Chapter 36 Truth
Wesker growled in appreciation when he felt her shift against him in her sleep, her nails digging into his back lightly. His own arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his warmth. Without opening his eyes, he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of his woman. My woman, he thought drowsily, sounding possessive, then slipped back into slumber, disregarding the sunlight streaming into the room from the skylight.
When he awoke again, it was a few hours later, judging by the slant of the sun overhead. He frowned slightly, finding the bed beside him empty. Stretching across the bed, his joints clicking and cracking into place, he heard the water in the bathtub slosh gently. He smirked as an image of Claire took over his vision; long, fiery hair spread across the water, floating around her, her slender limbs sprawled over the edges, leaving her bare and exposed to his hungry gaze. Shaking his head slightly, he stripped the sheets from his body and padded silently into the bathroom.
The sight that met his eyes was not the seductive one he had imagined. Instead, Claire had her hair lathered up with some exotic smelling shampoo, piled on top of her head like a sudsy beehive, and was dancing while sitting, her back to the doorway, completely unaware of her audience. As he watched her with an amused expression clearly plastered over his face, she curled her hand and started pretending to sing into it like she was holding a microphone. She was singing some obnoxious song under her breath, gesticulating and dancing around wildly, making the water slosh against the rim of the tub.
Wesker chuckled quietly as her hair flopped down her back with a wet slap. Claire jumped turned around, wiping soap from her face. "H-how long were you watching me…?" she asked, her eyes wide with mortification when she saw the amused expression on his face.
"Long enough," he said, crouching down to press a kiss to her flaming cheek, then stepped into the shower, still chuckling. He saw her sink back down into the water, blowing bubbles in the water as she sunk up to her nose.
When he returned to their bedroom after his shower, he was slightly surprised to not find her. Dressing himself in his customary black pants and black dress shirt, he raked his hair back from his face to its normal placement and laced his black boots to his feet. Straining his ears, he didn't hear her within their home at all. Frowning slightly, he searched the house quickly to be certain, then decided the only other place she could be was working in her little lab.
Smirking slightly to himself, he swiped his card through the reader and entered the cool, austere hallway that led to their laboratories. With his keen nose, he could smell her sweet scent as the last door into the labs was opened with a whoosh of air. As usual, the door between their labs was propped open and he could see her sitting at her computer desk, typing furiously on the keyboard, some obnoxious music blasting from the computer speakers. Every so often, she would stop, consult one of her notebooks, then continue typing, head-banging and singing along under her breath. Wesker leaned against the door frame, watching her silently, a small smirk on his lips. When she bent down to scrutinize her written work, he silent drifted up behind her.
"You couldn't wait for me?" he murmured in her ear making her jump. Her eyes wide, she swiveled in her chair to look up at him. How she hadn't heard or smelled him was testament to how engrossed she was in her work, never mind how loud the music was. She looked up at him guiltily, a small smile on her face as she reached over to turn the music down to a whisper.
"Sorry," she murmured, her hands settling on his hips as he looked down at her, his own hands combing absently through her ponytail. She felt a little strange coming into the labs without him, but he had given her the small lab for her own use, and she was going to use it when she damned well pleased. Even after the Olympic sex marathon they had had since he had returned, she was restless. True, she felt sleepy and cuddly and soft, but her mind, once torn from its sensual paradise, was in hyperactive mode. Curled against his chest, she had drowsed fitfully for a few hours, but then her mind exploded with the need to do something.
Loathe as she was to leave his warm, possessive embrace, she knew she didn't have the patience to lay quietly without waking her lover. Pressing a kiss to his lips, she was mildly surprised when she felt him return the kiss, though he never woke. She had felt the loss of him as she slipped from his arms and dressed herself in the dark.
"Perhaps I had plans for you this morning," he said, tugging the elastic band from her hair, returning her to the present. It fell in shining waves around her face as she stared up at him. "Then I wake up to find you gone…" he trailed off, his burning eyes flickering between gold and copper. He had been mildly irritated, but it had been fleeting when he was greeted by the scene she presented in the bathroom.
Claire giggled slightly. "I'm sorry," she murmured, tugging his shirt from his pants and slipping her fingers beneath the warm silk to stroke his skin. "I'll make it up to you later. I promise," she said, sliding her finger between his skin and the waistband of his pants, a small smile on her face. Wesker nearly shivered as her nails scraped gently against his skin. He grunted and leaned down to press a hot kiss to her lips. "Good," he growled, kissing her again. His lips lingered against hers as he inhaled that sweet scent that was Claire.
She smiled up at him as he stepped away from her and back into his own lab. Her eyes followed his movements as he picked up his clipboard of notes and scanned them, then as he pulled implements from drawers and then disappeared into his office only to return moments later with two cases. A soft smile on her face once again, she refocused into her work, her ears picking up the almost silent sounds of him moving around. Inhaling deeply, she sighed happily, relaxing, as his scent washed over her.
She was immensely glad that he was home and that he was safe.
For two weeks their routine didn't change. The days were filled with research, meetings, and phone calls as they each did their own research. The nights were filled with their passions for each other. Some days they made it back from the labs, some days not.
Some nights, blood dried beneath Claire's fingernails from the scratches she had left on his back as she screamed his name from beneath him, pressed against the walls by him. Once even, from where she had sank her fingernails into the skin of his arms as he had lifted her up against the wall roughly, her legs wrapped around his neck as his lips and teeth and tongue teased and licked and nibbled against her swollen flesh that was already so sensitive from the last two orgasms he had given her. The blood had dripped from his elbows to splatter on the floor. They growled like animals; wrestling, shoving, biting, stroking, mating with wild abandon.
Other nights were tender, soft, passionately slow. She could drown in the hot kisses and heady caresses he gave her on nights like these. Her skin would flush with the languorous attentions his lips and tongue and fingertips would lavish on her, leaving her weak and damp. He would stare into her eyes as he entered her, a soft, peculiar expression on his face. Slowly he would bring her to the peak, relishing in the look of almost dreamy panic as she would shatter so beautifully beneath him. Always, she came first, he made sure of it, and only then would he let himself go, breathing her name as she clenched around him with a sweet cry of bliss.
Some days were better than others in the lab. The days when Wesker would make some sort of breakthrough in his research were days when Claire's own research would get interrupted by him taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly, a look of something like pride in his eyes. She would giggle and willingly indulge in what he was offering, grateful for the reprieve from work.
Then there were the days that didn't turn out well, like the one where a stuttering, bumbling scientist from the Gilead Engineering hive delivered some folders to Wesker, nonchalantly trying to snoop through the lab and had knocked a small tray of samples onto the floor. Instantly, Claire was between the bungling, sweating man and Wesker, her hands on the blonde's chest as his eyes flared crimson behind his sunglasses, his hands clenched on Claire's arms. But while the man was stuttering his apologies, his eyes swept the lab around him with a cold, critical eye. And Wesker saw him.
"Leave," Claire demanded, glaring at the man over her shoulder. He stuttered out some reply that she didn't listen to, but he still hadn't moved. "Why are you still standing there? Get the fuck out of here or do you want to get hurt? Because I have half a mind to let him tear you apart. Get out." The man backed out of room and only when she heard the door clank shut again, did she look up at Wesker.
His eyes were still glowing crimson, his hands still clenched on her arms. "Albert?" Claire asked quietly, slipping her arms around his waist slowly. Bit by bit, his grip on her arms loosened and his hands slid up to cup her face. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips then rested his forehead against hers.
"I despise working for others, dear heart," he breathed, pressing his lips to hers again. Slowly, as if sipping a fine wine, he pressed kisses to her lips, her eyelids, across her cheeks. She sighed in pleasure as she was scooped into his arms and whisked into his office. Growling slightly, he locked to door to the main complex then made himself comfortable on the small leather couch pushed against the wall, Claire draped across his lap as he pulled her close. Once again, he pressed his lips to hers, softly and deliciously, causing her to shiver.
Eventually their clothes fell away and they melded together. Claire shivered with the dark, seductive intensity that surrounded him like a cloak, his eyes gold glowing like coals in the darkness of the room. In the quiet, illuminated only by the screen savers of the computers, they shivered and broke together, drowning in the sensations of each other, their names echoing breathlessly around them.
Claire's ears pricked when she heard the door in Wesker's office open. She stood up and waited for an identifying voice to speak.
"Mister Wesker? Miss Claire?" Fraser Fahd's voice rang out as he hesitated in the doorway between Wesker's office and the lab. Claire stood and hurried to the door, a small smile on her face. She was surprised to see both Fraser and Nisha standing there. Nisha smiled warmly when she saw Claire.
Instantly, Claire felt dressed like a ragamuffin next to Nisha who was wearing an elegant charcoal pantsuit beneath a perfectly starched lab coat. Claire was wearing jeans and a wife beater with a black flannel shirt tied up above her belly. And she was barefoot.
"Nisha! Fraser! Hi!" she said, hugging the beautiful Indian woman and letting Fraser press a kiss to her knuckles. "Uh, Albert's in the house at the moment. I think he's on the phone. Wait here and I'll go get him. Make yourselves comfortable," she said, smiling at them both. It had been a while since they had seen each other.
The couple seated themselves on the leather couch as Claire disappeared through the doors to the house. When she reached the living room, Wesker was standing, looking out the window with his phone pressed against his ear. She heard him utter a terse word, then snap the device shut. As she stepped up behind him, she slipped her hands and arms beneath his shirt, hugging him from behind.
"Hello, dear heart," he murmured, his hand tracing down her arm. Claire nuzzled into his back, smiling to herself. They were silent for a moment before Wesker asked, "Did you need something?"
Claire giggled. "The Fahd's are in your office waiting for us. I came to get you," she replied, loosening her arms so that he could turn to face her.
Wesker smiled down at her wryly. "You leave guests waiting in my office and yet you're here, beneath my clothes, attempting to seduce me. I think you need to sort out your priorities, my dear," he breathed as he kissed her deeply, his arms clasping her to him. She giggled again, although a bit more dazedly this time, and let herself be tugged back towards the steel laboratory door once again.
When they entered his office, Fraser stood and shook Wesker's hand and Nisha smiled up at him. As they settled back into the couch, Wesker made himself comfortable in his leather chair, Claire leaning against the creamy leather, her arm draped over the back. "To what do we owe this pleasure, Fraser?" Wesker asked, his voice cool and business-like.
Fraser chuckled. "Ever the business man, Mister Wesker. I approve," he said, his arm slipping around his wife's shoulders. "I am merely here to check up on you and Miss Claire. It has been some time since we have seen each other and I simply wanted to see if everything is still to your liking."
Wesker nodded but Claire answered. "Everything is wonderful, Fraser. Thank you for the concern, but Albert and I are happy where we're at." She beamed at the Indian couple across from them who both looked ecstatic.
"Indeed. Dear heart, why don't you show Miss Nisha the statues you've been studying while Fraser and I discuss some business," Wesker murmured, reaching up to pull her hand to his burning lips, making her shiver slightly.
Claire frowned slightly at the dismissal, but she knew better than to argue, especially in front of guests. If she really wanted to know, she decided, she'd get it out of him later that night. Brushing her fingertips across the back of his neck, she swept out the door, Nisha following close behind her.
As soon as their women were safely ensconced in Claire's lab, Fraser turned to face Wesker, his face pensive. "How has your research on the citovesanus virus been coming?" he asked bluntly, steepling his fingers beneath his nose, his sharp brown eyes watching Wesker.
"It is slower than I had hoped, but it is progressing steadily," Wesker informed him. "In a few more months, I shall hopefully have something worth testing." He crossed his ankle over his knee and readjusted his glasses. "And soon after that, I will begin my tests on humans." He watched for a reaction on Fraser's face and was pleased to find none. "I trust you can accommodate my requests, can you not?" he asked tersely.
"Of course," Fraser said smoothly, a small smile on his face. "That was part of our agreement when you agreed to lend me your expertise. It will take a few weeks to set up, but rest assured, you will have everything you need. All I ask is that you keep it clean and quiet."
"Of course." Wesker nodded.
Fraser was silent for a long moment, far away in thought, staring blankly at the floor. Wesker said nothing as he studied the man before him, his face a blank as a statue. He had no doubt that he would get what he wanted because, in the long run, Fraser was getting exactly what he wanted. "How quickly is the virus spreading?" Fraser asked quietly, still staring intently at the floor in front of Wesker's huge desk.
"Every day, there are an estimated one hundred thousand people who are newly infected," Wesker replied in a flat voice. He could have been reading the day's weather forecast for all the emotion in his tone. "TriCell's vaccine is still treating a small portion of the infected, but the numbers are overwhelming their supply. The cheap cure is only temporary, however."
Fraser looked up sharply, his thick brows furrowed. "What do you mean, 'temporary'?"
The blonde shifted in his chair, a small, dangerous smirk on his face. "It means their vaccine only works for a short amount of time before the virus overwhelms the vaccine and the patient succumbs to the disease anyway. If anything, it will buy us a small sliver of time, but that window will soon rapidly close."
"Well, what can we do?" the Indian man asked, shoving his hand through his hair and sighing. "Is there something we can do to slow this down? Maybe save a few more lives?"
Wesker chuckled. "I have contacted some people in my employ and they have assured me that those who are not infected will be kept safe from those who are." It felt strange to him to be on the good side, saving people, fighting the bad guy. In normal situations, Wesker was the bad guy. "They will set up quarantines and they have been given the order to shoot on sight any person who looks is infected." Wesker held up his hand to stop Fraser when he opened his mouth to protest. "I realize this is a harsh measure, Mister Fahd, but when it's between life or death, I'm a selfish man, I would much prefer life. There is no room for hesitation in this matter."
Fraser looked uncertain but nodded in agreement with the blonde Tyrant in front of him. He chuckled hollowly as he leaned back in his seat, his hands behind his head. "You do realize this is going to cause the collapse of the global economy, don't you?" He smiled wryly. "The stock market is going to hit rock bottom, the economy is going to collapse, the world's militaries are going to die, and the world is going to be chaos."
"Ah, but chaos breeds creation, Mister Fahd," Wesker said silkily, his signature insidious grin back on his thin lips. "The world will descend back into the chaos that was plagued by the feudal times. Kings and lords and barons would claim small parts of the world for themselves, viciously, savagely. The battlefield is a scene of constant chaos. The winner will be the one who controls that chaos, both his own and the enemies. I intend to be the one controlling the chaos, my friend. This world needs a firm hand and an unforgiving god."
Fraser said nothing, staring at the blonde man in front of him. He knew of Wesker's ambitions, he knew of his narcissism, but he also knew that the man was an invaluable resource to his work. Wesker was possibly the only man on the planet who could save the rest of humanity and he knew it. While he genuinely liked Wesker, which in and of itself shocked him, he didn't particularly care for the bloodthirsty, tyrannical side of his subordinate. He knew the man was dangerous but he also knew that he was fiercely protective of what was his. Fraser had seen the way he looked after Claire. It warmed his heart and made him smile.
"Hospitals and clinics are already overrun with the infected," Fraser said, polishing his reading glasses on the hem of his lab coat before slipping them back on his nose. They perched precariously at the end, giving him the look of a wizened old man. "Every country has called in their armed services, what's left of them anyway, to contain this. Russia is blaming the United States, France is pointing fingers at Britain, and the Chinese, Japanese and Koreans have their own little triangle of hate going on in Asia. No one wants to work together to get this cleaned up. They're all too busy pointing fingers at each other like school children."
Wesker chuckled again, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. "It is to be expected," he said softly. "Regardless of what the rest of the world is doing, I have managed to isolate the mutated cells that are causing the virus and hopefully, within the next three months, I will be able to synthesize a walking treatment."
"A treatment? Not a cure?"
"No, not yet. I need to finalize my research on the treatment, then finalize and refine it to be a cure," the Tyrant said. "I'm hoping that after the treatment is administered, within six months I shall have a cure for this virus."
Fraser was silent for a moment once again. There was a lot of information to process and he didn't like the sound of most of it. At this rate, there were hardly going to be any survivors of the global pandemic. But at the current state of affairs, he'd rather save what few he could instead of saving none at all. "How well do you think your cure is going to work, Albert?" He stared into the blonde's blank face, searching for the reassurance he sought but found none.
"If I have any say in the matter, it will be one hundred percent effective. The only problem," he trailed off, crimson glinting through the dark glass of his glasses. "It might not be effective on every person."
"Clarify," Fraser said, his voice hard.
"While the cure may work on Sue, curing her completely and giving her the antibodies to prevent future infection, the same cure won't have any effect on Mary, George, Joe, John and Cindy. They will succumb to the virus and ultimately, die," Wesker explained coldly, lacing his fingers together beneath his chin. "The effectiveness ratio is a mere one in five for the entire planet."
Fraser gasped in horror. "So low? Is there no way for you to make it more effective?" he demanded, his hands clenched into fists on his knees.
"Regrettably, not with the time allotted." He sighed in mock regret. "I am not certain I will have the cure finalized before the rest of humanity dies off either. I still have an immense amount of research to do, Mister Fahd. If all mankind were to disappear, the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed then thousand years ago. This is the restart the world needs, but I shall not let my personal feelings come between saving the multitudes and freeing the planet."
Fraser frowned. "This is a mess. The world is always such a mess," he murmured. "It is up to the good men left in the world to clean up and start over again, isn't it, Mister Wesker?" He looked up to meet the burning eyes of the blonde man at the desk. He was dismayed when he let out a soft chuckle.
"I am not a good man, Mister Fahd. And the rest of the world knows it."
A/N: So the citovesanus virus (sy-toe-ve-say-nus virus) is completely made up. I have no idea if that's pronounced correctly, but that's how it sounded in my head. I looked up the Latin words for 'quick' and 'insanity' and smashed them together and called it good. Forgive me… I'm not proud.
Wesker's quote of chaos actually came from Napoleon Bonaparte. "The battlefield is a scene of constant chaos. The winner will be the one who controls that chaos, both his own and the enemies."
And his quote of "If all mankind were to disappear the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed then thousand years ago. If insects were to vanish, the environment would collapse into chaos." ~ E. O. Wilson.