Chapter 35: Plan B

When Leon returned to Jill's room, she did not need to ask to know that he had watched Ada's message. She could see it in the puffy texture of his face and the dark circles that marred the thin skin beneath his eyes. He looked like the hollow ghost of a man she had once known, and the small part of her heart that still beat inside her chest - that was still her's - cramped painfully as she realized just how many friends had fallen to this point. Broken. Hollow. She thought of them smiling around a smoky poker table, cards in hand and some articles of clothing missing. She thought of them - Claire, Leon, Barry, Chris… they had been so young, even after Wesker's betrayal. They still knew how to live, back then.

Not like now, she considered as she took in the man that stood at her bedside.

Not like now.

"I'm sorry, Leon," she said, but the words were hollow from repetition and too many funerals. She winced, fully aware of the insensitive tone, but he held up one hand and shook his head; too tired and too similar to hold her voice against her.

He didn't, however, say that it was alright. They were beyond lying now, those of them who still remained. He reclaimed the chair he had sat in not even a few short hours ago and swept his unusually grimy bangs from his face with a distasteful look.

"I watched the videos," he said, rubbing his hands from thighs to knees and back again. "Plan B… will it work?"

"No. Not by itself. Not anymore," Jill said honestly. "The theory had been that it would kill Wesker, but it didn't manage to kill Chris and he's younger."

"What do you mean, he's younger?"

Jill licked her lips, and instantly Leon leaned to the side to pull a water bottle from the bag he had brought with him. He uncapped it and held it to her. They both tried to ignore the way her hand shook when she took it. She sipped from it slowly, cautious not to trouble her stomach.

"I can only tell you what I've heard. Wesker was never one for explaining. From what I gathered, Chris has been infected for a lot longer than the day we took him in DC. Even so, his virus - whatever it is that's running through his body - it's younger than Wesker's own variation. So he's younger than Wesker. Weaker. Think of him like a little brother by comparison. He was old enough to survive the hit, but just barely. If it had been Wesker and if the bullet had hit him in a non-critical area like it had for Chris, he very likely would have survived as well."

"Then why did you want me to watch her videos?" Leon asked, too tired to care about the hope Jill's news had so quickly dashed out.

"Because you deserved to hear her final words," Jill said simply, "And she had asked me to make sure you heard them."

Leon bowed forward in his chair, braced his elbows against his knees and locked his eyes on his hands. She let him process everything in peace, her silence patient. When finally he raised his gaze to her, she knew what he would say.

"There must be something we can do."

"There is, maybe," she said. "Ada and I… discussed it, once. We didn't agree about it, though."

"About if it would succeed or not?"

"No. About if it was right."

Leon's brows rose. "So it would work then?"

"Theoretically. It was the best plan we came up with."

Leon straightened in his chair and clenched his fingers tightly into his knees. He watched her with keen eyes, stopped himself from asking the obvious and instead said, "There's a catch."

Jill's lips quirked upward ever so lightly, ever so dryly. She nodded.

"There always is."

"I don't understand… Why not just leave me information about that plan? Why tell me about Plan B at all?"

"Because Plan B is part of it," Jill said. "Leon, how much does the BSAA know about Wesker's virus?"

Leon scrubbed one hand through his hair and huffed. "Barely anything. We're only just now studying Jake. That's about as far as we are."

"What have you guys learned?"

Leon narrowed his eyes at her, trying to follow what she was getting at.

"Only that the virus functions similarly to Las Plagas. It operates off a telecommunicative power structure. Since Jake is following Piers around like a lost puppy, we're assuming that any infected individual seen as more powerful than itself is pretty much seen as some sort of kin."

Jill nodded.

"Wesker has been able to very loosely control lower variations of C-Virus victims because of that. Be careful with Jake and Piers though. Jake will follow Piers now while he's weak, but once he gains strength… The difference between Wesker's virus and all the others is like the difference between humans and monkeys. We acknowledge that they're similar, but we don't hold them equal in any respect at all - neither do they. Once he's old enough, he won't see Piers like kin anymore. Not like that."

"So Wesker's at the top of this hierarchy then?"

"Yes," Jill said. "And right now, Chris is his second in command. The "heir to the throne", if you will."

Leon blinked.

"He wants Chris to replace him?"

Jill laughed honestly. "No! No, no - from the way he talked about Chris and the way he acted around Chris, he viewed him more like a particularly loyal and dumb dog. He took comfort from his presence, but he was sure to make sure Chris knew his place was at Wesker's feet."

"Then why…?"

"Think of pack dynamics, Leon. Whenever there's an alpha, there's always another ready to take its place. It's nature."

"Wesker wouldn't develop a virus that could potentially kick him from the top," Leon said.

"You're right. He made it so that the virus only would adapt with people with very specific blood pathogens – pathogens from his own blood that would need years to develop. Think of it like wine. The longer the pathogens age before the host's infection, the stronger the host. Chris was infected years before Wesker introduced him to the virus. Because of that, he's the only threat Wesker has. It's why Wesker has been so meticulous about keeping Chris near him during his transformation - he's trying to create a bond so that Chris won't be able to challenge him."

"What about Jake? I mean, he's his son. He's had the pathogens from birth, right?"

"Yes, he has - but they're weaker because of his mother. He's… in-between. Or at least he was. It's why Wesker was using his blood to make that fake "cure". It was going to help ease people into being able to accept the virus while also diminishing the likelihood that they'd be able to become even remotely as strong as Wesker himself. Chris was the only soldier he intended to have with strength like his own. Jake will be strong; stronger than normal people who might accept the virus. But he won't be like them."

Something clicked in Leon's face. He clenched his hands.

"You want Chris to challenge Wesker."

Jill looked away.

"We knew that even if the bullet worked, we'd need someone strong enough to fight Wesker while the acid worked away at him," Jill said and let that sink in, watching Leon connect the dots. "No human or enhanced person with a virus less than Wesker's could survive a fight long enough to do the job, even with Wesker weakened. And Chris proved that the bullet by itself wouldn't be enough. We need someone who can hold their own against him long enough to destroy him. I've seen them fight. Even as young as he is, Chris is powerful. He's our best shot at killing Wesker. If we shoot Wesker while Chris is fighting him, he'll have a decent shot at overpowering his master."

Leon stiffened.

"You saw him, Jill," Leon said, voice low. "Hell, you worked with him on that last operation. He's gone. How the hell do you expect him to fight Wesker when he's obeying every order the bastard gives?"

Something cold passed across Jill's face and Leon resisted a shudder. He watched as she closed herself down and lifted her eyes to meet his.

"That's the problem... Chris has to be far enough along in his transformation to be strong enough to take Wesker on, but he can't be so far gone that he isn't fighting back against Wesker's control anymore. If we wait much longer, Wesker will complete the bond he's been nurturing and he'll have Chris' loyalty."

"Sounds like this is pretty time sensitive… Why didn't you try this plan at the manor?"

"He was too young."

"How do you know all of this?" Leon finally asked.

Jill chuckled mirthlessly.

"Wesker is as intelligent as he is egotistical. He thought of me as nothing more than a blank doll. I was a great wall for him to praise himself to. And I always listened… It was the last thing I could choose to do for myself. He never went into too much depth, just snippets here and there, but I listened."

Leon moved his hand as if to grasp her's, but then he thought better of it. Instead, he pulled out his phone.

"I think you should talk to our lead researcher on the virus so far. I think between the two of you, we could pin a lot more information down," Leon said as he brought up Buddy's number and sent him a quick "Get over to 604C," before tucking his phone away. "Jill… If Chris wins, would he… would he come back?"

"He'd no longer have anyone influencing his mind, so it's possible," she said. "It would depend on the damage done to him…mentally."

"And if he doesn't?" Leon asked.

Jill swallowed and finally looked away.

"Then we kill him, too."

Leon's eyes widened minutely, but he didn't let the expression linger. Instead, he stood with a brief nod of understanding and walked to the door. Just as he was about to walk out, however, he paused – his back to Jill as he considered her from over his shoulder.

"Before I go, I have one more question."

"Yes?"

"You said that you and Ada didn't agree about using Chris against Wesker… why?"

When she didn't respond immediately, Leon turned slightly to look at her better. She seemed so small in her bed all of a sudden. Her pale body wrapped in cords and monitors, her eyes dull and sunken.

"Because," she said softly, "If we go through with it, he can never be human again. And after all these years, after everything he's fought for… I just couldn't do that to him. Not if there was another way."

Leon considered her words for what they were, but he nodded to her one last time and said, "Get some rest, Jill."

And then he left.

Chris found Jill's room by accident. He had been heading to the training floor in an effort to tire himself out and work through the new feelings and thoughts Wesker had managed to plant into his brain when he caught a scent he hadn't smelled in months, even after Jill had returned from Africa. It was the smell of lavender and gun oil. A smell that uniquely breathed Jill into his mind. But in the weeks that he had been with her here in Wesker's bunker, he had never smelled it on her. Not once.

So he followed the scent because he had nothing else to do. It brought him to her rooms, just as bland and simple as his own. There was a small cot to one side, a dresser, and a bathroom. To the naked eye, there was nothing special about it – but there was a feeling that the smell had ignited in him that he just couldn't shake. A memory of who Jill had been. His Jill… It smelled like her favorite shampoo, but the only shampoo he found in her bathroom was simple and without fragrance. And yet, the scent persisted – niggling at the back of his head like a forgotten word on the tip of one's tongue.

He stopped trying to rationalize where it could be and simply followed it, eyes closed and nose to the wind. It led him to her bed and under it, beneath the small gap that the bed and floor afforded. He lowered himself flat to the floor and found himself face to face with a plain shoebox. He held his breath and forced himself to stop, to throw his awareness inwards and check on the thick mental chain that tethered him to Wesker. The man was… researching in his lab. He didn't pry too heavily; he didn't want to catch the man's attention. All he needed to know was that his Alpha wasn't looking his way, and with the knowledge that he was safe – at least for the moment – he reached beneath the bed and withdrew the small, ordinary shoebox that smelled so richly of his past.

Once he had it in his hands, he drew himself up and rested his back against the side of the bed, his legs splayed out before him. He traced the edges of the cardboard box tentatively and wondered what Jill might have left behind. How much creative liberty did she have at the end of Wesker's leash, he wondered. Was it something completely ordinary? And if it was… why did it smell like lavender? He lifted the top slowly, only to stop the moment he caught a glimpse of what lay inside.

An envelope with his name on it, in her handwriting, saying simply – Chris.

With shaking hands, he placed the box top aside and reached for the envelope. It was too heavy just to be a letter, he realized as he measured its weight in his hands. It could be a trap, he realized. Another moment where Wesker was merely using his feelings for Jill against him… but he couldn't find the energy to care.

So without a second thought, he opened the envelope – and from it, three things slid into his lap. A folded piece of paper, a set of dog tags, and a single lavender flower. It was tiny between his large fingers, and it trembled delicately in his grasp. Sure enough, it was the source of the smell that had drawn him to Jill's room. He gently set it aside and reached next for the dog tags. It took mere seconds to recognize them as his own. He hadn't realized they had even gone missing, but surely Wesker had removed them upon his capture. Why Jill had them, though, was beyond him.

He set them back in his lap and reached for the final item – a note. He felt his heart freeze. The paper was thin and it shook as he unfolded it to reveal Jill's uniquely scratchy writing.

Don't give up. Remember what you're fighting for.

He rubbed his thumb across the indents of her words on the paper and wondered when she wrote them and how Wesker didn't know. He wondered if she had left it for him to find or if it was for herself. Had she taken his tags while Wesker wasn't looking? Had she hoped he'd find this?

Chris wanted to linger, but the looming worry that Wesker might "look" his way hastened him. He afforded himself just a moment to close his eyes and think of her before he returned the box to its place beneath Jill's bed. Then he tucked the flower and her letter back into their envelope and quickly slipped it into one of the many pockets of his fatigues. And finally, he wrapped the chain of his dog tags around his knuckles and shoved his hands into his pockets. He kept his mind carefully focused on the thoughts that had plagued him leading up to Jill's room, scattering self-depreciating thoughts over his mind as one might cover their tracks in the snow with a branch. It wasn't until he reached his room and checked Wesker's attention one last time before he stored his envelope away and laid himself out across his bed. With his fingers knuckle deep in the chain of his dog tags, he brought his hand above his heart and willed himself to sleep.

To fight for Wesker or against him… it was a question for another day.

[a/n] a million years later, I finally have a chapter update and this bit of news - we are finally nearing the end. I'd say there's about a quarter of story-work left before the end. And hopefully another update in the very near future. Thank you all for your continued patience and support, and for tagging along on this ride for - literally - years.