Sleeping With the Enemy
It was noisy. That annoyed him. He stirred, someone touching his arm, shaking it. Chris opened his eyes to find Ada staring down at him.
Sitting up, he saw his shirt was ruined further, the left sleeve shredded, along with a fair portion of the same side of his shirt. Blood welled and leaked out of shrapnel cuts, and he wondered if any were embedded in the skin. He felt something sticky and warm on the right side of his head. Running fingers across his scalp, they came back wet and red.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I think so."
She helped him stand, lifting him by the arm and then places hands on his front and back until confident he was stable. Grunting thanks, he surveyed the area and ascertained he hadn't been out long. He was still counting three lickers and five majini remaining, along with the giant.
What was Krauser up to if he wasn't eliminating the big ugly?
He spotted him. Something was wrong. His movements were less coordinated and he was slower. He looked to Ada.
"What's going on?"
"Bastards sniped him with a tranquilizer. It must have been tailored for special types like him, because he's having a hard time resisting its effect."
Chris turned back to Krauser taking on all of these enemies simultaneously. He must have distracted or goaded them into attacking him during the brief time he was knocked out. He helped him.
"Guess it leaves a bitter taste in their mouths when we can easily beat their stupid tests."
"I wouldn't tell them that."
Looking around once more, he looked at her. "Alright. Get to the edges and try to stay out of sight. Maybe in one of those empty gated openings."
"You want me to hide?"
He examined her yet bound hands and feet. "Yes…?"
"Careful, Chris. You worried about me?"
His eyes narrowed at her cool and distant demeanor. "Just do it."
Giving his entire focus to the situation at hand, he wiped the blood starting to leak from his hairline to his forehead with the back of his arm. He noticed his whole left arm was a bit of a tapestry of bruises and minor cuts, and the glove on that hand was hanging off partially. Tearing the glove off with his teeth as he drew his handgun with his right hand, he decided to distract the giant issue foremost.
He ran across the arena floor, hearing Claire and Sheva making noise. Sounded like possible shouts of encouragement. Or possibly they were warning him not to be an idiot and run straight for an overgrown monster.
Krauser managed to bring it down onto a knee, parasites sprouting out of arms and back. He was impressed to see there were three remaining, one parasitic implantation already destroyed. But now he was staggering, faltering in the fight as lickers scrambled in to attack.
There was a choice and he didn't even think about it. Chris targeted the leaping critter and shot it out of the air. He fired on the other two, diverted their path and befuddling them temporarily.
With a stumble, Krauser glanced at him, sprang onto an upended licker, and stabbed it in the heart. He fell flat on his face afterward, and Chris caught sight of Jonah lowering a sniper rifle, having put another dart into his ally. Searching the rest of the onlookers, he was angry nobody was doing anything. They all just watched him put up with this crap.
Guilty for blaming his friends, he continued forward at a jog, gradually coming to a stop. The big ugly was rising, parasites returning into the damaged body. A flash grenade banged off to his right and he squeezed his eyes shut, turning away. God-damn-it.
He grabbed the arm of a majini thinking to hit him with an electric rod and kicked it away. Spinning, he fired shots quickly into two approaching fast. One took its head and the other shot deflected off armor.
The giant monster was stomping toward Krauser's unmoving form. Dashing past the other enemies, he pulled the trigger and swore. He'd forgotten his bullet count. It was empty.
Shoving it into the holster, he kept running closer. It worked to distract, the creature shifting to look at the moving thing. And a licker tongue wrapped around his arm, yanking him to a halt.
Chris slid the knife out and cut free, turning to catch a huge sweeping arm against his body. The force of the blow tossed him across the ground. He berated himself, knowing it wouldn't have happened if he wasn't so dead set on protecting everybody he could.
His head lifting from the floor, he saw his knife laying not far in front of him and snatched it up, dragging onto his feet. He looked around at the lumbering threat, the two lickers, and four majini. They all were coming for him.
Time to get creative. He removed the handgun, loaded the last spare clip he had, and prepared to move fast. Chris was tired, but he could push himself. He had to.
He took out two majini in three shots and dodged the lunge of a licker, racing past to the remaining pair of majini. They were unarmed except for the grenades on their belts, and he tunneled his vision to staring at that. On approach, they hissed, and he punched the nearest in the face.
While the infected was stumbling back, he used the knife to cut its belt off and then elbowed the other in the face when it tried to grab him. He mimicked the action of cutting the belt and then smashed the face of the fallen one with a boot. It died and he put a bullet in the face of the recovered infected now seething at him.
Holstering it, he drew the revolver and twisted around, shooting the two rapidly crawling lickers. They died too.
The relief was short-lived as he ducked a giant fist punching through the air. Chris abandoned the grenade plan for the moment. He rolled out of the way when it tried to hit him with a swipe. It roared, furious to be missing.
He aimed upward as the thing drew lethally close. Shooting it in the neck, it flailed backward, clutching its head. The three parasites burst through the ruined flesh when it fell on one knee. He holstered the gun, leaping stupidly onto the arm. Another leap landed him on the bent and broad shoulder.
Chris stabbed and slashed at the giant exposed parasite until it was drawing back into the body. But he wasn't having any of that bullshit. He drew the Magnum and blasted the disappearing problem. Thrashing and spitting fluids, the vile creature shriveled away.
The trembling monster squealed, arms hanging limply to its sides. It fell over and Chris held on until he was nearer to the ground, leaping off. Lowering the empty weapon to his own side, he watched the big ugly breathe its last and go still.
It was finished. He dropped to his knee and then let himself fall onto his rear, exhausted. The knife and revolver were put away. Guess he didn't need to acquire the grenades after all.
"Wonderful performance, Agent Redfield," Laura declared, sounding like she meant it. "We've concluded your kind are worth saving. Heroes and the like, the ones who sacrifice."
"Our desire is to preserve the human race," Jonah shared. "As it is, humans are destroying the planet. We'll find or make better humans, and the others who aren't suitable will die. Then there will be a perfect world."
Chris laughed. "You're dreaming! What a human quality."
Fixing the four of them with an intense glare, he didn't bother standing. "Everybody has faults. You can't go around killing anyone who isn't perfect. You'll be left with nobody."
Undeterred, Felicia rested a hand on Laura's shoulder. "Unfortunately, who you are specifically, makes you a liability and threat to our world."
Laura gave him a smug smile. "Initiating cleanup."
There it was. They always intended to kill him. He wasn't surprised, but pretty angry. Such bullshit.
Gates were rising somewhere unseen. He glanced around, no trace of where Ada had gotten to and Krauser was still asleep. His eyes turned to look at his friends and allies. Would they see him die?
He frowned. Jill wasn't with them. Why? Where would she go?
Something big was coming. Chris slightly gawked at the two creations resembling men walking into the arena from opposite sides. It was a good distance from where he currently sat on his ass.
He remembered them well because they popped up as bio-weapons from time to time. T-103 or some variation of it, dubbed Mr. X by Claire during her hellish trial of surviving Raccoon City long ago. Two tyrants dispatched to kill a single, worn out BSAA agent low on ammo.
His eyes sought out Wesker. Was he going to watch him die too?
Oh. Glowing eyes met his searching gaze. Wesker was standing in front of the bars on his far left side. So he would watch.
"Chris!"
He jerked his head about, lips parting to gape a bit. Jill was running to him, ignoring the tyrants ambling forth on either side of her selected path straight through the center. His old partner and friend had gone looking for a way into the arena.
Chris got to his feet, smiling at her. "Jill, what are you doing?"
"Need a partner?"
He studied the towering tyrants in black leather coats, gloves, and boots headed for them. "I assume you mean to run for the exit."
Jill unslung the strap of the machine gun worn to her back. "Think I believe you'd leave someone behind?"
His eyes tracked Ada, stooped on one knee halfway out of a gate opening to his right. He checked on Krauser's limp body and sighed. She knew him well.
He took out the revolver and loaded the single bullet he had left.
"That was pretty amazing, Chris," she said to him. "I can't believe you beat everything without much injury. They threw so many at you."
Confident of her own strength and ability, he immediately replied, "If you had to, you would be able to do it too."
She looked him in the eye. "Yeah. Maybe."
Together they examined the tyrants who were close.
"Make every bullet count," he advised.
"Don't get hurt," she shot back, serious, while at the same time making a critical remark on how he tended to take hits in a fight.
She was smiling when she turned away to face their enemies.
Chris raised his Magnum and lined it up with a head. "Let's take the one on the right first."
Without looking at each other, he heard her say, "Got it."
He shot the tyrant on the left in the skull and shoved the empty gun into the holster. The one on the right unsurprisingly reacted by picking up speed to reach them quicker. Chris jogged a couple feet and squatted, placing one hand on top of the other, palms up.
Jill darted forward. As soon as her foot planted into his hands, he lifted. She gracefully sprang high and landed on the shoulders of the rushing tyrant. Losing balance, it stumbled and she brought her machine gun forward, firing into the back of its skull and neck.
Nearly decapitated, the creature began to mutate and she flew off, rolling across the floor before jumping to her feet. Chris couldn't enjoy the small victory, however, because number one was stalking toward him, fists clenched. He stood and withdrew the handgun, Jill joining him with her machine gun at the ready.
Chris remembered the grenades. "Jill! Get the explosives. These things aren't a fan of fire."
She didn't seem pleased to leave his side but relented, spraying a wave of bullets in the marching tyrant's direction to make it past. The tyrant he was now dubbing number one, watched her seemingly fleeing. Creepy eyes fixed to him again and it broke into a run.
Finished mutating, the sexless and heavily muscled body of the other tyrant turned in his direction.
"Right," he uttered, and tried to move out of the way.
Number one turned with and punched him in the stomach. The power behind it sent him flying airborne until his back hit the wall of the arena perimeter. Groaning, he was fairly sure a couple ribs were fractured as he dragged himself upright.
He unloaded his magazine into the upper body and face of the leather-clad tyrant. Eleven bullets and it was hardly fazed, still coming. Chris tossed the useless gun at it out of spite.
The agent swore the damn thing smirked at him. Jill to the rescue, she tossed a grenade which erupted the mutated tyrant in flame for a few seconds. Seeing him literally back to a wall, she aimed the machine gun at number one and blasted it in the side until earning its attention.
But now the BSAA agent had two tyrants focused on her. He only had his knife left. That would be suicide probably, and definitely would be in his present battered condition.
"Chris."
He jumped, spinning around in shock at the sudden voice so close to his ear. The twisting movement jostled his hurting ribs and he winced, a palm resting against his stomach. Wesker stood a foot away, staring at him through the bars separating them.
"I require you to trust me."
"And I wish I could afford a better apartment," he snarked. "Not trusting you."
An arm extended toward him from between bars. In his outstretched hand was the Samurai Edge handgun he'd stolen from a weapons shop. He last had it in the room where he slept in captivity to this man, unloaded of course.
He checked Jill was handling herself okay and turned to eye the gun being offered. Chris grabbed the gun and took a step back. A quick exam found it was fully loaded, fifteen rounds.
"You're exhausted, barely standing. Recall my promise that I won't let you die unless it's on my terms."
"I don't recall that," he said with a scowl, forcing himself to laugh at the preposterous request for him to trust the bastard.
"I believe it was when you let me fuck you on my desk."
Wesker intentionally spoke loud. In the hollow nature of this room, it reached everyone's ears. The tyrants drew to an obedient halt, stiffening and staying in place. Chris saw a confused Jill slow and catch her breath, peering up to where the four kidnappers stood. Made sense. They must have ordered them to stop the assault somehow.
His jaw dropped, realizing they ceased the attack because they were interested to hear what Wesker was talking about. He had to physically remember to shut his mouth a few seconds later, when the asshole started speaking loudly some more.
"Perhaps you had a fantasy of a time when I was your captain."
Chris's avoidance of a blush failed as his sister, Sheva, and Leon moved closer to look at him. They were on the same side as Wesker, along with Hiro, although the latter didn't appear entertained by any of this. Why was he here again?
Apparently oblivious to their captive audience, or not caring, Sheva asked him a question, very loud and very alarmed.
"You slept with that man who's lost his mind?"
Well that was an awkward and unflattering manner of putting it. There wasn't really a good way of explaining the situation, but he tried. Jill was staring, he could feel her eyes on the back of his neck even when he turned back around to back out of that statement.
"While he was holding you captive?" Leon inquired. "He didn't force you, did he?"
He glared furiously toward Wesker at the thought.
"Oh, no, I can assure you, it was all very willing."
Now he was glaring at the guy. "Shut up, Wesker!"
"Chris, what is the truth?" Claire asked.
Oh, come on… He knew they were worried about him and it was concern driving their curiosity. Mostly. There was suspicion of perverse interest in his potential sexual exploits among each of the friends, who knew him as the hardcore, obsessive BSAA soldier and agent.
His expression lightened as he looked at them. "Yes, I slept with the guy, okay? I was kinda messed up from being tortured by your old buddy, Leon."
The man squinted, shifting his gaze to the unconscious Krauser before peering back at him. He didn't seem to know what to think about it, but seemed to accept it was possible for a bad circumstance to lead to something unwise or out of character. That is, until Wesker opened his mouth further.
"Now, now. That was when I had you in the bed in Africa. So go on and explain your reasons for suggesting sex in my bed in Wisconsin."
"I-I-I…" he stuttered, face blooming bright red. "I was working an angle, planning an escape."
His sister was aghast, Leon confused, and Sheva looked mad at him. He glanced at Wesker, mortified, and knew there was something to worry about when a side of his mouth curled upward, arrogant and smug.
"Hm.. It required the time on my desk? In my bed the second and then third time…?"
"Shut the hell up!"
"Chris, why?" Sheva demanded. "After what he did to your old partner? Those villagers?"
The embarrassment was fading, shame and guilt replacing the feeling. Wesker could always get to him. It was always personal, always had been. That was truth long before they set foot in a mansion outside Raccoon City.
"He put us in that forest all those years ago," Jill said sadly, wandering closer to him. "Lured us into a mansion he knew was full of infected employees and other freed experiments. We had to lose our friends one by one, find them dead or watch them die. I'll never forget that night and I know you can't either."
She didn't even mention her own captivity and being made into a slave for Excella, unable to control her own actions. How she saved Chris's life and almost died. The shame was becoming unbearable and his anger grew in direct response.
"I'll admit I'm surprised you perpetuate a relationship with an enemy," Laura said. "I'm not sure what to say, knowing you had consensual sex with a Wesker child."
"What does that matter?" he snarled in the heat of the moment, and realized it sounded like he was defending the man.
"He insisted on face to face every time, so you know it can't merely be enjoyment of the high quality of our sex."
Chris stepped forward, pointing the gun at him. "I'm going to kill you!"
He meant it too. Bastard used him and toyed with him and tried to hurt him whenever they met. His finger started squeezing the trigger.