Author's Note:
They met and it was beautiful.
From here on out, things will be slightly AU. I'm changing the layout of their journey, for maximum bonding. Their relationship could've gone a lot further in RE0 and Umbrella Chronicles, so this is how I would want it to be.
The outcome will still be the same, I'm just switching up a few things. I have RE0 and UC on my computer, so I was going to follow the plots basically exactly, but then I figured, why? When I could blend them and add some different stuff and see what happens?
The characters decide what's going to happen, not me.
Discoveries.
Billy groaned and got up, his head pounding. He checked himself for injuries. Besides major mental scarring, he'd be fine. Then he remembered Rebecca.
"Hello!" he shouted. "Rebecca?" he was worried suddenly, about the girl. Had she remained on the back deck with the train derailed? Was she alive? Unconscious? Panic flooded him. "Rebecca!" he shouted frantically. "Rebecca! Are you okay?"
He heard a crash of glass and saw something climbing up from the train. Quickly, he checked his gun for ammo and aimed at the figure, when he realized it was Rebecca. He ran towards the side. She looked injured: spots of blood soaked her shirt, and he saw she had glass in her hair. He held out his arms. "Come on!" he yelled.
He saw her indecision, and amused, wondered which she'd pick: pride or wisdom. She was injured and it was a long way up, but letting him catch her would wound her ego.
She leapt from the top of the train and landed inches from his legs. She landed awkwardly, falling in the process. He snorted a laugh. He should've known the girl'd pick pride.
"Lemme help," he knelt down next to her and shoved her shoulder down, getting her head lower so he could pick the glass out.
"I could do it myself," she replied, annoyed. "I am a medic."
"So that's why S.T.A.R.S. picked you out, little girl. I was wondering when the force started hiring kids."
"I'm eighteen," she snapped as his fingers grazed her scalp. "Not a kid."
"How did you manage to skip out of going to school?" he asked curiously, picking through her downy-soft hair for bits of glass, touching her warm skin gently.
"I didn't!" she answered, indignant. "I graduated when I was fifteen."
"Wait, what?" he demanded.
"I started at eleven. I'm a genius," she boasted. "Well, I'm really smart. Obviously I'm not a genius or I wouldn't be in this mess," she drooped.
He continued playing with her pixie-cut hair, although all the glass was out already. "Genius or not, nobody could've known about this," he told her softly.
She shrugged. "Is all the glass out yet?" she asked, moving away. "I'm bleeding really badly."
He noticed the cuts up and down her arm. "You're a medic, do you have what we need to fix this?"
She nodded. "Yeah, in my belt." She pulled out gauze, tape, and first aid spray.
She took off her shirt. Billy was surprised at her all-business precision. Her deep black sports bra covered everything, but he'd have figured her for a girl of extreme modesty.
Of course, then he noticed how her cheeks were bright red as she vigorously sprayed and attempted to wrap her arm. She clumsily tried, but watching her, Billy took the gauze and wrapped it around her, cutting it with his teeth.
This brought his face extremely close to her body, and he could feel her furious blush getting hotter every second. He ignored it and taped her wound.
She quickly pulled her shirt back on, wet bloodstains and all, and stood up, her attitude contrasting with her pink cheeks.
Billy watched in her in amusement, but his cheerful attitude quickly faded as her walkie-talkie buzzed.
"This is Rebecca, over!" she cried, answering the call immediately.
"Rebecca!" the loud, gruff voice called from the device. "Where are you? Are you all right?"
"Yes, sir, I'm fine. I'm not quite sure where I am, but I'll make my way to the rendezvous point, sir, over."
"Have you managed to find Coen?"
Rebecca stiffened visibly as she answered. "N-no sir, I have not. I'll continue my search for him, over."
Billy was suddenly overcome with gratitude. He hadn't even given a thought to her teammates. And she had just lied to them—for him. "Why did you do that?" he asked carefully.
She gave him a look he couldn't quite recognize. Then, slowly: "I guess… because I don't think you should get arrested."
Hope filled Billy. If she thought he shouldn't be arrested, maybe she didn't believe he'd killed those people.
Billy suddenly felt the urge to live. Not to sit around and wait for Anna, not to mope around, not to stay around and wait for the Marines to kill him.
He wanted to do things because he liked them, not because they filled up time. It was the worst epiphany to have in the middle of a fucking horror movie, but he couldn't help it.
How did one girl bring that out in him?
Because she just saved your ass, he reminded himself.
"But remember," she added primly. "If you try anything funny, I will shoot you."
He rolled his eyes.
The second they had begun moving, a creature crawled out of the train.
"A giant fucking scorpion?" Billy demanded furiously. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"
Rebecca's eyes were wide as she backed away. "Billy!" she hissed. "We've got to run! Now!"
She tugged at his arm and with a final glance at the giant creature, Billy ran behind her, wondering how the hell they weren't dead yet.
He ran until Rebecca stopped, panting, leaning against a wall. "I don't know how we've made it this long," she admitted quietly to him.
Billy was surprised to hear her voicing his own thoughts.
"Edward—he was my teammate- died on the train. I found him right after the first time I saw you. And he died," tears were pouring down Rebecca's cheeks and she wiped them away with an angry gesture. "I don't mean to heap my problems on you. I just—how didn't he make it? We have, why couldn't he?" she wept, trying to stifle her pain.
Billy's heart went out to her. He remembered feeling the same way after his mother died.
She'd made it the first accident, so why not the second?
Gruffly, he pulled her to his chest and patted her back, feeling insanely inadequate. This proud little girl wouldn't take his pity—or know his empathy.
But as if she always had to defy what he thought of her, she leaned into his embrace, just for a moment, as if taking strength from his frame. He realized how small she was, how fucking tiny. Her head brushed his chest and he'd be surprised if she weighed over ninety pounds. She pulled away after an instant, so quickly that if he hadn't known better, he would've thought he imagined her taking comfort from him.
But he did know better. And he had comforted her. It was a strange experience for Billy, to feel something for another human being. Her tears clung to her dark brown lashes and made them spike together. Her cheeks were pink from her emotion, and she sighed shakily.
Billy took a piece of gauze from her belt and gently wiped her face.
She allowed him, and when he finished mopping her tears, she turned away. "Thank you," she whispered quietly, in a tone Billy couldn't name.
"We should probably head somewhere. With our luck, there are gonna be more fucking creatures popping up at any second." He replied, ignoring her gratitude. He was surprised at his own behavior.
He wished Anna were here. Why wasn't she? This was a pretty fucking panicky moment, he thought. She always came when he needed her.
As they walked into a large room, his prediction proved true. Rebecca shot down a zombie before Billy had even noticed it. Christ, he needed to pay attention. A little slip could mean death.
"Look at this!" Rebecca said with fascination. "It's a platform. Do you think you could stay here and pump me up?" she asked, her face wide with interest.
Where the hell did she dig that enthusiasm up from? She had been crying a moment ago. Fucking women. Anna had been the same way.
Or maybe it wasn't enthusiasm as much as false bravado, he noted, looking at her eyes. She wanted to get out, and she knew the only way out was to figure out a safe route. The only way to figure that out was to explore. So he nodded.
She stepped onto the platform, and with ease, Billy used the rotation wheel to push her up. He could hear her pitter-patter footsteps on the floor above him. Christ, this place was creaky. He hoped she didn't fall through.
At least she had gone instead of him. He smirked at the image of falling through the ceiling to meet Rebecca's wide-eyed stare. He almost laughed at the image.
Something was wrong with him. This insanity was getting to him. He hadn't laughed in so long, and in this fucking haunted house, he was laughing like an idiot.
He heard her open a door. "Hey, Billy!" she stuck her head through a door that had been jammed a second ago. "No creatures here! Come on, there's an abandoned room that might have something to help us in it."
He followed her into an open, abandoned room. "It's eerily quiet in here—" Billy was about to point out that quiet didn't always mean safe when a giant fucking bug busted through the ventilation system and grabbed Rebecca.
Billy just reacted. His handgun wasn't enough: he searched around the room for anything, something stronger.
Why the fuck was there a shotgun here?
Billy didn't question. He sent a prayer of gratitude to Anna, wherever she was, and checked for ammo. The shotgun had three bullets.
This was his only fucking chance.
He aimed carefully at the wiggling thing. Christ, it had at least a thousand legs. Fucking centipedes. He ignored Rebecca's frantic screams and concentrated only on the thing.
Bang
Bang
Bang
The thing dropped Rebecca and squirmed, retreating back into its little hideaway. Billy ran to Rebecca. "Are you okay?" he demanded roughly. "Did it hurt you?"
"No," she admitted sheepishly. "I mostly screamed because I hate bugs. I don't know why it grabbed me. It wasn't trying to kill me, I don't think." She pondered for a minute, then noticed what Billy held. "Where on earth did you get a shotgun?" she demanded.
Billy was reminded of Anna, so strongly in that moment that it was unreal. But how? They were nothing alike. Anna had been tall and thick and curvaceous, with long blonde hair. Rebecca was tiny and muscular with her pixie cut and her gigantic eyes and her shooting. Anna hated guns. Rebecca handled them as well as he did.
"I'm learning not to question the shit in this place," Billy shrugged. "Zombies and giant bugs? I'm not gonna question a shotgun. It's the most normal thing we've seen all night."
"Maybe someone else was here," she said pensively. She nodded. "People have had to be here. You need people to make zombies right?"
Billy winced. "I prefer to not think of them as people when I'm blowing their brains out," he answered ironically.
Rebecca was reflective after that.
Her unusual quietness wasn't necessarily a good thing. "What time do you think it is?" she asked him instead, getting up and dusting herself off.
"Probably closer to midnight," he answered. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten all day. Why feed the convict?
Rebecca nodded and began walking. "If there's a shotgun, there's probably ammo. We need to keep an eye out."
Smart girl, he thought and followed her. He noticed Rebecca walked with her hips, taking long strides that moved her body smoothly. It was strange to see her suddenly acting like the girl she was. Then he noticed she had sheathed her gun. He hadn't seen it before because her walk had always been the weary stride of a gunslinger.
Rebecca stopped at one door and opened it up, gasping in delight. "Look, Billy!" she said eagerly. "It's got no zombies, no creatures, and it's got a lock! I could use a break. There might be something important in here."
Like what? He wondered to himself. But he went along with her idea anyway. He listened to her ramble on about ammo and food and rest and the rest he sort of tuned out.
But he was interrupted. "Billy, when did you get that gash on your leg?" she asked disapprovingly.
He had noticed the pain earlier, but ignored it. He hadn't seen blood, so assumed it was just in his head. "When the van crashed, I guess." He answered, thinking of all the glass that had flown about.
"Well, let me see!" she replied impatiently.
"See what?"
"Your wound, Billy, what else?" she rolled her eyes at him.
"How?" he was bewildered by this girl.
"Take off your pants," she replied briskly.
He almost laughed at the look on her face that she tried so hard to hide. "Hate to tell you, dollface, but underwear isn't a luxury granted to people going to death row." He answered dryly.
Her face was beet red. "Well it's on the other side of your leg, so you don't need to feel embarrassed."
He fought his laughter and turned around, stripping from his pants and letting her look at the cut on his leg.
"Billy, you really ought to tell me from now on if anything happens. I think these creatures can smell blood." Rebecca told him critically. "Besides, I don't want you to run around hurt, if I can fix it."
Rebecca eyed the cut on Billy's leg. It wound down from the top of his thigh to the edge of his knee. She broke out the last of her first aid spray and felt gratified when he flinched from the pain.
As a medic, she ignored any part of his body besides the injured area. Vigorously and efficiently, she wound the last of her tape around his thigh and taped it. "Okay, you can put on your pants now."
Billy noticed the change that came over Rebecca when it was time to be the little nurse. The merest mention of taking off his clothing had her blushing magenta, but when it came down to it, she was calm and oblivious, focused on helping him.
Of course, now that he was fully clothed again he saw how red she was.
"Look, we've got crackers in here!" Rebecca pointed out eagerly, quick to hide her flaming face. The box of crackers was unopened, but Billy was still wary. "What if that's what turns them into zombies?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Zombies eat brains, not crackers. Haven't you ever seen a horror movie? Anyway, you're the one who's hungry. I'm just providing for you, partner." She teased him.
He laughed and accepted the food. Rebecca continued to shuffle through the room. "I knew it!" she cried triumphantly, waving a half-empty box of shotgun ammo at Billy. "I was right! I knew there would be ammo. This place is insane! Zombies, random guns, what next? Giant spiders or something?"
Billy froze. "Don't even fucking say it, Rebecca. You're gonna fucking jinx us. Fuck! You know we're gonna run into a fucking six foot tarantula now," he accused.
Rebecca burst out laughing. "Billy, it's okay, I'll handle the spiders."
"The same way you handled the centipede?" he asked dryly, his mouth full of food.
She glared. "No! That was a sneak attack. We don't bring that up again. I can handle spiders. Just not the small ones."
"You're willing to shoot zombies but you can't kill a spider?" he asked in disbelief, swallowing.
"It's my worst terror that, while I'm sleeping, a spider will crawl inside me and lay its eggs and kill me from the inside out. Big spiders can't get inside little old me. So it's okay." She explained.
It didn't make much sense to Billy. "Alright. I'm just letting you know now. I'll handle any fucking thing else, but giant spiders, I'm not gonna fuck with."
"Are you afraid of spiders, Billy?" she teased.
He ignored her and saw a dusty old piano. He smiled fondly at it, remembering the day he finally managed to wrangle Anna. How he had banged on the keys until she came running for him.
It felt so long ago. Nine years…
Christ, he was getting old.
Rebecca watched Billy as he smiled at the dusty old thing. He sat at the stool and cracked his knuckles, grinning at her. "Ready to hear a masterpiece?" he grinned.
Rebecca cringed, anticipating a ridiculous banging that they really didn't need.
But Billy began to play, a haunting melody that mesmerized Rebecca. She listened carefully, and understood how fantastic he truly was. She couldn't hear a single sour note, and while playing, something changed in Billy's face.
An absorbed expression crossed his brow, and as the music flowed from his fingertips, a peace fell over him, a calm that she hadn't seen the entire time she'd known him.
Which wasn't as long as it felt.
She put a hand on his shoulder as he finished. "That was beautiful," she told him sincerely. "Where did you learn to play like that?"
Billy seemed to be struggling with something internally. But he finally answered, in a wistful voice: "Someone I love very much played it."
Rebecca was saved from answering when suddenly a wall panel opened.
It was exactly the thing that happened in cartoons and mystery movies, she sighed to herself. But if it was sealed so well, maybe there wouldn't be any creatures?
Yeah, right.
"I guess this means we're going down," Rebecca's voice sounded pitiful, even to herself. She gave a longing look around the room, at the tacky furniture, the strange items, the shotgun in Billy's capable hands.
This place was a mystery. She supposed she shouldn't really be surprised at finding ammo and guns: the creatures had once been people too, and they would've wanted to protect themselves against the horrors here.
She looked at Billy, and knew he was following the same train of thought as she. "If I become one of those creatures, Billy please... just kill me." She looked at him suddenly.
His gaze was piercing. His dark blue eyes met her lighter ones and he was utterly serious as he responded: "I promise, Rebecca… that you will not become one of them. Not on my watch."
