She's running. She hears the dead moans behind her, the screams of the dying, ripping flesh and spurting blood. She knows she can't run forever. All she wants is to find Chris and together they can take down Umbrella. That is all she wants; then maybe the nightmares will end. She feels the cold, dead fingers grabbing her body, pulling her down to a wretched end...

Jill Valentine screamed, waking terribly from her nightmare. Her breathing was erratic, choked by tears and sweat. Upon her awakening, her hand instantly reached for her pistol, but within the same moment, she realized it was all an illusion, a torment created by her mind. A deep sigh escaped her lips, even as her heavy breathing continued. Just another nightmare...
She sat up in the darkness of the hotel room, all alone. For a brief instant, she was thankful that Barry and Carlos shared a different room than her, so they did not hear her scream. What bothered her about being alone, though, was that she always feared the coming of grotesque zombies or silent killers, and that she wished to be with Chris...
Her breathing returned to normal, Jill rose from the bed and moved to the large window illuminated by the moonlight. She held herself, shivering in the cold. She desired Chris's warm arms holding her so dearly... A hard shake of the head brought her thoughts away from that end. Why did she keep thinking of him that way?
Despite her reverences, she could not help but place a palm upon the glass and wonder where he was out there. Still no word, still no signs; they knew he was in Europe, but where...? She knew she should not be thinking this way--they had only grown so close--but she could not deny these emotions growing inside of her. Part of her wanted to desperately embrace them, just to make her seem all the more different from those undead creatures...
Jill shook her head, a bitter smile upon her face. It was not the Spencer incident that drove her to him, but rather the healing afterwards, running to him for comfort, even if he had been so distant. He had not told her of his own, secret battle against Umbrella, of his eventual plans to go to Europe, only holding her as she cried, filled with painful memories and endless nightmares. No, she was not weak; Chris confessed to his own tears. What happened back in that mansion in the woods would haunt all of them forever. Defeating Umbrella could only bring a bit of reprieve to their, her, unhappiness. She thought, maybe, the only thing that could possibly soothe her soul, end her pain, would be...
...Chris's love...
She cried at the thought. Maybe it was true, though. When the nightmares and memories became too intense for her to handle alone, she would always run to him at his apartment, falling into his arms and pouring her heart out to him. Her fear and tears almost seemed beneath her: her, Jill Valentine, former cat burglar who had enjoyed the hints of danger. Now, Umbrella monsters had broken her spirit and reduced her to a little girl in her unguarded moments. Fighting those things, she was unstoppable, just barely weakened by her fear. With everything over, she could no longer hold her hardened resolve, and it drove her to Chris, to draw strength from his strength...
They had... They had once seemed close to kissing, to sharing a small taste of each other's lips, but... something drew them away, whether it was the phone, their realizations, or their own inhibitions. Regardless, she would spend the night with him during those harder times, sleeping in the same bed, which he insisted upon. She could read in his eyes that the request was not some desire to assert his manliness, but rather his similar need to push back the cold within his soul, to not feel so alone, to... be human. He would always kiss her upon the forehead, like he often did when she was in his arms, and it always made her shiver with pleasure, even if he did not always feel it. Sometimes she would wake to find his arm around her, and sometimes it was hers on him, but, either way, it made her feel so close to him, emotionally and physically, and it gave her dreams, not nightmares but dreams! Her dreams in those nights beside him were what kept her sanity still hanging on, at least a little...
Maybe all that was why she really loved him. She was in love with Chris Redfield. He pushed back the cold from her soul, striped her of nightmares, and made her feel warm and safe, no longer alone. She loved him for always being there, and yet now he was gone. She did not care if absence made the heart grow fonder: she was fond enough of him.
She missed him terribly... Jill gently kissed her fingertips and placed them upon the glass: a kiss for her beloved, promised for later. She allowed herself to drift back to the bed and partially cover herself with the blanket. Even though Chris was not with her now, she prayed for the same dreams that would come to her in his presence. As her eyes closed slowly and her body drifted off to sleep, the current words on her mind whispered through her lips: "Chris, I love you..."

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Resident Evil except for this fanfic.
For explaining purposes, I have only played everything up to RE:CV and read the first two books, so if something happened to Jill that makes this fanfic wrong in terms of storyline, not assumption, I apologize. I don't own a Gamecube, so I probably won't be playing the latest RE1 any time soon. This also happens to be my very first fanfic ever, so reviews would be greatly appriciated. I tried keeping to the spirit of Jill's character, while also exloring my own assumptions, which were probably brought on by reading too much RE fanfiction to begin with. ^_^