Author's note: Once again, we are nearing the ending, and once again, I'm trying my best for a nice build-up. Once again, a little philosophy littered here and there, not to mention a little more into some of the characters' mind frame. Strangely, Jill is absent in this chapter, I guess that means all hell would have to break loose in the last chapter.
Linda: Wow, you actually logged in this time! Hey, to answer your question…read a little further.
RE-babe: Yeah, truth is, I knew I had to answer that question sometime. But I like keeping my universe in check, so I'm keeping in with the continuity from my other stories, and since I have no clue what I'll do with Claire and Leon after their little run-through in "Remember Heaven", I couldn't put either of them up in this story. So, sorry about that.
Tek: It isn't cheating…it's optimizing time.
Dragonfight: Well, he's still alive. And hey, cured now.
Frenchy: Yeah, thanks for rudely and obnoxiously pointing that out. By the way, why can't you name yourself "Catch 22"? Isn't Beckham a little too old and a little too married for you?
Chapter 9: "Self-destruct"
"…" He felt abandoned. Reason, logic, answers, nothing made sense anymore as he brooded in his room. It was something he was getting exceptionally good at the past few days since Chris batted him right across his face. Mark didn't wear anything, other than a pair of gray jogging pants, the ones that he used when he works out in his room with a pair of old, black weights. Stressing himself, exhausting himself, it was a way for him to release his anger without directly having to hurt himself.
Twisted as it was, Mark found that lightly hurting himself, punching his lap hard or banging the back of his head, gave him momentary relief, feeling as how much he deserved to be hurt for the trouble that he caused. With a deep breath, he touched his cheek, grateful for the fact that the black mark from Chris' knuckle was already gone, seeing as he had a difficult time hiding it from his grandmother.
Thankfully, she was always in bed, and it was easy for mark to supply her with her meals as well as conceal the bruise that he had. He was about to go on another round of weights when the phone rang, prompting him to go out the hall where the phone was gently sitting on a small table.
"Hello?" he asked grimly, in a tone that would seem uncaring of the current events.
"…Mark, this is Lisa." The voice from the other line greeted glumly, very much like him.
"…Hey." He responded, leaning forward on the small table to rest his back.
"It…wasn't just the drug that caused her to be like that." She said.
"…Oh?" At that moment, he really didn't care. From what she said, it was still a factor, and all that she was doing was reminding him of how much he failed the Redfields.
"…Aren't you glad?" she asked weakly. She knew that it would be improper for him to light up with the news that he wasn't completely at fault, that it was a forgivable mistake, but she felt that he would at least be an inch back to his former self. "…Yeah, I guess I am." He said, wanting the conversation to end; he still wasn't in the most sociable mood.
It wasn't the only factor, something that Mark realized some time ago as he locked himself in the room. Science always had a reason for the things that God did not explain. "…What if this was meant to be?" Then again, what science can't explain, it's where faith takes a stand. He didn't want to think of the chances that these events were bordering on some morbid pre-destination, or the equal chances that this was in fact, all a game of chance.
The gambit that this was a divine plan was just equivalent to the possibility that this was the summation of uncontrollably controlled components that lead to a whole. Other than how Heart was doing, these were the thoughts that plagued Mark's mind. He didn't want to believe that this was a higher being's handy work. They were in love; they were in complete fixation to each other's eyes, that to tear them apart would just be horrific.
No loving God would have let something like that happen. But then again, Mark would just look around, see how the world works. Corruption, greed, hatred, and lies, then Mark would doubt the very existence of a being so loving, as the Bible, or the Koran, would state. There was too much pain in the world, too much to believe that there is a lighter side to all of it.
On the other hand, there was the idea that this was all drowned in the pit of humanity. The notion that he existentially put this all on himself, that each and every aspect of what was happening now, was based solely on his decisions and irresponsibility. There was just no good way out. It was either his fault, or the fault of higher being that he was raised to love and worship. He couldn't abandon his love to self-doubt. He couldn't abandon his faith to love. It was just a spiral of mental torture for the young man, who rested face-first on his bed. Incapable of doing anything else but wallow in self-pity.
Lisa hung the payphone's receiver back in its cradle. The corridor was empty, and the patients were all resting. A few others nurses passed by, all of them, including Lisa, hating the fact that they were assigned night duty. She brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek to the back of her ear, walking silently to Heart's room.
The door was half-open, with a small ray of light peering into the dark room. Slowly, she made her way to the small opening, taking a look inside the practically pitch black space. The silhouette of Chris Redfield, sleeping, could be discerned from the shadows. He had his face down on folded elbows, resting on the side of Heart's bed. He was breathing soundly, softly, from what Lisa saw a few days ago, he needed the rest. It must have been one of those days when Jill would be too tired to look after Heart herself.
"…" Lisa walked inside as silently as she could, and with the best of her vision, opened a drawer just by the door. Softly, she took out a small gray blanket, unfolded it, and every gently placed it around the sleeping man's shoulders. "You deserve more than this…" she thought, as she tried to comprehend the train of thought these people must have been in before they could finally find sleep.
"Looks like you'll need a vacation after this." Rebecca whispered to Lisa, standing just outside the darkened room. "I need a vacation right now, doctor." Lisa replied jokingly. Injecting humor into utter darkness was the only thing some people could do when faced with depression.
"Looks like you really care for these people." Rebecca said as Lisa stepped outside, softly closing the door behind her. "…I care for all my patients."
"Spoken like a doctor."
"…Lisa?"
"Yes, doctor Oliviera?"
"…You'll do well in this profession."
"…Thank you."
"Lisa?"
"Yes, doctor?"
"I have something I need to tell you…"
Lisa bit her lower lip, feeling the gravity of the doctor's words. "Come with me to the lab. I wouldn't want him to hear." She said as she started to turn and walk to the end of the corridor. Their footsteps echoed hauntingly, Lisa almost expected them to stop while the sounds of feet thudding against the floor would still continue without them. "The thing inside Heart's body…it's…you shouldn't be too attached to the patients here…do you understand?"
"…" The doctor's words quickly lodged themselves into Lisa's senses. She knew full well what Rebecca meant when she uttered those words. "…Are we giving up on her?" Lisa asked, folding her arms over her chest. "…She's dying, and there's nothing we can do about it."
"You're a doctor."
"I'm human." Rebecca rubbed her temples and sat down, once again in front of her microscope, while Lisa stood a few feet away from her. "There's no cure, is there?" the nurse asked, feeling more and more depressed. "We pumped Jill Valentine with enough vaccines to turn an elephant into a vegetable, just to kill this thing. It didn't die, and now, it's adapted to the chemicals that we used."
"But wasn't that a more than a decade ago? Don't we have anything new?"
"…Her physiology won't allow it. If we use any more medicine on her, the virus might just…eat it, and turn into something physical, something that could burst out of her and infect us all. The…reason why I didn't let Justin use the defibrillator is because the shock could jumpstart this thing, and kill Heart from inside." She tried to explain. Her eyes were far away now; she was reliving her days as one of the fighters who fought against Umbrella. Lisa knew Rebecca's past history, the fact that monsters did exist, but still couldn't find herself to believe that a reject from an Aliens movie could come out of Heart in anytime. "So, you're telling me that it's hopeless."
"This thing won't go away, it won't die, and it won't stop, until it eats all of her insides, free itself, and then presumably kill us all."
"Please don't tell me I'm living in a soap opera."
"Heart only has a few days left…" Rebecca suddenly announced, catching Lisa off guard. "And I honestly…don't have a clue what I'm going to do next." The doctor then said, looking as if it was some complex orbital problem that she had to decipher. "I don't think I can face them with the news."
"…You…want me to be the one to tell them?"
"…I can't handle this anymore." Rebecca said with a soft sigh, her eyes were puffy and red, the result of hard work and tears combined. "…Neither can I. Jill saved my life once…I can't tell her that…" Lisa stuttered, trying to find the right words, but ultimately failing.
"I don't want to tell them that their kid is going to die." The nurse then said, gritting her teeth in frustration.
Chris took a deep breath and turned away from the door, his heart hitting rock bottom after eavesdropping on what the two people were talking about inside the lab. He pushed his hands into his pockets, feeling a cold brush running across his skin. Chris had on a gray sweater and a pair of black slacks, still not enough to keep him warm. The walk back to his room seemed longer now, harder even. "…their kid is going to die…" Her words kept on dancing inside his head, a slow, steady beat that never ends. He stopped and turned his head to see Heart's peaceful state, knowing now the turmoil that must have been going on inside her.
She wasn't like she was before. Her eyes were now sunken, her skin pale with the joints becoming darker. Her long hair lost its shine, while her lips were now just as white as her skin. The sickness was burrowing through from inside, making her look more and more like how she would be if they won't find a cure. "Should I tell Jill?" he asked himself as he gently closed the door, not wanting to see her body anymore. "Mr. Redfield?"
Lisa stood a few feet away from him, nervously clutching a clipboard with both her hands. Like Heart, she too wasn't as beautiful as when they first saw her. She was thinner now, with the lack of sleep showing as rings underneath her eyes. Of course, like Heart, she was still beautiful, it just didn't show as much as it used to. "…I…"
"I heard." Chris said, saving the nurse the pain if having to bear the news herself. He didn't blame Rebecca for having to task it onto somebody else, especially since what has happened between them. "You…did…? Lisa's vice like grip on her clipboard became softer, but the look of trepidation, mixed with sadness, was still prevalent over the rest of her features. "How long before…she…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish the question. There was something inherently wrong in asking somebody when the girl they are taking care of would die.
Lisa caught on. "…Three days at most. I'm…really sorry, Mr. Redfield. Really…" Chris nodded and bit his lower lip, his face was faltering. Lisa turned her eyes away, realizing how uncomfortable it must be for somebody like Chris. He didn't want to think about his daughter, but the harder he tried, more and more flashes of the past came over him, the more he felt like breaking down. He felt like it was so long since he last talked to her, seen her smile. Carpe Diem. "…Just let it out, Mr. Redfield." Lisa whispered. "It'll be easier." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Chris nodded, and without any other word, he began to whimper, something all adults do when not in the company of most others.
"She's our only daughter." He said, before finally letting his tears flow. Lisa closed her eyes and took the older man into her embrace, letting him dry his tears over her shoulder.
Rebecca closed the door and leaned her back against it, with the image of one of her best friends in utter devastation, running over and over in her mind. Like them, she was exhausted, with every facet of her being in complete discord. The notions that there was nothing she could do, the voices that keep on telling her that she quit on somebody, especially the conclusion that was looming in the horizon, made her cry. It was something she hasn't done in ages, something that her senses wished to do the moment she began to doubt her own capabilities.
She fell down, still leaning on the door, and let it out. Her anger, her frustration, self-pity, she let it cascade down her cheeks along with the crystalline salt water. It kept on nagging at her, the notion that all of this suffering started with something she overlooked, it was too much for her to bear. So she cried. She hugged her knees and looked up, finding the dark ceiling, blurred by her tears. All of them, Chris, Rebecca, Mark, and soon enough Jill, they were all about to self-destruct.
Author's note: Yes, they will all suffer in the next (final!) chapter, the big question is will there actually be a happy ending after all this gloom and…whatever rhymes? The biggest twist I could possibly pull of is that Heart survives, everybody celebrates, and she and Mark move to a farm in Missouri. Then again, I could just kill somebody…again. No, that would be too obvious. I hope Heart lives through this.