Author's Notes: Again, I'm eternally grateful for those incredibly kind
reviews that I've received from a surprising number of people... I'm
unbelievably glad that so many enjoyed this piece, and I shall definitely
continue to develop it. I apologize for the rather large delays between
chapters, but, as stated previously, relationship complications and dual-
enrollment in university can place quite a crimp in your writing schedule..
Disclaimer: Resident Evil is a copyright of Capcom, inc., and I assert no ownership of it. If by their request, I shall immediately remove this piece from fanfiction.net, and anywhere else that it may be posted and\or archived.
Well, today was really, unbelievably awful. Irons, that lousy mound of incompetence, decided to not only force us to attend another psychiatric session, but also decided that it should be a GROUP SESSION. I thought today would be terrible, but I didn't realize that it would be this agonizing.
What a truly magnificent joy it was to sit in a room with three people that I hate with an intense passion, and one other whose sole purpose seems to be to solicit dates with me, and listen to some idiot drone on and on about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, the dangers of not "communicating our problems to others," and other nonsensical psycho-babble that really has no practical purpose. This man is NOT what Freud wanted to represent the psychiatric sciences... Hell, none of these morons are. Of course, this is probably Irons' way of telling us that it would be a lot easier if we committed suicide, and were permanently out of Umbrella's hair.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning... I had the misfortune of arriving late, and being cooed over by Jill, somehow now my surrogate mother, because I looked horribly haggard... My description, not hers. Yeah, I'll admit it; I'm haggard. Not in the sense of appearances, even though I do look older than eighteen, but just in my demeanor... Damn right, I'd say. I haven't slept well in days, and the time that I have been asleep has been a torrent of agonizing memories of Albert that cause me to wake up sobbing, because I know that they're only dreams... Damn, it's just been one memory after another torn from the depths of so many, and made so real that, when I awake, I expect to feel the warm mass of his body next to me, and hear him tell me, "Rebecca, I'm still here. You just had a nightmare; you're all right, and I'll always be here next to you."
It's only been two weeks since the last time that I felt him next to me, that we made love, but it feels as though it's been an eternity; it may as well have been. This intense agony is something that I never thought that I'd feel, something that I never thought was possible, but it's a constant specter in my life, standing over my shoulder, taunting me, daring me to take that final step, and to just be rid of this excruciating pain... I won't reach for that Beretta in the drawer; I won't reach for that bottle of wine, because I know that I won't be able to stop if I do. That demon will take control if I even seriously consider that final step, and I won't let it... He promised me that he'd return, and I believe him.
After that 'meeting,' the psychiatrist made us travel back into the woods surrounding the Spencer Mansion, because it would be a 'healing experience.' Hardly. There's nothing there any longer, as, even if there were remnants of BOWs or evidence, Umbrella's UBCS, its mercenary dogs of war; or the elite ERRT, the Emergency Recover and Response Team (quite a diplomatic maneuvering of words; their purpose is to kill witnesses, recover important objects, and to destroy evidence), would have destroyed it by now. Of course, Bioject's HCF division would've also recovered Albert... I can't hope enough that they were successful. Of course, according to Birkin, it would take a small army to stop something that awoke after the use of the 'dead-emulation (DE) virus.' What a wonder of genetic manipulation... Instead of causing cellular degradation and rapid, artificial 'aging' of the organic systems; along with an incapacitation of all but the most basic motor-control and 'lizard' instinct sections of the brain, which the T, G, and T-Veronica-Viruses accomplished, that virus causes an exponential growth of function... A human becomes an unstoppable force in only a few hours. However, that was the only sample, and it disappears entirely from the body a few hours after the effects reach their peak... Bioject can't have it; Albert is the only one that possesses it, now, and nothing can stop him.
Well, we stood in the woods, just staring at the charred, blackened remains of the Bravo Team helicopter, dark ichors, the blood of fallen 'comrades,' coating the ground around it. So many lives were lost; however, I can't bring myself to truly care, except for Marini. All of those others were nuisances; insignificant menaces... I didn't like seeing them die in such horrible ways, but it was my duty to kill them, anyway, and it just made my job easier; it's sick, I know, but I'm glad that they died by the hands of these monsters, because it alleviated my conscience at least somewhat.
However, there is something special, and something so ironic about this spot... This very point, this very copse of blackened trees was the site of that first, magnificent, magical night... I can still see where, laughing, he carved, "RC+AW"... Insignificant initials, carved in a fit of fancy on a tree; something completely anonymous to anyone else, but not to me...
That incredible night... After that chance encounter at that horribly dull party, our inadvertent collision, and that spontaneous decision to go out exploring... Logically, I should've been wary about exploring a dark, deserted woods with someone that I'd just met, someone that very well could've been as dangerous and evil as he was charming. However, that night, I threw logic out the window. I never regretted it, and I never will. Logically, I never should've kissed him upon just seeing that brilliant, electric smile of his, but logic didn't matter that night.
After we first kissed, and separated for that brief, yet seemingly infinite moment, while we looked up at the only witnesses to that seemingly enchanted evening: the moon, the planets, and the stars; I felt as though my heart and mind would burst. A euphoria so intense, so brilliant, that I couldn't believe it... I was so terrified for time to continue on, that he might've just been spontaneously responding, and that he didn't really feel that way, but I was also anxious, because I still had that hope that he really felt how I did, that his charm was reserved only for me, even though we'd just met.
I still can't help but grin stupidly when I remember that... Returning our attention to each other after the moment of helpless, breathless tension, our eyes met again, and, rising minutely from the slightly damp, yet wonderfully comfortable, leaf-padded ground, I lunged at him, landing fully on top of him, and pressing my mouth to his again. I knew as I opened my eyes, and saw the intense passion raging in his own; cobalt, dark and slightly-lidded with that euphoric high that I'd only read about, that he felt as I did, that there was no mistake, no turning back. I knew that my own eyes were the same, and, even though we were still seemingly completely linked, our bodies and lips pressed together, I think that his head nodded minutely, almost imperceptibly.
I felt his hands gently stroke along the length of my back to my hair, and run through it, his hands moving so gently that it was only a ghost of a touch, that I had to imagine more than feel it; the sensation that it brought was like a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins, and I whimpered against his lips, just from the sheer ecstasy of it. I could feel his lips turn upwards into what I imagined to be a dark, passionate, yet still gentle and caring version of that usual- if you could call something so majestic usual- brilliant smile of his, and his other hand played along my back, still only a specter of a sensation, all of my senses devoted to feeling that light, yet so intense, feeling.
I closed my eyes again, and just gave into the wave of euphoria that I was riding, that he was creating for me, and let him lead me to the peak. I could feel him gently press my lips more forcefully against his, but the pressure was never too rough, never too powerful, to destroy that electric gentleness. I felt his hands gently run across the expanse of my body, questing to bring as much sensation as possible with those unbelievably light, yet so powerful touches, until they reached my waist, and I opened my eyes disappointedly as I felt his lips pull away from mine, dissatisfaction evident in my expression.
"Rebecca," he began, "will you let me go further? If this is too fast, then just tell me... I don't want to push you into anything."
I frowned for a moment, and then I saw a flash of pain dart through his expression, and I realized that he misunderstood what I mean, and in that, that he really cared, that he didn't just want a cheap night with some inexperienced, naive girl in a world too large for her.
To my surprise, and his, I laughed softly, and then spoke, my voice more gentle and fragile than I'd ever heard it. "Albert, of course I want you to continue. I know that this is only our first day; hell, our first night knowing each other, but that doesn't matter... People fall in love all the time, don't they? Why should we be any different?" I didn't directly say that I loved him, but it was what I felt, and what he knew, also. It would've been stupid and redundant to say it after that.
His response was an almost shocked opening of his mouth, as though he didn't expect me to have such practical wisdom about people, and then a return of that gentle, beautiful smile. "I love you too, Rebecca. Let me show you how much I love you..."
I felt him gently unzip my dress, his hands running along my exposed flesh, and I was lost in a wave of sensation. I barely was able to coherently think in that intense blur of joy and love that seemed to be both mere seconds, but also infinity. That first, sharp, almost overwhelming pain, his whispered apologies, and then the complete collapse of it in the face of the pure, overwhelming sensation of ecstasy as we became one, as we were truly joined. I still can feel the kisses, the slow, gentle rocking, the incredible pleasure of mind, body, and emotion, and that final, explosive, mind-numbing plummet from the precipice, a clarity of mind finally returning after what seemed to be hours.
I felt the cooling sweat on our bodies in the crisp air, the blanket that we'd made of our clothes, and the incredible, comforting warmth of his strong, inviting body against mine. My head on his chest, we just lay there for hours, gently drifting off into a light, exhausted slumber, before he woke me. "Rebecca, it's almost four AM," his gentle, yet insistent bass voice roused me from my shallow sleep.
"Mmmm...." I groaned, before drowsily opening my eyes. "How long have we been asleep?" I mumbled.
"Probably three hours, Rebecca. Why don't I take you home?"
"What? Of course not. Can't we go back to your apartment?"
He chuckled for a moment, and then replied, "I see your point... Yes, let's get dressed and return to my apartment." He whispered gently before kissing me lightly, and stroking through my hair.
Smiling drowsily, I regretfully rose, and then slipped into my dress, still feeling too tired to think coherently. I grinned languidly as I watched him lazily step into his clothes, occasionally stumbling on his pants, and then grasped his arm as he led me back to the car, and then to his apartment...
My parents didn't exactly appreciate that I never returned that night, but I didn't care. I still don't.
As usual, I'm crying, but I still feel better, now that I've remembered this... Even if I feel horribly lonely, and these reminiscences definitely aren't helping, the memories still are a comfort...
Goodnight, Albert; I love you.
Author's note: Well, the third chapter is finally complete. After much not so gentle prodding by Cherry (both Rebecca and I thank you for that, by the way), I finally forced Rebecca to speak... And, well, this came from it. I hope that it didn't seem too wistful and sappy, but, well, she's remembering Wesker and their first really romantic experience... Don't worry, however: much angst and more disturbing revelations will follow. And, if you're those that are wondering why there isn't any violence: although this is a primarily romantic piece, this is still Resident Evil, so, eventually, there will be some gruesome action. Also, I tried to make the love scene as romantic and non-graphic as possible; I hope that I succeeded. Again, thank you to those that suffered through this, and all of the preceding pieces, and a massive, 'thank you,' to all those that reviewed this. Guten Nacht, Alle!
Disclaimer: Resident Evil is a copyright of Capcom, inc., and I assert no ownership of it. If by their request, I shall immediately remove this piece from fanfiction.net, and anywhere else that it may be posted and\or archived.
Well, today was really, unbelievably awful. Irons, that lousy mound of incompetence, decided to not only force us to attend another psychiatric session, but also decided that it should be a GROUP SESSION. I thought today would be terrible, but I didn't realize that it would be this agonizing.
What a truly magnificent joy it was to sit in a room with three people that I hate with an intense passion, and one other whose sole purpose seems to be to solicit dates with me, and listen to some idiot drone on and on about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, the dangers of not "communicating our problems to others," and other nonsensical psycho-babble that really has no practical purpose. This man is NOT what Freud wanted to represent the psychiatric sciences... Hell, none of these morons are. Of course, this is probably Irons' way of telling us that it would be a lot easier if we committed suicide, and were permanently out of Umbrella's hair.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning... I had the misfortune of arriving late, and being cooed over by Jill, somehow now my surrogate mother, because I looked horribly haggard... My description, not hers. Yeah, I'll admit it; I'm haggard. Not in the sense of appearances, even though I do look older than eighteen, but just in my demeanor... Damn right, I'd say. I haven't slept well in days, and the time that I have been asleep has been a torrent of agonizing memories of Albert that cause me to wake up sobbing, because I know that they're only dreams... Damn, it's just been one memory after another torn from the depths of so many, and made so real that, when I awake, I expect to feel the warm mass of his body next to me, and hear him tell me, "Rebecca, I'm still here. You just had a nightmare; you're all right, and I'll always be here next to you."
It's only been two weeks since the last time that I felt him next to me, that we made love, but it feels as though it's been an eternity; it may as well have been. This intense agony is something that I never thought that I'd feel, something that I never thought was possible, but it's a constant specter in my life, standing over my shoulder, taunting me, daring me to take that final step, and to just be rid of this excruciating pain... I won't reach for that Beretta in the drawer; I won't reach for that bottle of wine, because I know that I won't be able to stop if I do. That demon will take control if I even seriously consider that final step, and I won't let it... He promised me that he'd return, and I believe him.
After that 'meeting,' the psychiatrist made us travel back into the woods surrounding the Spencer Mansion, because it would be a 'healing experience.' Hardly. There's nothing there any longer, as, even if there were remnants of BOWs or evidence, Umbrella's UBCS, its mercenary dogs of war; or the elite ERRT, the Emergency Recover and Response Team (quite a diplomatic maneuvering of words; their purpose is to kill witnesses, recover important objects, and to destroy evidence), would have destroyed it by now. Of course, Bioject's HCF division would've also recovered Albert... I can't hope enough that they were successful. Of course, according to Birkin, it would take a small army to stop something that awoke after the use of the 'dead-emulation (DE) virus.' What a wonder of genetic manipulation... Instead of causing cellular degradation and rapid, artificial 'aging' of the organic systems; along with an incapacitation of all but the most basic motor-control and 'lizard' instinct sections of the brain, which the T, G, and T-Veronica-Viruses accomplished, that virus causes an exponential growth of function... A human becomes an unstoppable force in only a few hours. However, that was the only sample, and it disappears entirely from the body a few hours after the effects reach their peak... Bioject can't have it; Albert is the only one that possesses it, now, and nothing can stop him.
Well, we stood in the woods, just staring at the charred, blackened remains of the Bravo Team helicopter, dark ichors, the blood of fallen 'comrades,' coating the ground around it. So many lives were lost; however, I can't bring myself to truly care, except for Marini. All of those others were nuisances; insignificant menaces... I didn't like seeing them die in such horrible ways, but it was my duty to kill them, anyway, and it just made my job easier; it's sick, I know, but I'm glad that they died by the hands of these monsters, because it alleviated my conscience at least somewhat.
However, there is something special, and something so ironic about this spot... This very point, this very copse of blackened trees was the site of that first, magnificent, magical night... I can still see where, laughing, he carved, "RC+AW"... Insignificant initials, carved in a fit of fancy on a tree; something completely anonymous to anyone else, but not to me...
That incredible night... After that chance encounter at that horribly dull party, our inadvertent collision, and that spontaneous decision to go out exploring... Logically, I should've been wary about exploring a dark, deserted woods with someone that I'd just met, someone that very well could've been as dangerous and evil as he was charming. However, that night, I threw logic out the window. I never regretted it, and I never will. Logically, I never should've kissed him upon just seeing that brilliant, electric smile of his, but logic didn't matter that night.
After we first kissed, and separated for that brief, yet seemingly infinite moment, while we looked up at the only witnesses to that seemingly enchanted evening: the moon, the planets, and the stars; I felt as though my heart and mind would burst. A euphoria so intense, so brilliant, that I couldn't believe it... I was so terrified for time to continue on, that he might've just been spontaneously responding, and that he didn't really feel that way, but I was also anxious, because I still had that hope that he really felt how I did, that his charm was reserved only for me, even though we'd just met.
I still can't help but grin stupidly when I remember that... Returning our attention to each other after the moment of helpless, breathless tension, our eyes met again, and, rising minutely from the slightly damp, yet wonderfully comfortable, leaf-padded ground, I lunged at him, landing fully on top of him, and pressing my mouth to his again. I knew as I opened my eyes, and saw the intense passion raging in his own; cobalt, dark and slightly-lidded with that euphoric high that I'd only read about, that he felt as I did, that there was no mistake, no turning back. I knew that my own eyes were the same, and, even though we were still seemingly completely linked, our bodies and lips pressed together, I think that his head nodded minutely, almost imperceptibly.
I felt his hands gently stroke along the length of my back to my hair, and run through it, his hands moving so gently that it was only a ghost of a touch, that I had to imagine more than feel it; the sensation that it brought was like a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins, and I whimpered against his lips, just from the sheer ecstasy of it. I could feel his lips turn upwards into what I imagined to be a dark, passionate, yet still gentle and caring version of that usual- if you could call something so majestic usual- brilliant smile of his, and his other hand played along my back, still only a specter of a sensation, all of my senses devoted to feeling that light, yet so intense, feeling.
I closed my eyes again, and just gave into the wave of euphoria that I was riding, that he was creating for me, and let him lead me to the peak. I could feel him gently press my lips more forcefully against his, but the pressure was never too rough, never too powerful, to destroy that electric gentleness. I felt his hands gently run across the expanse of my body, questing to bring as much sensation as possible with those unbelievably light, yet so powerful touches, until they reached my waist, and I opened my eyes disappointedly as I felt his lips pull away from mine, dissatisfaction evident in my expression.
"Rebecca," he began, "will you let me go further? If this is too fast, then just tell me... I don't want to push you into anything."
I frowned for a moment, and then I saw a flash of pain dart through his expression, and I realized that he misunderstood what I mean, and in that, that he really cared, that he didn't just want a cheap night with some inexperienced, naive girl in a world too large for her.
To my surprise, and his, I laughed softly, and then spoke, my voice more gentle and fragile than I'd ever heard it. "Albert, of course I want you to continue. I know that this is only our first day; hell, our first night knowing each other, but that doesn't matter... People fall in love all the time, don't they? Why should we be any different?" I didn't directly say that I loved him, but it was what I felt, and what he knew, also. It would've been stupid and redundant to say it after that.
His response was an almost shocked opening of his mouth, as though he didn't expect me to have such practical wisdom about people, and then a return of that gentle, beautiful smile. "I love you too, Rebecca. Let me show you how much I love you..."
I felt him gently unzip my dress, his hands running along my exposed flesh, and I was lost in a wave of sensation. I barely was able to coherently think in that intense blur of joy and love that seemed to be both mere seconds, but also infinity. That first, sharp, almost overwhelming pain, his whispered apologies, and then the complete collapse of it in the face of the pure, overwhelming sensation of ecstasy as we became one, as we were truly joined. I still can feel the kisses, the slow, gentle rocking, the incredible pleasure of mind, body, and emotion, and that final, explosive, mind-numbing plummet from the precipice, a clarity of mind finally returning after what seemed to be hours.
I felt the cooling sweat on our bodies in the crisp air, the blanket that we'd made of our clothes, and the incredible, comforting warmth of his strong, inviting body against mine. My head on his chest, we just lay there for hours, gently drifting off into a light, exhausted slumber, before he woke me. "Rebecca, it's almost four AM," his gentle, yet insistent bass voice roused me from my shallow sleep.
"Mmmm...." I groaned, before drowsily opening my eyes. "How long have we been asleep?" I mumbled.
"Probably three hours, Rebecca. Why don't I take you home?"
"What? Of course not. Can't we go back to your apartment?"
He chuckled for a moment, and then replied, "I see your point... Yes, let's get dressed and return to my apartment." He whispered gently before kissing me lightly, and stroking through my hair.
Smiling drowsily, I regretfully rose, and then slipped into my dress, still feeling too tired to think coherently. I grinned languidly as I watched him lazily step into his clothes, occasionally stumbling on his pants, and then grasped his arm as he led me back to the car, and then to his apartment...
My parents didn't exactly appreciate that I never returned that night, but I didn't care. I still don't.
As usual, I'm crying, but I still feel better, now that I've remembered this... Even if I feel horribly lonely, and these reminiscences definitely aren't helping, the memories still are a comfort...
Goodnight, Albert; I love you.
Author's note: Well, the third chapter is finally complete. After much not so gentle prodding by Cherry (both Rebecca and I thank you for that, by the way), I finally forced Rebecca to speak... And, well, this came from it. I hope that it didn't seem too wistful and sappy, but, well, she's remembering Wesker and their first really romantic experience... Don't worry, however: much angst and more disturbing revelations will follow. And, if you're those that are wondering why there isn't any violence: although this is a primarily romantic piece, this is still Resident Evil, so, eventually, there will be some gruesome action. Also, I tried to make the love scene as romantic and non-graphic as possible; I hope that I succeeded. Again, thank you to those that suffered through this, and all of the preceding pieces, and a massive, 'thank you,' to all those that reviewed this. Guten Nacht, Alle!