A/N: Thank you so much... 55 reviews! You guys are so wonderful. I'm sorry for the late update, but I had that "Error Type 2" for about two weeks -_-
TO CANADA! 8'D
I know that this is probably not a very realistic way of Chris and Wesker to get past the USA-Canadian border, but I didn't want to make it too complicated.
Summary: After Resident Evil 5. Chris tries to return to normality whilst Wesker tries to regain his humanity. Wesker/Chris slash. If you don't like it, don't read it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil. I only own the Hen Party and the used car salesman. (Yes, they are back)
Night of the Hunter
Chapter Ten
"I thought you said you had a plan!"
"I was working on a plan." Wesker said, leaning against the side of the pick-up. "I never said that I had one – you just assumed that I did because I never told you anything."
"And now we're in shit because you don't!" Chris fumed, throwing his hands up in the air. Due to the fact they were sitting on the American side of the border, possibly within sight of the border guards and other road users, Wesker had removed the brunette's handcuffs. "How the hell are we going to get across the border without any passports, when the whole of the USA thinks that we're wanted fugitives? Even though we haven't heard anything on the radio, I'm sure immigration control has been alerted to what we look like!"
"We'll get through the border, Chris."
"What the hell makes you think that?"
"Your friends from the motel are back." Wesker said, pointing to a limo that was parked nearby with several women standing next to it. "I'm sure they would help us get across the border."
"Wesker, they're on a Hen Party. They're not criminal masterminds!"
"Chris, never underestimate a woman." Wesker said grimly, walking to the front of the pick-up truck and opening the hood. He began to inspect what they actually had under the hood.
"I can't believe – I just can't believe that you're going through with this." Chris muttered, shaking his head. He knew that Wesker would never let himself be beaten, but this plan just seemed... it didn't seem evil enough to be one of Wesker's plans.
Wesker came back and placed the cowboy hat from earlier on Chris's head.
"Why is this necessary?" Chris asked.
"They're all wearing them." Wesker answered, gesturing to the Hen Party with a nod of his head. "You blend in now."
"Funny guy." Chris muttered under his breath as Wesker started towards the Hen Party, almost dragging Chris along behind him. "Do you really think they're going to help us get across the border?"
"Why wouldn't they?" Wesker asked. "You saw how much attention they paid to us at the motel – I'm sure we can find a way to persuade them."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" Wesker asked, his voice all fake innocence.
"I'm not even going to bother." Chris sighed as they stopped next to the limo. He felt Wesker's hand make contact with his back as the blonde man shoved him forwards.
"Uh... Hey, ladies." Chris said, trying to flash the most charming smile he was capable of. Being a pilot in the US Air Force meant that he wasn't exactly a stranger to chatting up women... Charisma was almost a qualification for the job, and being in uniform usually helped too.
The five members turned around to face the new arrivals.
"I remember you!" One of them squealed.
"Well, I'm not exactly hard to forget." Chris said, starting to feel more comfortable with the situation.
"No, not you!" The woman scowled, walking over to Wesker, who raised an eyebrow. "The blonde one!"
Chris's expression darkened.
"I'm afraid I don't remember you, my dear." Wesker said, subtly taking a step away. "It's probably more likely that you remember my friend."
"Not really." The woman said, smiling at Wesker. "I prefer blondes."
Chris was trying his hardest not to crack up laughing – was it possible that Wesker was actually scared of these women who he had so easily factored into his plans?
"Well, we actually had a favour to ask you lovely ladies." Wesker said, retreating to standing beside Chris. He nudged the brunette with his arm.
"Huh?"
"Ask them." Wesker hissed, dropping his voice so that he wouldn't be heard. "Tell them the car keeps breaking down or something."
"Well, uh, ladies..." Chris started, removing the cowboy hat. "... My friend and I were wondering if you would be so kind as to let us join you crossing the border. Our car isn't very good, and it's broken down several times." He pointed to the parked pick-up, which was now... smoking from under the hood? Whatever Wesker had done, it had clearly been some sort of sabotage – and he clearly had faith in the Hen Party taking them on board.
"Well girls, what do we think?" A blonde woman who seemed to be the 'leader of the group' turned around and asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Should we take these handsome strangers with us?"
The rest of the women nodded enthusiastically and cheered in agreement.
Wesker looked at Chris and raised an eyebrow. "See? I told you that this would work."
"Whatever." Chris said. "I call shotgun!"
xXx
"So, there are three drivers and five women?" The border guard asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That's correct." The driver said. Chris was sat in the front next to the limo driver, and Wesker was sat in the back of the limo, surrounded by the five women who were on the trip.
"Why do you need three drivers?" The guard asked.
"The guy in the back is my relief driver." The limo driver said, gesturing to the back of the limo. "This guy next to me was the main driver, but I'm taking over from him – he's visiting his sick mother in Canada."
"Right." The border guard said. "I need to see your papers."
Wesker leant forwards, wedging his torso between the front seats. "You don't need to see our papers." He said, holding out a stack of passports, with three one hundred dollar bills slotted between them.
The border guard looked through the passports, and then picked up the money. He folded the notes and stuffed them into his pocket, before stepping back and lifting the barrier. "Have a great time in Canada!"
"What was that?" Chris asked. "Some sort of Jedi mind-trick?"
"Oh yeah! That's what it was like!" The driver said, high-fiving Chris.
"I beg your pardon?" Wesker asked, looking from Chris to the driver. "I have absolutely no idea what any of you are on about."
"Seriously?" The driver asked. He turned to look at Chris. "How has this guy not seen Star Wars?"
Chris leant closer to the driver and cupped a hand around his ear. "He doesn't like violence. He's a pacifist... and a bit of a woman – why do you think he didn't object to me calling shotgun? He likes to think of himself as one of the girls." Chris smirked, leaning back in the passenger seat. Even though Wesker hadn't heard his petty and childish insult, it felt good to know that he was able to get away with it without having a gun waved in his face.
"Chris?" Wesker asked, his voice all innocence.
Chris was wary – Wesker never spoke in that tone, unless he was planning on doing something horrible to someone. "Yes...?"
"Have you forgotten about my sensitive hearing?" Wesker growled.
"... Thanks for the reminder." Chris said, leaning back in the passenger seat. He had forgotten that Wesker was unable to take a joke, so it was likely that the other man was going to make him pay for his comment... in a very painful way.
"Well, I suggest that you don't forget again." Wesker murmured, making Chris shudder. The blonde disappeared into the back of the limo, and Chris heard the screams of excited women along with the sound of champagne bottles being opened.
xXx
"Are you sure you won't come with us?" One of the women in the Hen Party pouted, grabbing Wesker's arm. They had stopped at a used car garage so that Chris and Wesker could get their own car and be back on their way to... wherever Wesker had decided they were going. "There's always room in the limo for both of you... especially you, handsome..."
"I'm afraid that my friend and I have other business to attend to." Wesker said through gritted teeth. "I must say, that I'm sad to leave your... wonderful... company." He looked at Chris, who was standing a few metres away, talking to the limo driver. As soon as they were back on the road he was going to make the brunette pay.
Wesker eventually managed to pry himself away from the Hen Party and walked over to Chris, taking the satnav out of his pocket to check where they are. He ignored the catcalls from the limo as the Hen Party got back in, preparing to go on their way. "It's not too far now."
"Did you have fun?" Chris asked, waving as the limo drove away.
Wesker punched Chris in the face. The brunette had been expecting some sort of violent attack from Wesker, but not so soon. He fell to the ground, landing on his backside. "That's for calling shotgun."
"Thanks." Chris said, pushing himself back up onto his feet.
Wesker kicked him in the stomach, snarling. "And that's for everything else."
Chris fell back to the ground, clutching his stomach. He glared up at Wesker – he had been expecting the punch, and he could taste the blood from his split lip. The gut-punch had been completely unexpected. He had thought that being punched in the face would be satisfying enough for Wesker.
"Excuse me sir, is there a problem?" One of the salesman asked, walking over to where Wesker was standing over Chris.
Wesker turned to face the salesman, folding his arms. "No, there's no problem. I'm just putting him in his place."
"It's fine." Chris wheezed, trying to get his breath back. "I deserved it."
"Sure." The salesman said, raising his eyebrows. "Can I help you fellas?"
"We want to buy a car." Wesker said. "And we'll be paying with cash on the spot."
"Sounds a little shady if you ask me." The salesman scratched the back of his head. "But I ain't complaining – business is business. Come and take a look around the inventory."
"I was going to anyway." Wesker scoffed. "Chris, come on."
Chris slowly got his feet, clutching his stomach. "Fucking hell, Wesker. I know you're pissed off but there was no need to kick me."
"Yes, there was." Wesker smirked, following the salesman. "It made me feel better."
"Son of a bitch." Chris muttered, following behind Wesker.
The salesman stopped beside an old banged up Ford. "And this is our most recent acquisition – it's only done two hundred miles, and the previous owner only used it for short runs. This car just needs a good, long drive to burn out the engine."
"No." Wesker said.
"But you haven't heard the price."
"No." Wesker repeated. "We'll call upon you when we need assistance – clearly, you are incompetent and can't see that any man of my tastes would ever be caught driving that pile of scrap. I can assure you, I am fully capable of picking out my own car."
The salesman glared at Wesker and walked away.
"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" Chris asked.
"Chris, why do you always doubt me?" Wesker asked. "I do know how to pick out a decent car."
"I just doubt sometimes because... well... didn't you just pay people to do it for you before?" Chris sighed. "I know that you plan everything out and whatever, but... you're not... have you ever lived in the real world?"
Wesker patted himself down, frowning. "I'm quite sure that this is reality, Chris."
"That's not what I meant." Chris rolled his eyes. "I meant it like... have you ever done things for yourself? I can't imagine you going down to a car lot and picking out the one you like the best. You would have someone else to do it – you've always surrounded yourself with experts – people who know what they're doing. People you know are the best. I just... it just makes me wonder."
"Chris, it may seem that way to you, but I can assure you that I do mundane tasks just like you." Wesker said. "You say that I have people around me who do as I command – I did, but I don't know. I've always been prepared for being alone because I don't work with people. People are expendable – they make errors."
"You make errors too."
"It always comes back to my faults, doesn't it?" Wesker sighed.
"You have faults, Wesker." Chris said. "Everyone does. Of course I'm going to exploit them."
"Let's just find a car."
xXx
"Was that your stomach?"
Wesker tilted the driver's seat of the Saloon car they had 'brought'. Wesker had, in fact, given the salesman the money and then pick-pocketed him during the signing over of the car. Of course, once they had left Chris had decided to inflict moral judgement. They had stopped in a lay-by for the night, due to Wesker actually acknowledging that he was tired. "Go to sleep, Chris."
"You should've got something from the burger van earlier." Chris said in a sing-song 'I told you so' tone as he spread out on the backseat, trying to get comfortable despite the jangling of the handcuffs.
"I didn't fancy eating road kill." Wesker said, his voice full of venom.
"I'm sure it wasn't road kill, Wesker. You're just exaggerating."
The blonde ignored him and removed his sunglasses, placing them on the dashboard before closing his eyes and trying to sleep.
Chris watched him, waiting for Wesker's breathing to become softer and regulate. As soon as the blonde was asleep, he was going to take the stolen phone from Wesker's pocket – and the gun – and he would be the one calling the shots. He was determined to get some answers from Wesker.
He slowly sat upright, leaning into the front of the car. Wesker was obviously asleep, due to the small snores he was emitting. Chris reached down slowly, to the right hand pocket of Wesker's trousers. He bit his lip as he slid his hand inside, willing for the blonde not to wake up.
Success!
Chris withdrew his hand, holding the phone and the key for the handcuffs. He tucked the phone in his own pocket before he stuck the key in his mouth and began to unlock the handcuffs. When he had managed, he shoved the handcuffs in his pocket and quietly climbed out of the car, walking over to the driver's door. He opened it as silently as he could, and slowly removed the gun from Wesker's belt. The blonde mumbled something in his sleep – making the brunette freeze – and turned his head the other way. Chris crouched down, and inspected Wesker's shoes, a grin forming on his face.
When he was done making sure that Wesker wouldn't be able to attack him – using the handcuffs as extra insurance – he closed the car door and walked away. Chris pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and typed in a number he had memorised.
"Who is this? Do you have any idea what time it is, jerk?"
"Claire, it's Chris." He whispered, and glanced back at the car. "We need to talk about something."
A/N: Yay new chapter!
Not sure when I'll have the next chapter done, but I will try to have it up soon!