A/N: I don't own anyone but a certain black haired woman…


"I'm sorry I scared you at the hotel." Alex was pushing the eggs around the plate. She wasn't hungry and there were stretches of days her body wouldn't crave any sustenance. Chris had grown accustomed to the bouts of skipped meals and didn't push the matter either.

It had been five days since the incident in the lobby. Neither one had spoken about it since, preferring to channel their energies on locating Chris. Alex had a second bout of her condition two days after that but Piers had been ready. Water and ice followed by an icy bath hastened her rehabilitation. The young marksman had waited outside the bathroom while she soaked in the sub zero dip, relieved with a splash of pride at his responsiveness. Before she had fallen asleep, the tiny grateful expression had not gone unnoticed by his keen sight.

"Don't be," Piers shook his head. "You can't control it."

"But still I should've said something in case what happened happened."

"Alex," Piers sighed. "You're alright now and I knew what to when that second attack happened. You rebounded faster and you weren't in as much pain."

"Thanks," her smile was weak but sincere. "Chris was always good at knowing. He didn't leave my side until it would pass."

Alex shoved the plate to her side, making a face at the runny piles of rubbery yellow. Why did she even go up through the line in the first place knowing in order to eat said food one required an appetite. She resolved to consuming coffee instead, finding the varieties in Europe thicker with flavor and aroma. The imported chain brands were almost all the same to her taste buds: mild with no distinct flavor that separated them from the other cookie cutter brands. The particular brew she savored was blended with hints of cocoa and hazelnut.

"So did they find anything?"

Piers finished the final bits of bacon and biscuit.

"Nothing new I'm afraid. It's like he's a damned ghost!"

"Chris is really good about that. When he was tracking Wesker he had to be invisible. Son of a bitch seemed to know when Chris was on his trail no matter what he did."

"This Wesker…"

"I hope he's burning in Hell."

The fork clattered against the plate as Piers stared, astonished at the depths of hatred that coated her words. Alex felt her body temperature soaring as the dark recollections gathered in the recesses of her mind. Her hands had curled into fists so tight that the well trimmed nails were breaking skin though she didn't notice or care. The narrow strips of tendons protruded from their resting places, aging her hands by twenty years or so.

"He destroyed lives. He didn't care who lived or who died. All that fucking bastard cared about was himself. He used people, collateral damage in his twisted desires. He was a narcissistic, sadistic soulless bastard! Complete global saturation was what he hungered for more than anything! He was poised to infect the world with Uroboros. Chris should've fired two rockets at that mother fucker."

Alex slumped in her seat, taking another sip of coffee before calmly motioning for another pot. The repulsive mannerism gone but hands trembled from the small spike in bitter reflections.

"Alex, I don't know what to say."

"Don't worry about it," she stretched across the table, tucking his hand in hers. "He's dead now. Yet even now his ghost haunts us all: Jill, Claire, Barry, Leon…..myself. All of us have been tainted in some way."

She withdrew, seeking solace in the bitter goodness stemming from her mug.

"I'm gonna head back up to the room for a bit." Alex abruptly announced. "I'm taking it to go."

Piers could only watch as Alex poured the coffee into a to-go cup and left a handsome tip for the kindly server with the pale complexion before taking a hasty exit through the doors.

He didn't see her smearing the tears with the back of her hand.


Alex reached their room, clutching an ornate sack in one hand. The quiet click of the lock was the only announcement of solitude as her back slumped against the door before dragging the rest of her body to the floor. She lightly bumped the back of her head against the heavy oak, finding a silent curse reciting along her tongue.

Burning wells pricked the corners of her eyes, a bitter reminder of what today was.

Her attention went to the bag.

Alex plucked the golden ribbon apart, her senses greeted with a rich ambrosia. Her hand carefully slipped inside curling around the heavy lining and lifting her precious cargo from its hold.

"Happy Birthday to me," her sigh was heavy and melancholy, matching the distress teeming in her veins.

Chris wasn't here to celebrate. Instead he was drunk or worse in god knows where. She wasn't with Jill, Claire, or Barry and it felt alien not having at least one of them around. Birthdays were a big deal to them, a commemoration of another year of victory over the enemy; the start of the next year of battles and blood. Chris had seemed to outdo himself each year; finding a way to surpass the previous one, always enlisting the help of the rest.

Happy Birthday Lexi

Last year it had been the home cooked Italian followed by several hours of passionate intense lovemaking. It had been simple but spoke volumes.

This is just the start of many more to come…..

"I miss you Chris."

Her fingers toyed with the necklace that had been residing beneath her shirt. It caused her wonder if he still had the medallion she gave him in the hospital. Or had it been lost, an unspoken victim of this nightmare.


Piers paced about the lobby, waiting for his phone to ring. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but didn't care either.

His phone finally went off, causing him to nearly drop it in the fountain.

"Hello."

"Piers, it's Claire. I got your message."

"Claire thanks for calling! It's Alex. Something's wrong with her."

"Okay calm down. Tell me what's going on."

"She got really upset when I mentioned Wesker-"

"Okay stop right there. Albert Wesker is a name you don't want to drag up. For her it's stirring up bad memories."

"Yeah I picked up on that."

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't know. But you don't know what today is do you?"

"Uh….oh shit….." It dawned on him.

"It's Alex's birthday. Chris always remembered and planned something special for her. We were all pretty big on birthdays."

"It's today?!"

"Where is she?"

"She went back up to the room. She was really upset."

"Then what are you doing!? Go talk to her. She doesn't need to be alone on her birthday."

"Right," Piers quickly thanked Claire and hung up.

Piers reached the room to find Alex perched on the edge of the couch, holding the uneaten cupcake in her hand. A glassy sheen coated her eyes, adrift in the turbulent ocean of memories.

"Alex," the marksman approached. "Alex…"

"Today's my birthday Piers. This is the first birthday…." Her tone was void of emotion, more on par of reading a eulogy than celebrating the day one came into the world.

"You're not alone." He slowly took a seat beside her.

"Words can be cheap Piers." She snorted then quickly shook her head. "Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so brash."

She presented the oversized confectionery with a tiny smile. "Want some? I bought it on my way up to the room but….."

"Here," he cupped the dessert in his palm and placed it on the coffee table.

"Jill called me earlier. I miss her a lot. You know I still feel bad about thinking she and Chris had something going on behind my back. Now I realize it was my insecurities. I wish I could tell him that. I never did. There's so much I want to tell him now. Why is it when shit like this happens is when the need to tell someone you love everything you ever wanted to divulge rises?"

"It's human nature. We take for granted the fact that the person or people that we know, rely on, and love see or talk to everyday and think nothing bad will come to us. It happens to someone else halfway around the world in the dark cold reaches. It's hubris Alex. We all have it."

"I want to tell him everything when we find him. I want tell the ones I love what I should've told them a long time ago."

Her hand tugged the pendant from beneath her shirt and absently toyed with it. It felt off without Chris there; compounded harder with it being her birthday. Had it been a mission the pain would be tolerable but the not knowing where he was and if he was hurt or worse burned like a white hot blade than impaled her heart.

"I can go if you want to be alone."

"No," Alex dismissed his offer. "No don't go. This is just…."

The mindless twirling of the necklace ceased. Alex scrubbed a hand over her face then rested her forehead in the center.

"I feel so angry at him Piers. I'm so pissed he just up and vanished like that, leaving us to wonder. Jesus what a selfish bastard! I mean how could he do this?! He left Claire, Jill, Barry, you, and everyone else!"

If Chris had been standing there, Alex wasn't sure if she would kiss or belt him.

Her eyes sized the red velvet temptation staring back. Buttercream swirled around in rich ribbons of blue, red, purple, and white. Rainbows showered the surface but it was a hollow promise which led to a superficial release. Piers followed her gaze to the table then lifted his sight back to Alex.

"I know you're trying," she felt the peak of rage subside. "It's not exactly a stellar birthday."

"Well let's change that." Piers placed the pastry back down on the table.

"Piers I-I don't know if-"

"I will not take no for an answer. I'm not saying go out and throw caution to the wind. All I'm asking is for one day."

He could see she was hesitating, uncertain about it.

"Look, I'll have my phone on and it's fully charged. If anything comes up we will know about it."

Alex sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"Alright," she acquiesced.

"Come on," his elbow and arm presented itself to which she slipped her hand down and around his forearm. Piers covered her hand with his, though briefly before retracting it and leading her out into the streets of Londinium.


Unknown Location...

The sleek black cell buzzed and vibrated across the desk; though it wasn't for long as its owner clutched it before the device could vanish over the edge.

"Yes." The tired accented voice greeted.

"She's in London with a BSAA agent: Piers Nivans."

"And what of Redfield?"

"No sign yet. Our contact hasn't reached out yet with any information."

"I suggest your contact work faster and find him before the others do." The voice sharpened into irritation. A hand tapped the teak surface with impatience.

"Sir, with all do respect, Redfield has gone off the grid. The last known sighting was Belfast but that almost 36 hours ago."

"Find Redfield and keep tabs on the BSAA agent."

The connection was silenced.

It was becoming painfully clear that Chris Redfield is making it fairly difficult for anyone to locate him. The again he was one of the founding members of the BSAA and he had years to perfect and solidify his tactics.

No matter, he would eventually be found.

But the question by whom? Would it be his people or the others?

For Redfield's sake it best be his people that find him first.

He twisted the chair around until he was facing the laptop. It was open with files on Neo Umbrella. Between the crisp manilla flaps were various files and photos of this newly emerged organization. The Umbrella Corporation had collapsed thanks to Agent Redfield and Agent Valentine but it was not Death. No, like the Phoenix of myth it had risen from the ashes, spreading its viral wings over the world.

It was no different than what had occurred post collapse of the Soviet Union. Scientists of nuclear biological and chemical expertise suddenly without purpose; or income. With Mother Russia having perished all seemed to be lost. Then one day it all changed. They were needed once again! Their services serving not a country though did it matter? Families would go to sleep with full bellies and warmth to chase away the frigid fingers of winter. Their work would proceed, find conclusion after all this time.

Some whored their minds and souls to state sponsored and independent terrorist organizations but many went to the largest private employer on Earth.

He had been there, once, in his youth. A young fresh faced researcher eager to create his footprint upon the world. He had wanted to make a statement, one that wouldn't fall victim to the sands of time and indifference along with competition. Fate had intervened, delivering promises of reward and notoriety. But that turned into a bitter pill in which he had to swallow.

Still, he assumed a guise of ignorance, carrying out the wishes of his employer: A bitter man who refused to bow to Death so willingly. The best and brightest he had been told, the last one of them. So much faith and hope invested in him but all along he had played him like a fine tuned fiddle.

Desire was blinding.

Sighing, he took a drink of the deep rich wine, feeling it settle on his tongue, taste buds processing the full blend of cherries from the four corners of the globe. All he could do was wait.


Alex leaned against the railing as she looked out over the Thames and towards Parliament and Big Ben. Her sight absorbed the wonders laid out before her; a testament to thousands of years of human progress and development. Where centuries before the queen of the Icini, Boudica, burned the Roman settlement to ashes in a display of warranted hatred towards the invaders; of slums and shanties that incubated plague, famine, and despair. The same city that saw the Blitz of World War II and modern terrorism in the guise of buses being used as weapons against her citizens.

Keep calm and carry on...

That was what Queen Elizabeth II had advised the people of London to do.

But now it was quiet, tranquil as some would like to argue. But Alex knew better. It was a calm. A calm that always loomed before the storm. This storm couldn't be seen with the eyes. It was invisible; gathering around humanity.

"Hey," Piers nudged her side. She blinked and shook her head. "Alex are you alright?"

"Oh yeah," she smiled lightly. "I was just admiring the view. I've never been to London. Well, at least until now."

"Really?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I always wanted to see more of the world but I stayed back. Seeing what the world was truly like created a sense of hesitation inside of me. Chris wanted to take me to Saint Kitts but I had a panic attack that was so severe I had to be medicated and see a shrink. I was seeing...Never mind. I don't want to be the buzzkill for my birthday."

"Alex," Piers took her hand, "You don't have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"No, Piers, you are going above and beyond for me. I want to at least try and enjoy it. Talking about Chris only hinders that. You have your phone and if anything happens we'll know about it. So, whatever you have planned or are devising right now let's hear it."


"This is incredible!"

Alex took a sip of the sweet red wine; some kind of South African blend that hit all the right notes. Across the spacious room Liane Carol was crooning the crowd with a late Christmas jam.

"You didn't have to do this." She gently protested but Piers adamantly shook his head.

"I know I didn't have to but I wanted to."

"Still you didn't have to; but thank you."

Piers leaned back, enjoying the tumbler of bourbon that had been placed before him. It was a local fare, one with a smooth ride across the tongue with a dash of spice that tingled the buds before warming the body from head to toe. He had dropped the BSAA attire for a more casual look. Alex couldn't but help to notice his exceptional ability to clean up. He was not one for trendy preppy based clothing thank god but the solid black shirt accentuated his body even in the dim lighting of the booth they shared.

The phone had remained silent save for a brief message from Leon a few hours before. Nothing to grow excited over but there was a lead they were working on. Piers had been initially hesitant in sharing this with Alex but did only to see her nod in acknowledgment, saying nothing further. Perhaps it was the wine coursing through her veins that subdued her reaction or simply she had silenced any trepidation that would've otherwise surfaced at first notice.

Still, Alex couldn't shake the pang of dolor. A part of her was angered over not continuing the search for Chris and instead sipping wine and listening to music. But what good was it? He had taken off! Left everyone he loved behind. It was selfish.


"So what are you thinking about?"

They exited the club a few hours later and into the gentle cascade of snow. Alex sighed and shook her head.

"I'm ready for a good night's sleep."

She hated lying to Piers but dragging up her true emotions would be taxing for both. A lot was racing through her mind. Her eyes stayed down, watching her boots as they stepped one in front of the other. She shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her coat, the only place to keep them as she would've fidgeted with them in front of Piers. He had enough burdening him; she didn't want to become an additional notch in his post of troubles.

Suddenly, her head snapped up and legs ceased moving.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Piers had taken three steps before realizing she wasn't alongside him. Through the driving snow and lights overhead, he could see the apprehension looming behind blue.

"Something's not right," she whispered ominously. "We need to go now."

She curled a hand around his wrist, surprising the agent with a short burst of strength. His feet lunged forward, kicking up grainy puffs beneath him.

"Alex, wait, what's-"

"There's NO time! We need to leave now!" That shot of strength amplified with each step taken, dragging Piers along the sidewalk and away from the unseen danger.

He didn't protest and stayed in tempo with her pace. Her gait took wider steps, pushing off the snow and patches of ice without issue. Alex just knew one thing: Get herself and Piers out of there and back to the hotel! She couldn't elaborate why but he would have to trust her.

Her jaw clenched, drawing out the cords of tendon across her neck. The scarf she wore conceal this trait, which for Piers was better than knowing how deep her apprehension coursed. Alex felt his arm hook around her waist, as though he too could sense the same presence and hoped to protect her from this unseen foe.

Ten minutes later they were at the front entrance to the hotel.

It wasn't until they were out of the darkness and in the light Alex would permit reprieve.

"Alex, what was that back there?" Piers curled his hands over her shoulders, unable to pick up any shaking from the cold or otherwise. She was strangely calm now that they were standing in the middle of the lobby. She blinked twice before lifting her head up to meet his questioning gaze.

"It was women's intuition."

Her voice was flat, an automated tone that one would hear when they called their credit card company.

"Look just trust me on it okay? Think of it as a biological alarm system."

The subtle smile played with her lips which did little to ease Piers' growing concern. So he just nodded, humoring his companion before they proceeded toward the elevator. As they stepped inside, Piers couldn't but help to look over his shoulder, as though the very thing that they had retreated from was there, observing them; more like stalking them. Once they were inside, he was urgently pressing the button for the floor of their room. The mirrored doors glided silently together, shutting everything else out.

Alex was quiet; leaning against the far side with one leg bent, foot flat on the smooth posh surface. Her hands sat in the oversized pockets of her coat despite the semi-tropical heat pouring from the vent above. The soft binging of the hidden bell was at nine now. One more floor...

One more floor and this birthday would come to a close.

"Hey," she craned her neck towards Piers. "Thanks again for the trip out. It was nice to enjoy a quiet evening."

He felt the blush creeping up on his neck as he spoke. "You're welcome. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," she noticed his inability to look at her. "Come on, I bet there's some wine left in that fridge behind the bar in the room. I'll split it with you."

Piers contemplated this offer but it wouldn't hurt to have a glass or two with her. They both needed it.

"Sure," he offered his arm once again with Alex graciously accepting.


Chris Redfield didn't know his own name.

The former BSAA agent wandered the street of the Czech village, clutching a slender brown bottle with a fourth of the cheap rot gut whiskey swishing around the bottom. The name slipped his mind however it wasn't an immediate concern. The temperature was plummeting and the thick wool coat that served as his shield from the elements couldn't hold up to the biting stings. He need to find a hotel, an inn; shit a hostel would suffice for the night until he reached his next destination. The stubble had grown, growing across once smooth skin like moss along a tree. Again, he didn't care.

The overwhelming guilt and burrowing melancholy drove him further east; away from the artificial daylight of cities like Prague, Berlin, and Paris. It was that same feeling that kept him moving but what was it he was determined to leave behind? Was it something? Was it someone? What or who was the source of this exile? It frustrated him sometimes, to not be able to identify it. Most days he was content not learning of it. The whirlpool within the bottle had exceeded what it was sought for. The sour amber would fan throughout his body, flooding it with faux warmth and stability.

His wandering brought him to a tidy inn on the edge of the picturesque town. The light in the first floor window illuminated his path, calling him out of the deteriorating night. Chris's fingertips numbed, letting his silent companion slip from the unsteady grip. It didn't shatter but created a dull hollow thud against the weathered cobblestones. Chris did not stop or pause, perhaps too drunk to realize the loss.

His gait staggered, turning wider and erratic the closer he approached. The alcohol was waning, depriving him of that deceptive embrace. He crashed on the main door, pressing the flat planes of his back to molded planks and iron. He shivered, drawing the collar of his coat up. It was in vain.

Voices grew from the other side of the door, alerted by the abrupt thud from the front.

Chris didn't hear them. His senses were shutting down from a combination of drunkenness cold. So much so the opening of the door and flood of heat didn't revive him from the induced coma.


SO SO SO Sorry about the late update (Understatement I know!) But I am working on multiple stories at once and writing as ideas come to mind. I know this is more filler but it sets up for events later down the road. HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!