Title: Into the Light

Author: Malenkaya

Rating: R for violence and swearing

Summary: (RE movie fanfic, 2nd in trilogy): What began as a mindless effort to survive has developed into a race against time to stop Matt's sudden mutation as Alice, Rain, Michael, Matt and J.D. re-enter the Hive in search of a cure.

Disclaimer: After seeing all those clever disclaimers out there, I wish I had one. Any suggestions? I own nothing here but my own ideas.

Feedback: Please! I live and breathe reviews! Flames, as long as they're explanatory, are fine.

Author's Notes:

Thanks goes out of course to all my fantastic reviewers, particularly for chapter seventeen: masked-in-your-shadows, SangoLancer200, XMaster, Destined to Fight, Tashmal, Estrea, MysticSuper, VaderX and Gabzilla.

Thanks also goes out, par usual, to those who read and don't review—I appreciate it, though I beg you to review at least occasionally as well :)

This chapter is short considering the normal amount of pages I write. It's also the second last chapter—Chapter nineteen, the last, will probably be a lot longer. Also, compared to the last chapter, this one sort of sucks:) A lot less action.

I've had a long, hard week, for the dumbest of reasons. So please review; it makes my day.

Still hate fanfiction (dot) net, for those wondering.

Thanks again, enjoy the fic!

Into the Light

Chapter Eighteen: Dust to Dust

"Oww," Rain hissed quietly, tensing as J.D slid the needle carefully through her skin. "That fucking hurts."

"Big baby," he said, giving a slight snort that refused to mask the affection in his voice. "I bet you didn't whine so much when Alice did this."

"Yeah, well, Alice didn't stick me in the fucking—"

"Oh, shut up, Rain," J.D said carelessly, a small smile of exasperation and amusement crossing over his face as he released the trigger.

Rain could almost feel the anti-virus rushing through her system—whether it was that powerful a dosage, or she was just hallucinating it, she didn't know. "It's not my fault," she insisted, glaring at J.D, ignoring the sharp, tingling pain of the needle. "It hurts more when someone stabs you in the fucking stomach, you know."

"Fastest way through the bloodstream," J.D reminded her. "Alice's idea, not mine."

Rain sighed, wishing he hadn't brought up Alice. The blond was standing fifteen feet away from them, guarding with Michael, and even though her and J.D were talking at a low, though perfectly audible volume, Rain could tell that Alice hadn't taken in a single word.

The girl was shattered, completely fucking broken because of what had happened to Matt, and Rain couldn't stand looking at her right now—it made everything far too real, made all of her thoughts of Matt bubble to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her—

She pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the palms of her hands.

In a way, she hated the anti-virus. Already she was growing more clear-headed, and the fuzziness of the last few hours was slowly evaporating; but she was still way too emotional to deal with it, and it was getting harder and harder to focus on getting out of here.

She bit her lip when J.D slid the needle out of her abdomen, wiping away a slight trickle of blood carefully before pulling her shirt back down and turning to the case.

He paused, putting the needle inside; obviously sensing her inner turmoil, he turned back to her, brushing her hair gently away from her face, and she lifted her chin to look at him.

"Hey," he said quietly, and she appreciated his efforts to keep the conversation private. "You okay?"

She started to nod, and then stopped and shrugged. "Yes. No. I don't—" she stopped, shook her head. "I don't even fucking know anymore."

He squeezed her hand, and she asked pointedly, "Are you?"

"No," he admitted, and hesitated briefly before continuing. "I know you didn't like Olivia, and I know now that you were probably right not to. But I can't—I loved her, Rain. I didn't want everything to end up like this."

Part of her didn't know what to say. She still didn't like Olivia—in fact, she hated her. In the timespan of a week, she'd managed to split up their group, almost kill her, and even held a gun to Michael's head—Michael, who was so fucking innocent, so kind to everyone.

And she'd wrapped it all up by leaving them down there to die.

But J.D's face was pained, and she knew that he'd loved her; she knew that, maybe, Olivia had been okay.

When she wasn't running around stabbing them all in the back, maybe she actually had a good side hidden somewhere.

The funniest thing was that she still didn't know if she believed J.D's story still. That those had been his intentions when he'd left them all down there alone.

But she was too tired to care anymore. He'd come back; that's what mattered.

"You did what you had to do," she said finally, not knowing what else to say. "That's all that matters, J.D. Surviving."

He snorted. "I didn't do a very good job of it," he pointed out darkly. "Matt's gone, probably because of me."

Rain closed her eyes. "Because of Umbrella, J.D, not you."

He shrugged. "I made him believe he wasn't getting out of there," he said flatly. "I left you guys all down there, and that couldn't have helped."

Rain sighed. "I was the one starting fights with him in the first place," she said tiredly. "If it's your fault, then it's mine too."

J.D was silent, and Rain was glad; she knew that things weren't easy for him, but blaming himself wasn't going to do a single goddamn thing to get them out of this mess.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly; her ribs hurt, and she had a sudden flash of fear that she would somehow infect him with her virus when he was so close.

He kissed her on the forehead; and then he was drawing back. "We should go."

She nodded. "Yeah," she said dully. "We should."

xxxxx

Michael felt stuck in a limbo, in a mess of emotion and worry and fear.

In a way, his strength so far had shocked even him. Matt's words had made him realize how much he'd grown since all of this had started—that he was still the rookie in terms of knowledge, ability.

But it terms of strength, he was carrying the team right now; J.D and Rain had never taken a lot of interest in strategy. J.D was good at it, but unsurprisingly, he liked the work better than the planning process.

And Alice was empty, silent, lost. It was heartbreaking, in a way, to work with her; she hadn't said a single thing since her words to J.D. He'd expected her to be angry; Alice wasn't the type to break down and give up, even now.

But she wasn't even here, not really; it was obvious she was paying absolutely no attention to what was going on around her.

He cleared his throat nervously, knowing that Alice probably wouldn't be happy about what he was doing, but knowing as well that he couldn't just stand here anymore, staring down an empty pathway. "Alice?"

A slight pause; and then she turned to look at him, eyes tired as she asked, "What?"

"Are you okay?" he asked, and regretted the words almost as soon as they came flying out of his mouth. It was stupid question, the thought of what was inconceivable even to him. "I mean—"

"I don't want to talk about it, Michael," she said abruptly, turning away from him, and Michael could sense her closing off again as she did so.

He looked down at his feet, but couldn't leave well enough alone. "Well, maybe you should, Alice. We need to get out of here, and if you're still—"

"Michael." He turned to her, watching her blue eyes finally blazing with something other than depression and solitude as she said, "Leave it the fuck alone."

Her last few words were almost inaudible as she whispered, "I'll talk about it when I'm ready. Do you understand?"

He nodded, wanting to break at that point, listening to the tired defeat, to the guilt speaking volumes in her quiet voice. "Yeah."

"Good," she said curtly, and then she was turning away, staring at the corridor ahead of her again, and he was left with that same feeling of helpless emptiness.

And then Rain and J.D were there again, one arm still wrapped around Rain's waist. She was looking better, though; her face had gained back some faint color, and the familiar alertness, directly contrasting Alice's cloudiness, shone in her eyes again.

"You guys ready to go?" J.D said, his voice hoarse.

Michael looked at Alice, but she didn't answer; she only looked back at him, expression unreadable, and he understood finally that she was leaving it up to him; letting him take over, for the time being.

"Yeah," he said finally, feeling defeated and exhausted. "Yeah, let's get going."

xxxxx

James Anderson had never been much of a fighter.

Sure, he'd dreamed of it. What guy hadn't? He'd dreamed of it all the way up to his first training exercise here at Umbrella, where he'd been working towards a S.W.A.T. career.

Unfortunately, his dreams had been prematurely dashed when he'd been discharged, crying despite his best attempts not to, from the force.

His first run-through mission had been a nightmare; he'd had the skills, he'd had the ability, but in the end, he just didn't have the talent, that strange mindset it took to be a S.W.A.T. officer for Umbrella. He'd panicked; he'd freaked out, completely misfired, and killed three of their 'hostages'.

Fake rubber dummies, of course, but Jacobson, his training officer, had only been too ready to remind him that, in a real life situation, he would have currently been facing charges for incorrect procedure in an operation, and, eventually, murder.

So he'd ended up working as a personal secretary to Archangelo. Not the funnest job, maybe, but at least he was good at it.

But sometimes he'd remember those training exercises; or the times he'd gone to the range to watch the last S.W.A.T. team train.

He remembered every one of the people down there: Alice Parks, Rain Ocampo, J.D Salinas.

He even remembered Matt, his team playing the renegade thorn in Umbrella's side ever since they'd started working against the corporation.

They could fight, all of them. And most of the time, they'd been nice people. J.D and Rain had at times treated him like the rookie he was, humiliating him with their practical jokes and insults; but whenever some one else had ever picked on him, they turned the tables faster than he'd thought possible, standing up for him instead.

He'd found it funny, at the time, the way the two were practically attached at the hip; at the way neither of them followed the other so much as they simply shared a mind, were always following something else instead.

Alice had been far more solitary, and an absolute goddess on the ops. Rain and J.D matched her out of pure recklessness, but Alice had some sort of grace, on and off the field, that made her untouchable somehow.

James had never liked Spence; but despite himself, felt bad for what Umbrella had done to him. He'd never known Matt, but he'd watched the man transform, and wanted nothing more than to kill Archangelo, than to kill himself rather than stay with Umbrella.

So he'd sabotaged the train. He'd taken out a simple wire; something that could have been easily fixed, if Archangelo weren't such a technological moron.

Like it or not, it was time for things to change. James had been working for Umbrella for years, despite hating his job, because of the way it paid; because he'd been afraid to leave.

But things were changing now. Archangelo was leaving, and Umbrella was closer to collapse with every single day that passed.

If he was going to leave, now was the time to do it.

And so here he sat, waiting nervously outside the traincar for the ex-S.W.A.T. team to reach it.

For the chance to finally escape this nightmare.

xxxxx

It took them only slightly over an hour to finally reach the entrance Olivia's directions had indicated, a small, almost invisible train station set on the fifth floor.

And when they finally staggered into the blindingly white room, Michael leading the way and J.D, Rain, and Alice straggling behind, J.D's nerves were completely on edge.

It had taken them three different tries to find the right staircase to get here; evidently, Archangelo had thought it would be fun to screw with their heads for awhile.

To top it off, by the time they'd finally reached the fifth floor, the cell phone had gone dead, leaving them in the middle of the Hive with no fucking clue as to where they should go next.

J.D didn't know whether Archangelo had sabotaged the instruction he'd left on the phone, or if the phone had simply finally died on them. Right now, he didn't really give a fuck either way.

And so when they finally stumbled into the station, and saw the kid sitting on the steps at the entrance to the train, J.D's first instinct was to shoot to kill.

Fortunately, Michael's instincts were less extreme; he simply raised his MP-5 to his shoulder and asked, "Who are you?"

The boy looked up, and as he did, J.D realized he wasn't that young after all; probably older than he was. But his features were tired, lined, as if under some horrible strain which had manifested itself on his face.

And something about that face was familiar.

"James Anderson," the guy said, and the pieces clicked together in J.D's head.

"Archangelo's own fucking secretary," he said, and he could feel Rain's sudden recognition next to him as she, too, put the pieces together. If Alice recognized him as well, she gave no signs of doing so, only asking:

"Where's Archangelo?"

James gestured slightly with his shoulder. "Inside."

"While you're out here," Rain spoke next to him, her voice skeptic. "Doing, what—taking in the scenery?"

James just shook his head, still sitting slumped, looking utterly exhausted as he said, "I'm sorry about your friend."

That got Alice's attention; J.D could see her eyes focus sharply as she turned finally to look at him. "What?"

"I didn't know what was going to happen to him," he said quietly.

Alice gave a short sound of disbelief. "How could you not know?" she asked angrily, taking a step closer to him. "It was your own fucking experiment!"

Her words echoed through the station; part of J.D wanted to shush Alice, out of worry Archangelo would hear her. But the other part of him, the one that was just glad she was finally waking up again, stayed silent.

There were tears in James's eyes when he looked up again. "I know. You're right. But part of me—I don't know, I didn't expect that. I didn't think."

His gaze was apprehensive as he looked at Alice; the rest of the group looked at her too, waiting for an angry outburst.

Instead, the blond just shook her head. "You're not worth my fucking time," she muttered, and then, raising her voice, asked, "Where's Archangelo?"

"Inside the train," James answered quickly. "After it—happened, I got to thinking. And I—I sabotaged the train. I can fix it, for you guys—but you have to take me with you."

"No," Alice said instantly, her expression cold as she looked at him. "You can stay here, if you're so goddamn worried about Matt."

J.D ignored her. "Where do you want to go?"

The man shrugged, his gaze pleading. "Anywhere. I don't care. Just as long as it's away from here."

"We're wasting time," Alice said shortly. "I'm going to find Archangelo, and then we're leaving. If my team wants to take you with them, fine. Get ready to go."

She pulled her gun out of it's holster, dragging out another round of ammunition with it, and the rest of them moved automatically as well, pulling out their weapons and readying themselves for the scene that awaited them inside—

And Alice shook her head at them, saying, "No. You guys stay here."

She dropped the rounds into an empty chamber, slammed them inside and flicked off the safety.

"I'll deal with Archangelo."

And she was turning, leaving for the train's open entrance, black jacket flying out behind her—

"Alice?"

She turned back. "What?"

"There's a kid in there," James said quietly. "Lea. She's only four—Archangelo is her father."

J.D turned to Alice, wanting to see what she would say to this sudden complication of matters.

The whole time they'd been here, they'd had an unspoken plan—to take out Archangelo, however long that might take. While sometimes their modus operandi differed, from leaving him down here with his goddamn pets to blowing his brains out all over the fucking wall, they'd never stopped to consider that he might have a family—that he might have a kid.

A daughter, four years old.

A four year old witnessing her father's death.

It wasn't a nice picture.

Finally, Alice spoke, her voice cold. "Good for him."

And then she was gone, striding into the train car, and J.D could only watch, hoping that she wasn't already gone; that when Matt died, Alice hadn't died with him.

xxxxx

Her creaking footsteps must have given her away.

When she reached the entrance to the control room on a train much nicer and more well furnished than the one Umbrella's S.W.A.T. team had been provided with, Archangelo was just sitting there, his back to her, staring blankly at the video monitors.

The little girl—his daughter, some part of Alice's memory reminded her—was sitting on the floor at his feet, staring up at Alice with wide, innocent blue eyes.

Alice wondered what Matt's eyes looked like now.

"I suppose," Archangelo finally spoke, a slight tremor giving away the fear in his arrogant voice, "That there'd be no use in begging for my life right now."

Alice cleared her throat. "Not really," she said bluntly.

He turned finally to face her, and Alice sucked in a quick breath, surprised despite herself at his appearance.

His blond hair was fine, with a slight curl to it; eyes a wide, startling blue.

If he hadn't been a man, it would have been like looking into a mirror.

Pushing away her disconcertion, she said, "You'd better tell your daughter to get out."

"My daughter stays with me," he said stubbornly.

"Not if you want her to see your brains scattered all over the fucking floor," she said coldly, and Archangelo went white.

"Don't swear in front of her," he said sharply, and Alice laughed, not knowing why the thought of him admonishing her for such a thing was suddenly so fucking funny.

He bent down, whispering to the little girl; Alice couldn't hear what was said, and, quite frankly, couldn't care less.

Finally, all was said and done, and the girl was edging past Alice to get out the door.

Looking at her as she passed, Alice wanted to smile; but then she saw the bright blue of her eyes, the shape of her nose, and was only reminded of what she and Matt would never have now.

She left, her slight footsteps padding out into the hallway, and she looked at Archangelo. "You have anything to say?"

He lifted his chin, a touch of the same arrogance there, and asked, "Like what?"

She shrugged. "In less than ten minutes, you're going to be dead," she said coolly. "You must have something to say."

Finally a touch of humanity flickered in his eyes at those words, and he shivered violently. "Look, if you're not going to let me live, at least think about my daughter. She's only four years old, completely innocent—"

"Matt was innocent too!" she shouted before she could censor herself, and she could feel herself losing her grip on her emotions, gun shaking in her unsteady hands. "He was innocent, and you still injected him with your fucking needles and left him to die! How is that any fucking different?"

Archangelo smiled, the expression ugly and malicious on his face as he said calmly, "Addison was an unfortunate accident. Umbrella had nothing to do with it."

"What about Kaplan?" Alice asked viciously. "Or Spence? Were they just 'accidents' as well?"

He shrugged. "Kaplan was nothing to us," he said coldly. "Useless on the field, useless off it. And as for Spence… we needed to take care of the rest of you somehow, didn't we?"

Alice twitched. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I suggest you talk to Mr. Salinas," Archangelo said coolly. "He knows what I'm talking about."

"How would J.D know?" Alice demanded.

Archangelo was silent, and she stepped forward in a few quick steps and hit him across the face with the gun. "Tell me!"

"Alderic told him," he spit at her, an angry red mark on his right cheekbone. "She told him everything. I have nothing else to tell you."

She laughed, an almost hysterical laugh of disbelief. "Oh, I think you do, Archangelo." She tightened her grip on her gun, pointing it at him as she debated the words, debated the meaning in them.

Finally, she asked, "Why Matt?"

Part of her knew that it was a stupid question; that Umbrella hadn't chosen him, only taken advantage of what was already well into effect.

Part of her didn't care.

"Because Addison was worth nothing," Archangelo said coldly, and she could feel the honesty in his words. "We needed the rest of you—you worked with Umbrella, you could have ended up useful to us somehow."

He paused, the corners of his mouth turning up in an ugly smirk as he continued. "But Addison was nothing. A useless renegade guerilla fighter, playing at taking down Umbrella. Matthew Addison was a useless piece of shit, better off dead than alive—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Before she'd even realized that she'd reacted, that she'd screamed the words, Alice had slammed him in the face hard enough to send him spinning off his chair, clutching his face with one hand.

"You're going to die," she promised him savagely. "Do you understand me? You're going to die."

He was laughing, despite the blood seeping out through his fingers, and she realized suddenly that he was taunting her, taking her off her guard; trying to distract her, to make her forget what she was here for.

She forced herself to breath, forced the words he'd just said out of her mind; and when she felt calm enough to speak again, said simply, "Get up."

And her voice was strong, and powerful again, and she could see the difference in him as he did what she'd said, the fear flickering in his eyes again.

"Look at me," she said, and he did.

"I'll ask again," she said coldly, taking comfort in the coldness, not allowing herself to feel anything—not anymore, not after what had just happened. "Do you have anything to say?"

"No," he said defiantly.

She clicked the safety off her gun, leveling it at his forehead.

And suddenly something changed in Archangelo, and he spoke, his face flushing, eyes tearing. "Don't," he begged quietly. "I didn't—please, don't. Think of Lea."

"She deserves a better father than you," she stated shortly. "She's better off without you."

"No," he said, and he was shaking his head, tears starting in earnest now. "No, I'm all she has. Please. If you kill me, she'll have nothing left—no one."

Alice wanted to shoot him, wanted to kill him; wanted to make him pay for what he had done to Matt.

But a part of her froze at the words; at the memory of the beautiful little girl that had tiptoed out of here only minutes ago. At the knowledge that the girl would hear the gunshot; that she would have to see her father, see his blood splattered all over these walls, a vision that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

And then she thought of Lea's blue eyes; of the sky, of the earth.

Of Matt's own blue eyes, perfectly matched in shade.

"You know what, Archangelo," she drawled, her voice cold.

"I don't give a fuck."

She pulled the trigger.

And she could hear the little girl, who at some point had re-entered the room, screaming; she could hear the rest of the team crowding into the room, could feel their shock and apprehension as they looked at what was left of the man who had caused them so much grief.

She knew that, sometime or another, she'd have to deal with this night.

But right now, she couldn't bring herself to care anymore.

It was finally over.