Wesker
I found myself pacing to the point where I wearing down the carpet.
"Where the fuck have you been!?" I yelled as soon as Henry walked in-mind you, three days after yet another fatal mission for everyone except him. I restrained myself from tackling him, and then checking him over to make sure he wasn't hurt. The last thing I wanted to add to my mental resume was 'epic screw-up.'
He looked at me over his shoulder as he shrugged off his jacket. "Places," he said to me.
I bit the inside of my lip as I stared at him. "Care to elaborate?"
"No, not really," he told me as he put his jean jacket on the coat tree.
"Tell me where you were or I swear to Hell-"
"What? You'll kill me? Try it! I dare you Wesker, rip my heart out! Feel the blood drip down your hands as you realize you've killed me. Do it!" He unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt so that his chest was exposed as he yelled at me.
I froze. "Henry…"
"What? It wouldn't even be the worst thing you've done! Tell me, what sets me apart from every other person in the world!"
"You know why," I growled.
"Oh, do I? Please, refresh my memory," he said to me.
"I'm not playing this game," I told him, turning to go upstairs. When I was at the middle stepped, I turned around and saw that Henry was still standing in the same spot; he hadn't even moved a millimeter.
"A man was going to rape her." The words left his mouth softly as he turned his head to look up at me. "Going to rip her clothes off and leave her for dead. She'd stopped screaming, just accepted it."
I blinked as I realized the glittering spots next to his eyes were tears. "You were watching Rebecca?"
"Yeah. Someone has to," he told me.
"And you saved her?"
"Why wouldn't I? I happen to give two-shits about civilians when I don't have an escaped B.O.W. on my ass," he explained for me before shaking his head. "I need a smoke. Care to join?"
I sighed and walked down the stairs; he'd saved Rebecca. The girl I was trying to force myself away from but it was not working at all. "It's an unhealthy habit."
"You didn't used to say that," he reminded me. "Used to encourage if it, if I do recall correctly."
"I think the virus has muddled your brain. Should I take some tests?"
He glared at me. "What am I, a horse? Do I need to be in perfect condition to go to every single race in the world? Or is it that you don't want me messing up when you have me in SOCOM?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Not everything is about the next mission," I told him, irritated.
"'The next mission," he mimicked. "I'm freaking glad that Rebecca isn't moping around, fretting about you. It'd be a waste of a good woman," he growled, pushing past me and going upstairs.
"Sometimes I wonder if he's really twenty-four," I said to nothing except myself and the empty air around me.
*Eleven Days Later*
"Nope."
"Why not?" Henry asked me.
We seemed to be in the most ridiculous of situations; standing in the middle of a grocery store, the younger man holding up a turkey.
"We'd never finish it," I told him.
He growled and set down the turkey. "How about chicken then? You like chicken."
"I also like steak," I reminded him.
He sighed. "It's like talking to a woman!"
"Daddy, can we please get ice cream?" a little brunette girl asked her father.
Henry stopped short, staring at the family. A man with black hair dressed in a brown long sleeved shirt, jeans, and work boots. Two little girls, one in an orange dress with a cream cardigan and the other one was wearing dark green and a black leather jacket. The one in orange tugged on her father's shirt again.
"Please?" she asked again.
"Vanilla goes well with pie," the other one-the older, by the looks of it-chipped in.
The father sighed. "Fine. Helena, go get ice cream. Deborah, let's go get some cranberry sauce."
Henry stayed where he was, watching as the one girl walked away-rather angrily, I noted to myself-and the other happily skipped next to her father.
"Let's get a turkey breast," I relented, picking one that I'd been looking at up.
Henry turned around and smiled. "Sounds good."
We saw the small family once again at the checkout line. Helena was once again sulking while Deborah was rocking back and forth on her heels, already singing a Christmas song under her breath.
Henry grabbed the groceries as I paid and then we walked out to his Firebird. He sat down on the passenger seat with a sigh.
I sat down on the driver seat, hesitating before I turned the key. "We're a family," I reminded him. "Just a really odd one."
"Worse than the Addam's family," he said, leaning against the door. "Let's just go home. I want to actually try to celebrate Thanksgiving this year."
I hesitate before driving. I knew something was in Henry's mind, but not knowing exactly what it was had given the whole situation a dangerous edge.
The next day (Thanksgiving) I woke up rather early. Early for me is usually four, making rather early four fifteen.
Upon realizing that there was no possible way I was going back to sleep, I got up, instead of wasting my time pretending that I was trying to go back to sleep.
I went downstairs to find the TV already on (though, Henry seemed to have gotten a little bit lazy, so he might've never turned it off.)
I went into the kitchen, expecting Henry to be there, but it was empty. I went through every room, trying to find him. He wasn't in any room in the house, unless he kept avoiding me.
I should've heard something by now. Where is he?
"Henry!" I couldn't think of anything else except calling him. In a last ditch effort, I went into the garage-maybe he was working on the Firebird.
Well, the first thing I noted was the open garage door. The next notable thing was that the Firebird was still in the garage. Cautiously, I walked out of the garage and into the area surrounding the house.
"Why does there always have to be an ulterior motive?" a familiar voice asked.
I heard Henry laugh. "Don't play games with me, Alex."
"But you're so playable!"
I found the two in the stone gazebo. Henry was leaning against a pillar, smoking, while Alex fidgeting with the edges of his sleeves. Mind you, it wasn't out of nervousness-no, he was truly too sure of himself to be nervous-he was simply always hyper. Side effect, we all assumed.
Alex looked over at me. "Hello brother," he said, a smile on his slightly younger features.
Henry simply nodded before taking another drag. "Think we have enough for three?" he asked me.
It took me a four point seven seconds to remember what he was talking about. "Yes, I'm sure we do."
And so that was how on Thanksgiving, one of the most overly commercialized 'holidays', I ended up having dinner with both Henry and my 'brother' Alex. It is amazing on how one of the best-if not the best-spec op agents and two of the smartest men in the world can't cook a turkey breast all of the way through.
It made no sense. I could've sworn I'd done this with the Birkins only a handful of years ago, yet when the three of us tried to do it, it wasn't cooked.
Alex was chuckling at our frustration as Henry and I walked away from the turkey. "This is your fault," I growled.
"Oh, really now? As I recall, I tried compromising with chicken! But, no, all birds are below the all mighty Albert Wesker, aren't they!? You just want steak," Henry snarled.
"This is better than cable," Alex told us as he sat on the counter that was unoccupied by undercooked turkey.
"Shut up!" the two of us said in unison.
"Why don't y'all just order pizza? Or Chinese? Something edible," the black haired man suggested.
"Are you incapable of picking up a phone and pressing buttons?" I asked him. Henry chuckled and I glared at him, causing him to roll his eyes.
Alex reached over, picking up the phone. He opened a drawer and took out one of the take out menus that were neatly folded, quickly glancing at the number and punching it in.
Henry came over to me. "We're hopeless, aren't we?" he asked.
I sighed. "This is why I had mac and cheese in the pantry," I told him softly as Alex ordered.
The USO agent laughed. "Can I get it on record that you all but admitted you can't cook?"
"I can cook," I told him, "I just need a cookbook."
"You're a genius!" he reminded me. "Why can't you memorize the recipe in under five seconds?"
"It doesn't always work like that," I told him.
"Yeah. Uh huh. Right. You just don't like cooking," Henry teased.
"No, it's more psychological than that," Alex said, having hung up the phone. "Right?"
I glared at my younger half. "We're not going into this right now. It's a holiday."
"Did you hear that!? Now he pulls the holiday crap. He would so be the mom," Henry said, leaning against the counter.
Alex chuckled. "Damn right; 'Wesker the Mother' has a nice ring to it, right? Or would it be Mother Wesker?"
"I'm not living through this," I said to them, retreating to my adopted study.
"Tch Al, really? It's a holiday; spend it with your family," Alex told me, getting off of the counter.
I looked at him, my shoulders slumping. "Fine," I grumbled.
Author's Note:Was anyone at all confused by that? It's fine if you were. I feel like explaining it because I just watched the pilot of Sleepy Hollow on Fox and I'm officially freaked out, so here it is if any of ya need explanations.
Henry comes home a day or so after saving Rebecca. He says that to Wesker, Albert feels even more obligated to him now, yadaya, then it skips to shortly before Thanksgiving when they're at the grocery store (which in real life probably wouldn't have turkey so close to Thanksgiving, but heck, this is fanfiction) where they see Helena and Deborah (Harper) and it throws Henry off and makes him miss/want a real family (prompting Wesker to tell him that they are their own little dysfunctional family). Then, on Thanksgiving, Alex Wesker shows up (yay! The plot thickens even more ;p) and then it's just them being weird and I apologize once again if it seems choppy.
I will more than likely make up for this shorter chapter by writing way out of my usual word count in the next chapter because it's skipping to January (and Rebecca's birthday and also my personal highly anticipated reunion between Wesker and Rebecca. Or at least the beginning.)
Thank you to every single person who has reviewed! I have over a hundred reviews and that is truly just a wonderful thing! This is the first story of mine to ever do that and I'm so happy! Please keep it up (feedback is always highly appreciated!)
~HolleringHawk65
