Can't Reset

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, blah, blah, blah, they belong to Capcom, blah, blah, blah. To fill in the gaps and what happened before, just go by S.D. Perry's version. Yes, I took some things from her but she does things SO well. I seem to also have absorbed her writing style into my own by osmosis, if you get that feeling whilst reading.

There are no real chapters, so run it all together. I've simply split the story into character views so I can update the story faster.

CAN'T RESET

"This wasn't some kind of game, where he could push a reset button if he missed a trick."

- Chris, Resident Evil: The Umbrella Conspiracy

There was a fearful leaden weight on Jill's eyelids as she tried to open them. The thick folds of consciousness were resistant to her waking, and as she pushed out of them reluctantly, they lapped at her, trying to stick on and hold back. But…no…the rain sound was too loud. The consistent shush of rainfall was pulling her out as she wanted to wake yet still wanted to stay in that utter soft solidity of sleep. It was a gorgeous sound. Water was so soothing to her. God, but it was annoying, getting so loud. At the moment she focused on what it was it became stronger and sucked her out of sick sleep.

Jill found balmy yellow light against her eyelids as she awoke out of hot, uncomfortable dreams. She was aware of space around her, if not much. There were metallic clicks somewhere close- very clear, with no echo, so it must've been a small room. The world was fuzzy for a moment as she opened her eyes, but soon candlelight came into focus. Dark mahogany wood, soft red carpet, hard pews…

Her thoughts were languid while she became aware of the humidity of the room. Her skin felt clammy and the atmosphere made her muscles like noodles. Jesus, her mouth was dry. Seemed ironic such being it was like a jungle in here. Dehydration, great. She had to get up, find some water-

God, she had to get her gun-

Zombies-

Spiders-

That big, ugly-assed hulk of shit-
            Jill's body sparked with desperate adrenalin and she jerked out of her stasis-

-Where in hell am I?

"Easy, Jill-" she heard Carlos' voice and an ice-cool hand on her shoulder, easing her down gently. To her surprise, she collapsed easily, body fatigued and weak beyond reason. Church, she thought as she recognized the setting before she slipped her eyes closed.

But everything was so confusing. Jill didn't know where to begin to make sense of things. Nemesis went off into the fiery wreckage of the helicopter- their last hope- because she blasted the shit out of the thing…but it could come back. It would come back, it giving a new meaning to relentless. Of course, that wasn't what she meant to be thinking…it was…was that she didn't know what happened after the Tyrant giant limped away. Or why in God's name she was in the chapel.

Carlos?

"Carlos…" she murmured.

"I'm here," he answered softly. Jill cracked her eyes open. He held a water bottle, looking strained and concerned. "Drink this, it'll help." His skin was thankfully cool as he held her up and tipped the liquid between her lips. Why was he so cold in the humidity? It was too muggy.

He capped the bottle and set it somewhere below where she was laying. Where was she laying? The altar? How strange-reminded her of some satanic B-movie sacrifice.

"Jill, you feelin' okay? Can you follow my finger?"

She rolled her eyes up and tracked his tanned finger as he brought it back and forth in front of him. She felt groggy, as if fighting off a sleeping pill.

"Okay, you're sorta slow, but at least you're awake. Are you alright?"

"What happened?"

He closed his mouth and his eyebrows came down a bit. After some hesitation, he answered. "It's been two days since the rescue attempt. Nemesis hasn't appeared since. You fainted or fell unconscious- I don't know because when I woke up you weren't moving. You had a wound-"

Oh, shit. The attack!

"-but after compression it quit bleeding and started to heal."

Jill attempted to sit up but her right shoulder- the wound- pulsed with a hard heat that kept her from going very far.

"Hey- don't try to get up. Just lay down and rest." He again pressed frigid fingers down on her arms to keep her still.

A wave of sluggishness dropped whatever tense muscles she had. His hand came up and pressed against her forehead. Jill closed her eyes, enjoying the cool of Carlos' palm seeping into her sticky skin.

"Its tentacle…went into my shoulder. God, Carlos…"

She felt his hand stiffen. "What's the matter?"

            She swallowed and tried to moisturize her mouth by compressing it.

            "It infected me."

            There was a silence. Jill opened her eyes and looked to Carlos. He was staring at her hard, mouth open a crack. His eyes swarmed in alarm.

            "Y-you…can't know that," he stammered. "Besides-it-it's been two days. Y-you should've…already…" His voice fell away. Jill swallowed heavily. He looked visibly shaken, and his deep brown eyes were darting which way and that. They returned to her desperate. Somehow, if it was possible, he looked even more strained. "Right…?"

            Jill couldn't stand looking at him any longer. She rolled over and curled.

            "I don't know. Maybe this is a different virus. Maybe it's because I was unconscious."

            Jill, you're going to die. You know it. No, not die. She was going to lose her self to some monster. To her body. She couldn't do anything about it, either. It was going to eat away at her comprehension and body. Slowly. And all she could do was lay there and wait-

            "I don't know. All I know is it's getting worse!"

            "Okay, okay, shh," Carlos said. She heard him moving around and turned to look. He grabbed his assault rifle and slung it over his shoulder. On the front pew, barely visible in the flitting light, were her bazooka and Eagle, which he snatched and secured determinedly. He looked extremely focused and angry, seething in something which made his movements deft and sure. Was he…?

            "Wha…What are you doing?"

            He answered without looking up. "I'm going to get something to help you."

            Jill blinked, reeling at his reply. To help…there wasn't…

            She was struck with a swell of emotion that tasted like gratitude and more like hopeless pity. Carlos wanted to find something that didn't exist. To save her. It was unbearable sweet in its patheticism. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want him to go out and fail and return…just to play the little drama. Why must they always play the last hope, when it was hopeless?

            Jill rolled back to watch the gentle candelabras with a fuzzy hardness behind her eyes. Just let him, she told herself. He wants to do it. It'll make him feel better…feel justified…when the time came she- turned. At least he made the gesture. At least he didn't accept the first course of events.

            She could feel his presence near the altar. Probably the stupid last look- don't go and do this Carlos, you know it's worthless. It's better if you just stay and remind me of my humanity up until the end- and put a bullet to good use as soon as my sense of self is dead…

            "Carlos."

            "Yes?" he responded hesitantly. He sounded as if he was afraid to listen, as if he knew what was coming.

            "When you come back…and I've turned into a zombie…I want you to do what I would do." She sighed and rested her eyes. 'Kill me."

            Carlos didn't reply. She heard his footsteps- heavy boots muffling on the carpet- and the ponderous chapel door closing.