wouldn't be able to wait around for them forever; the longer they took to level the facility and therefore eradicate the virus, the greater the chance of the outbreak spreading to the city. A number of 'animal attacks' had already been reported- a clear sign that the virus had been creeping closer and closer to Raccoon- and Chris would do anything to prevent that from happening.

Making it back to the t-shaped area, the brunette detoured to the rest room to retrieve the magnum he'd left there previously. He set down the shotgun to shovel as many magnum rounds as possible into his pockets, checking to make sure the gun was fully loaded. His heartbeat spiked at the sensation of being watched and he snuck a glance over his shoulder to see Wesker leaning back against the wall beside the door, arms folded deceptively casually over his chest.

"Do you remember that bank heist, Chris?" The marksmen's guarded eyes met the blond's for a second before he refocused his attention on organising his inventory, remaining silent. "You took two bullets to the leg. It was fortunate that they both missed your femoral artery but you were bleeding badly, could barely walk let alone take down bank robbers." Wesker's voice was a velvet murmur in the quiet room, his tone lightly laced with something akin to nostalgia. "It was like organised chaos, smoke grenades everywhere, gunfire, everyone sticking to formation as much as was manageable.

"You and I got separated from the others; you hadn't long been a member of STARS and I'd been keeping an eye on you, not yet sure how much of a loose cannon you really were." Chris swallowed thickly, twisting half-way round to regard his ex-captain with scepticism. Where exactly was he going with this? What did he hope to achieve by reminiscing about the past after everything that had happened? "I had to pull you into a stationary closet out of harms way. I did what I could for your wound and then I told you I'd be back with medical help once the siege was over. Do you remember what you did?" He waited for an answer but when Chris could only scowl and look away, he continued. "You begged me to stay. I was surprised at the time- you had been nothing but a problem for me up until that point, with your attitude and less than acceptable punctuality. I was certain you couldn't stand me but nevertheless you begged me not to leave you there."

"For all the good it did," Chris muttered finally, bracing his hands on his hips and staring at the floor. "You still left."

"Of course I did. There was still a job to do, one I couldn't afford to sit out of," Wesker replied dismissively, pushing up from the wall and stepping towards him. "I told you I'd come back for you and then I broke the handle off the door so that no one would be able to get to you. I bruised up my shoulder breaking that door down when I returned...It all worked out in the end-"

"Get to the point, Wesker," Chris snapped tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. Wesker had complained about time running short not minutes prior and now here he was monologuing. He sighed and faced the older man fully, the latter not too close, not too far.

"My point is, Chris, that I kept my word. I came back for you and you got out perfectly fine." The brunette eyed Wesker's unflinching gaze, not quite sure how to react as he read the nearest thing to sincerity written across his tanned features. "I know you don't trust me and considering the circumstances, I'd be disappointed if you did but..." The blond let out a somewhat pent-up sigh at the disbelief fast forming on Chris' face. "If you could bring yourself to trust me even the slightest bit, things could go a lot smoother from here on out."

"And how exactly do you figure that? We've been doing fine as it is- maybe that's because I haven't been trusting you," Chris pointed out sharply, highly suspicious of what Wesker was trying to do.

"Actually you've put your trust in me a number of times already. You said it yourself, there've been plenty of opportunities for me to kill you or escape." Wesker was serious and yet coaxing as he stared back at Chris, causing the latter to shift a little in unease. It was so like Wesker to be logical and perceptive, not missing a thing. Always right where Chris was wrong. "But I've done neither, Chris and that fact alone is all I ask you put your trust in."

"What are you saying-?"

"Chris, in the simplest of terms," Wesker said slowly, deliberately, rephrasing in a way that he knew the brunette couldn't misunderstand. Chris was barely refraining from losing his temper, gritting his teeth at the audacity of the blond. "No matter what happens, trust that I will keep my word and get the both of us out of here. That should we get separated somehow, I will come back for you, as I've always done." It took him a long, drawn-out moment to think through what was being asked of him. Looking at Wesker's face, one that was almost every bit as mysterious to him now as it had been with the permanent, black shades, it was hard to remember why he shouldn't put his faith in the man. An altogether too big part of him wanted nothing more than to trust the traitor, to believe that he did care about him in some minuscule way and as a result wouldn't abandon him. However, the truth was he didn't need Jill's warnings, didn't need to spend time over-analysing the situation to know that in all good conscience, he would never again be able to put his faith in this snake of a man. "You don't have to answer me now, or at all. I simply wanted to say my piece. Just...think about it, Chris."

He couldn't tell if Wesker had seen or guessed that he was about to deny his request and hence tacked that last bit onto the end. It made no difference regardless; and as he turned back around, only to immediately feel the butt of a gun thwack against the back of his head, his last thought before losing consciousness was that he had made the correct decision.


Thanks for reading! And again, thank you for the reviews guys :')

I'm sorry for the long waits in between chapters but believe it or not I'm actually pretty consistent with this fic xD

This chapters song is Letters From The Sky by Civil Twilight.