-The Sin of Man-
Vancouver, Canada
Boring. Quarantine had been extremely boring. The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance lab insisted on a wide array of tests due to her known and unknown exposures to viruses at Wesker's hands. Then the day came the organization faced investigation and shut down. To her horror, the BSAA was infiltrated on all levels by Umbrella Corporation over the years, possibly since its inception. Her eagerness to get back out into the field dwindled and she was transferred into the care of a CDC facility. The rehabilitation process took years and she grew more and more fearful of the possibility of ever returning to active duty. With what organization? With whom would she partner? Good and bad memories haunted her days. Thoughts and dreams would plague her of becoming infected like she had been in Raccoon City.
There was the added issue of concealing her survival from almost everyone she knew. The government spent years making absolutely certain she was no longer a threat after the things she did under the influence of a control drug. She was unconscious for a lot of her captivity, which was their primary concern since she couldn't tell them everything that might have transpired. It was ideal in her opinion, to be unconscious in a tube healing and experimented on, as opposed to enduring Wesker's presence while awake.
The people within the government who knew she was alive kept that fact to themselves. They concealed the actual reason behind the BSAA phase out and dismantling, so revealing nothing about her existence was child's play. She needed time to recover physically and mentally, and asked a friend to help her out. She'd been constantly thinking about the decision lately. Perhaps not so much lately. When the news reached her Chris had died, she regretted hiding away from the world and people who cared for her. She let them mourn her, believing her dead. It wasn't right.
Canada was a pretty great place to live; she couldn't complain. It could be fairly boring though. Living with a family and working as a crisis counselor via telephone hadn't been the plan. The job let her remain in the privacy of the house and she would help people like she wanted. That line of work also felt fitting in her present state of mind and state of living. It was nice, but for two years now she'd been thinking how she was avoiding truly living because she wasn't certain what to do.
Time just got away from her. Before she knew it she was in her forties wondering what the hell happened. She couldn't blame it on Wesker, who saved her life to use her for his experiments and to hurt Chris, stealing years from her. She couldn't blame the government agencies who kept her on indefinite quarantine for a long time out of distrust, taking more precious time. Nor could she blame it on Chris's death freezing her in place for a while, causing her to second-guess everything. Nobody to blame for her own inability to figure out how to live.
Staring out the bedroom window, she decided to take the day off. The phone counselor employment allowed her to choose her own hours and she would call in when she was ready to receive calls from service users. It meant she didn't have to do a thing to leave the day to herself. The weather was beautiful. She could go for a walk in the park or to the nearby coffee shop.
There came a knock on the door.
"Yeah?" she prompted, rising from the desk chair to peer in the mirror while doing up her hair in a ponytail quick.
"It's Polly. Can I come in?"
"Yeah. Come in."
The young woman opened the door and stepped inside her bedroom. She wore a white t-shirt with colorful printing, blue jeans, and sneakers. Her long hair was dyed a brighter blonde than its natural state. She looked very much like her mother.
"I've got some readings to do for class. Thought we could grab coffee together and talk beforehand. Wanna?"
It was a bit of a routine for her and Polly to make trips to the coffee shop once she began a caffeine habit that commenced with entering college. Kathy thought it was a "mature" phase. Whether the supposition was accurate or not, the addiction stuck. It had to be weird her best friends were in their twenties. Oh well.
"Okay, I'll go with you."
She searched for her blue zip-up. May was mild weather here but she preferred to be prepared. Going through hellish survival situations on multiple occasions tended to instill that habit in a person. Slipping her arms through the sleeves, she zipped it and grabbed her blue baseball cap. Wearing hats, another habit.
They left the room together and she shut the door behind them. Descending the stairs, she wondered where Moira was at. She'd been staying there for the last few weeks until her new apartment in America was in order. She should return to America and try and find whatever closest resembled the old life she used to have. God, what was she even talking about?
Passing through the hallway and by the kitchen and living room, she noticed the television was muted. She could hear voices in the dining room. Kathy wasn't home and it couldn't be Moira because the two voices were male. Backtracking to the kitchen opening, she peered across the room and saw the retired family man seated at the dining table looking at someone standing out of sight from her viewpoint. He seemed bothered.
"Barry. What is it?"
The older man met her gaze, uneasy. "Jill. You have a visitor."
No governments with affiliations of any kind paid her a visit, gave a call, or sent an e-mail or mail in five years. Besides Barry and his family, she lived a solitary existence. Moira hadn't told Claire about her being alive, and that was tough for the sassy woman. She desired honesty and keeping something from a friend didn't sit well. But then, the woman joined TerraSave against her father's wishes so..it was all relative.
She moved into the kitchen and circled the counter to maintain distance between the visitor she knew she wasn't going to approve. Barry's stiff demeanor said it all. Curious, Polly walked over to sit with her dad. Jill gazed coldly at her "visitor".
"What are you doing here?"
The man turned fully to look in her direction. "Jill, how are you?"
"What do you want?"
Why would he use generic pleasantries? Why would he behave as if he wasn't her enemy? Why show his face, period? She hated him personally, and everything he represented. He had to know that.
Polly ran fingers through her hair. "Who are you?"
He ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Jill. All manners, that one. Still an asshole. No surprise there.
"How did you know I was alive? How did you know where to find me?"
"A conversation between the eldest Burton girl and the youngest Redfield in..2011. Claire didn't comprehend what was almost revealed, but I connected the dots. Her new friend, someone her father used to work with, coming to live with her and her family when she was free to come. Well, she sounded an awful lot like you, Jill."
"Why are you here? Are you still trying to pick up Umbrella's ashes?"
"Umbrella was finished years ago. This is a problem for the present. I've come to ask for your help."
"Oh that's rich," Barry uttered, snickering. "Need help finding a prison cell?"
"How's retirement treating you, Barry? Driving your better half crazy yet?"
"Shut it, Wesker!"
"Wesker," Jill interrupted before they could start a fight she wasn't interested in watching. "Tell us why you're here or get out."
"The world's in danger of ending. The others don't realize how serious the situation is. They will. Too late, most likely."
"Cut the crap," Barry said testily. "Why come all this way to see Jill? Why?"
"This is your chance," he said to her, smiling a little. It was insincere. "You're his oldest ally. He always counted on you, trusted you."
"What are you saying, Wesker?" she demanded, patience run out.
He adjusted his jacket collar. "Chris is alive."
Jill put her back to him and studied the sink. There were dishes from breakfast yet to be rinsed, coated in grease and egg residue. Switching on the faucet, she let the water fall over a hand. She spent a decade making peace with putting her old life and past experiences behind her.
It was complex to escape. Storms and rain made her think of Spencer Mansion more than she ever thought of the night inside the same man's other estate eight years later. Crows reminded of the night that changed her life forever. A person in passing could be mistaken for a zombie if she zoned out or became distracted and caught off guard. She survived and fought through so many nightmares, often without experiencing any repercussions like loss of sleep. The choice to move on was what did her in.
Regret was a bitch.
"Why would you come here?" she heard Polly question. "You're upsetting Jill. What do you want?"
Realizing the cold water was on, she switched to warm, setting the plug in the drain. She picked up the bottle of dish soap and squirted some. There was a dishwasher but she'd just wash these by hand. She preferred doing things herself. Why didn't she return to an organization where she could go in the field and help against bioweapon threats?
Jill reached for the first plate. "Did it have anything to do with Umbrella?"
"Did what?" Wesker inquired.
"Whatever happened to make Chris disappear for more than half a decade."
A temporary pause and then, "Yes."
The food remnants came clean off the plate with the soapy sponge. "How?"
No hesitation this time. "We've discovered there was another Project W survivor aside from myself. The Alex Wesker that Barry and Moira encountered on the island turns out to be an impostor. The true Alex is a man and he has identical ambitions to the late Oswell Spencer."
"He abducted Chris?" Barry wheezed out, sounding stunned. "What for?"
Jill set the clean plate aside and picked up the next to be washed. "Claire knows?"
"She was helping us find him. We've-"
She let the plate and sponge slip into the bubbly water and shut off the tap, bracing herself on the counter with both hands. "It's still the same! One of you Umbrella fucks become greedy for power and Chris goes out there and gets hurt."
"Chris intends to do the harm this time."
"Are you still trying to be Umbrella, Wesker?" Jill asked, resuming the dish washing. "Still trying for global domination? Is that what this is?"
"You may not believe I can change, but Chris has changed and it's you who can stop him. I don't know if there's anyone else who could succeed."
Once there was a man who called himself Sin. He was a clone of a child kidnapped by Umbrella for their own despicable purposes. The corporation called him Dante and intended him to be a weapon which backfired. She later heard of a second clone named Melody who escaped their manipulation for a while, but Jill never met her. In 2009, she met Sin when he faked her death and held her captive.
She passed out from exhaustion and woke to have Sin taunt how he caused everyone to see her dying. He thought it particularly hilarious the pain her old partner felt watching her die. Sin displayed astonishing illusion ability, unbelievable to her eyes. It was real though, and he seemed an odd type. Acting cold the majority of the time in words he said, his actions were choices to show her benevolent things. He showed her dead friends happy and at peace, like they were simply popping in to say hello from the other side. He'd reveal Raccoon City whole and buzzing with life. Jill figured out he was showing her what she wanted to see, a favorite trick of his.
"Wasn't there a girl he cared for? What about his sister? What about the other people he worked with? Chris has people who care about him, who cared enough to be close to him. I'm not that person anymore."
"Jill, hold on now," Barry started.
People were selfish and took care of their own needs above others. Chris wasn't one of them. He was amazing to sacrifice his entire being to the fight against the monsters of the world. She always assumed Sin kept her alive and in captivity in case he had a use for her eventually. A use he never got around to. Chris's captor might have believed the same but did get around to it.
Josh Stone rescued her from the Kijuju Autonomous Zone, saved her life. Even in his heartbreak over Sheva Alomar's betrayal and death, he fought side by side with her to escape safely on a convoy. Even in Jill's heartbreak, she owed Chris everything.
Jill put the plate on the pile and turned around. "Where is he?"
"Don't you wish to know details? Why he's gone mad?"
Drying her hands with the towel laying beside the sink, she smiled lightly. "I'm sure you'll explain everything on the way. And people are the reason, almost certainly. They constantly really suck." She folded her arms across her chest. "For now, where is he?"
Her determination was solidifying. She met Barry's concerned gaze which softened when he understood she had this. Friends trust friends. Polly appeared appropriately puzzled and she went to place her hand on the nape of the woman's neck to reassure.
"Rain check on the coffee, okay?"
"Promise?"
She smiled. "Promise."
Polly stood and meandered to the kitchen area. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she started thumbing on the screen. Wesker shifted in a manner which drew her attention. He pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. This fucking bastard had chosen to rely solely on her help.
"You don't know."
Reluctance to admit his ignorance delayed the confirmation. "I don't know where he is at the moment."
Barry made a noise and adjusted himself in the chair. "So we think about what he's after to find where he'd go."
"He's overwhelmed. I believe he wants to make it all stop."
She gave consideration to the exact wording used. "He was treated like you treated me, is that right?"
Disgust flickered on his face before he cleared it of emotion. "No. He has said nothing concerning his time held against his will, but from what we know, his treatment was much worse."
Jill's years were unconsciousness, not knowing what experiments were performed on her body, and awareness utilized as a human puppet for Excella Gionne's assistance and amusement. She was forced to hurt innocent people, to condemn them to Plaga implantation and death, and to fight Chris. That was the sort of thing which haunted her days or nights often enough. Actions she couldn't control bringing harm to others. Wesker said what Chris went through was worse. She didn't want to know that, and had to know it, too.
"Was he put under the influence of a control drug, like you did to me?"
Nothing in his composure revealed what he was thinking or feeling. "Yes."
"Guilt, remorse, pain..."
Wesker looked at her. "His had an amnesia effect. Drug-induced or trauma-induced. No matter. He's remembering now."
"Everything?" Jill glanced away and then back. "I'm guessing he's not handling it. I could feel bad in the moment, whether that lessened the responsibility I felt later, I don't know. But to feel all the feelings that come with horrible memories like those... He wants to stop them."
"By what means?" pondered Wesker aloud.
She crossed her arms, leaning away from the man. "Depends. I don't know what he's thinking, but the Chris I know helps people. He stops terrorists from hurting them."
Barry grunted. "What if those two things come into conflict?"
Jill turned toward him. "Mixed up? Huh." She looked at Wesker. "Is it possible he'd want to shut out the world, or fix it, or whatever he's doing..by ending it?"
"A global infection? Perhaps."
"You're the one who said Chris was up to no good," Barry said, disgruntled. "You had to know he's planning something like that to come all the way out here to bring Jill to him. You don't think his own sister could stop him?"
"I know his own sister could not pull the trigger if it comes to that."
"You could."
"Yes, I could but for the bleeding hearts who have asked me not to kill him. Don't you desire saving dear Chris?"
"You know we do," Barry declared, annoyed and impatient.
Jill realized. "You came to get me because you think I really am capable of saving him. And you want him saved."
Barry looked between them repeatedly, incredulous stare landing on Wesker. "You care?!"
Wesker outwardly displayed displeasure. "When I had designs for global infection, I intended to do it by air with the use of a bomber. Perhaps he might use a freighter and then aircraft, as I would have done, and as Archer has been known to use freighters for reasons."
"Archer?" Barry frowned, squinting at the man. "What freak is this now?"
"Archer is Alex," Wesker replied dismissively, continuing to look to Jill and angling for better line of sight from his corner. "I'm certain. He'll make his move by air, but he won't use a plane. He has a..unique method of flight. However, it isn't one ideal for international flight."
The expression and gestures from Barry behind Wesker's back nearly brought a grin to her face. She touched the brim of her baseball cap before letting the hand fall to her side.
"So, what? Would he try for a specific area to make an attack?"
Polly spoke up and Jill almost jolted, forgetting the girl was there.
"He can't go to the center of the world to spread the virus. It's a virus, right? I mean, it's basically always a virus, yeah?" She was tapping away on her phone. "I don't know if it matters to go to the center of where you wanna infect for maximum exposure, but I'd think it would help, or be more..poetic, symbolic for someone, who knows. Anyway, what I'm saying is, if he's staying in the country, maybe he'd go to the center of that."
She raised her phone up to the three of them, screen showing a map of the United States. One state in particular was highlighted and a dot indicated the specific location selected. If this was time sensitive, they better hope they knew Chris as well as they thought they did.
The youngest Burton wore a big smile. "Anyone have their ruby slippers ready?"
Barry grinned proudly. "That's my girl."