A Star's Descent: Book Two: Star Fall
By evolution-500
Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.
WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language, mature and disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Meeting Wesker
Wesker pushed up his sunglasses with one hand as he cautiously scanned his surroundings, the Samurai Edge ready in his gloved hands.
Everything was not going to plan, much to his frustration. Not only was the entire system compromised, with him completely locked out, but also the mission itself. He had anticipated potential difficulties, but nothing to this extent. If he didn't get any of the systems working again, attaining the data would be next to impossible, which would mean he would be unable to get what he wanted from the Organization.
Turning a corner down a hallway, Wesker froze as he heard the distinctive sound of chains and shrieks from Lisa Trevor echo.
He scoffed.
Even after all these years, she was still searching for her mother. How pitiful.
Tilting his head, Wesker listened for any signs of activity of that other B.O.W. When he was certain that it was clear, he continued on, his hand grasping firmly onto his Samurai Edge.
He had to admit, whatever it was, it was an impressive and formidable creation. One that offered a compelling enough argument that T models were far more effective combatants when fully armored from head to foot. That being said, however, the sheer cost for developing such a thing, the outfitting and upkeep for every single model alone would have made Spencer's head spin.
Of course, that had been the whole point of T-A.L.O.S., which was to determine whether Tyrants were better utilized with combat armor, but the project itself, as far as Wesker was aware, was far from completion. Unless Spencer had some other off-the-books program that Wesker didn't know about, which was probable, it would seem that someone had beaten him and Sergei to the punch already.
A rare, wry smile crawled up his cleanshaven stoic face as he uttered a low, amused chuckle.
If only he could see their expressions.
That was, assuming Spencer had no involvement.
Tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, Wesker pondered his predicament.
Was this all Spencer's doing, if not Sergei's?
Stroking his chin, Wesker clicked his tongue distractedly.
He wouldn't put it past the latter to sabotage Wesker's mission. After all, Sergei harbored deep feelings of resentment toward him.
Not that it mattered to Wesker - he had no time for such trivial things - but, on the other hand, he doubted the Russian would attempt to sabotage the mission if it meant going against Spencer and his orders. Sergei was many things, but in the end, he was a good dog. Always loyal and faithful to the hand that fed him.
Of course, it was possible that Spencer had some grand, multilayered plan in place that mapped out every possible scenario, move and outcome like some elaborate game of chess, and this fit into one of his scenarios somehow. Spencer was a frustrating and obscure man to read, one that deeply irritated Wesker to no small degree.
Standing still, Wesker quietly contemplated the things he had been seeing, his black sunglasses reflecting the fallen zombie that lay by his feet.
On the other hand, perhaps he was reading too much into Spencer's actions. He also doubted that this was the Organization's doing, just because according to his sources within it, while they may have some bioweapon projects of their own in development, they were far from ready.
So who was this unknown third party?
Wesker stood tall, his face a flat mask of perfect calm while his black sunglasses concealed his eyes as he pondered the various possible suspects that he had in mind. Regardless of who it was, what was certain to him, however, were the complications brought on by these new creatures, by this other party.
If he wasn't careful, Wesker reflected, everything may end up falling apart, resulting in complete and utter failure, something that neither the Organization nor Umbrella would tolerate.
Hearing Lisa's cries in another room, Wesker frowned.
Correction, things have fallen into complete disarray - he needed to find a way to get back in control and salvage what he can.
As the zombie by his feet stirred, Wesker raised his foot, then cruelly stomped down, crushing its head beneath his boot.
The medical supply room was quiet as Rebecca restlessly checked her supplies. She tried not thinking about the dream too much - after all, it was only a dream - but some part of her couldn't help thinking about the overwhelming implications of it regardless, which in turn made her question everything that she had seen and heard.
She saw the pink lightning for herself, saw that bird creature disappear into it with Chris.
These creatures came from somewhere, after all.
But...with that being said, however...was the world really going to end?
Feeling uncertain, Rebecca looked over at the others, biting her lip nervously.
Should she tell them?
Part of her knew that she was obligated to inform them, but another part of her, though, couldn't help feeling worried about how this news would affect them. They're still trying to come to terms with this stressful situation, still trying to come to terms with viruses, zombies and monsters, but the possibility of time travel?
Rebecca frowned.
There had to be some other explanation - that's just insanity. What was she going to say, that the Magician told her in a dream that these creatures came from the future?
Then again, with monsters and zombies actually being a thing, it was becoming increasingly harder to tell what was real and what wasn't.
Lifting her eyes to the ceiling, Rebecca tilted her head in thought.
Did the conversation even occur at all? Had it been real?
She frowned.
'It's just a dream, girl. Get over it,' Rebecca told herself.
There was no way for something like that thing to talk to her in her dreams - that's just crazy!
Obviously, the stress of their situation had ended up influencing her dreams somehow, combining bits and pieces from movies that she had watched late at night like "Terminator".
Feeling somewhat satisfied and relieved with the explanation, the medic felt herself relax slightly.
Still, she couldn't help feeling on edge, for the lines between fantasy and reality were becoming increasingly difficult to differentiate.
Part of her wondered if hallucinations were a possible symptom for T-Virus infection.
Regardless of the answer, either way, the situation S.T.A.R.S. was in was bad, which was why they needed to find a way out, preferably as soon as possible.
Tucking a bang absentmindedly behind her ear, Rebecca tried shifting her attention elsewhere, glancing around the room distractedly.
Looking over to Star, she watched the red-clad albino as he flipped a page of his book, his eyes intensely scanning its contents.
"Enjoying your book?" she suddenly spoke up, drawing his attention.
He nodded silently as he glanced back to the page that he was on, his eyes so focused that it almost seemed as if he were trying to memorize every line.
"You seem really into it," Rebecca noted as she shifted in her chair.
"The Divine Comedy has been a long-time favorite of mine," Star admitted as he flipped a page. "Along with music and meditation, reading this also helps me focus and think straight."
"What part are you at?"
"'Through a round aperture I saw appear,'" he read aloud, "'Some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears,
Where we came forth, and once more saw the stars.'"
Star stared at the passage, then nodded thoughtfully. "That is one of my favorite lines in Alighieri's poem." Closing the book, he lifted his violet eyes and tilted his head thoughtfully. "I sometimes like to imagine myself among them when they witness such a thing, that they are my closest friends." He shrugged, "It's silly, I know, but still, to travel so far and overcome so much together, with their companionship and wisdom offering strength and comfort, to finally be able to see their destination within reach after wading through the deepest parts of Hell..."
Rebecca watched as the hooded figure blankly stared into space, before letting out a tired scoff. "Given everything that has happened these past two nights, I can't help wondering what both Dante and Vergil would think when they see things like Umbrella and their monsters."
She shrugged back in response. "Both would probably would think that they were still stuck somewhere in Hell. Maybe another level that hadn't been mapped out yet."
"Hm," he hummed in agreement. Lifting his eyes, the albino suddenly did a double-take, his brows furrowing in thought as he seemed to contemplate something.
"Star?" Rebecca questioned uncertainly.
Looking down at the book in his hand, the albino raised his eyes to meet hers, then, to her surprise, held it out to her.
"Here," he offered. "Take it."
Rebecca blinked in confusion. "Why?"
"Both Dante and Vergil have been really good friends and companions to me throughout the years," Star explained, "and they offered much assurance, especially during times when I felt at my lowest. I think...I think you would benefit from having more friends. I have a feeling they would get along quite well with your grandmother since she is protecting you." He gestured to the choker that she wore.
Taking the book, Rebecca studied the item curiously. On the cover was an illustration of a man in a red cloak holding a book or scroll in one hand, while in the background she saw various tormenting demons surrounding him.
Looking up at the albino, she gave a lopsided smile. "I don't know about that, Star - she makes some pretty awful cookies."
Star let out a slight laugh, then gave an exaggerated gasp.
"For shame!" he tsked in disappointment. "On the other hand, though, it couldn't be any worse than swallowing the air of the Malebolge."
Rebecca's grin grew. "You'd be surprised. She's a lovely woman, but her cooking left a lot to be desired. It's a trait that I have inherited from her, unfortunately."
"What, bad cooking?"
"Yep!" she said, popping her lips playfully on the 'p'.
Star was quiet for a moment, then gave a mock-harrumph. "I'm afraid that might be a deal breaker for me. I'm going to have to seriously reconsider our friendship."
"Would you really?" she giggled.
The albino pretended to think about it.
"...Nah!" he answered, exaggeratedly shrugging. "I guess I'll just have to learn to cope."
Rebecca let out a quiet laugh, smiling genuinely.
"Thank you, Star," she said as she put his book into her backpack.
The albino nodded, then started to gather up his things from off the floor, putting them all back into his suitcases.
As she started to zip up her bag, Rebecca watched as the others stirred, each of them letting groans.
"Ugh! God, my head!" Chris winced.
"Your head? I feel like I was run over by a truck!" Joseph groaned as he reached up and massaged his forehead.
"God, I feel sore all over," Jill muttered as she massaged her leg.
"I'm glad to see you guys awake!" Rebecca greeted warmly as she started to check on them.
Chris sat up. "Any idea how long we were out for?"
She shrugged. "Neither Star nor I know. Our watches aren't working."
"Hm." Looking over to Rebecca, Redfield gave a slight smile and nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, Rebecca."
Rebecca smiled back, giving him a thumbs up.
Joseph pulled his hand away from his head. "Did we get the fucker?"
"You did," she nodded.
Upon hearing that, he whooped, fist-pumping into the air. "Alright! Score Two for S.T.A.R.S.!"
Star raised a brow. "'Score Two'?"
"The big snake," Joseph explained. "Three if we're also counting the Hydra - with any luck, its getting shot in the dick will result in it bleeding out."
"Ah."
"We shouldn't be celebrating just yet, Joseph," Chris warned. "We have no idea how many other creatures are out there, and we're still in the shit along with Captain Wesker and Enrico."
The Alpha shrugged. "True, I guess."
Rebecca watched as Chris looked around, the Alpha pausing. "Where's Richard?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know. Barry is out looking for him." As everyone started to get to their feet, Rebecca gave a worried look as she started to protest, "You guys all need to rest! You still need time to recover!"
Chris frowned.
"I appreciate your concern, Rebecca, but as it is, we have wasted enough time already. Besides, I'll feel better knowing that Richard is alright." He checked his sidearm, "How are we doing in terms of supplies?"
Rebecca shifted in discomfort. "I used up half the medical supplies in treating all of you. In terms of ammunition, I don't have anything."
"Neither do I," Star nodded.
"I ran out of ammo myself," Jill said grimly.
"I have a couple rounds for the shotgun and a magazine for my pistol, but that's it," Joseph confirmed.
Rebecca watched as Chris' frown deepened.
"Damn," he muttered. Sweeping a hand through his hair, exhaled, "Okay, this is what we'll do - we'll quickly search around for supplies and try to salvage whatever we can find that might be useful. Any suggestions in terms of where to start?"
Joseph stroked his chin thoughtfully, "We could always stop off at the bar and pick up some bottles, make a couple of Molotov cocktails?" He shrugged. "Better than nothing, you know."
"Alright," Chris nodded in agreement. "Any other suggestions?"
Star folded his arms. "Perhaps we should pick up from where we left off at the library and see if there are any files, documents, maybe even something like a map?"
The Point Man shook his head. "No, it's too far and too risky. Frankly, we should focus on finding Richard first, plus...given what had happened the last time, I think it's for the best that we try to avoid that place. I don't want a repeat of that."
The albino lowered his eyes. "Touché, I suppose."
Rebecca saw the disappointed look on his face, then spoke up.
"It's not a bad suggestion, Star," she assured, drawing his attention to her. "Maybe afterward we could stop by and double-check. You never know, right? I actually want to check on something in the library myself."
Chris grunted in acknowledgment. "One step at a time. If we find the time and opportunity to go back, we can try, but no promises." Rolling his shoulders with an audible pop, he then gestured to the door. "Alright, guys, let's see what we can find. Remember, stay close."
Stepping outside of the medical storage room, Chris glanced around, looking and listening intently for any sign of hostiles. Glancing up the stairs, he waited a beat, then two. Pulling away, he then edged his way along the wall, then peaked around the corner.
Wiping his sweaty face, he waited, his form tense as he heard footsteps. From the other end of the hall, he saw Barry round a corner, causing him to relax.
"All clear, guys," Chris nodded to his companions, stepping out to greet Barry as he approached. "Barry! God, you're a sight for sore eyes!"
Clapping their hands together, the two exchanged a quick hug, then pulled away.
"Good to see you too, Chris," the big man smiled. "How are you feeling?"
Chris shrugged. "Alright, I guess. A bit sore, but nothing I can't handle."
Barry scoffed. "You always were the stubborn one." He gave a quick wave to the others. "Hey guys!"
Jill smiled. "Hi Barry."
"Good to see you back with us, Papa Bear," Joseph greeted. "Where's Richard at?"
Barry frowned. "Dunno. I still haven't found him."
Rebecca shifted uncomfortably. "I hope he's alright."
"We'll find him, Rebecca," Chris assured. "You can count on it."
As the medic nodded silently, he turned to face Barry, "Wanna come with us? We're short on supplies and ammunition, and we could use all the help that we can get."
He watched the big man as he silently stood still. For a moment, Chris couldn't help sensing some inner turmoil.
"Barry?"
Stirring from his thoughts, the Weapons Specialist gave a nonchalant shrug and smile. "Sure. Why not?"
Exchanging quizzical looks with Jill, Chris turned back to his friend. "Everything okay, Barry?"
Barry waved. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just getting old, that's all."
Joseph smirked. "Don't get all senile on us now, Barry. You still owe me a rematch."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh please, don't make me laugh - I won fair and square. As I recall, Joseph, you still owe me twenty bucks from the last arm-wrestling match we had."
Frost scoffed. "Ten bucks, actually," he corrected. "Seems like you really are getting senile on us, old man."
Barry raised a brow. "You seriously skimping out on me, small-fry? I can kick your ass, you know."
"Yeah...but would you remember afterward?" Joseph grinned back.*
Letting out a hearty laugh, Barry reached up and ruffled Joseph's bandanna-clad head.
"Smart-ass." Raising his Colt Anaconda, the former then gestured for them all to follow. "I'll take point. This way."
As the group stepped into the corridor leading to the tea room once more, Chris suddenly paused as he sniffed the air.
"What is...Aw!" He grimaced, waving his hand in the air. "Aw God!"
"Oh gross!" Jill coughed as she covered her nose with her shirt.
"Jesus!" Joseph winced as he reached up and plugged his nostrils. "THAT'S one hell of a smell! What is that?!"
Chris watched as Barry gave a sheepish grin, the big man scratching the back of his head.
"Uh, well," he said slowly, "it was just, uh...one of those things when...nature...calls..."
As the Weapons Specialist trailed off, Chris noticed him shift in discomfort as he adjusted the collar of his shirt.
Jill scowled. "Barry!"
"Well I'm sorry, but it was an emergency, okay?! Don't judge me!"
"Jesus, Barry," Joseph said as he shook his head in disbelief. "Tell me that you didn't do it on the floor."
"NO!" Barry retorted. "It was in some potted plants! It's not our fault that we couldn't find a bathroom anywhere-"
"Wait a minute, "we"?" Jill perked up, interrupting him. "Who's "we"?"
Chris watched as Barry's eyes widened in alarm, then noticed the albino stiffening with suitcases in hand, his features darkening.
Turning their attention over to the red-coated giant, all eyes were on him as he stood completely still.
Looking up at him, Joseph raised a brow. "So...potted plants, huh?"
The hooded figure huffed in embarrassment, averting his eyes.
Hearing a snort, Chris turned to the source and was surprised to see Rebecca as she let out a laugh.
Exchanging questioning looks with the others, he looked back to her in concern.
"Uhhh, rookie? You okay?" Chris asked in an uncertain voice.
The medic shook her head with a smile. "It really is a shitty night, isn't it?" she giggled, her laugh growing.
Blinking, Chris let out a laugh, followed by Jill and Joseph, then Barry.
The only one that didn't join in their laughter was Star as he looked indignantly away, although a small, amused smile crept up one side of his face, though he tried (unsuccessfully) to force it down.
Everything about their situation was absolutely ridiculous, yet absolutely terrifying. None of it made a lick of sense to anyone. In spite of that, however, even though everyone was frightened, it felt good to be able to laugh at the absurdity of it all while they were still alive.
After all, only the living could enjoy a good laugh.
Once they recovered, Chris sighed. "God, I needed that!"
"Same here," Jill nodded in agreement as she took in a deep breath.
"I tell ya, when we all get out of here, first thing I'm gonna do is head to the nearest bar, get the biggest glass of Scotch and drink until all this shit is wiped clean from my head, including the smell," Joseph declared, before adding, "Drinks will be on Barry."
Barry scoffed. "Bullshit!"
"First thing I'm doing when we get out of here is find a hotel room with a comfy bed and just sleep and never wake up," Star yawned, his sharp-toothed maw stretching. "I am so very tired."
Rebecca rubbed her eyes. "You and me both, Star."
"I know, guys," Chris nodded sympathetically. "Let's try to stay awake as much as we can and get through this night. The faster we find everyone, the faster we can get out of this damn place."
The survivors murmured in tired agreement, then resumed in their search.
Chris stood in the middle of the bar, staring at the devastation that greeted him and the other survivors.
The entire bar had been turned inside out, with chairs and tables tossed aside, a lot of them wrecked beyond repair. In the hidden passage, Chris saw a gaping, giant hole where the window used to be, revealing the splattered remains of whatever had been unfortunate enough to have encountered the titan.
"This isn't good," Joseph commented.
"Tell me about it," Jill replied.
Chris frowned. "Let's keep searching," he suggested. "There has to be something around here we can use."
As the survivors took a few tentative steps into the bar and collected what they could - some bottles of booze, towels, napkins, forks, knives, etc - they all looked up with a jolt as the distinctive, whale-like moans of the giant echoed from some distant location in the west wing.
"...Hear that?" Chris asked.
"Everyone did, Chris," Frost muttered quietly back. "Let's get the fuck out of here and look somewhere else, I don't feel like fighting that thing again."
"Agreed," Jill nodded.
Turning around, the survivors exited one by one from the bar, leaving Chris alone with Barry as the latter gave one last thoughtful glance around.
"Shame that it's it turned out this way. It looks like it could have been a fun place to be in," the latter commented, then paused, pointing over to the jukebox. "At least the jukebox hasn't been damaged."
Redfield gave an amused scoff, shaking his head.
"You really need to check your priorities, Barry." He then clapped the big man on the shoulder. "Come on, buddy. Let's get out of here before that thing comes back."
Curien silently watched from the catwalk above as Twenty-Six carefully checked the EKG readings and jotted down the results on a clipboard in his gloved hands, observing the various nude human bodies of the scientist's vessels as they all mindlessly walked forward on treadmills. Attached to each body were a series of plugs and needles, each individual fitted with an IV unit.
Focusing on the surgically-implanted microchips that were stored within the temporal lobe, Curien's eyes lit up as he felt his consciousness drift into the first vessel, a perfect replica of his original body in every detail, though younger and more masculine.
Testing the joints in his hands and fingers as he walked the treadmill, Curien felt the damp cool air on his bare skin as he tested his facial muscles, getting used to the the feel of this body. He took in everything - the sights, the smells, tastes and sounds, relishing the experience of being human again.
Satisfied, Curien moved onto the next body, a more elderly model, then repeated the process again before moving onto a third vessel, a female form with dark hair.
Once he took note of all their conditions, the scientist allowed his consciousness to drift back into his "main" body, letting his eyes wander as he studied the features of each individual vessel as they all blankly stared ahead and walked without complaint, all of them moving on in synchronized fashion.
Curien stared with hawk-like intensity as he kept careful watch on them all, looking for the slightest signs of a possible fault, be it a biological hiccup or a glitch in the microchips.
Contrary to popular depictions within the science fiction genre, where cloned bodies were just vat-grown slabs fully capable of everything upon production, the truth of the matter, unfortunately, couldn't be any further from the truth; in fact, it was far less glamorous and idyllic in real life. It was an infinitely more painstaking and complicated process. Once a body was in fit enough condition, it required constant monitoring, feeding, cleaning, and exercise, especially in its early days, when it was potentially susceptible to disease.
Every body had to be kept under constant watch and tested continuously, including the implanted microchips in their brains.
As he observed the bodies on the treadmills, one of the vessels, Unit 89-A, a bald, obese male cadaver, defecated as he walked, letting out a loud trumpet-like fart as greenish-brown fluid spilled onto the ramp from its irritable bowels. The body paid no mind as it continued to walk the dirtied ramp, his pale feet stepping into the slimy mess.
Growling in disapproval, Curien made a face.
"Remove Unit 89-A from the treadmill immediately," he ordered his servant. "I want the ramp cleaned and this vessel disposed of as soon as possible."
"Yes, my lord," Twenty-Six nodded curtly.
As the red-clad masked giant approached the aforementioned vessel, Curien watched as he slowly drew out a katana that he had strapped to his back. Thrusting the blade straight through Unit 89-A's chest from behind, Curien heard the vehicle body let out a sharp gasp and gurgle as it sucked in its last breath before collapsing down in a heap, rolling indelicately off the treadmill.
Pulling his sword out from the cadaver, Twenty-Six slid the sword back into its sheath, then started to haul the body away.
What a waste.
Curien had meant to get rid of Unit 89-A for quite sometime due to the number of issues he had been having with that particular vessel; not only was the blood pressure too high, but it was also displaying signs of gout along with a number of behavioral abnormalities. He tried finding remedies for it, of course, but one can only treat an ailing body for so long.
He knew what his priorities were; it was the fate of the human race that was at stake, not a mindless drone vehicle.
As Twenty-Six returned with a roll of paper towels, some garbage bags and cleaning supplies, Curien looked back to the other cadavers as they all walked the treadmill, the servant cleaning up the mess on his hands and knees.
Every vehicle body had its own distinctive features, their own distinctive strengths and weaknesses, each possessing their own distinct "feel" whenever he wore them, with some requiring far more maintenance than others.
All the vessel bodies varied in appearance in terms of race, age, sex and size - from the elderly and frail to the obese and/or muscular.
From the young and child-like to adolescent, from the bald to the fair-headed.
From a young man, to an old woman.
From white Caucasian to Black, from Asian to Hispanic.
From male, to female.
Whatever body he were in need of, Curien had one available for use at any given opportunity.
The only downside in occupying a vessel body - at least, for Curien himself - was that the experience was far too brief for his liking.
As Twenty-Six vigorously scrubbed and sprayed everything clean, the scientist turned away, drawing up holographic windows as they shimmered in the air, each screen showing different parts of the Spencer Estate.
"Where are you hiding?" Curien growled, his mechanical voice reverberating across the dark cavern.
Standing in the dining hall, the survivors quietly worked as they all made molotov cocktails, stuffing rags into bottles.
"That should be the last one," Jill said as she wiped her brow.
Barry shook his head. "We're gonna need more than nine molotovs and a whole bunch of knives and forks."
Chris frowned. "We're doing what we can, Barry, but there's not much to go on."
"I know," the Weapons Specialist shrugged nonchalantly. "I was just saying, that's all."
Raising her radio, Jill tested it a couple of times, an annoyed look etched on her features.
"God, is it too much for Irons to provide us with a working radio?" she scowled.
"I am sooooo tempted to give Irons a good kick in his fat ass when we get back," Joseph remarked.
Chris scoffed, "A kick? I wanna punch the guy out, to be honest." He checked his watch, frowning as he found it unresponsive. Tapping at the crystal, he gave an annoyed look before turning away. "We should find Richard - if anyone can get these junky pieces of shit fixed, it would be him."
As he looked around, Chris suddenly paused. "...Where's Wolf?"
Blinking in surprise, the group looked amongst themselves, then around the room.
"He was with us not too long ago," Rebecca said.
Joseph groaned. "Don't tell me he got lost!"
She frowned, heading out the door. "I'll get him. I'll be back in a sec."
Star glanced around the various hallways with suitcases in hand, completely lost.
Where had everyone gone?
He had stopped to adjust his sock, which had ended up shifting around in his boot.
Clutching the handles of his suitcases, the albino wandered around, looping down one corridor, then another when he heard gunfire.
Curious, he turned around a corner, then, upon seeing the source, suddenly flew back into hiding, his pulse rising as he stood stiff as a board, his back pressed straight up against the wall.
What were the odds?! What were the bloody odds that he would be down there?!
Star knew that they were bound to meet sooner or later, but he was far from ready; he would rather it be another zombie or monster, not him.
Not now.
"Star?"
Startled, Star whipped to his left to see Rebecca as she appeared from a nearby hallway, approaching him.
"What's going on? Why are you-"
Rebecca was cut off as the gunshot echoed from around the corner. Star watched as Rebecca curiously peeked, the girl letting out a slight gasp.
"Captain-!"
Covering her mouth with his gloved hand, Star pulled her away, shushing her.
"Who's there?" He heard Wesker call out, making the albino wince.
Removing the gauntleted hand from her mouth, Rebecca glared up at Star.
"For God's sakes, Star, get a hold of yourself!" she scolded quietly.
"I can't meet him!" Star shook his head vigorously, "Not like this! I'm not ready! I need more time!"
"Star, relax, alright? Everything will be fine. You'll see. You're just overreacting."
"I said who's there?" he heard Wesker call out, drawing both of their attention.
Exchanging looks with one another, Rebecca watched as the albino stiffened against the wall, looking as if he were trying to merge with it. Softening her gaze, she placed her hand on his upper arm.
"It will be fine, Star," she whispered quietly. "Really. You don't have to be scared. Just trust me on this. Please."
Lowering his eyes, the albino gave a conceding nod, then gestured with his eyes to go meet her Captain.
"Identify yourself."
Checking herself over, Rebecca cleared her throat, then took a deep breath, exhaling softly before turning around the corner.
"It's me, Captain!" She called.
Further down the dimly lit hallway, the medic saw the distinctive dark form of Captain Wesker as he stood with his weapon drawn, his black sunglasses concealing his eyes. Upon seeing her, there came a slight, hesitant pause.
"...Rebecca?" Wesker said slowly.
Feeling her heart race, Rebecca smiled as she moved closer toward him.
Finally, a chance to meet with her darling!
"H-Hi Captain!" she greeted nervously, a slight blush on her face.
"Rebecca..." She watched as Wesker's form relaxed, the weapon in his hand lowering as he stepped forward, moving toward her. "It's good to see you."
He suddenly froze, eying the bandage wrapped around Rebecca's forehead, a flicker of concern registering on his features. "You're injured."
The girl shifted nervously, folding her arms behind her back. "Y-Yeah. I, uh, got this from a train crash yesterday night."
Upon hearing that, Wesker perked up, raising a curious brow. "A train crash, you say?"
"Y-Yeah. It's not- it's not as bad as it looks, though. It's been treated."
"May I see?"
Feeling her cheeks warm up, Rebecca nodded, giving her consent.
As Wesker stepped closer, the medic drew in breath through her nostrils, relishing the wonderful scent of his cologne and aftershave along with his touch as he gently lifted up the bandage from her forehead. As his gloved hands made contact with her skin, Rebecca felt her heart beat faster, her blush growing as the S.T.A.R.S. Captain carefully examined her, his sunglasses reflecting her image, not seeming to notice the blush.
Nodding in satisfaction, he then gently placed the bandage back down.
"I don't detect anything broken," he assured. "Some tenderness, but I think you will be fine, although I recommend you get yourself checked out once we get back just in case. Do you have any other injuries?"
She shook her head. "N-No. Just some bruises here and there, but nothing major. Nothing is broken."
"Good. That is good to hear." Rebecca felt a tinge of disappointment as Wesker pulled away, watching his lips curl just ever so slightly upward at the corner of his mouth, a faint ghost of a smile on his stoic face.
From around the corner, Star watched the two S.T.A.R.S. members as they interacted with each other, observing Wesker as he talked with Rebecca.
For a moment, the albino felt a tinge of jealousy stir within him as he noticed how much livelier she was in the S.T.A.R.S. Captain's presence.
But even more curious, he noticed, was Wesker's reaction to her; when Star first saw him, the man was cool and reserved. The stoicism remained intact, but Star couldn't help detecting a kind of warmth in the way he regarded Rebecca.
Is this a sign that he is romantically interested in her?
Star kept watching the exchange, a frown forming on his scarred features.
It didn't seem romantic; at least, as far as he could tell, even if he was woefully inexperienced in the subject.
If anything, the exchanges were just friendly.
And yet...there was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that he couldn't help sensing about the way Wesker interacted with her, in the way he looked at her.
Star couldn't quite understand what about it made him inclined to think such a thing, but the interaction almost seemed...paternalistic.
'Perhaps that's just how he naturally is,' the albino reasoned.
Someone whose tough persona hid the heart of a man who tenderly cared for all of those under him.
As Star watched the two S.T.A.R.S. members from behind the corner, a tiny part of him dared to hope.
Wesker stared at the tiny girl in green, adjusting his glasses.
He shook his head, his mouth curled slightly downward in a frown. "It was foolish what you did, Rebecca. Even downright irresponsible and dangerous."
He watched as the girl gave a startled and confused look. "What-?"
As she tried to respond, Wesker raised a hand, silencing her completely as he gave her a steady but hard, disapproving stare.
"I expected more from you, Rebecca," he scolded. "What were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed!"
Rebecca opened her mouth, then paused, looking gloomily to the floor.
"I...I'm sorry, Captain," she said quietly.
At the sight of her downcast green eyes, Wesker allowed himself to soften his stance, the older police officer sighing.
"Don't be." He then cleared his throat in discomfort. "Now, with that said...I..." He cleared his throat again, feeling uncomfortable as he continued to speak, "I...appreciate...what you have done for me, Rebecca. Thank you."
"Huh?" Rebecca blinked again as she raised her eyes back up, looking incredibly perplexed. "I...I don't know why you're thanking me, Captain. I don't know what I did, but...well...I'll try to do better at my job, sir."
"Hm." The S.T.A.R.S. Captain's eyes remained locked on her, his form silent. Pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, he glanced around in both directions of the hallway. "Where are the others?"
Rebecca brushed back some hair behind her ear. "They're all currently gathered in the dining room. Richard is missing along with Enrico- I mean, Captain Marini."
"And Barry?"
"Barry is with them, too." Her eyes drooped. "Forest, Kevin, Kenneth and Edward..." She shook her head in a slow, despondent manner, "They...they didn't make it."
Wesker said nothing, his sunglasses reflecting back the girl's sad eyes.
Raising a hand, he gently placed it onto her shoulder, giving a slight squeeze of assurance. "I'm sure you have done the best that you could."
Rebecca winced at Wesker's words.
Even though he seemed to be trying to comfort her, with his flat baritone voice and stoic expression, she couldn't help feeling as if he were judging her. As if she had failed him.
And...that hurt.
Looking down to the floor again, Rebecca averted her eyes as her feelings of insecurity and inadequacy bubbled to the surface, the girl wanting nothing more than to crawl in the nearest and deepest hole and never come out, too ashamed to look her Captain in the eye.
Wesker watched the girl as she stared to the floor with a guilty expression, holding one arm.
Reaching up with a gloved hand to touch her face, he heard a creak somewhere close, causing him to withdraw his hand and whip around in the direction where he heard the sound, catching a fleeting glimpse of something red as it disappeared around the corner.
Wesker narrowed his eyes, his hand clenched around the Samurai Edge weapon that he held. "What was that?"
Rebecca raised her hands in a placating gesture. "It's okay, Captain!" she assured. "He's just a friend."
"He?" he repeated. "Who is "he"? What "friend"?"
"There is someone that really wants to meet you. He has come a long way." Looking down the hallway, Rebecca called out in a raised voice, "Star? You can come out now!"
Wesker waited for a response. The hallway was quiet.
Blinking, Rebecca called out again. "Star? Star? Star, can you hear me?"
Again, no answer.
Frowning, Rebecca looked back to Wesker. "Uhh... sorry! Can you, uh, can you excuse me for a moment?"
Giving a nod, the S.T.A.R.S. Captain watched as she walked down the hallway and disappeared around the corner.
Rebecca's frown grew as she found Star flat up against the wall, his violet eyes bulging wide open in terror.
"Star, what the hell is the matter with you?" she said impatiently.
"I'm not ready for this!" He hissed back in a quiet whisper.
The medic crossed her arms. "Star, you are embarrassing me. Get out there and say hello. Right. Now."
Star shook his head in refusal.
Rebecca glared. "Star, on the count of three, if you don't go out there, I will push you out, at which point you'll end up looking even more like a fool in front of him. Don't make me do this."
The albino remained still and silent.
Letting out an annoyed huff, Rebecca tucked some loose hair behind her ear.
"One."
The albino refused to move. Tapping her foot on the floor, Rebecca placed her hands on her hips.
"Two."
Giving an annoyed growl, the albino indignantly grunted.
"Fine," he said in a hushed voice.
Drawing down his red hood, Star slid his gauntleted clawed fingers through his silver hair in an attempt to slick it back, if not straighten it, then reached into his coat and took out his glasses case. Opening it up, the albino youth gave a miserable look upon the state of his sunglasses. One part of the lens was cracked.
"Great," he muttered.
Closing his eyes, Star placed the sunglasses on and inhaled deeply, letting out a nervous, shaky breath as he turned to face her.
"How-How do I look?" he asked in a nervous and quiet voice.
Rebecca smiled, then offered a thumbs up to him, then gestured to the suitcases. "Just leave those here with me. You'll get them back after. Now go."
He nodded gratefully. "Okay." Star swept a gloved hand through his silver hair again. "I don't even know what to say to him, let alone how to even begin."
"Just say 'hi'," she replied. "Believe me, Star, you got this! It will be fine!"
As he took another breath, Rebecca watched the albino lean his head back against the wall, taking deep, slow breaths.
Finally, he pulled away from the wall, setting the suitcases down beside her before straightening his posture as he approached the wall's edge.
"Well...here goes nothing," she heard him utter quietly.
Rebecca gave him another thumbs up. "Good luck, Star!"
Tentatively inching his way to the corner, Star took one, decisive step forward, out into the hallway, exposing himself at last to the man he believed to be his father.
As Star entered his Wesker's field of vision, he noticed the man give pause from the other end of the hall, his concealed eyes watching his every move.
He didn't seem afraid, much to the albino's delight...and yet...he couldn't help sensing a tenseness in the S.T.A.R.S. Captain's form. He seemed guarded, like an animal ready to spring into action, ready to fight if necessary.
Perhaps even to the death.
Swallowing anxiously, Star took a cautious though assured stride toward him, doing what he can to project the same confidence and strength he had detected earlier from the man while also trying not to spook him.
Giving a small smile, he cleared his throat. "...Hi!"
Wesker said nothing, his face difficult to read.
"It's-It's a-a pleasure meeting you, Captain!" Star greeted lightly as he moved closer, taking in more of Wesker's appearance. "I'm-"
At the sight of the sunglasses, something within the albino stirred, his giant figure stumbling into the side wall as he collapsed against it.
"STAR!" he heard Rebecca cry.
Using the wall for support, Star felt his eyes roll back as he felt a sharp pain in his head.
He was in an office with James and Amy, the latter standing beside a tall Caucasian man with dark hair dressed entirely in a black suit, his eyes hidden by a pair of black sunglasses.
"So, you must be the new rookie. Amy has told me a lot about you," the black-suited man said, his features flat and expressionless as he then shook hands with him. "I'm Harry Harris, Amy's partner. Welcome to the Agency. I look forward to seeing what you can do in the field."
"Star, are you okay?"
Raising a hand, Star shook his head.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" The albino waved as he regained his balance, pushing himself off the wall, causing Rebecca to back off.
Adjusting his coat, Star felt his scarred cheeks become flushed with embarrassment as he straightened himself, clearing his throat before taking two more steps forward, stopping right in front of Wesker.
"My apologies for that...less than glamorous display, Captain. Also apologies for my uncouth state and manner of dress, I had an encounter with one of those creatures earlier," he nodded deferentially before clearing his throat again, standing straight as an arrow as he offered a small, closed-mouth smile along with his gauntleted hand in greeting. "My name is Star. It's really nice to meet you, sir."
Star watched as Wesker glanced down at the offered limb, his features betraying no emotion.
As the two of them stood there before one another, the albino felt seconds turn to minutes as he struggled to keep his smile from wavering.
Raising his concealed eyes back to his, Wesker then did something that caught the red-draped figure completely by surprise as he took hold of his offered hand.
'I...I can't believe it! I can...I can feel Father's touch! I can actually feel his hand!' Star marveled.
Before he could utter out a single cry of exultation at this discovery, the albino gave pause.
'No,' he began to realize; it wasn't so much that he somehow miraculously regained all feeling in his hand, as part of him had naively hoped for.
Rather, the S.T.A.R.S. Captain was squeezing his hand.
Hard.
Really hard, as a matter of fact.
So much that it was actually starting to kind of hurt.
To Star, Wesker's handshake seemed less like a kindly greeting, and more like an act of domination. It was an aggressive handshake, tough and vice-like, even painful.
'Is this how one is supposed to shake hands?' the albino wondered.
Star had shaken hands before, but due to the nerves in his hands being damaged, he was never able to feel anything. Part of him always worried about hurting others, so he always tried to keep his grip somewhat loose, relying on his vision to determine how much strength to apply to his grip.
Perhaps he should put a little more into the handshake.
Giving a slight squeeze, Star heard the leather of his gauntlet strain as he tightened his grip, watching Wesker's reaction as he tried to meet his handshake with his.
Looking down at the gauntleted hand, part of Wesker's face twitched ever just so slightly in discomfort.
"Strong grip," Wesker commented before abruptly pulling his hand way from Star's, the police officer gently massaging his limb, causing Star to wince in regret. Looking up at the albino, Wesker folded his arms behind his back. "So, your name is "Star", you say?"
Star nodded. "Yes, Captain."
"First or last?"
"First."
"Do you have any identification with you?"
Taking out his wallet from his coat, Star handed it to him, watching the police officer as he studied its contents.
"I also have a letter of introduction addressed to a "Chief Irons"," Star spoke, drawing Wesker's attention as he reached into his pocket, the albino freezing. Blinking, Star then felt around his coat, searching his pockets as the S.T.A.R.S. Captain looked expectantly at him.
Frowning, the albino tucked some silver hair behind his long, pointed ears.
"Uhhh...I...ummm..." He bit his lower lip nervously, "I seem to have misplaced it."
"Hm." The youth watched as Wesker looked back to his wallet. "Your identification lists you as "Jack Wolf"."
"An adopted name," Star replied. "My real name, though, is Star. That was the only name I remember having when I was a child."
Looking intently at the police officer, the albino studied the older man's features, keeping careful watch of his reactions, if only to see some spark of recognition.
To Star's frustration and disappointment, however, Wesker betrayed nothing; he was a hard and impenetrable person to read, so utterly distant and...cold.
He couldn't help being reminded of an ice sculpture - so utterly pristine and perfect in appearance, yet devoid entirely of warmth.
For several minutes, Star watched the police officer study his wallet, the hallway quiet.
"You're a university student from Arkham?" Wesker stated without looking up, his tone neutral.
Star offered a small smile and nod. "Yes. I graduated top of my class in high school and received a scholarship there. I'm currently working on a PH.D in Classics."
"What is your PH.D on?"
"Representations of deformity within Greek mythology," Star answered. "I'm interested in examining through the lens of crip theory."
"Is that right?" Wesker said uninterestedly.
Star swallowed uncomfortably, feeling nervous. "Uh, yes. In addition, I also have several papers under consideration for publication by a number of different academic journals, including Literature and Theology and the Journal of Semantics. An article that I am currently working on draws influence from the works of Michel Foucalt, a French philosopher."
Upon saying that name, he noticed Wesker suddenly perk up with interest.
"Foucault, you say?" he said with a hint of surprise.
"Yes," Star nodded, tilting his head curiously to the side. "Are you...are you familiar with his work?"
To his surprise, Wesker offered a small, upward curl from the corner of his mouth, a hint of a smile.
"Indeed," he replied, "although I am admittedly surprised that you would be. His writings are very complex."
Star offered a smile back. "'Knowledge is a gift,' as my mother would say," he half-shrugged in a nonchalant manner.
Finally, some common ground to work with.
Rebecca watched the exchange from a few feet away, observing the two as they conversed.
Looking at one figure, then the other, Rebecca tried comparing their features, the girl crossing her arms as she rested her chin in her hand.
Seeing them both side by side, she couldn't spot any features that suggested some familial connection.
Both males were handsome, with one or two slight similarities, but aside from that, there was nothing much else to go off of other than the fact that they both wore sunglasses.
One similarity that she did pick up on in relation to both men, however, was their intelligence; Rebecca was surprised by the sheer depth of knowledge that they both demonstrated through their conversation.
The content of their exchanges was myriad, with Star demonstrating an impressive range in mythology, literature, and philosophy, discussing the works of Foucault with feverish detail and how it connected with his own thesis.
Behaviorally, however, the two couldn't be any more different from one another; although they both put up stoic fronts, Star was more of a noticeably wound-up ball of nervous energy, although he really was trying his hardest to be seen as warm, open and approachable.
Rebecca could plainly see he was making a concentrated effort not to appear so nervous in front of the older man, but she was able to detect a slight tremble and jitteriness in his being, in his legs especially.
Wesker, on the other hand, was the epitome of calm and patience, his statuesque face stony and expressionless, yet he kept his responses short and terse, except on one or two occasions when the two of them discussed subjects relating to mathematics, anatomy, biology and chemistry.
Watching their interactions, Rebecca couldn't help sensing as if the S.T.A.R.S. Captain was...testing Star in his responses and his intelligence. Star for his part was very obliging and gave very accurate information in his answers, but even he seemed puzzled, sometimes giving a quizzical glance in Rebecca's direction, as if querying "what is he doing?"
Wesker didn't openly antagonize Star...but, it was very apparent from subtle body language that the medic picked up on that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. On a few occasions, Star tried asking something personal, only for Wesker to either not answer by moving onto the next question, or by abruptly shutting him down without so much as a second thought.
"Out of curiosity, Captain, what university did you go to?" Star asked.
"None of your business," Wesker curtly replied.
Faltering, Star glanced over in Rebecca's direction, looking uncertain.
'Tell him!' she wanted to say.
Turning his eyes back to Wesker, Rebecca watched the albino as he tried to muster up the courage to open his mouth and speak, only for him to falter and fizzle out, much to the girl's disappointment.
As Wesker pushed up his sunglasses again, the girl suddenly gave pause as she noticed something.
Both men had intense stares, but she couldn't help detect certain noticeable differences between the two. Star's was warm and kind, gentle, even, although admittedly somewhat strange to look at. In a way, she couldn't help being reminded of something...artificial, for lack of a better word. Like as if one were looking into the lens of a camera or at a monitor. Wesker, in contrast, seemed much colder and at times standoffish in comparison, especially with the sunglasses on.
Crueler even, much to her surprise.
'I must be reading too much into this,' Rebecca thought as she tucked some hair behind her right ear, watching as Wesker continued studying the contents of Star's wallet, paying the latter no mind.
"So tell me, Mister Wolf," the former said slowly, "...what brings you to Colorado?"
Rebecca watched as Star kept his gaze focused on him.
"There are," he said slowly, "...many reasons. Part of it because...I..." He cleared his throat, "I would like to join S.T.A.R.S."
"Do you really?" Wesker drawled, looking decidedly unimpressed with him, even without looking up.
Star nodded. "I do."
"Do you have any police or military training?"
Rebecca watched as the albino hesitated, squirming as he tugged slightly on the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat.
"Uhh...well..." he said in a slow and uncertain manner, "...no."
"Do you have any firearms training?"
Star squirmed, looking embarrassed. "...I...I don't. But-But I do have First Aid training, plus I know martial arts!" He added the last parts quickly.
Wesker was silent, his face completely unreadable.
As the former handed back the latter's wallet, Rebecca watched the albino as he placed it back into his pant pocket, the youth squirming slightly under the black lenses' stare.
"How did you get those scars?" Wesker asked.
Sweeping his gloved clawed hands through his silver hair, Star tucked some hair behind one of his pointed ears before running his thumb and index finger self-consciously over said-marks, as if partly trying to hide them as he glanced to the side. "I...umm...I don't know. That's part of the reason why I came here - to find out what happened."
Wesker stared unsympathetically, his face a hard mask. "Is that why you wear sunglasses?"
The albino anxiously fidgeted as he glanced down, looking at the wood on the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"P-Partly," he stuttered before blurting out, "I have an eye condition."
Upon its mention, Rebecca noticed his form tensing up, the youth seeming to wince inwardly as Wesker's sunglasses tilted upward at him. Star's expression faltered, then fell, as if regretting what he said.
"Show me," Wesker said as he crossed his arms, though to Rebecca it sounded more like a demand.
Frowning, Star reluctantly obeyed, shakily reaching up as he grabbed hold of his glasses, before finally taking them off, his eyes locked in a tightly held squint.
"Open your eyes."
Star hesitated. "Excuse me?"
"I said open your eyes."
Even Rebecca winced at the sharpness of Wesker's words, watching the albino's shoulders sag. Looking over to him, Rebecca nodded for him to continue.
Star sighed heavily at the request.
This was exactly what he was afraid of. Never before had he ever felt so nervous. He could feel his own stomach clench and twist painfully. Part of him felt like throwing up again due to how anxious he was.
Star started to squirm. Part of him felt as if he were shrinking in front of the smaller figure. He felt woefully inadequate, and from the way the S.T.A.R.S. Captain eyed him, the albino almost felt like a bug on his boot.
Me and my big fat mouth.
Taking in a deep breath, Star shakily exhaled once again.
Everything hinged on this moment, on Captain Wesker's response to him. It could mean either love and acceptance, or, at worst, disappointment and rejection, and Star feared the latter possibilities.
Finally, Star reluctantly opened his eyes, then waited, dreading the result.
Minutes counted by as Wesker stared at him, his lips parted slightly.
Feeling uncomfortable, Star lowered his eyes to the floor, staring at the tiles, at the nails on the floor, the thick layers of dust. Anything but the man in front of him.
Wesker took a step closer, then reached up with his gloved hands, tracing his finger's along the scars on the albino's face, catching the latter off-guard as he gave a surprised look.
Star smiled slightly as the smaller man touched his face, cupped his chin, then felt his smile fall as Wesker turned his head from side to side.
Rather than being affectionate, as part of the albino had hoped, the Captain's touch made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.
He felt as though he were some form of mitochondria in a petri dish, something to be put under a microscope and examined as opposed to a son being greeted by his own father.
Star was still as Wesker touched parts of his face, pulling up on his eyelids, examining his eyes, ears, mouth and neck.
Parting the albino's lips to expose his sharp teeth and fangs, the teenager felt his patience wane with every second, especially when the S.T.A.R.S. Captain started to trail his index and middle fingers along the scar that ran down the right side of his neck.
From the sidelines, Rebecca watched as Wesker examined Star. She could plainly see that the latter was uncomfortable, but what truly bothered her was the Captain's cold, even somewhat callous indifference to the youth's treatment. Part of her wanted to angrily reprimand him in protest when Wesker suddenly did something completely unexpected, catching both her and Star off-guard.
He placed his head against the latter's chest.
Parting his mouth in shock, Star stared down at him, then quietly glanced over in her direction, as if asking "are you seeing this?", the albino's eyes watery, his mouth pulled at the corners of his mouth in a smile.
Softening her expression, Rebecca gave him a slow, encouraging nod and smile back, watching him look back at Wesker in relief.
There was something so incredibly sad in Star's expression, as he seemed genuinely moved by the gesture, looking ready to let out tears of joy at any given moment.
She couldn't even imagine what must be going through his head at the moment - all that Rebecca knew was that it really looked like things were finally going to turn around for Star.
From what she knew of his background, there was no denying that he was an intensely lonely person.
Rebecca knew the feeling very well herself; growing up, she often found herself by herself.
While there were times where she found being alone comforting, the truth, however, was that too much isolation can be an absolutely soul-crushing experience.
There were many instances where she would find herself looking around at people who were smiling and laughing with each other, with them all seeming to enjoy each other's company. Part of her at times felt resentment, envious and bitter toward those people for being so happy, for being able to find companionship, making it all seem so easy.
At times, she would ask God "What have I done wrong?"
Most of the time, however, she just felt sad.
Sad, and lonely.
Looking at Star, she couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him as a scarred, seven-foot albino, especially as a child.
Seeing him now, though, Rebecca could genuinely say that she was positively thrilled for him; the boy looked as if the entire weight of the world was off his shoulders. Never before had she seen anyone looked so contented, so relieved, and it moved her deeply.
He looked like one who was at peace with the world, if not with the universe, and after what must have been so many years of being alone, things looked as though they might actually work out in Star's favor, and she was very happy for him.
'Looks like he won't be so lonely anymore,' she thought as she watched the two of them standing close together in the middle of the hallway.
Feeling herself tear up, Rebecca raised a hand to cover her mouth, trying to refrain from letting out either a sniffle or sob, for fear of ruining their moment.
Star swallowed as he stood still, a feeling of warmth seeping through his chest as he felt his father embrace him, relishing the sensation.
Relaxing, the albino closed his eyes, and slowly raised his right arm, carefully wrapping it around his father in a light hug...until he wasn't.
Wesker's reaction to the gesture was swift and violent, like one touched by acid; one moment, Star was hugging him, the next, he suddenly found himself reeling and stumbling backward as the S.T.A.R.S. Captain violently shoved him away with a surprising level of force.
"STAR!" He heard Rebecca cry.
As Star struggled to keep his balance, he bewilderedly looked back in shock at Wesker, only to completely freeze at the sight of his expression.
It was a look that would have made even Medusa recoil.
It was a look that was such a startling contrast to the kindly and gentle treatment that Rebecca received earlier. Where Rebecca was offered warmth and kindness from the S.T.A.R.S. Captain, Star was offered nothing but hostility along with a look of pure, undisguised disgust and hatred.
Wrinkling his brow, the albino opened his mouth to ask "why?" when he heard several footsteps approaching, cutting him off.
"Guys? Guys is everything oka-" Chris' words stopped short as he rounded the corner down at the end, the Point Man's eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Wesker. "Captain!" He then looked over his right shoulder. "Holy shit - guys, Captain Wesker's here!"
Star watched as Wesker silently turned his concealed eyes in Redfield's direction.
"Chris," he greeted. "How nice to see you."
Chris smiled back, nodding. "It's great to see you as well, Captain. We were all worried sick about you."
Wesker offered a wry smile that made Star inwardly cringe. Seeing Wesker up-close, the albino was struck by how almost...reptilian...his smile seemed.
"How touching," Wesker said in his deep, baritone voice, the S.T.A.R.S. Captain pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.
Star stood there awkwardly, feeling like a third or fourth wheel when Chris suddenly seemed to notice his presence, making him feel uncomfortable. That awkwardness grew as moments later, Chris was joined by Jill and the others as they all appeared from around the corner.
"Captain Wesker!" Jill gasped.
Joseph smiled, flipping off a quick salute with his fingers. "Good to see you, Cap!"
Wesker nodded. "Jill, Joseph. Good to see you." He then finally turned to the last approaching S.T.A.R.S. member, who stiffly froze in his tracks, giving a slow nod. "Barry."
Barry grunted, looking uncomfortable as he averted his eyes.
Star sensed everyone's discomfort as they gave him and Wesker anxious looks, all of them seeming to realize that they have arrived at a very inconvenient time. Chris especially seemed to have picked up on that as he glanced over at Star, then over at Rebecca, then back to Wesker again, clearing his throat.
"Uhh...sorry. Have I...have I interrupted something?" Chris asked.
Wesker turned his eyes in Star's direction, giving him a cold and dirty look, not making secret his apparent disdain for him before turning away.
"No," he answered, brushing some dust off his shirt and bulletproof vest. "You missed nothing important. Let's head back to dining hall - we have many things to discuss."
Chris nodded. "Yes, sir."
Star watched as the police officer headed back down the hall.
Finding his voice at last, he called out. "C-Captain-"
"What?" Star flinched at the sharp edge in Wesker's voice, the aggressive tone catching the albino off-guard. As Wesker stopped mid-step, he gave a cold side-glance over his shoulder before demanding impatiently, "What is it?"
Star struggled to find his voice again, only for his nerves to get the better of him.
"I...I'm..." Faltering, the youth gloomily stared to the floor, his sloped shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry for...any inconvenience and...embarrassment...that I may have caused you. And..."
He trailed off, his violet eyes drooping.
Wesker stared at him, his face an impenetrable mask, his form quiet, before turning silently away. "Let's get to the dining hall. Standing out in the open like this will draw unwanted attention."
What the hell happened?
Those four words were all that Rebecca was able to think when it all went south. It had happened all so quickly that it left her winded.
One by one the survivors departed, disappearing from view. Rebecca saw Wesker leave, then Barry, then Joseph.
The last to leave after Chris was Jill, who gave Star an apologetic and sympathetic look before turning to look at her.
The medic nodded silently, answering her unasked question, then watched as Jill left, leaving her alone with Star.
Turning her to attention to the red-clad figure, Rebecca felt her heart break as he dejectedly stood there, the youth weakly raising his hand before letting it fall back to his side.
"...I'm...your son," the albino murmured into the empty hallway, his voice very low and quiet.
Rebecca stepped closer.
"I'm so sorry, Star," she almost whispered, keeping her voice at a low enough volume so that only the albino could hear her.
Star kept still, and silent, his violet slit eyes staring to the floor, his expression dark and gloomy.
"...Do you want to know something funny?" he asked.
"About what?"
He shakily exhaled through his nostrils.
"...I...knew this was going to happen," he admitted in a hushed voice. Wiping his eyes, Star let out a shaky breath again, this time through his mouth. "Every day... I would imagine this exact moment. This exact kind of response."
He swallowed, a slight wavering in his voice. "I thought that-that by conceiving of the worst ways he would have responded to me, the worst that could have happened...it would have- would have lessened the impact...of..."
Star's lower lip trembled slightly as he shook his head again. "I-I don't understand...I don't understand it..."
Rebecca watched as tears trickled down his scarred face as he tried to keep the pain he clearly felt all bottled up.
"Oh Star," she said quietly. "It's okay. It's not so bad."
Star wiped his eyes. "Did you see the way he was acting toward me? He hated me."
"No, he didn't hate you, Star."
"What would you call it, then?" he retorted, turning to face her. "What would you call a gesture where a mere touch causes a person to just suddenly recoil and-and push you away like that? What would you call a look like the one he just gave? I know that look - I've seen it plenty of times back home in Arkham, where they all looked at me like-like I'm-I'm s-s-some sort o-o-of m-m-monster! And-And the-the-the way he was touching me!"
Clenching his hand into a fist, Star pulled from Rebecca as he whirled around on his heel and punched straight into the wall, startling her as he produced a sizeable dent, the wood underneath the wallpaper splintering from the impact.
The albino kept still, then withdrew his first, turning his back to her as he stared down the opposite of the hall.
Once she felt sure that he calmed down, Rebecca slowly approached the giant red-clad figure, placing her back hand on Star's pauldron-clad shoulder, the medic giving him a reassuring, sympathetic pat.
"It's okay, Star," she quietly assured as he continued looking away from her, staring down to the floor. "It's okay. I know you're upset. It's alright."
The albino wiped his eyes, sniffling slightly. "I should have expected his reaction. I should have prepared myself before meeting with him." He then shook his head in derision before muttering ruefully, "Then again, perhaps his response would have been the same regardless."
Rebecca shook hers. "Captain Wesker doesn't know that you're his son, Star," the medic assured as she attempted to alleviate the situation. "Look at it from his perspective - he came here with the others thinking that we were all dealing with cultists. He didn't expect to find zombies. He didn't expect to find monsters. And then he meets you while your dressed like that, with no knowledge of who you are, let alone what you are like, and you attempt to hug him. He's not psychic, Star. That's all."
She then placed both hands on his upper arms as she stood behind him, giving them a gentle and reassuring squeeze. "You'll see, Star. Once you explain your relation to him, I'm sure he'll be more understanding and accepting of you. You'll see."
Rebecca watched as Star considered what she said, the albino calming down just ever so slightly.
Turning around to face her, he wiped his eyes again, exhaling. "I...I guess y-you're right," he nodded, the youth clearing his voice. "I-I'm sorry about that, Rebecca."
She shook her head. "You don't have to apologize."
He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "God, I feel like such an idiot. I must seem so...clingy...and...pathetic-"
"No! No," Rebecca reassured as she rigorously shook her head at him. "You aren't. You really aren't."
The two teenagers were quiet and still as they stood close together.
Sighing, Star nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Rebecca."
Rebecca smiled, giving him a wink and a thumbs up.
"Let's meet up with the others, otherwise they might end up getting worried," she waved, motioning for him to follow.
Putting away his cracked sunglasses, the albino sighed.
Well, it seems I'm off to a bumpy start with Father. Not the meeting I quite envisioned. I hope I can patch things up between us and that this isn't how the rest of this night is going to be like.
Drawing up his red hood, Star tiredly followed after Rebecca, collecting his suitcases along the way.
Author's Notes: And that concludes this chapter! Many thanks to The Lady Frost, Egyptianmaus, Ivyblade80, littlevamp, EchoSeeker247 and Flaming Overlord for their immense help - thank you so much, guys! You are all awesome! :D
*This was meant to be a homage to S.D. Perry's RE1 novel which had some pretty fun dialogue and interactions between the characters, so I just thought I'd include that since it seemed to fit imo.
Until next time, take care and stay safe and healthy, everyone! :D