Chapter 35: The Revelation
"Is he seriously asleep?" Someone asked.
"Well, he's not exactly young, now is he?" Another snorted.
"Chris? Chris, wake up! You're missing the party, old man!" A third said.
Chris grumbled and swatted at the hand that was pushing at his shoulder. When it became increasingly obvious that the hand would not stop, he begrudgingly opened his eyes. Even with his sunglasses on, he had to squint against the sunlight in his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on.
"Wha – what's wrong?" He asked, trying to rouse himself to alertness, blinking rapidly.
He heard laughter before the face in front of him finally came into focus – Piers, smiling as brightly as the sun that was shining on his face. Chris blinked at him owlishly as his young friend shook him by the shoulder again.
"Hey, calm down! Your sister didn't catch you sleeping, so you're safe. For now," Piers said with a chuckle, then punched him lightly as he took a seat in the cheap lawn chair beside the one Chris was occupying. "But you better stay awake. She'll be out here soon."
"Yea, Chris. She'd kill you if you missed it," a woman said, and Chris jerked his gaze across the ring of chairs to see Jake and Sherry curled together on a patio couch. Chris blinked, unable to process what was happening or connect the dots as Jake raised a beer to him in greeting and said, "Welcome back to the land of the living, old man."
Chris grunted, confused, as whatever conversation Sherry, Jake and Piers had been having continued. He looked around – he was outside somewhere. He didn't know where, but somehow he knew it was somewhere safe. The grass here was green; thick and cool where it touch his naked feet and tickled his ankles. They were sitting beneath the shade of a great oak tree, and ahead of him he could see a large, quaint house with a back porch and open double doors. People were bustling around inside, but he couldn't tell who or how many. There was a dog sitting in the grass to his left, gnawing contently on a bone, and all around him there were empty lawn chairs.
He jerked sharply when something cold and moist touched his shoulder, only to find Piers holding out a cold beer to him. Piers' large smile almost distracted from his mismatched eyes, but that large smile quickly fell as something about Chris' behavior obviously tipped him off. His tone was concerned when Chris finally took the beer from him.
"Hey, you okay? You getting old on me or something?"
"Wha – no, I just…"
"Of course he's getting old, the man's practically ancient," Jake said smoothly.
Sherry elbowed him and rolled her eyes.
"Hey you guys, you better not be getting into the beer without me!" Another familiar voice said, and Chris turned just in time to see Leon approaching them in nothing but a pair of well-worn jeans and a nice button down shirt. Chris blinked, then realized that he, Jake and Piers were similarly dressed. And Sherry was dressed in a flattering little sun dress that was obviously driving Jake mad if the way he kept brushing his fingers over the pale slope of her bare shoulder was anything to go by. It was altogether domestic in a way that he hadn't experienced in, hell, years – and he couldn't quite catch his bearings as Leon sat in an open lawn chair beside him.
"Hey, you okay?" Leon asked, eyes bright and playful as he got settled.
"Uh, yeah," Chris said, trying to mask his suspicious gaze as he tried to connect the dots. "Yeah, it's just been a long day."
"I imagine. If anything, your job has only gotten more complicated. I'm glad you were able to get away from the office. I know it means a lot to Claire," Leon said.
"Right? She texted me twice to make sure that Chris had left the office on time," Piers laughed.
"Sounds like Claire," Leon said.
"And you were able to get away from the DSO for a day?" Chris asked, trying to go with the flow.
"The DSO…?" Leon looked at him strangely and leaned forward in his chair to better regard Chris, suddenly serious, "Chris, I haven't worked for the DSO for two years… You sure you're okay?"
Chris opened his mouth to try and explain himself, only to be interrupted as movement on the porch caught Leon's attention.
"Claire, babe, let me help you with that!" He said and rushed over to the porch to where Claire stood, a large tray of sandwiches balanced in her hands. Chris watched her with wide eyes as he took in the healthy glow of her skin and the slight extra weight he had never noticed on her before. He wondered if it had really been so long that he wouldn't have noticed. She had her hair in a thick braid over one shoulder, and there were a few flecks of white in there that Chris couldn't help but wonder if he was imagining them or not. But now that he saw one on his sister, he saw them on Leon too – hiding in his temples beneath the fringe of his well kept hair.
"I'm fine, Leon," Claire said with some frustration, but not without a hint of amusement as the American agent – or ex-agent, Chris wasn't sure at this point – took the tray from her hands. She sighed and put her hands on her hips as she watched him place the heavy tray on the picnic table.
"You know what the doctor said, babe," Leon said, and Chris just held onto the armrests of his lawn chair and waited for the world to stop spinning as Leon guided a mildly offended Claire back into the house.
"Chris, are you sure you're doing okay?" Piers asked.
"Is Claire sick?" Chris asked, afraid of what the answer might be.
"Sick…? No, she's not sick anymore. That was a long time ago, Chris… She's in remission, you know that," Piers said, then perked up as two familiar figures joined them in the backyard. "Sheva! Josh! Over here!"
"Remission…?" Chris whispered before he turned to watch his two friends walk over. Both were done up in BSAA regulation formal dress attire.
This must be a dream, Chris thought as he exchanged handshakes and warm gestures with his friends. Wind blew warmly across the field of the backyard, sending the grass into an alluring dance all around them as Sheva told him all about the ceremony they barely managed to escape from on time.
"You should have heard the speech she gave the men, Chris," Josh said, a warm look in his eye as he smiled at Sheva. "You would have wept."
"I wouldn't go that far," Sheva chuckled.
"I believe it," Chris said, "You've always been a impassioned speaker. I'm sorry that I missed it."
"Don't be. This is important," she said, "Plus, you were the one who nominated me, Chris. That was more than enough."
Chris blinked, but managed to cover his confusion with a tip of his beer and a congratulatory smile.
"How come you never nominate me for things, boss?" Piers asked playfully.
"Because unlike Sheva, the only thing you're useful for is draining all the lights out of a room. Last I checked, they didn't have an award for that in the BSAA," Jake said with a familiar smirk that turned Chris cold to the bone. No one else saw the resemblance, however. No one else present would have ever seen that particular side of Wesker – playfully sarcastic after a long mission, enjoying a cold one with his team after Chris pestered him long enough to convince him to join. Probably smirking at Chris' expense, the asshole.
"Stop trying to convince everyone you hate me, Jake," Piers said with a smirk of his own, "You're not fooling anyone."
Jake snorted.
"Stop it, you two," a familiar voice said, making Chris' heart stop. "If Claire catches you arguing, I'm pretty sure she'll shoot first and ask questions later."
Chris looked over slowly, just as afraid that the dream would suddenly become a nightmare as he was that it wouldn't – that she'd be standing there perfect and beautiful and safe – crush him with the reality that this was all just a dream; too good to be true. And sure enough, there she was in a pair of denim skinny jeans and a loose, flowing tank that highlighted the twinkle in her eyes that he hadn't seen in years. Her hair was brunette again, and she had it clipped up into a flatteringly messy bunch at the back of her head. Everything about her sent his heart into a painful squeeze – from the cute little wisps of her hair that brushed at her neck to the bracelet she loved but never had a chance to wear until now because of missions. His breath stuttered into the beer he still had hovering at his lips.
"That good, huh?" Jill said with a sly, approving smirk. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled, "You don't look half bad yourself."
"J-Jill?" He asked, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to tear his eyes away as she made her way to the chair Leon had vacated and took a seat beside him.
"Claire's about to come out and we'll get started. Are you excited?"
Chris didn't know how to answer. He just kept starting at her, unable to shake the surreal feeling that had crawled into his chest the moment he saw her.
"Stop it," she said, suddenly flustered by his staring. She punched him – harder than Piers had – and laughed. "You're freaking me out."
Chris felt a small, hesitant smile spread across his face. Her joy was infectious and before he knew it his face was split by a grin that matched hers. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her shirt was low enough that he could see the scars from Wesker's device, but they were old now – nearly gone. She caught his gaze and, mistaking the look for something else, she slapped his hand none too gently; but her amusement didn't change despite her mock reproachful look as she said "stop it" one more time, softer. Like she used to.
"Sorry, it's just…" Chris took a breath. "It feels like it's been forever."
"Since what?" She asked, her smile smaller now but no less warm.
"Since I saw you smile like that," he said, suddenly bold enough to take her pale hand in his. He couldn't understand how someone as powerful as Jill could have hands that felt so fragile and small. He rubbed his thumb across her skin and desperately wished that the smooth touch beneath his calloused thumb was real.
She blinked at him and her tone became serious as she ducked to catch his gaze. "Hey, look at me," and when he did, "I smile every day, because of you. With you. Every day."
He took in this version of Jill – healthy, free, loved – and he felt suddenly crushed under the revelation that this was a version of Jill he'd never see but in dreams. His heart faltered. His gaze dropped. He held her hand a little tighter and forced his smile back into place, lest the moment break.
"You could have smiled a minute ago and it'd still be too long," he said softly, so only she could hear. Her smile changed then. Fond, in love – but concerned. Aware of some nuance of himself that he couldn't mask.
"I didn't know you were such a romantic, Redfield," she said. She opened her mouth to say something else, no doubt to ask what brought this on, when Leon suddenly returned to the porch. He looked very excited about something, and Chris couldn't help but get intrigued as the conversations around him died.
"Alright everyone," he said, "Before Claire comes out, I just wanted to thank you all for coming. There's no one else we'd want to share this moment with, and it means a lot to both of us that you were able to take time from your schedules to share this moment with us. It means a lot to both of us that you all were able to take time from your schedules to come all the way out here."
"Of course we did," Jill said, as though Leon were being stupid. "I don't think any one of us would have missed it for anything."
"Still, thank you. And for all the frozen dinners and casseroles, too – I know we'll need them. Now, without further adieu, I present to you…" he said, turning as though revealing a prize – only to reveal Claire holding a small bundle of blankets in her arms. But by her expression, she wasn't just holding blankets. By her expression, by the sheer glow and wonder of her smile, Chris could have sworn she was holding every pure, honest thing left in this world in her arms. Maybe even the world itself. "My lovely wife and our beautiful baby girl."
For the second time, Chris felt his breath whisk away from him as he watched his baby sister walk down the stairs of the porch quite slowly and walk up to him.
"I figured you'd want to hold her first," she said as she adjusted the little bundle in her arms. Chris quickly sat down his beer – uncaring of how it tipped over and began to spill slowly over his feet and into the grass – and sat up straighter. Claire lowered the soft blankets into his arms and delicately positioned her daughter into Chris' waiting arms. The baby – his niece – felt impossibly small in the large cradle of his arms, and he watched helplessly and in wonder as Claire gently moved the blanket from his niece's face and said, "Chris, this is your niece: Charlotte Ada Kennedy. Charlotte, this is your uncle."
The pink little face beneath the mountain of blankets blinked up at him owlishly, her eyes large and a familiar shade of blue. Chris let out a huge, amazed huff as an overwhelmed smile spread across his face. She blinked at him twice, then reached one tiny hand out from her blankets and gurgled at him.
He looked up at the joyous faces of his friends and family that surrounded him, then took in the proud and otherworldly look on Claire's face as she watched her brother and her daughter meet for the very first time. He adjusted the little bundle in his arms so that he could free one hand and lower a single finger – the same finger that had pulled a hundred triggers countless times – and press it gently into Charlotte's waiting grasp. He was floored by how strong her grip was, and he couldn't help but shake her tiny hand in a mock handshake as his smile spread ever further.
"Nice to meet you, Charlotte," he said, in awe of her like a man in awe of the sight at the top of the world. And her eyes were so blue, they could have been the sky at the summit of Everest, he thought to himself. Charlotte, for her grandmother. Ada, for the woman that saved her father's life countless times. A life in commemoration to the lives they'd lost.
Charlotte looked at the finger she had grasped between her tiny digits, analyzing it with a serious little expression, before Chris saw the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
She smiled.
This, he thought, looking down at her beaming little face, this is worth fighting for.
Chris was pulled from his dream violently as he found himself thrown from his bed and tossed across the room. He hit the far wall with enough force to leave a large, crackling dent in the wall before falling to the floor in a heap. He blinked rapidly, trying to remember where he was after such a vivid dream. His icy eyes flew from his rumpled bed to the seething, black clad man that stood beside it.
"Wesker?" He asked, suddenly as angry as he was confused. He pulled himself quickly to his feet.
"I didn't want it to be this way, Christopher," Wesker said as he approached, anger and frustration radiating off him both physically and mentally – drawing on their mental link and fatiguing Chris as he tried to separate his emotions from Wesker's. It wound him up, distracted him as Wesker got closer, teeth bared. "I wanted to gain your loyalty naturally, but it's becoming increasingly obvious that you need a little help."
Chris shook his head violently, trying to break free of all the overwhelming feelings that Wesker was barraging him with. "I'm not going back into that mask, Wesker. I'll die first."
"The mask was merely a temporary solution, Christopher," Wesker said, and the mental link between them suddenly went silent as Wesker stiffened. Chris felt his heart plummet as the BOW before him suddenly knelt down and ever so slowly picked up the dog tags that Chris had no doubt lost hold of during his flight across the room. Wesker raised them to eye level, and even through his sunglasses Chris could see the way his rage made his eyes glow. His leather gloves squealed loudly in protest as Wesker tightened his hold around the dog tags and redirected his glare at Chris.
"I saw your dream, Christopher," Wesker said as he lowered the tags to his side. "That world you saw… I want that world, too. Peace. Prosperity. Why can't you see that?"
"You're right, Wesker," Chris said, making Wesker jerk slightly at the omission. "You're right. We want the same thing… the only difference is: I'm not willing to pay the price that you're willing to pay. I can't justify living in that world if everyone doesn't have a shot to live in it."
"Everyone has the same odds of surviving the virus."
Chris huffed heavily through his nostrils and shook his head.
"...I can't be part of your solution if doesn't include everyone, Wesker. I was starting to think that maybe I could… And I admit, for a moment, I almost wanted to be okay with it. But I'm not. I just can't." He thought of his friends and their smiling faces. He thought of what it'd be like, if one of them didn't make it to this new generation. A new world at the low, low price of everyone that made his world worth living in... He couldn't do it. He looked up at Wesker with resigned eyes. "I can't live in a world without them. I can't be part of the solution that kills them."
"So you would condemn every future generation to a life of over population," Wesker said, abbreviating each word with another step forward, "And disease, and suffering - just so that your tiny, fragile circle of family," he said with disgust, "That will no doubt die in meres decades can live."
Chris swallowed and stiffened his jaw. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
He thought of his niece's hand wrapped around his finger and the way she smiled. It brought a bubble of determination back into his bones. Wesker must have seen it, too, because his scowl deepened and his expression turned stormy as he said very calmly, "That little girl was a dream, Christopher. Nothing more."
"No, she wasn't," Chris said, "There's thousands of little girls just like her. New to the world, being greeted by family and loved ones. Mothered by good people like my sister. Fathered by honorable people like Leon. They deserve to live in this world, too... This isn't just about my family. It's about every family." he said, then moved into a defensive stance as he prepared himself for the inevitable. "There's nothing you can say to convince me otherwise, Wesker. Not anymore."
Silence stretched between them for a long moment, and then Chris heard Wesker sigh haughtily through his nose. "Then you leave me no choice, Christopher," he said as he pushed back his coat and lowered into a stance. "Remember that."
[a/n] So I can't even begin to explain to you how difficult it was to decide what side Chris would take - because the more I thought about it, the more I felt like Wesker was doing a real damn good job of convincing him about his solution. So my question is, how interested would people be in reading a spin off (after this is done) of what it might have been like had Chris decided to join "Wesker's solution"?