Well everyone this is it the last but I do have a sequel on the way soon.
But I would like to thank everyone who has taken time to read the story and
a special thanks for those who had reviewed it. I'll leave you to read now.
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Wesker had been driving a day straight the only time he stopped was to refuel his jeep. He was trying to make this trip as short as possible, pushing himself to get back to Isabel. Pulling onto his old street, instinct seemed to take over, guiding Wesker to his mother's house. It had been twenty years since Wesker had been on this street. After his mother had died and he had been recruited by Umbrella he had never returned. Wesker did have someone come in once a week to clean the house and keep the yard trimmed.
Wesker always thought of himself as being beyond sentimentality, but for some reason he had kept the property. The house was just as Wesker remembered as he pulled into the driveway. Painted a light yellow color, a small concrete porch surrounded by a cast iron fence allowed entrance to the front door. The front yard was small, only running the width of the house and stretching from the sidewalk up to the porch, which was only about five yards. A small walk cut through the yard, connecting the sidewalk to the porch. There were no brightly colored flowers as with the other houses on the street, the only vegetation was the neatly trimmed grass. The driveway Wesker stood on was a little to the left of the house, only wide and long enough for one car, all the houses on the street were built the same way, the driveways putting enough space between the houses so that they weren't right on top of each other. Taking a short cut through the grass, in his minds eye Wesker could see his old bike leaning against the railing, as it had always done. Walking up the cement steps onto the porch, he searched his key chain for the key that would open the front door.
Walking into the house, it too was how Wesker remembered it. The stairs that lead up to the bedrooms stood before him in the entryway. To his right was the family room to his left was the living room and kitchen. Unable to stop himself, Wesker walked to his left. It was like walking back in time. As he walked through the living room Wesker recalled how his mother had used it for special occasions only. When his father's parents would visit, that's where everyone would sit after dinner drinking coffee. Wesker could again, in his minds eye see Rosalie Wesker sitting there on the couch, coffee mug in hand. He had gotten his blonde hair from her and at one time he'd had her dark blue eyes. Other than that his mother and grandparents had all agreed he looked like his father. Pulling himself back to the present he walked through the living room and into the kitchen where the most vivid memory yet hit him.
He was nine and came home bloody and beaten, clothing ripped and dirt from head to toe. His mother had taken one look at him and silently set him in one of the kitchen chairs. Wesker had been able to tell she was upset with him even through her silence. It was a few minutes before she began to speak as she cleansed his wounds.
"What have I told you about fighting?" His mother had asked.
"That I shouldn't fight and that I would be grounded the next time I did, but Matt called me a bastard because I don't have a father." Wesker's younger self replied.
His mother hadn't said anything at that she just continued to clean his cuts. When she was finished she lifted his head to look directly at her.
"You are not a bastard, your father and I were married long before you were born. He loved you so much when he was alive. Your father use to sing and rock you to sleep every night." His mother's eyes had filled with tears at that point but she continued. "Your father was a good man, and a good police officer and that's why he isn't here anymore."
At that Wesker had flung his arms around her neck and begged her not to cry. He'd promised not to fight anymore. It was a promise he kept until she passed away.
Again Wesker had to pull himself out of his thoughts and focus on the reason he was here.
Turning around Wesker walked back through the living room and took the stairs two at a time. He knew he'd stayed here to long. Wesker had only planned to get the ring and leave not walk down memory lane. Standing in the second floor hallway there where two doors to his right and two to his left. Ignoring the two to his left, one was his room the other a guest room, Wesker passed the first door on his right, which was a bathroom and headed to the door next to it. Entering his mother's room he was instantly drawn to the pictures on her nightstand. One of them was Wesker's father in full dress uniform. David Wesker had light brown hair and gray eyes. His smile was warm and inviting and he was young, being twenty-six in the photo. It was the last picture of his father ever to be taken six months later David Wesker had been killed in the line of duty, trying to stop a bank robbery. Rosalie Wesker had become a widow at twenty-three. Looking at the rest of the pictures Wesker saw one was of him in high school, he wasn't smiling, he never did in photos. His hair was much like it was now just a little longer over the collar and ears, too long to spike on top but still combed straight back. He hadn't started wearing sunglasses all the time yet, that had happened after his mother's death. Wesker was however wearing his signature black, it was a black T-shirt and even though you couldn't see it he was sure he had on black jeans. Looking at the picture that sat next to it, he saw his mother and his father standing in front of this very house. His mother was extremely pregnant and his father was standing behind her his arms wrapped around her, his hands resting on the bulge of her stomach, much like the way Wesker, himself had held Isabel only yesterday. They seemed so happy in the picture no one would have guessed that three short years later it would have all ended.
Taking one last look at the pictures Wesker went over to the closet. Long ago his mother had shown him a hiding spot better than any safe. At the bottom of the closet in the back left hand corner there were three loose floorboards. Lifting them out of place, he was rewarded with the small wooden jewelry box his mother had always used. Wesker knew there was only one peace of jewelry in it but opened it anyway. There lying in the blue silk lined box was the ring he'd traveled so far for. It was sapphire set in gold, the stone was a perfect oval, the top of the band that connected to the setting had an ivy leaf design etched into it. It was a simple, but beautiful. Thinking about placing the ring on Isabel's hand, Wesker allowed himself a small smile.
Closing the lid to the box, Wesker sat it on the floor next to him as he replaced the floorboards. Making sure the closet door was securely shut he left the room shutting the bedroom door behind him. In the silence of the house Wesker stood for a moment thinking about what it would be like to raise his child, no his children here. He could almost hear Isabel in the kitchen making breakfast, their little one running around in the family room. By then Isabel would undoubtedly be pregnant again, maybe for a third time. Shaking his head Wesker cleared such thoughts away. It wasn't a possibility, Isabel was safer were she was, the normal happy family picture was something that couldn't happen. For an instant he thought about not going back, leaving her in the safety of Redfield's care. Wesker couldn't do it, he was far to selfish a man. He wanted to be with her and their child. Wesker wanted her to have his name and when the time was right more of his children. In the end instead of returning the box to it's hiding place, getting into his jeep and driving away from her, Wesker tucked the box more securely under his arm and headed down the stairs. He walked out of the house with out so much as a final glance, locking the door behind him. No one was on the street as Wesker made his way to the jeep, the neighborhood stood quiet. Everyone was either at work or school and Wesker drove away from the house unnoticed.
Half way through his journey home Wesker started to contemplate selling his mother's house, it had served it's purpose. It had kept Isabel's ring safe for twenty years and it almost seemed a shame that it had stood empty all that time. Wesker knew he would never go back, like everything else in his past there was nothing there for him anymore. In the end he decided that selling the house was a decision that he and Isabel would make together, he would talk to her about it. Once Wesker made his decision, he realized that he had begun to think of the farmhouse as home. Not because he'd just spent the last month and a half there, but because that's where Isabel was, awaiting his return.
Rosalie was celebrating her second day of life by sleeping contently in her mother's arms, having just fed. Looking at her daughter Isabel was filled with a joy she thought she'd never know. It was funny how much her life had changed in a few short hours. Now everything she did revolved around Rosalie, Isabel slept when she slept, ate when she could and showered only when someone in the house could watch her daughter for a few moments. Isabel knew she should probably lay Rosalie down in her bassinette and get some sleep herself, but she didn't have the heart to. Instead she continued to rock Rosalie in the chair her father had so meticulously restored for her.
Leon, Claire and Jill sat at the kitchen table talking about baby names, when they heard Wesker's jeep pull up. Not knowing who it was they were immediately alert, but didn't rush to any conclusions, knowing Wesker was due back at anytime. Wesker entered the kitchen a few minutes later jewelry box in hand, looking unusually rumpled. He had two days worth of beard on his face, his hair was slightly more spiky than usual and his shirt looked like it had never met an iron.
"Where's Isabel?" were the first words out of his mouth.
"She's, um, in the nursery." Leon answered nervously.
Wesker didn't give him time to continue and was so focused on seeing Isabel he didn't give a second thought about the way Leon was acting. Turning on his heal, he made his way back to the nursery, taking his sunglasses of in the process.
Opening the door Wesker stood there in stunned disbelief as he took in the sight before him. There Isabel sat in her rocker, holding a tiny infant with blonde hair sticking up all over.
"We had a slight change of plan," Isabel told him giving a slight smile, "Come meet your daughter."
Wesker couldn't move, and could barely breath. A daughter, he had a daughter.
When Albert didn't immediately come over to them, Isabel started to stand, which snapped him out of his daze. Motioning for her to stop and sit back, Wesker placed the box he'd almost forgotten about on top of the nearby dresser and walked over to the two women that silently awaited him.
"How... When did you...?"
"How would be the usual way and as for when I went into labor about an hour after you left. She was born at four thirty P.M. February twenty fourth.
This close Isabel could tell Albert had a slight beard and looked a little less put together than usual, but to her he never looked better.
"Can I...May I hold her?" Wesker asked more nervous than Isabel had ever seen him.
"Of course she is your daughter." Isabel replied handing the sleeping infant to him.
Gingerly Wesker placed one hand under Rosalie's head for support and his other under the rest of her body. He'd never in his life held and infant before and never dreamed he'd be holding his own child.
Standing by Albert's side Isabel intently watched father and child for a few minutes before speaking.
"Rosalie Ann Wesker this is your father, see I told you he'd be back soon."
Rosalie awoke for a few minutes unhappy about being jostled during the move from her mother to her father. Opening her eyes and flailing her arms slightly to show her discontent, she was rewarded by her father bringing her up to his chest, where she immediately nestled in and went back to sleep.
"It seems you got your wish, she has my eyes." Wesker stated looking down at Isabel.
"Yes and your hair and if that display was any indication, your temper as well."
"God help us then." He replied smiling at her.
Isabel chuckled too, she knew with both of them she would have her hands full.
"How are you feeling?" Wesker asked after a moment of silence.
"I'm still a little sore, but I've been on a kind of high for the last few days."
"So am I right now." Wesker replied, instinctively rubbing his daughter's back.
Rosalie was so small part of Wesker was terrified to hold her. He was afraid he might hurt her. Wesker was torn between handing her back to Isabel and continuing to hold her close to him. In that instant he made a silent promise to Rosalie that nothing would ever hurt her.
"Of course you and I are going to talk about your timing." Isabel said after a moment.
"I knew this was coming, how much did you curse me?"
"Oh, with every other breath, but I'm glad you're back now."
"I have something for you." Wesker said reluctantly hand his daughter back to her mother.
Walking over to the dresser, Wesker lifted the lid on the jewelry box and pulled out the ring.
"Lay Rosalie in the crib for a minute I want to do this the right way." He stated, walking towards her.
Isabel nodded her head in compliance, walking over to the crib and gently laying her still sleeping daughter in it. Turning around, she realized that Albert had followed her.
"Will you marry me?" Wesker asked, taking her left hand in his and slipping the ring on the appropriate finger. It fit perfectly as if it had been made for her.
Isabel didn't say a word she just put both her arms around his neck, went up on tiptoe and kissed him. Albert immediately put his arms around her back and pulled her as close as he could to him. It had been months since he'd been able to hold her this close and it felt good to be able to do so now. When the kiss ended he didn't release Isabel, happy to just be near her.
"Your beard scratches." Isabel said looking into his eyes and smiling.
"You didn't answer my question." He replied returning her gaze.
"Yes I will marry you." Isabel answered still looking into his eyes
Once Albert's eyes had frightened Isabel, they had been cold and hard, like the rest of his demeanor. Now all she saw when she looked into them was love and warmth. She knew that he would never be this way with anyone other than herself and their children, but he had learned to accept the others because they were her friends and family and somehow that was enough.
As Wesker looked down at Isabel, he was filled with an emotion he thought would never touch him, love. She had given him her heart, a daughter and a small part of his humanity back. For the first time in twenty years he felt as if he were truly home.
Wesker had been driving a day straight the only time he stopped was to refuel his jeep. He was trying to make this trip as short as possible, pushing himself to get back to Isabel. Pulling onto his old street, instinct seemed to take over, guiding Wesker to his mother's house. It had been twenty years since Wesker had been on this street. After his mother had died and he had been recruited by Umbrella he had never returned. Wesker did have someone come in once a week to clean the house and keep the yard trimmed.
Wesker always thought of himself as being beyond sentimentality, but for some reason he had kept the property. The house was just as Wesker remembered as he pulled into the driveway. Painted a light yellow color, a small concrete porch surrounded by a cast iron fence allowed entrance to the front door. The front yard was small, only running the width of the house and stretching from the sidewalk up to the porch, which was only about five yards. A small walk cut through the yard, connecting the sidewalk to the porch. There were no brightly colored flowers as with the other houses on the street, the only vegetation was the neatly trimmed grass. The driveway Wesker stood on was a little to the left of the house, only wide and long enough for one car, all the houses on the street were built the same way, the driveways putting enough space between the houses so that they weren't right on top of each other. Taking a short cut through the grass, in his minds eye Wesker could see his old bike leaning against the railing, as it had always done. Walking up the cement steps onto the porch, he searched his key chain for the key that would open the front door.
Walking into the house, it too was how Wesker remembered it. The stairs that lead up to the bedrooms stood before him in the entryway. To his right was the family room to his left was the living room and kitchen. Unable to stop himself, Wesker walked to his left. It was like walking back in time. As he walked through the living room Wesker recalled how his mother had used it for special occasions only. When his father's parents would visit, that's where everyone would sit after dinner drinking coffee. Wesker could again, in his minds eye see Rosalie Wesker sitting there on the couch, coffee mug in hand. He had gotten his blonde hair from her and at one time he'd had her dark blue eyes. Other than that his mother and grandparents had all agreed he looked like his father. Pulling himself back to the present he walked through the living room and into the kitchen where the most vivid memory yet hit him.
He was nine and came home bloody and beaten, clothing ripped and dirt from head to toe. His mother had taken one look at him and silently set him in one of the kitchen chairs. Wesker had been able to tell she was upset with him even through her silence. It was a few minutes before she began to speak as she cleansed his wounds.
"What have I told you about fighting?" His mother had asked.
"That I shouldn't fight and that I would be grounded the next time I did, but Matt called me a bastard because I don't have a father." Wesker's younger self replied.
His mother hadn't said anything at that she just continued to clean his cuts. When she was finished she lifted his head to look directly at her.
"You are not a bastard, your father and I were married long before you were born. He loved you so much when he was alive. Your father use to sing and rock you to sleep every night." His mother's eyes had filled with tears at that point but she continued. "Your father was a good man, and a good police officer and that's why he isn't here anymore."
At that Wesker had flung his arms around her neck and begged her not to cry. He'd promised not to fight anymore. It was a promise he kept until she passed away.
Again Wesker had to pull himself out of his thoughts and focus on the reason he was here.
Turning around Wesker walked back through the living room and took the stairs two at a time. He knew he'd stayed here to long. Wesker had only planned to get the ring and leave not walk down memory lane. Standing in the second floor hallway there where two doors to his right and two to his left. Ignoring the two to his left, one was his room the other a guest room, Wesker passed the first door on his right, which was a bathroom and headed to the door next to it. Entering his mother's room he was instantly drawn to the pictures on her nightstand. One of them was Wesker's father in full dress uniform. David Wesker had light brown hair and gray eyes. His smile was warm and inviting and he was young, being twenty-six in the photo. It was the last picture of his father ever to be taken six months later David Wesker had been killed in the line of duty, trying to stop a bank robbery. Rosalie Wesker had become a widow at twenty-three. Looking at the rest of the pictures Wesker saw one was of him in high school, he wasn't smiling, he never did in photos. His hair was much like it was now just a little longer over the collar and ears, too long to spike on top but still combed straight back. He hadn't started wearing sunglasses all the time yet, that had happened after his mother's death. Wesker was however wearing his signature black, it was a black T-shirt and even though you couldn't see it he was sure he had on black jeans. Looking at the picture that sat next to it, he saw his mother and his father standing in front of this very house. His mother was extremely pregnant and his father was standing behind her his arms wrapped around her, his hands resting on the bulge of her stomach, much like the way Wesker, himself had held Isabel only yesterday. They seemed so happy in the picture no one would have guessed that three short years later it would have all ended.
Taking one last look at the pictures Wesker went over to the closet. Long ago his mother had shown him a hiding spot better than any safe. At the bottom of the closet in the back left hand corner there were three loose floorboards. Lifting them out of place, he was rewarded with the small wooden jewelry box his mother had always used. Wesker knew there was only one peace of jewelry in it but opened it anyway. There lying in the blue silk lined box was the ring he'd traveled so far for. It was sapphire set in gold, the stone was a perfect oval, the top of the band that connected to the setting had an ivy leaf design etched into it. It was a simple, but beautiful. Thinking about placing the ring on Isabel's hand, Wesker allowed himself a small smile.
Closing the lid to the box, Wesker sat it on the floor next to him as he replaced the floorboards. Making sure the closet door was securely shut he left the room shutting the bedroom door behind him. In the silence of the house Wesker stood for a moment thinking about what it would be like to raise his child, no his children here. He could almost hear Isabel in the kitchen making breakfast, their little one running around in the family room. By then Isabel would undoubtedly be pregnant again, maybe for a third time. Shaking his head Wesker cleared such thoughts away. It wasn't a possibility, Isabel was safer were she was, the normal happy family picture was something that couldn't happen. For an instant he thought about not going back, leaving her in the safety of Redfield's care. Wesker couldn't do it, he was far to selfish a man. He wanted to be with her and their child. Wesker wanted her to have his name and when the time was right more of his children. In the end instead of returning the box to it's hiding place, getting into his jeep and driving away from her, Wesker tucked the box more securely under his arm and headed down the stairs. He walked out of the house with out so much as a final glance, locking the door behind him. No one was on the street as Wesker made his way to the jeep, the neighborhood stood quiet. Everyone was either at work or school and Wesker drove away from the house unnoticed.
Half way through his journey home Wesker started to contemplate selling his mother's house, it had served it's purpose. It had kept Isabel's ring safe for twenty years and it almost seemed a shame that it had stood empty all that time. Wesker knew he would never go back, like everything else in his past there was nothing there for him anymore. In the end he decided that selling the house was a decision that he and Isabel would make together, he would talk to her about it. Once Wesker made his decision, he realized that he had begun to think of the farmhouse as home. Not because he'd just spent the last month and a half there, but because that's where Isabel was, awaiting his return.
Rosalie was celebrating her second day of life by sleeping contently in her mother's arms, having just fed. Looking at her daughter Isabel was filled with a joy she thought she'd never know. It was funny how much her life had changed in a few short hours. Now everything she did revolved around Rosalie, Isabel slept when she slept, ate when she could and showered only when someone in the house could watch her daughter for a few moments. Isabel knew she should probably lay Rosalie down in her bassinette and get some sleep herself, but she didn't have the heart to. Instead she continued to rock Rosalie in the chair her father had so meticulously restored for her.
Leon, Claire and Jill sat at the kitchen table talking about baby names, when they heard Wesker's jeep pull up. Not knowing who it was they were immediately alert, but didn't rush to any conclusions, knowing Wesker was due back at anytime. Wesker entered the kitchen a few minutes later jewelry box in hand, looking unusually rumpled. He had two days worth of beard on his face, his hair was slightly more spiky than usual and his shirt looked like it had never met an iron.
"Where's Isabel?" were the first words out of his mouth.
"She's, um, in the nursery." Leon answered nervously.
Wesker didn't give him time to continue and was so focused on seeing Isabel he didn't give a second thought about the way Leon was acting. Turning on his heal, he made his way back to the nursery, taking his sunglasses of in the process.
Opening the door Wesker stood there in stunned disbelief as he took in the sight before him. There Isabel sat in her rocker, holding a tiny infant with blonde hair sticking up all over.
"We had a slight change of plan," Isabel told him giving a slight smile, "Come meet your daughter."
Wesker couldn't move, and could barely breath. A daughter, he had a daughter.
When Albert didn't immediately come over to them, Isabel started to stand, which snapped him out of his daze. Motioning for her to stop and sit back, Wesker placed the box he'd almost forgotten about on top of the nearby dresser and walked over to the two women that silently awaited him.
"How... When did you...?"
"How would be the usual way and as for when I went into labor about an hour after you left. She was born at four thirty P.M. February twenty fourth.
This close Isabel could tell Albert had a slight beard and looked a little less put together than usual, but to her he never looked better.
"Can I...May I hold her?" Wesker asked more nervous than Isabel had ever seen him.
"Of course she is your daughter." Isabel replied handing the sleeping infant to him.
Gingerly Wesker placed one hand under Rosalie's head for support and his other under the rest of her body. He'd never in his life held and infant before and never dreamed he'd be holding his own child.
Standing by Albert's side Isabel intently watched father and child for a few minutes before speaking.
"Rosalie Ann Wesker this is your father, see I told you he'd be back soon."
Rosalie awoke for a few minutes unhappy about being jostled during the move from her mother to her father. Opening her eyes and flailing her arms slightly to show her discontent, she was rewarded by her father bringing her up to his chest, where she immediately nestled in and went back to sleep.
"It seems you got your wish, she has my eyes." Wesker stated looking down at Isabel.
"Yes and your hair and if that display was any indication, your temper as well."
"God help us then." He replied smiling at her.
Isabel chuckled too, she knew with both of them she would have her hands full.
"How are you feeling?" Wesker asked after a moment of silence.
"I'm still a little sore, but I've been on a kind of high for the last few days."
"So am I right now." Wesker replied, instinctively rubbing his daughter's back.
Rosalie was so small part of Wesker was terrified to hold her. He was afraid he might hurt her. Wesker was torn between handing her back to Isabel and continuing to hold her close to him. In that instant he made a silent promise to Rosalie that nothing would ever hurt her.
"Of course you and I are going to talk about your timing." Isabel said after a moment.
"I knew this was coming, how much did you curse me?"
"Oh, with every other breath, but I'm glad you're back now."
"I have something for you." Wesker said reluctantly hand his daughter back to her mother.
Walking over to the dresser, Wesker lifted the lid on the jewelry box and pulled out the ring.
"Lay Rosalie in the crib for a minute I want to do this the right way." He stated, walking towards her.
Isabel nodded her head in compliance, walking over to the crib and gently laying her still sleeping daughter in it. Turning around, she realized that Albert had followed her.
"Will you marry me?" Wesker asked, taking her left hand in his and slipping the ring on the appropriate finger. It fit perfectly as if it had been made for her.
Isabel didn't say a word she just put both her arms around his neck, went up on tiptoe and kissed him. Albert immediately put his arms around her back and pulled her as close as he could to him. It had been months since he'd been able to hold her this close and it felt good to be able to do so now. When the kiss ended he didn't release Isabel, happy to just be near her.
"Your beard scratches." Isabel said looking into his eyes and smiling.
"You didn't answer my question." He replied returning her gaze.
"Yes I will marry you." Isabel answered still looking into his eyes
Once Albert's eyes had frightened Isabel, they had been cold and hard, like the rest of his demeanor. Now all she saw when she looked into them was love and warmth. She knew that he would never be this way with anyone other than herself and their children, but he had learned to accept the others because they were her friends and family and somehow that was enough.
As Wesker looked down at Isabel, he was filled with an emotion he thought would never touch him, love. She had given him her heart, a daughter and a small part of his humanity back. For the first time in twenty years he felt as if he were truly home.