First off I want to apologize for taking so long to update (started school) and for this chapter being so long! XD I just got going and couldn't bring myself to stop!

For those wondering Jill's 'present time' will be in next chapter alongside Wesker's flashbacks! Just tying up some loose ends that I feel needed to be tied before I move on any further. :D With that being said, I decided to bring in a character who in game files is not said to be brought into play until 2009. (He might just be a tad bit OC, but give it time, he still has time to grow.) I just couldn't help myself, and I felt to keep parts of the story going I needed to make a few changes here and there.

PS, even though I have done research, I have no idea how anything in the military works, sorry for any terms or words out of place. Just know that I tried my best! Haha. As always, thank you SOOO much for the favs/follows/&reviews! ;)

4itchytasty - Utah will be mentioned more in depth with this chapter! I'm sorry, it slipped my mind to mention last chapter that Utah was a part of the PerryVerse timeline. If you want to check it out it is by SD Perry and the book is titled Underworld. :)

Lili-Mai – Aha, huge fail on my part. XD I've just gotten so used to the technology surrounding us that I sometimes forget that we didn't have the luxury of an iPhone back then.

October 3, 1998 8:04PM
Michigan, US

A chaotic serenade of alarms bursted throughout the enclosed space as a slumbering Valentine was jolted awake by her makeshift partner.

Waking, her senses where overtaken by the panic induced atmosphere. Carlos who was fastened in right beside her was grabbing anxiously in the air; pulling down two oxygen masks from the compartment above.

What the hell is going on?

"Engine's gone out!" Barry shouted frantically from the cockpit, responding as if he had read her mind, "We're going down."

Oh god.

Slapping at Carlos' attempt to place the damn mask on her face, Jill unbuckled. With the blades conflicting against gusting winds of turbulence; Jill fought her way into the cockpit. Grasping onto anything she could, Jill pulled herself forward until she reached her destination.

Screaming as loud as she could muster, her voice barely covered the squawking of the engine, "What can I do!?"

Barry shook his head as he tried to take control of the failing mechanism, "She's ah goner! Ain't a damn thing we can do!"

"No! Barry! There has to be something we can do!"

How the hell was this even possible? They had just barely escaped the hellacious gates of Raccoon, and now this? What had she done to deserve these past few months of shit luck? After fighting so hard to save the world; while doing so, killing countless amounts of Umbrella's monstrosities, and this is what would be the death of her? This is what she had fought so hard to live for and see?

Oh the irony.

Growing agitated with his younger comrade's carelessness, Barry's paternal extinct kicked in. Pulling her fully into his territory he slammed her body harshly into the seat beside him, "Buckle yourself up! We don't have time for chit-chat! And I will be damned if I see another one of you dead!"

Only nodding Jill obeyed his command. Her hands shaking uncontrollably, her eyes mindlessly watching Barry speak into the radio. Silence dwelled around them, a ringing in her ears replaced the groaning of the engine.

Wide eyed, trepidation shot down her body like a surge lightning. Jill had found herself in these life or death situations fairly regularly as of late, and with that she had learned the feeling of apprehensiveness was the worst in existence; it was one of a kind, impossible to describe.

It's almost as if you anticipate that final blow just to get it over with. Like a gun to your head, you don't want the bastard to pull the trigger because behind frightened iris's you are looking over every detail of your life; your mistakes, your ambitions, your family…the little things, the simple things that make you the person you are. And with one click, one motion of a finger, whatever makes you who you are is blown away like gun powder in the wind. But…deep down regardless of everything you are remembering, you crave for it to all be over, for a decision good or bad to be made.

When you're free falling from the sky the world around you freezes, like a movie on pause being rewound in slow motion. She wondered absent-mindedly on what it must have looked like from ground view; a shooting star, perhaps?

She could see it all, the forest they had hotly drifted upon, the night starred sky which captivated its prisoner rather breathtakingly; smoke clouded her vision as ferocious flames engulfed the copter.

She could hear it, the cries of horror from Carlos, the frantic praying of Barry Burton, the slapping of the blades as they failed; the crushing impact as the heavy machinery compacted with the ground below, the tearing of metal as Carlos' cries became agonized shrills.

She could feel it all, her ears popping, Barry's tight grip as his hands conjoined with her, her muscles tensing as she awaited the crash; the shattering of thick bullet-proof glass splicing into her tanned skin, the heat, the cool air spewing in from where the back of the copter used to be.

And then just like that, it was all over.

She lifted her head from the dash as a swath of crimson overtook her face. Allowing the tainted air to fill her lungs, she found her body rejecting the action, her throat digging into her naked nerves like sharpened nails as a savaged cough escaped her body.

She felt lost, like a misguided ghost wondering in her own body. She was aware of what had happened to some extinct, though still her mind wouldn't allow her to fill any emotion toward it.

Carlos…Barry…Barry…Carlos…Chris
Chris is he okay? He is in Europe? Right? He has to be okay. Yes, he is okay. He is safe. You were only with Barry and Carlos. Barry…

Biting down on her lips to ease the aching muscle, she turned her neck; torturous pain boiled her stomach raw, the feeling nauseating; otherworldly. Trying her best to ignore the sensation her hazed eyes met an unconscious Barry. His abdomen expanding and contracting as he inhaled and exhaled. He was alive.

Barry's okay. He's breathing. Barry's okay for now. Barry's alright.

Her mind rambled in riddles, and if she was in the right mind to self-diagnose she would be fully aware of the fact that she was suffering from a concussion.

Carlos…Carlos…His cries…His cries…He is still screaming. Oh god… those cries…those cries…Carlos where are you…Carlos…

His continuous death penetrating shrills from behind her allowed Jill to know Carlos's location. A stabbing pain of a dulled knife erupted into her chest, her lower body felt as though it was disintegrating; denying her the mobility to turn around.

What happened…please just…please let him be okay…those cries…those cries…Carlos…I'm so sorry…

Her body was at its wit's end. Not even forty-eight hours ago she was hauled up in a clock tower; a parasite swimming in her bloodstream as the tyrant virus made itself one with her veins. Not to mention all the shit it endured getting out of Raccoon.

She had pushed herself beyond human limits and her body was paying the price. Unable to hold them high any longer her eyelids collapsed onto her tear line, masking her dilated pupils; black swallowing blue.

Falling into a deep slumber, Jill let the cries of Carlos carry her deeper into oblivion.
Forgive me, Carlos.

March 4, 2007 5:30 AM
BSAA Headquarters, Idaho US

Refreshing his mind he stared down upon the newest recruits of the BSAA. They were going over procedure; basic training on what to do during a bioterristic attack, how to control the situation, and most importantly they were learning the Achilles heel of the known B.O.W.s; training Chris himself had learned nearly a decade ago without choice.

It felt like yesterday. It all did, leaving a horrible after taste in his mouth; and no it wasn't the silk black coffee he had found himself addicted to as of late, but it was close in comparison.

One week had passed since he signed himself back into the BSAA. Much like he expected there was no arguments or questions asked when he inquired the board that his chair and position be returned. They welcomed him with salutes of pity; and as requested allowed him to take over for another division entirely.

After his homecoming Chris had caught wind of Ethan Crick's, Captain of the SOU (Special Operations Unit) Alpha Team, plans of retirement. Chris, who had been a part of the USAF (United States Air Force), knew the grounds of what it took to be a soldier and was more than qualified, if not overly, for the position.

Truth be told if it wasn't for Jill he would have never chose to be an SOA operative. He had never clicked with anyone as good as he did with her. They were the perfect team, one in a million; a rarity.

Chris would never admit to it but, after the betrayal of his ex-Captain, of whom he trusted with his life, it was hard for him to place his faith into someone other than Jill. And once he became one with the BSAA he would regularly turn down his mission orders if paired with anyone that was not her; unless it was a dire need bases, which happened rarely, though when it did he closed himself off emotionally to whomever it was; giving them no insight on his personal life.

Knowing this was something he needed to work on, Chris faintly remembered he had once felt comfort in having a team. Larger numbers in case something horrible were to go wrong, multiple people having one another's back; a win, win ordeal. Hell, the SOU was his and Barry's idea in the first place, so why not bite the bullet and dive in?

And that's exactly what he did.

Standing tall as the SOU's newly appointed Captain, Chris kept his eye on one recruit in particular; and had been for the past three days.

From what he had been told these rookies had no knowledge of what hand to wipe their asses with, let alone how to survive a bioterrorist attack. Sure, they had been given military training prior too, though in this line of work that would only get you so far.

They were naïve and cocky; Chris could visibly see this even while standing upon the indoor skyway, that placed at least a hundred foot distance between them. Their body language was distasteful, they lacked posture and obedience.

For example, how they carried their fire arms as though they were simple toys. And not to mention, how after being scolded by their commanding officers they would laugh without a care in the world; they were careless. It was a disgrace to even consider the thought of them carrying the BSAA's name upon their shoulder. They had no right...except one.

From the distance Chris could only tell so much, but by what he saw, he was more than impressed. The rookie reminded him a lot of his younger self; straight down to the tousled spiked hair. He could tell the young man had morals by the way he held his head higher than any other. How he took the training circuit serious, unlike his classmates who found the biohazard dummy target's a laughable subject. This kid was determined and devoted to the cause, and Chris truly admired his ambitiousness from afar.

Taking the last sip of his beverage, Chris watched as the rookie took his shot. He could see him physically exhaling as he mentally made preparations before pulling the trigger; lining the target for an accurate shot. Much like an art form, he let out a deep breath, pulling the trigger, he hit the target dead on.

Showing no hint of excitement, as though the strike was a disappointment, the rookie passed the sniper rifle onto another, taking his place at that end of the line.

And in that moment Chris knew that the SOU Alpha Team had just found their marksman.

October 4, 1998 6:45 AM
Michigan, US

Singed smells of gasoline baked into his nostrils as he forced himself awake. Opening his eyes he took it all in. The sky above shined a yellowing blue proving to him that day was right around the corner; the break of dawn attempting to bask them in its heavenly glow.

Looking to his left his eyes met a slumbering Jill. Her arms lazily wrapped around her head; protecting herself from the heated shards of glass which bathed her body; the sleeve of her dirty white sweater soaked in blood.

Unsettled breaths sprung from the older man's parched mouth as he placed all his strength into waking Jill. With a hand placed on her shoulder he shook her gently out of her unconscious state.

"Jill." Barry mumbled barely above a whisper; his voice refusing to reach its desired pitch.

After sending Kathy and the girls to safety, Barry and the mansion survivors figured it best to keep close to one another. Boarding up in Vickers abandoned house, they spread out within. Chris and Barry shared the guest room, Rebecca took over Brad's old room, and Jill, though being the lightest sleeper, decided she would sleep on the couch in the common room; that way if Umbrella's merc's decided to break in to take them all out she could be on their asses in a hot second. Knowing this Barry knew there would be no issue waking her.

Jill's silvered blue eyes opened; tensely shutting immediately as the break of day shined blindly into them. It's light making her pulsing headache all the more intolerable.

How long have I been out?

Barry cracked a smile, thankful tears welled in his eyes at the sight of her stirring, "Good to see you're alive."

Touching the gash on her head, Jill flinched her hand back, a hiss springing from her lips.

"Yeah. Wouldn't do that if I were you." Barry commented, trying to take in their situation best he could.

"How long..." Jill attempted to speak, her voice a croak.

Her throat was execrably crisped due to dehydration. How long had it been since she had water? Two maybe three days...maybe even more considering she wasn't sure how much time had been wasted since the crash?

Barry answered knowing what she was asking, "Ain't positive. Can never be sure when something like this happens."

Jill briskly nodded. Which she soon after noted as a bad idea; her vision blurred as the world shook around her. Closing her eyes, then opening them she luckily managed to regain focus.

"We need...to signal...for help." Jill rasped.

"Transmitter should have sent our location to Redfield. That's if it wasn't damaged in the crash." Barry turned to look behind him, the demolished back proving to him that there was no sense in hoping for a rescue. Course, he wouldn't give Jill that information until it was on a need to know basis. She was in no state to be worrying.

Jill only nodded slowly having nothing to say.

Like a fogged blizzard, her mind was unstoppable; continuously thinking one thing after another. She couldn't clutch on to any logical explanation as to why this was all happening to her. Exactly like that horrid nursery rhyme; her willpower to hold it all in was malfunctioning and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold up her barriers before they crumbled to her feet. Her control over her pessimism was fading into nothingness, draining her of all optimism.
Abandon hope.

Wearing the mask of strength as she pretended to be indestructible towards her feelings was exhausting. Who was she fooling anyway? Herself? Not anymore? Them…Maybe?

Biting down on her lip, though she saw no point in doing so, she held back the surrendering tears, refusing to give into any weakness. She could do this.

You're a Valentine, Jilly.
Sometimes remembering Dick's words of encouragement only made matters worse.

Silence planted itself around them as Barry studied the young woman who seemed to be too caught up in herself. This worried him. She was paling by the second, and he knew that wound needed looked at. But, what could he do?
Keep her talking. That's what Kathy made you do for Moira when she fell off the swing. When someone is suffering from a concussion you keep them alerted and responsive.

"Jill, it looks as though ya hit your head pretty hard. You think you could make a hike to the nearest town?"

Barry's question was inconsiderable; he even felt like a dumbass after asking it. She knew her head was to woozy to even attempt walking let alone hiking. Biting down on her lip to hold back her sorrow Jill shook her head side to side, only two words falling, "I'm sorry."

"Not to worry. I figured as much. You look damn rough."

Jill zoned out, Barry's words sounding as though he were behind a brick wall.
The screams. His screams….Carlos' he's quite…

"Carlos. Have you heard him?"

Shaking his head Barry looked down as he fidgeted with his hands; not wanting to tell her the harsh truth. After seeing the missing body of the copter he knew the kid was long gone.

"I'm not so sure he made it."

"No I heard him just...just..."
You've lost track of time. Its morning now, we wrecked early last night. There's a good chance Barry's right.
"No...No." Jill muttered in disbelief more so to herself than Barry.

Attempting to sit up another injury was brought to their attention. A gnawing rip of flesh introduced with a yelp of agonized horror as Jill gawked down at her pelvis; a piece of metal disappearing into her body.

"Damnit! Jill, don't move!" Barry worriedly shouted as he shifted his way to her; shoving the lingering debris out of his way.

"I didn't realize..." Jill said insensibly, her alarmed fear stricken eyes showing Barry the dilation of her pupils.

Shit. She needs medical care stat. She weighs less than a broom, you could always carry her on your back to safety.
Not to worry her, Barry kept his features serene, his voice composed, "Course not. You're in shock. Now hold still."

As Barry observed her, she looked him up and down, searching his body for any injuries. Other than the bruised swelling of his arm he looked clean of injury. Possibly a sprain at worst.

Barry sighed. It didn't take an Einstein to know it was deeply imbedded into her skin, "Jill, to be honest I'm not sure what to do. I'm no doctor and it's not my call to make. I do believe we need to remove it before some sorta infection sets in."

Jill nodded in agreement, that's all she needed, "I know. Which means..."

Tensing her jaw, Jill clenched her fingers tightly around the bar of metal pinning her to the passenger seat. Without giving it another thought she pulled as hard as she could; her fingers sliding sloppily over the crimson lubed metal. Her teeth clashed together as her face overcame with a suffering scowl, her forehead creasing as she grunted in horrifying discomfort.

It was an odd feeling. She could feel the twisting of the metal as it made its way past every inch of muscle, pressure; it felt almost as if she was going to pop her pelvic bone out of place.

Barry turned away not being able to withstand the look upon her features. He needed out, and he swore to himself in that very moment if he got the hell out of here alive then he would never look back. Ever.

March 4, 2007 11:54 AM
BSAA Headquarters, Idaho US

Chris had been in board meetings all morning, and so far no new data or information had be received for a mission to be placed into action. This meaning the board members, Chris excluded, were highly enthused, seeing as how that meant the US was in no immediate danger; though for Chris it only delayed his chances of finding Jill.

He knew he would have to patient and play his cards precisely if he were to outwit Wesker this time around; he could only hope she would be in one piece by the time he found her.

The thought of her becoming a B.O.W. had crossed his mind more than enough times to count. He was horrified that by the time he found her she would be mutated beyond survival; suffering for only god knows how long before he came around to put her out of her misery. It was his worst nightmare, and he could only hope that Wesker would find it in himself to spare her of such a fate.

Knowing Wesker he knew the chances of finding her alive were thin. Dealing with him was like stepping on a frozen pond, one wrong move and you were dead; trapped in his idea of what humanity should be.

Then again, what if he was hallucinating it all? What if the shock of losing her tricked his mind into seeing a corpse that night? What if she had truly landed in the deranged shores?

No. Redfield. Get a hold of yourself. She was there. You know she is out there somewhere. You can sense it. She's alive and we will find her.

Chris was making himself sick with worry. For now there was nothing he could do, it was all out of his power. He just had to trust that Jill would be okay until he could get to her; and come high hell or water he would do everything in his power to bring her back home.

Before he knew it Chris was standing right in front of the gun range where the students were being trained. After giving it great thought, Chris had fully decided it would be in everyone's best interest if he brought the rookie into the Alpha Team.

Stepping in he was greeted by John Andrews, former scout for the S.T.A.R.S. Exeter branch in Maine, and now SOA operative.

"Redfield!" He said enthusiastically as he pulled Chris into a brotherly embrace, "It's good to have you back."

Releasing from the man's strong grasp, he replied, "It's good to be back."

"I'd say so." He said with a gentle smile, not wanting to pry.

Chris crossed his arms over his chest, sensing John's uneasiness, he nodded in the direction of the recruit, "What can you tell me about him?"

"Nivans?" Andrews replied, then continued guessing that Chris wasn't aware of his name, "He was recruited two weeks ago after taking requested infinite leave from Special Forces."

"He was in the army?" Chris asked raising a quizzical brow, "I thought all recruits were brought straight in out of military school?"

Shaking his head 'yes', Andrew's toffee bronzed skin shimmered proudly, "Before Special Forces, Nivans graduated at the top of his class from DC's most elite military academy." Shrugging they both continued watching him, "That's all I know. Though after studying the kid I have come to the conclusion that he could be of use."

"I completely agree." Chris muttered, knowing without a doubt that the kid could achieve greatness, "Has anyone mentioned plans on where he will be placed?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But, if you want him you better speak up now. SOA is looking for more operatives since...uh…" Andrews stuttered realizing what he was about to let slip off his tongue.

Chris, who had been in this situation at least twenty-times a day, cut him off knowing the direction that sentence was going, "He would be of no use to them."

"I'll leave you to inform them of that." Andrews said turning away, throwing a respectful salute to Chris, "I've got to get back to my post. I'll see you around, Red."

"Yeah, yeah." Chris said gruffly with a tiny sense of humor sparking to his voice.

Turning his back to the recruits he made his way up to speak with the advisor.

Nivans. Let's see what you've got.

October 6, 1998 1:56 AM
Michigan, US

Caffeinated eyes stared out onto the deserted road ahead. They had no lights guiding their way, all sign of civilization within a twenty mile radius outside of, what used to be, Raccoon, obsolete.

You would think after such a cataclysm there would be media, or at least one nosy reporter digging around the outskirts of the demolished city for an answer. Though, occasionally he would find himself driving up onto the wreckage of an outdated collision, other than that, the area was isolated of all things living and non-.

Before this mess he was living comfortably in a world camouflaged with jocular content. A world where everything was alright; where everything had answers. Now, nothing was as it seemed; his whole twenty-one years of life had been a sheltered lie; and one thing was certain, there were no answers.

The past eight days had been one hell of a ride; a continuous battle that he knew deep down would never end. One day he was a rookie strolling into the city to be welcomed in by the RPD. Leon had been more than familiar with the area, even lived there as a kid, and in his mind he saw the place as a safe haven, a place where nothing could ever go wrong…Oh, but was he mistaken. What awaited him was a harrowing incubus and its treachery didn't end there...No, Umbrella had to bring out their money in-crested whips and place warrants upon every surviving victim's head, including his; just so they could cover their ass.

Now here he sat, driving a stolen van with four other criminals intact; all running for their lives.

The five of them were returning from their very first 'mission' as fugitives. While in route to Europe to rendezvous with Claire's older brother, an older gentleman, Trent, sabotaged the plan by informing the group of an Umbrella Testing Facility in Utah, nicknamed Planet.

He gave them all the need to know information on what was in store for them and what was requested; a codebook, only three of its kind, which would give access to all of Umbrella's hidden secrets. They were to steal the book from the overseer, Jay Reston, the usual prick in a black suit, and then return the findings to him, so that he, with their help, could take down Umbrella once and for all.

All took into consideration what they would be doing, all reluctantly agreed, and in the end where successful; thanks to Rebecca's learned thieving skills the book was retrieved, and the 'Planet' was destroyed.

Question was, why where they scavenging around where Raccoon had once been? Was it because Rebecca had a life there? Was it because Leon grew up there? Or was it because Claire still felt something odd about her brothers taking off to Europe?

The correct answer was; they all wanted justice for the wrongs that had been done.

Shifting in the passenger seat something caught her eyes. Sitting up she outstretched her arms, Leon seeing the moving figure out of the corner of his eye glanced over at her. Only seeing her auburn hair, he turned his attention back to the road.

"Pull over." Claire sluggishly mumbled.

Leon's eyes shifted back her way, his confused features lit by the illuminating dash, "Why?"

She's sleep talking again.

Claire, who was very much awake, pointed out her window to the inflamed forest; already fed up with his questioning. From the passenger side window you could see smoke rising toward the full moon, like a snake seeking heat from blacktop.

Claire wanted to kick the uneasy feeling welling in her chest. They had passed dozens of forest fires and surely there was nothing out of the ordinary about this one, yet still there was just something about this one in particular that made her feel as if they had no choice but to stop; like a force was pulling her soul into the calculating equation.

Chris is fine. Then again, it's not Chris that I'm worried about.

Uninterested Leon took a sip of his chilling coffee, "It's not Chris, Claire. He's in Europe, remember? Besides, if you want to get to him we can't risk losing time."

"I don't care! Someone is in danger, Leon!" Claire raged unable to make sense of where these emotions were coming from.

Why can't he fucking listen to me for once?

It had been one week and a day. One fucking week trapped without a breath of fresh air from this motley crew; and Claire wasn't the only one with these feelings. Sure, she respected Leon and was rather fond of his company, but he knew how to get under skin just as fast as anyone else.

He treated her like a child; which would be understandable if there was a huge age gap between the two, when in reality it was less than four years. She couldn't understand why every day since Raccoon he had treated her as though her opinions didn't matter. Almost as if he had signed on to be her protector; which was highly intolerable seeing as how she already had one of those.

No you don't. Chris is half-way across the world. You'd be dead and he wouldn't have a clue.

All she wanted was to be seen as an equal. To have her plans taken into consideration along with the rest. Was that too much to ask?

"Claire. We have passed several fires, none of which you felt the concern to speak up about." Leon commented, denying her request.

She was furious, maybe even past that point. She was done with this bullshit. Hell, Rebecca was younger than her and she had a voice within the group. Why the hell couldn't she?

That's going to change.

Not having to look to hard she found what remained of her so-called 'Redfield' backbone, "Pull over the damn van, Leon!" Her voice rising twenty times louder than before; proving to him that she was truly kissed by fire.

Knowing how Claire worked he knew there was no since in arguing; either way she was going to be irrational, he might as well just save his breath. Pissed off by her behavior Leon threw up his hands in defeat, his foot slamming as hard as possible on the breaks.

"Happy!?" His blue eyes shined fiercely into hers; the tension between the two inevitable.

Chatter stirred in the back.

"What's going on?" Rebecca who had just dozed off asked, rubbing her sleep crusted eyes clear.

"Bloody-hell!" David, who had been aware and awake throughout this whole conversation, muttered to himself, his hand rubbing at his forehead.

What have I gotten myself into?

"Trying to sleep back here, Kennedy, if you don't mind." John chimed in, his deep voice plainly sporting aggravation.

"Yes, very!" Claire responded, her face featuring that sarcastic 'fuck you' glare toward Leon as she unbuckled her seat belt; opening and slamming the door behind her.

A high and melodic whistle sounded from behind Leon; springing from the lips of their personal jokester, John Andrews.

Livid, Leon smashed his fist into the steering wheel.

Damnit, Claire. You stupid, stubborn woman.

Following her lead, Leon did the same. He followed her through Raccoon and he'd be damned to see her harmed after they guarded one another so well.

After both enduring something together that no human should ever go through; the two had grown rather close. They found strength in their friendship, and though Leon wouldn't deny his feelings towards the woman he lost in Raccoon, he also wouldn't deny the fact that Claire was growing on him just as much; if not more.

There was something about her that pushed his limits; something that he found comfort in that made him want to continue fighting this ruthless battle. She kept him motivated and as for now he wouldn't question his feelings and neither would she.

Not even a minute later and there was a trail of five following in behind one another, traveling into the pitch black forest to face yet another castrophe; not expecting to see who they'd find.

March 4, 2007 3:30 PM
BSAA Headquarters, Idaho US

Dodging out of everyone's way, the arch of his feet throbbed as their bareness skid against the locker room's frigid tiles. Every muscle in his body ached with ecstasy; proving that his daily, nine hour, training had done its job.

It had been a physically draining day; not that he minded. He thrived on all things difficult, and the more he could prove himself worthy of being a true soldier, the less time he would spend shackled up indoors away from the on-going war.

Ever since he could remember, when asked, "Where do you see yourself in the future?" this is where he always envisioned himself to be, carrying on the Nivan's family tradition; just like everyman in his family before him, dating back to his great-grandfather.

This lifestyle was in his blood, and while being in the Special Forces he felt as though he was cheating himself by allowing his skills to rot in waste. His body was made to be put to use; his eyes designed to bring peace into the world with focus alongside the single click of his trigger finger.

Within the BSAA he was home and there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Opening his locker he reached in grabbing his empty water bottle, finding his way to the fountain. Air condition froze his, sweat drenched, under-armor to his body; it felt revitalizing to him, as if he was sporting a built in ice pack.

Jabbering drowned itself out as everyone turned their heads to see who had just entered the room. Shocked, they all stood up straight, acting as though they weren't being unprofessional; even though he had grown accustomed to their childishness after examining them.

Chris Redfield stood before them all. He was a respected soldier; a veteran in eliminating all things dealing with bio-terrorism. Whom, with help, had protected the world this far, whilst throwing in his entire life. To be present before him was almost overwhelming; an undefeatable warrior god to their ignoble eyes.

One by one, they raised their hands to their heads to salute the Captain. They were all aware that if you were to empress anyone around here, he would be the man; little did they know salutes weren't mandatory whilst being at HQ.

Looking over each and every one of their goggling, groupie like, faces, Chris couldn't spot the one Andrew's referred to as 'Nivans'. Leaving him with no other choice.

"I'm looking for Nivans." His voice rougher than they expected.

Not sure what to say or how to answer, they all remained silent.
Could he have been in some kind of trouble? Like hell, they wouldn't sell out one of their own. And as Chris was about to speak up again, this time deciding he would add a bit more force to his voice, he saw Nivans familiar face dart around a locker and into view.

"Here." Sitting his drink down respectfully, he then fell in with his teammates, preparing to do as they had done.

Chris instead raised his hand, throwing aside his attempt to salute, "No need. When you're finished up I'd like to see you in my office."

His jaw flexed nervously uncertain of the occasion. He wanted to ask why he was being called upon, but thought it best not too question authority. Giving a single answer, "Yes'sir."

And with his single response Chris turned his back to the young men and was out of sight; in unison they all turned to stare at Nivans, endless questions and ignorant comments pouring out of their immature mouths.

"Piers, what have you done?"
"And I thought you were the best out of us, who knew."
"Maybe you're being recruited back into the military or whatever you did before?"
"Always knew you had some skeletons in your closet just waiting to be dug up."

Rolling his eyes he ignored the aimless chatting. Turning in the combination to his locker, he pulled out his change of clean clothes, then placed all his belongings that needed to be left for tomorrows training.

Could I have done something?
Killing it, he knew he shouldn't even consider the thought.
No. I've done everything required. Maybe he wants me to help mentor the others?
That has to be it. Why else would Chris Redfield himself request to see me?

Even so, it was a dream come true. Ever since learning about the BSAA and what it had to offer he had idolized Chris. He was the best of the best, what every newbie craved to become; as was his fallen partner, Jill Valentine.

Though Pier's himself had never bared witness to their partnership, the stories his ears were blessed to hear was well enough to know that the duo could overcome anything and everything; moving mountains at their wake. To him, they were a real life representation of what your favorite comic book superhero would have been.

Their tough backgrounds motivated him; inspired him to be a part of a life changing organization, one where he could fight for all that he loved and held dearest, and while doing so, bring his family name honor.

You could only imagine his heartache when he got word of Jill's death and Chris's demanded unemployment from the organization. He was devastated; it hit too close to home for comfort. Now though, he would have the opportunity in thanking him for all he'd sacrificed, and one day, he would thank her.

October 5, 1998 3:24 AM
Michigan, US

Paralyzing silence perforated the moonless dark as her contorted bloodshot eyes stared into nothingness. White steam birthed from her shivering lips as she took steady uneven breaths.
Jill Valentine, 'Master of Unlocking'. No. More like, 'Master of Misfortune'.
Even Jill found humor in the thought.

She had faced the reality that no one was coming to rescue them…not even Chris, though every time she caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye, her heart kick started with adrenaline thinking it was him; when she turned, to her disappointment, he was never there; no one was, and no one would ever be. Her mind was playing tricks on her; showing her hallucinations of what she craved to see.

With one sentence spoken to Barry, Jill had managed to jinx them all, "What more could go wrong?"
Stupid. Stupid. If only I had known.

Finding Carlos was easier said than done, especially seeing as how part of the helicopter's chamber insisted on hiding half of his body under its weight; a morbid game of peek-a-boo.

When they found Carlos, he was very much alert and aware of all that had happened, he was even talking normally as if it was a casual everyday situation. Barry and Jill knew that this was something they referred to as surge, a boost of energy before death, and that his time was drawing near.

His injuries were one of the worst Jill had laid eyes upon; and after the current events her eyes had bared witness too, that was saying something.

The bottom half of his body was blended into the ground; the metal which covered him weighed more than Jill and Barry alone, and though they tried their damnedest to lift it off him, it was no use; the damage was done and moving the metal would only make matters worse for him and their injuries. With no choice but to give up, Jill promised not to leave his side. It was the least she could do given their history. He stayed by my side when I was near death, I'm not leaving his.

While Jill shielded Carlos from the harshness of the weather, Barry who had soon after taken a turn for the worse, planted himself in Jill's arms, leaching to consume as much of her body warmth as humanly possible.

Why Carlos?
He had risked his life to save her, now all she wondered was why hadn't she been given the chance to do the same?

Her sad weary eyes looked over at his. They were amped open, staring absently into space; slightly resembling one of Umbrella's creation. Shadows from the dulling fire of the copter danced softly across his face; a lazy smile breaching his purple lips.

Jill knew instantly what was happening. Carefully pulling away from Barry, she clutched her pelvis; her worried brows furrowing as she crawled towards him. His eyes staring past hers as she clutched his cold hand; it was as though she was invisible.

"Carlos?"

No words broke from his grinning, death bitten, lips. His cold eyes blankly consuming something behind her. A chill ran down her spine as she sensed a presences; turning, her heart beating rapidly, she saw no one but Barry.

"Carlos, listen. Just hang in there a bit longer. Help is on the way." She was lying, and he knew it.

He could see Jill's beautiful silhouette, her water hazed voice barely audible to his ears as his attention grasped onto something more astonishing.

Was it an angel? A reaper of death?
Its rapturing light swallowed the darkness surrounding Jill. Its shadow the shape of a humans yet extraterrestrial; its presence feeling his soul with tranquility.

Jill felt hopeless. She couldn't dare lose another comrade. It was becoming intolerable. She could only beg even though she knew the fate he had been handed was non-negotiable.

"Carlos! Stay with me! God damnit!" She cried as she cupped her hands around his frost bitten face, "Not like this damnit, not like this!"

The unknown creature reached its hand out to him as it hovered down next to Jill; her face red, tears streaming out one after another. He didn't want to leave her in such a state. He had so many things left to say, so many pages unwritten...but he was ready...it was his time.

Looking over every little detail of his life, he knew it had been a shitty one. This was something he had dreamed of since he was just a child; to be freed from the brutality of the world; to finally be at peace.

Succumbing to death, Carlos stretched out his hand, his smile widening; a feeling of purity vibrating throughout his dying body. His eyes showing one last beam of life as his soul was brought to rest.

Jill watched unknowingly, her sobbing pleas for him to stay turning into horrific shrills of mourning. Her silver eyes welling with waterworks; anger spread throughout her as she watched his body take its last breath.

He's gone. He's fucking gone. You could have done more. He scratched your back, he saved your life! Why the fuck couldn't you do the same? You worthless selfish bitch.

She hated herself. She hated everything and everyone.
How the hell could you let this happen to someone so honorable?
Screaming at the top of her lungs, she killed the pain as she stood up. Her fists welling in unison with her legs as she indulged in easing the guilt; attempting to destroy what killed him. Barry's startled eyes shifted awake by the mournful commotion. Ignoring his needs he sprang to Jill's side; already aware of what must have happened.

Pulling her into a straight-jacket embrace; he fell to the ground with her as her knees gave out.

Soothingly, he petted her head, something he had done for his daughters time after time, as her cries lengthened. Jill's body shook as she let out all that she had been holding in since that horrid night at the Spencer Estate.

October 6, 1998 11:08 AM

With her knees pulled protectively into her chest Jill listened nauseously to the sound of rabid animals fighting ferociously over the remains of Carlos' body. She didn't know which was worse, the sound of them romancing over his corpse, or the fear of them smelling the fresh meat that was her and Barry. Either way she didn't want to think about it. Freeing her mind, it hobbled to one subject after another.

What possessed her to move to Raccoon in the first place?

Because if you didn't you would more than likely be behind bars like Dick.
Why had she taken that stupid fucking job in the first place?
Don't lie, you know half the reason was because you found the STARS Captain decently attractive. Oh, don't you also realize you were crushing on the very man who destroyed your fucking life and killed half the fucking team?
Why did she where this god damn outfit?
Because you're ignorant.
Why didn't she fucking go with Chris and make everyone's life easier?
Ditto to the last response.

She had gotten herself into this mess; she, herself dug this hole and there was no sense of trying to get out because once she did, something else would spring from the mouth of Satan, like always, and she would have to fight her way out all over again. It was a repeating cycle; exactly the same every time.

She wanted to die. Simple as that. Instead of mentoring her to be a damn good team member of STARS, why couldn't Wesker have just pulled the fucking trigger at the coffee shop? He played her. He played them all, and now because of him and all his bullshit lies, she, alongside all the others, was in this mess.

One of several in Umbrella's freak Carnival.

It wasn't her or anyone else but him, she hated. She hated him with every ounce of her being. He was a fucking monster, and possibly even Lucifer himself. If she lived through this, she wouldn't stop until she got revenge.

October 6, 1998 2:17 AM

Since they had abandoned the van the group had placed all conversation on mute; the only sounds audible was those of their footsteps crunching down on the fallen autumn leaves as saccade's sang a cold symphony into the burning night.

A strong intoxicating smell of burning metal and gas made Rebecca wheeze; a sneeze awakened into the air startling everyone. Claire and Leon turned around; John and David turned to face her with bulging eyes, "Jeez, it was only a sneeze. Relax." She commented with a drained melodic laugh.

John chucked to himself tiredly, "Can't relax after the shit we've seen Bec's. You know that."

She shrugged knowingly, "I know. Sorry."

"S'okay." Claire muttered sheepishly.

Continuing their hike Rebecca, David, and John carried on chattering from behind as Claire and Leon picked up on their own conversation.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted back there." Claire apologized, something she had always found rather hard to do. Now, she felt she had no choice; who knows he could easily die before she ever got the chance.

Leon who was nothing but tired responded, "It's understandable, besides, I needed to stretch my legs."

"You're such an ass." She commented with a subtle smile; Leon watched as it faded, her eyes dropping to her invisible feet, "Do you think Chris is okay?"

Leon knew the chances were slim, then again from what he had heard about Chris he knew he wasn't your average guy; he was a Redfield after all, and after spending time with Claire he had learned more than once that their bunch is one hell of a headstrong family.

He gave a nod, his gentle gaze capturing hers, "Not a doubt in my mind."

That's all she needed; spoken reassurance that her brother was alive and kicking.

Shifting the subject Claire kept their casual conversation going, "Ya know, I haven't gotten the chance to ask you and now is as good a time as ever; do you have any siblings?"

"Yeah, little sister. Though, I wish we were, we aren't as close as you and Chris."

Claire couldn't imagine not being close to Chris. He was all she knew growing up; he taught her everything about life; he was the one who to tuck her in at night; who she ran to when nights were too scary to handle alone; who cooked her meals; who made sure everything she wanted was available to her; hell he had even learned how to braid…he had given the better half of his life to her; a debt she could only pray she would have the chance to repay.

Claire lost in thought, not knowing what to say or how to comment to his response; Leon continued sensing her uneasiness, "It's alright, and once we are out of dodge I will be taking a long vacation to see her."

Claire was about to speak when they came upon the clearing. Dead in her tracks she stopped, Rebecca who wasn't paying attention ran into her. Ignoring that fact Claire's mind froze. All eyes but Leon's widened at the sight, their jaws dropping when they caught glimpse of the familiar faces of Jill Valentine and Barry Burton.

"Well, shit Claire. Looks like you have a touch of the 'shining'." John joked trying to break the ice. David slapped his shoulder giving him a disapproving look.

How is this possible? Didn't Jill join Chris? Does this mean…No…

Taking in the fire lit scenery Claire noticed a hand laying out from a piece of the copter. Her heart stopped, dropping into her stomach, and before she knew it her legs were running as fast possible. She needed answers.

Was that Chris? Please, God…don't let that be Chris.

Reaching the shredded body Claire whelped with thankfulness. It was unforgivable for her to feel so relieved to see that the body wasn't of her brother, but of someone else; at this moment she could care less of her selfishness.

Taking an easy breath Claire turned to look at Jill and Barry, the others were already at their side. Making her way to them Rebecca left Barry, who was awake and moving, to check on Jill. Her expression faltering as she checked Chris's partner.

"No...no..." Rebecca whispered frantically as Claire made it to them. Leon had no idea who the woman was having never seen any of the STARS, except Chris; he made a good guess at it though.

"What's wrong?!" Barry asked, his voice hurtfully breaking, "I didn't mean to doze off…"

"Leon, take Barry on to the van." Rebecca commanded as she laid Jill flat on the ground; her ear pressing against her chest.

Noticing the body in which Claire first thought was Chris, David and John made their way over to it. Carlos' body was torn into pieces, his face sliced open with gruesome bite marks; his upper body now pulled away from its lower half; his chewed organs laid spread out all over the surrounding grass.

"Bloody hell." David muttered through his thick accent.

"You're right on the money, my friend." John commented staring down.

Putting her head to Jill's chest, Rebecca could hear a faint heartbeat. Ripping open her chest she seen the problem; her whole upper chest swelled with a massive bruise. Leon who attempted to get Barry out of view got a swift punch to the face; Leon took the hit like a man and wiped the blood from his nose.

Barry was at Jill's side, as was Claire; blocking Rebecca's light; the whole ordeal pure chaos.

Agitatedly focused she looked at them both, "Get the hell out of the light! She's dying! Move! If you want to help me, pass me my damn bag!"

Claire stood up and as she did Rebecca turned toward Barry, "Listen, I will save her but to do that I need you to follow Leon and John back to the van." Moving the conversation toward the others, Rebecca continued, "I need the car heated and ready. David you stay with me, Claire and I will need your help carrying Jill back."

All nodded and Barry stood up, taking one last glance at Jill before he followed. Claire who had returned with the bag opened it up then looked to Jill.

"What's wrong with her?"

David seeing this once before answered for Rebecca who was cleaning her equipment, "Cardiac Tamponed. Her bodies not pumping enough blood due to the blood built up around her heart."

Horrified Claire continued rambling, "Will she be okay? Chris will lose his shit if I let something happen to her."

"You aren't letting anything happen to her, Claire. Whether she lives or dies, this isn't yours to be blamed for." David said trying to ease her conscious, but instead made things worse.

She's going to die and Chris won't get to say goodbye.
Tears filled her eyes at the thought. Though she had only met Jill a handful of times she knew what the woman meant to her brother. She was all Chris talked about, and there was no doubt in her mind that her brother had feelings for her.

Rebecca chimed in, a scalpel in hand, "She's not going to die! I won't let that happen."

Deciding it best to do a pericardia window; Rebecca sliced open a tiny slit of her chest, then after with the other hand, she forcefully shoved a gauged needle into her chest; blood instantly shot out from the other end like a waterfall.

Resuscitated, Jill opened her eyes; and she knew right then and there she owed Rebecca Chambers her life.

Little did she know the circumstances they would find each other reunited within.

March 4, 2007 4:16 PM
BSAA Headquarters, Idaho US

Staring down at the black journal he debated on whether or not to open it. The passing months had been afflicting without hearing her spoken thoughts. She was always so open with him about her present day life; always speaking her mind. He knew everything from her sleep schedule to her favorite song. She laid it all out for him…then again after being with someone for eight years that was easy to do.

When it came down to her past, it was a completely different story. When brought into a conversation she would always retort to changing the subject or give him fragmented details here and there on what she saw as the 'little things'.

He was aware of her feelings toward Dick; having two parents like him, Chris could more than relate. Still, he felt there was a whole other woman he didn't know; a stranger. And he regretted more than anything not asking her more.

Her personal diary was held in his uncertain grasp.
If she wanted you to know she would have told you. Leave it to rest.

'Leaving it to rest' was something he couldn't bear any longer. Forcing his hand to open the journal; pounding knocks sounded at his door.
Saved by the bell?
For now her secrets were anyway.

Tossing the journal recklessly in a drawer he proceeded to answer the knock; his voice startled as if he had gotten caught red handed for stealing, "Come in!" Damnit, Jill. The hold you still have over me.

Entering Piers felt that his heart was going to burst out of his chest.
You'll find out soon enough what this is all about.
He thought as he made his way to greet Chris.

Standing up, Chris held out his hand to Piers, who took it without hesitation. Then after pulling away, Chris sat down, gesturing for Piers to do the same, "Have a seat."

Not knowing what to say, Piers took a seat, hoping that he had made a good first impression.
What if you stepped out of bounds during training? What if you're out? Quit doubting yourself, dipshit.
Piers couldn't recall one time in his entire life where he had been so nervous. This was unnatural; he was more than confident, never had he once doubted himself. He was a Nivans for fucksake, and Nivans' were known for their composure.
Hold it together.

Clearing his throat Chris slid a stapled stack of papers, on his desk, in front of Piers, who looked down in awe uncertain of what was happening. Glimpsing over it, he looked up at Chris; his face like a deer in headlights.

"Sir, I'm not sure of what you're trying to inform me."

"Piers." Chris stated, learning his name before the encounter, "Alpha Team is in need of a marksman, and after watching you I'm sure you're just the guy we are searching for."

His mouth drew long, "Sir, I don't understand. How is this possible? I'm..."

"More than qualified." A sincere compliment sprouting from his mouth.

Piers couldn't believe his ears; this scenario a dream he never wanted to wake from. His youthful face struck with unimaginable accomplishment, the look making a real smirk plaster itself upon Chris's rugged features.

Chris remembered what it felt like; being young and achieving greatness. That very feeling of having the world on your side; a never-ending high. It all felt like a completely different life time. He had grown tired of the man he had become. He was hardened, paralyzed towards any emotion but uncertainty; someone he had promised himself he would never be. Every time he caught himself looking in a mirror he was repulsed; scars and wrinkles cloaked the naïve boy he once was. He missed his simple life, a life without worry and pain; a life that could never find its way back to him; those chapters of his book had already been written out in black sharpie.

Chris nudged the packet toward him, placing a pen on top of the document, "I'll let you think it over."

His mind was made, he already knew what he wanted, "Sir, I don't need to think over it. I'd be more than honored to follow under your command."

"You're aware of what you will be giving up?"

Chris could feel his heart break while asking the question. He was asking someone to throw away their life. Yes, for a good cause, but at what cost was it truly worth? If he could go back to the start and redo everything, he would in a heartbeat. He would think his entire life through before he signed a contract outlined in death; and he would have forced Jill into a life she deserved.

She deserved a husband who was home from work in time to cook her dinner, who would massage her every night, and then afterwards make love to her like it were their first; while living in a two story house, with a back yard big enough for all their beautiful children to enjoy. That's what life should have rewarded her with, that's what he should have given to her. Instead he allowed her to be captured; or worse.

Piers could see the pain surfacing across Chris's face; he was thinking of her. Biting into his inner cheek he skimmed his mind for any reason not to sign onto his ambitions, coming up with zero.

Knowing he should bite he tongue, Piers continued on anyway, "You're thinking of Jill, aren't you?"

Jill. Her name was all he heard. Since being back everyone had stumbled around the subject of her, it was as if she never existed; as if she never joked with half these guys, walked these halls, or ate in the cafeteria. She wasn't a ghost here, she was a distorted memory that everyone was trying to forget, and it nauseated him.

Hearing her name was a relief; giving him the feeling his lungs needed to fully function.

"Yes."

Piers locked eyes with Chris, knowing that Chris needed to hear what he had to say, "Sir, I mean no disrespect by bringing her into a conversation. I just need you to know she hasn't been forgotten, and from my personal perspective she was a hero, giving her life so selflessly…that Sir, that takes…."
Chris sat back wordlessly; Piers' gaze not faltering from his own, "I know, I don't know you. And I never knew her, but I know without a doubt she cared for you. Because that was an act of love."

Piers was raised to say what was on his mind. His mother always told him 'Honesty is the best policy. Even when someone doesn't want to hear, don't hold it in for that means you are holding back on yourself.'

Piers continued, "Yes, I know what I'm giving up, Sir. And I want you to know that I am handing it all over to honor her memory."

Chris could feel the tears trying to submerge out of his eyes. Either alive or dead, Piers was correct; his words were something Chris needed to temporarily patch a tearing hole in his soul. Looking away from the recruits gaze, Chris stared out the window, so not to get emotional.

Scratching of pen on paper, brought Chris back into reality. Looking over he watched Piers skim over and sign every sheet, until there was nothing left.

Not a word spoken between the two, Chris broke the silence as Piers stood up, "Thank you."

Piers nodded, a half smirk pulling to his cheek, "You're more than welcome, Sir."

Turning his back to walk out the door, Chris spoke up, "Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, Four AM sharp, I want you bright eyed, bushy tailed, and ready to train with me. Do you copy?"

"Copy that."

His office door closed shut, leaving Chris alone with only his thoughts.