Can't Stop Her Tears

Disclaimer: I love Ada. I thought I'd write this so that you might too, because I feel like no one understands her and that's why she is so hated. I kept as close to canon as I could, but Capcom makes no sense so forgive me.

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She remembered the day she discovered red.

It was her birthday. She knew it was because it was the only day that was different from any other. Every other day of the year passed exactly the same; she woke up in her gray bed, put on her gray uniform, and began to read. Around ten, Charlie came in the room with breakfast. Two o'clock was lunch, five o'clock was physical training, and seven o'clock was dinner. At exactly ten every night, the lights would turn out in her room. And she would go to sleep.

A birthday was different though. On this day, her boss would come and evaluate her. A few years ago she had asked Charlie what this man's name was. "He's your boss," Charlie said, with an apologetic smile the only further clue she was given.

This man was quite tall, and always dressed in a black suit. Gray tie. He did not smile at her, walked around her slowly, brow furrowing, asking questions. Charlie was always nervous on birthdays, fiddling with his lab coat buttons nearby or wiping his glasses constantly.

"Miss Ada Wong," the boss would begin. "Tell me, what is a corporation?"

"Corporation. A corporation is a working machine that relies on information in order to survive." Ada was very good at remembering things.

"How can one retrieve information?"

"People have access to information. By learning about people, one can have access to anything."

"Of course." At this point the questions would get much harder. They began with American history, social status, etiquette, and eventually 'femininity', something Ada didn't quite understand. Occasionally she would answer incorrectly, but no matter how the session went, it always ended the same; a new stack of books for the year would be placed in her bookshelves, and her clothes would be replaced with new gray sweats.

On the day she learned what red was, however, things went a little different.

The plain white door opened to Charlie at ten o'clock sharp, as usual. He was a little shaky; her nutrition drink almost tipped over while he was setting it down, and he burned his hand on her oatmeal bowl.

"Charlie, is it my birthday?" Ada had thought it might be soon. She was always losing track of days, but from her window she could tell the sun had been setting later lately.

He smiled at her, but stopped when it wasn't returned. "Yes, ma'am. You can always tell, can't you?"

"You get nervous."

He stuck his burnt finger in his mouth and grimaced. "I know, I do. Kind of clumsy, huh?"

"Yes." Why did Charlie look so taken aback whenever she answered a question?

Coughing, he produced a white box from one of his coat pockets. "Erm, this is sort of a special birthday, Ada. You're turning twelve. So, I would like you to have this."

Charlie did not usually give her presents. Curious, she delicately pulled the lid away. And there it was. A folded swath of dark red. The color was so strong she couldn't stop staring at it. It made her heart pound in her neck. What was this feeling,to be glad to own something this beautiful?

The sound of his laughter startled her. "You can take it out of the box, you know! It's a dress. You can wear it."

She touched the silky smoothness of it and began to unfold it. A white tag on the inside: 90 Polyester and 10 Spandex. What did that mean? She made a note to look it up later. Holding it at arms length, watching it swish slightly, the dress seemed to light up the whole room, a shocking focal point that caught her eye constantly. Just a simple, strapped dress.

Ada stood and took her clothes off, slipping into it. If Charlie was embarrassed, it was an emotion she couldn't understand. A little colder than her shirt and pants, but pleasant. She twirled slightly in place and was confused by her caretaker's continued chuckling.

"Oh Ada, you've never looked so shocked before! I can't believe it." Grinning, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a rectangular object. "Would you like to see yourself?"

She reached out for the mirror, but hesitated to look. There was no mirror in her room, she assumed for a reason. Was it really allowed to look? He only watched her face, but waited for her to act alone. Ada looked at herself clearly, for the first time.

Her hair was not brown like Charlie's, but a very rich black. It struck such a contrast to her face that she looked like a charcoaled illustration. Her eyes were large but dark; her mouth a small line. It was the face of someone curious, but nothing else. Something seemed missing, but she didn't know how to supply it.

The straps of her dress were shockingly red against her pale amber skin, but she thought it looked attractive. Much better than the gray shirt. With her coloring, that would look too "washed out," wouldn't it? Wasn't that in her new style textbook?

A knock on the door caused Charlie to whisk the mirror out of her hands and turn her around to face it. Her boss walked in. She wished he had worn a red tie.

"Miss Ada Wong, you turn twelve today..." he began, but his eyes widened at her new apparel. "And my goodness, you have indeed begun to be a lady!"

She simply looked up at him, inferring that a lady was something positive. Charlie had stepped back, smiling but concerned.

Today her boss held a clipboard. "Charles, I'm loving the results you've gotten. This is a job well done." He began to circle her. "Excellent flexibility, excellent eyesight, and she never cries. Why don't you cry, Ada?"

"What is a reason to cry about?" She was startled by his boisterous laughter.

"And of course her education is perfect. Charles, you will be getting a bonus."

"Thank you, sir." His cheeks were slightly flushed. Almost red.

Now her boss bent close to her face, and he smiled, cheeks crinkling. "Miss Ada, today we begin the second part of your education. You will attend a private school, and continue to take aerobic lessons here at the academy. In addition, we expect you to excel at ranged weaponry. And eventually, we will teach you the most valuable tool of all; sex."

She only cocked her head to one side out of curiosity. His grin broadened.

"I want you to know, Ada, that we have high hopes for you. You came to us without family, without potential, and Charles has molded you most impressively. You're an icicle in a pretty package, dearie, the most emotionless spy we've ever raised here. Why, is there anything you care about at all?"

"May I have more red dresses?"

The harsh sound of laughter echoed throughout her room, her boss's hand on her shoulder for support. Ada wondered if Charlie felt sick; she could think of no other reason why he looked so miserable.

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Next Chapter (if there is one): Now an adult, Ada is sold to a new boss for a handsome price. But what kind of arrangement will Albert Wesker have for her?