XXIV. A Thing Called Alzheimer's
"Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it can." —Nicolas Sparks, 'At First Sight'
A week had passed but everything still felt the same. As Sheva walked besides Piers towards the nursing home his mother stayed in, she could still feel the ever constant weight of guilt on her shoulders, seeping into her muscles until it hurt. Having yet to tell Piers about her infidelity with Chris, she considered never telling him. She could choose the cowardly way—lord knows she already had in her life before—and treat the act of betrayal as if it never occurred, erased from her timeline. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him, right? However, as she looked to her side now at his expression, she guessed his ill mother was already killing him. Maybe keeping her disloyalty from him would actually be a lifesaver of sorts. Was it wrong to consider secrecy a lifesaver?
A word hadn't been spoken between the two unfaithful heroes; Chris and Sheva. They'd see each other at work, and even though their gazes might have lingered, neither found the courage nor motivation to speak with one another. So they kept their distance, avoiding the others presence at all costs and purposefully changing schedules to evade running into each other. As this week had slowly passed, Sheva's feelings towards the man were still heavily weighing on her. Longing for him, she would grow embarrassed as she relived in the fragility of her mind herself nearly throwing her body desperately at him the night of New Year's Eve. Guilt would rest heavier, leaving her sluggish and exhausted, depressive moods creeping all around her like the friend you couldn't get rid of but always returned to give you another stab in the back. And the most surprising of all three, she had had an anger towards him. A true, fiery angry with him for putting her through whatever you chose to call it and then having the nerve to push her away and send her to her non official boyfriend. Who cared if she had done that to him in the past, who was he to act like child and avenge himself in a cruel game of "taste your own medicine"? A child indeed.
But as if it was an alternate ending to her mixed thoughts and emotions, that same yearning to make things right and back the way they were would shine brightest and loudest, being the only thing she could think of at the end of the day. The selfish desire to be in his life on her terms was borderline impossible. As Claire would tell her how sullen he looked for most of his time, she longed to be his friend and companion, to listen to his woes as the friend she sought to be.
The quiet but persistent thoughts alleviated as the scent of metallic odors and bleach filled her nose, causing her to stop for a moment in the entry room of the nursing home. Adapting to the stench, her feet led her forward until she came to realize Piers was no longer by her side, but standing by the closed entrance with a frightened look in his green eyes.
"Piers," she beckoned, already knowing his panic was caused by the soon to be meeting with his mother. She may not be Chris's friend, but she valued the relationship with Piers no matter how disloyal she was and promised to herself she would be there for him in these tough times. His hand met hers as they linked and together walked into the activity room where a small crowding of seniors shuffled about. Some sat at tables or on the lounging couches at the far side of the room, some paced the off-white stained linoleum as others tried their hardest to get their requests across to the nurses.
Without greeting, a dark haired woman waved to Piers when she saw him, motioning for him to come to her and the older woman that sat in a chair close. As they approached the female duo, Sheva not only knew this was Piers' mom, but also noted that she was the youngest in this home besides themselves and the nurses. As they stood at the edge of the table his mother sat at, she could feel Piers clutch onto her hand tighter, asking through touch for her assurance. The woman that introduced herself as Viola had strode off as Piers remained silent, staring at his mother while nearly cutting off the circulation of Sheva's hand. Quickly stroking his arm, she held her hand out with her palm facing up and smiled at the not so old woman sitting before her.
"Hello," she greeted with all gentleness. "I'm Sheva. I like your ring very much."
Looking down to her left hand, the mother of the man next to Sheva studied the small diamond nestled on a gold band that twinkled on her ring finger. Admiring it for a few seconds, she looked up to Sheva with smiling eyes. "Thank you. It's one of my favorites," she bashfully admitted. She took Sheva's hand in hers and shook it carefully, studying the young woman and the man beside her. "I'm Janet. And you are?"
Her heart broke as Janet looked to Piers as she requested his identity. Tense albeit poised, Piers revealed his name and gave her a soft handshake. The way they interacted with one another led Sheva to believe that this was routine, as if Piers knew this was how it would go and he was prepared for yet another introduction with his mother. He and Sheva took a seat across from Janet and conversed as well as they could with someone who was triggered so easily. Sheva carried the conversation more than anyone, trying to leave as little gaps of silence between the trio. The entire time under the table, Piers' hand never left hers as it seemed at that moment his only source of serenity was her touch, and despite her believing she was quite nervous herself, she did her best to comfort him with physical contact.
Taking what seemed like five minutes between every bite, Sheva decided to warp her half eaten burger back up and set it on the dash of Piers' parked cobalt blue pickup truck and settled into the passenger seat as he continued to talk. After her first time meeting Janet Nivans, the pair had decided to get something to eat while he could tell her the history of his young life and what his life was like before his mother was diagnosed.
What he told to start out as a traditional suburban life in northern California, Piers recalled his childhood fondly. He spoke in detail about his long lineage of grandfathers joining the US Military and serving their country like the brave men he depicted. The high praise he spoke of them was as if she was listening to an audiobook of a classic written by a famous American author. The admiration he had for his ancestors was endearing and the confession that he wanted to be just like them, to continue the tradition to join the military and to be strong and brave men like them drove him to pursue his dreams. His storytelling led to his graduation of high school and enrollment into military academy. Not bragging nor understating his grades, he told her all about his success in school and the high honors he got when he graduated yet again from the academy.
This is when the conversation turned to more somber topics. Trying to think back as far as he could, Piers admitted that his mother had shown signs of Alzheimer's when he was a teenager. At the beginning, the worst occurrence of the mental illness was when she'd forget football games, to respond to letters in the mail, or something as simple as forgetting to brush her teeth. Then as years passed, it got worse. She'd soon disremember directions to places she'd visit nearly every day, she'd forget how to button her shirts, and fail to recall what the day or year was. It was at the age when Piers was 19 and Janet the age of 48 she was diagnosed.
At this point, Piers explained the long battle his father, Gerry, had with alcohol. It was only an insignificant addiction until Janet was diagnosed that his father became dependent on the variety of alcoholic beverages. He became a filter of the liquid, breathing like a fish in whiskey or to be more morbid, drowning in the acidic drink. It wasn't until long that his father was asking, essentially begging, for a conclusion; an out that would end all pain and loneliness. One night, his last night, Gerry had more alcohol than he ever had before and got into his car, driving aimlessly around town until he had hit a five foot tall cement partition on the highway at an extremely high speed, killing him on impact.
"My father was always a sensitive man. You'd think being in the military would have hardened him, but ultimately it terrorized him into submission, pushing him to dote on my mom. So when she got the results of the tests and sure enough, she had Alzheimer's, my father crumbled. His security was failing before him and he couldn't take it anymore," Piers had said as he blankly gaped at Sheva's clasped hands in her lap. "When he died, I... I don't know. I didn't understand at first. All my attention was on my mom and I had completely forgotten about him. Part of me was guilty that maybe I neglected him. I never once stopped and asked how he was doing. So when I got the call that told me of the car crash, I was just numb and unresponsive. My mother at the time could still remember him if I explained enough, but she couldn't comprehend death, let alone her husband dying."
Apparently that was a little over a year ago, about the time Piers was rounding one year's work as a pyrotechnic for the BSAA. The way he described his torn attitude between moving back home or staying in New York where the only position for a pyrotechnic was available, was so well told she could feel his decision weighing on her, as if she was sitting there next to him trying to decide what to do. The only branch in California was the Los Angeles office and at the time they weren't looking for anyone to join the pyrotechnics team, so his mother was moved to stay in a LA nursing home now that his father was gone while he continued his dangerous job in NYC.
As if a gift from an angel, or to be more accurate, Lewis King, Piers was offered a promotion to become a Special Operative's Agent and the greatest part of it all, a transfer to Los Angeles. Faster than a heartbeat, Piers took up the offer, anticipating what this new rank would bring him but also to be closer to his fading mother. Blessings and curses seemed to lay upon him frequently, but his decision was the right one and at the right time. Now that his mother was truly dying, slowly nonetheless, his time with her was crucial and necessary. This is when his story came to a temporary end as he told her his current struggles with Janet and hardships that seemed to be more prominent than ever in his life.
Leaning across her seat and giving him an awkward hug in the cramped space, Sheva pulled him in tightly and murmured her apologies that he had gone through so much on his own and that she wished he had told her sooner. He said nothing but accepted her embrace, hiding his face in her loose and wavy hair to escape reality for a moment. Not being able to hold it back but not being able to let too much out, the salty water flooded his eyes for a quick second and then he blinked the tears back, Sheva's hair soaking up what little tears he let out. Right then he wished he had told her all about it sooner. It was an accomplished to utter worries in the first place, so Piers didn't ponder over why he didn't say anything earlier. He just listened to her words of encouragement and comfort, her voice playing in his ears to calm any jittery nerves to the point she got him to feel peaceful.
"You have her eyes," she claimed as she pulled away, referring to the resemblance he had with his mother. "You got her coloring and also her mouth."
Running his hand through his hair, he thought about it. "You think so? Everyone said I looked like my dad."
"I've never seen your dad, but if so I imagine he must have been very handsome."
"Smooth," he winked as she giggled and took a sip of her soda. He watched her curiously as she rested into the chair, gazing out the windows and what looked to be thinking about something. Admiring her beauty, Piers knew that he had strong feelings for her, more than he had for any girl in a long time. There was something in the middle, though, he knew, and it seemed to be affecting any progress romantically between them. It wasn't a mystery that others thought it to be, but Piers credited that to his observation skills. He knew that it wasn't something, but someone standing in the middle. And the destruction this person caused pushed Piers to confess how he felt to her at that moment.
"Sheva," he called her softly, mentally preparing himself for the vulnerability he was about to put himself in. He decided to talk about the boulder in the situation to start. "I know there's something between you and Redfield."
Freezing like someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water on her, Sheva tensed with tight muscles and wide eyes, drinking in Piers' own demeanor to comprehend where this was going. She waited. Waited for his next move because she couldn't say something in the accident of saying or admitting anything she rather not at that time.
Her attitude change was obvious, however, expected. The degree of her visible uncomfortable posture was a tad surprising, but he accepted this because he had just called her out on something unexpected. "I don't how much you two have together or how much it's still there, but I know. And I'm not angry. Maybe a little discouraged. But Sheva, I wanted to say something because I know you won't."
Blinking more than necessary and taking deep breaths, she settled into herself and braved to look into his eyes. He had the right to know, after all, but this was also something unsettled between her and culprit. "Chris and I…we had something in the past. I ended it almost immediately. We haven't dealt with it completely and there are still a lot of issues between us. I admit things have happened that shouldn't have recently, but nothing more will happen. I can promise you that. All Chris and I ever had was a mistake," the words spilled from her mouth like a waterfall of uncertainty. "I would like to be friends with him still, but we haven't been talking as of late so I don't know what will happen."
A feeling of melancholy passed through his being when she mentioned something had happened recently, but he didn't miss the resentment in his veins when she stated she wanted to be friends with Redfield. She was her own person and she could be friends with whoever she chose, it was just Redfield he wished wasn't on her list. He swallowed back the antagonism and replied to soothe her qualms.
"I understand. I kind of had an idea when he started getting grumpier but it was only with me. My respect has faltered because of it, but I'll still follow his order." He declined her apology when she said it was her fault Chris was acting this way, because it wasn't her fault. It was the captain's way of dealing with something he wanted, taken away from him. It was fair, Piers supposed. "Look, Sheva. The reason I brought this up is because I want you to know that even though there's something going on between you and Redfield, I want to be with you. That is if you'll have me. I want to try out something more with you." The vulnerability in the confession was nerving, but it was something that needed to be said, to be acknowledged by more than just his self.
It became quiet for a moment as she took the request in. Could she commit to Piers when there was unfinished business with Chris? Could she enter the relationship territory and attempt to conquer her fear of commitment? Was this something she was willing to put herself into? Whether it was wanting to prove herself adequate, coming to realize the option with Chris was something she'd always run away from, or wanting to make Piers happy, her mind without warning was deciding to say yes to the man in this box of a pickup truck with her.
"I'd like to try a relationship." Before he could say anything, she raised a hand and gave him fair warning before it was too late. "Piers, you need to know that I'm not good at relationships. Saying yes is hard for me not because I don't like you, because I do. It's hard because of the commitment to someone who…who can hurt me so easily. I don't think you'll do that, but to put myself in the situation that it's possible is the fear that I have. Do you understand?"
He slowly nodded, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. "I think so, and what I don't I'll try to understand. We'll work on this together, Sheva. It's not often I'm in a relationship, so we'll take baby steps."
She sighed with half relief and unsettlement. He'd try to understand, he said. If he didn't or he pushed her to hard, she didn't want to think what could happen. It was about trust, she knew, another thing she needed to work on. But this was a ship she was stepping onto and it was ready to sail with her and Piers on it. Bon voyage, she thought sarcasticlly to herself.
To settle the conversation, he hooked a finger under her chin, pulling her forward to meet him in the middle. Her nerves translated to him when he met her with his lips. As he asked for entrance with his mouth, he wanted to make her calm like she had for him when they were in the nursing home visiting his mother when his anxiety was skyrocketing. As they tasted each other, he could feel her relax and he was grateful for the change of mood in her. He pulled away slowly, placing slow kisses on her lips until he was finished and looked to her closed lids.
"We can do this, Sheva," he enforced.
Giving a lazy nod, she finally returned his gaze and smirked at him. "So what does this mean? Am I your girlfriend?" she questioned playfully.
"As long as I'm your boyfriend and I get to write all over your yearbook, then you're my girlfriend," he joked, touching her nose with his.
It was settled and official; commitment, affection and all. God help her with this, she needed strength and courage from anywhere she could get it. Though glad that she had vaguely discussed her status with Chris, there was a nagging in her head, itching for her to notice and focus on the problems. She'd pay her attention to Piers, but when time was given, she'd try to figure out how to fix things with Chris Redfield.
Author's note: Is there a phobia of love? Because I think that's what Sheva has.
TheHappening: There was a cliff hanger in the last chapter? My bad, I hate those! But I'm glad you're enjoying it. :)
HolleringHawk65: I wouldn't consider it cheating either, especially with how unofficial Sheva and Piers' relationship is. But she must find something to be guilty about because it's Sheva! Thank you very much! :)
borismortys: It's a sticky situation all over the place in Sheva's world and poor Fat Marvin has to be the therapist in it all, haha. Oh, thanks for letting me know that. I have no experience in the military and I don't know anyone close who's part of it either, so that helps. I'll keep all that in mind. Thanks! :)
Sheva Redfield: You don't need to apologize, thanks though. I'm glad to hear that. Things going on with family can make your whole world stop. Haha, you tell Chris! Though, when I've been in that situation, all I wanted was to make them feel bad. Says a lot about me, but anyways. Good luck with student council! It'll all go great. :)
wolfspiritqueen: At least Sheva and Chris started the new year together, right? Meh, haha. Thanks!
Mss. KB: I think Chris *and* Sheva were taken by surprise by Sheva's actions on New Year's, haha. We'll get to Chris soon. Pst, he's not doing so well. Oh no, FanFiciton alerts are being sent as spam? That sounds terrible! Anyways, talk to you soon Karina! Hugs :)
ShevaGiulia: Haha! I told you this would happen a few times and it'll happen once more, I think. I know, I know. It drives me crazy too. So, the solution is just some good sex between Chris and Sheva? I agree! Thank you, my dear. :)
JustSomeGirl17: Oh no, it's all okay. :) Yes, Chris and Sheva's relationship will be just like Katy Perry's song. Exactly like the song! Makes total sense, my dear. The hypnosis on Chris and Sheva was spot on, haha. Thank you so much! Yeah, Alzheimer's is absolutely terrible. My grandma suffered from it and passed away after eight years of battling it. It's a tough subject but it's nice to know that you know what it's like. :) Arrivederci, my lovely china doll!
So the next update you'll see from me will be a one-shot about the one and only sarcastic butt, Jake Muller. It's about Jake and his mother, what she told him about his father, Bertie Wesker. I'm excited for it! As for this story, in the next chapter, we jump two months ahead in time and catch up with muscle man Chris. Well, kinda. You'll see. :)
-Sarai