She wakes up, panting in the frigid night air. A shiver runs down her spine, whether from the cold or forbidden desire, she cannot tell. The familiar nightmare fades into obscurity, but she doesn't need to remember it's contents to know what it's about. Slim fingers trace the now fading scars on her chest. It's the only physical reminder of the atrocities she endured. The atrocities she committed.
"Jill. You okay?" He flipped on the lights, standing in the doorway, his stance reflecting the uncertainty he felt. "You were screaming."
Her teeth chatter and she shakes her head. No. She is definitely not okay. Chris sits on the bed beside her, his handsome features twisting with concern. While she longs to tell him it will all be okay, she refrains, knowing that pretty little lies may only make things worse.
She remembers the day they first met. The laughs and jokes with their friends, many of whom were not as lucky as she. Or perhaps they were luckier. Their suffering was over quickly. Hers lasted forever. An eternity at the hands of someone they'd once trusted. That she had once believed in, followed straight into the depths of hell with complete confidence. How fucking naive she'd been.
No, the dead were definitely the lucky ones. At least their suffering was over.
Chris squeezes her hand, moving slowly and deliberately, not wanting to startle her. He knows she's bent beyond recognition, just as he knows she refuses to break. Her eyes glaze over and she seems a million miles away. Regret and anger threaten to consume him, but he forces it aside. That's not what she needs. Honestly he has no idea what she needs, but he knows it isn't for him to wallow in self pity.
Getting up, he gently presses her shoulders, guiding her to lay back down. He pulls the blankets tighter around her pale frame before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. It's burning hot, but the rest of her is cool to the touch. The frown on his face is quickly replaced with a neutral expression. Jill will be fine. She always is.
Flicking the light off, he stands in the dark. It seems to swallow them both, consuming everything in its path. He's not sure how long he can keep it at bay, but he knows he'll die trying, if that's what it comes down to. That he will gladly spend the rest of his life watching over her. Failure was not an option; not again. Never again.
"Stay," she answers his unspoken question. The connection they share, though dulled and twisted by years of sharp edges, remains intact. Some things don't need to be said aloud, only felt. It's something neither of them can bring themselves to embrace or deny, currently frozen in a loop of lingering despair. But Chris will fight until the end.
He returns to her side and curls up behind her. She allows the touch, needing to feel something human, she certainly doesn't feel that title applies to her anymore. But Chris is certainly that; a hard, warm package of bulging muscle and safety. She is safe. She knows she's safe. But she doesn't know if she'll ever truly feel that safety again.
They lay silently together for hours, even as the sunlight chases the darkness away. Slowly at first, until it illuminates every corner of the room. And still they lay together. Frozen in time, unable to move forward. There is no way to go back. Stuck in moments of uncertainty and indecision.
Chris listens, sure she is asleep, and moves to get up.
Her cheeks are stained with a lifetime of tears. The aching in her limbs reminds her of the terrible misdeeds this body committed. Her body. Not this body, her body. But at least it was hers now, free of him. When Chris moves away, she longs for him to go. And she also longs for him to stay. She is so scattered, so unfocused, screaming and trapped in a prison of her own mind.
"I can still feel his hands on me."
Chris stops. He isn't sure how to respond, so he sits beside her, waiting to see if she'll continue. It's the first time she's spoken more than basic words since they pulled that horrible device off her chest in Africa. To him, at least. He's heard she talks to Barry sometimes, and he reminds himself it's not personal.
"The things that I did," she chokes back a sob.
"Jill, it's not your fault. That monster will never touch you or anyone else, ever again."
She nods imperceptibly. She'd seen his demise with her own eyes. Watched as his entire existence was erased from the planet. Her tormentor. The world wouldn't miss him. He'd lost his mind, especially toward the end. The unrivaled ruthlessness grew tenfold, even as he descended further into insanity, unraveled by history and horrors beyond his control. It was still his fault; he could've reacted differently. Reversed course to truly make his own fate. But there was a certain freedom in the insanity. A freedom he gave her too, even as he bound her in chains.
Insanity and freedom. The incredible high of his drugs, followed by a distinct numbness. There was no remorse or guilt. She'd learned much during her time with him. It's easy to give in. To let the darkness take over. The proverbial path of least resistance. Being with him was easy. He freed her from all moral constraints. Her savior. Her savior and her tormentor.
It's not easy to move on. To fight to keep the darkness he unleashed within her, at bay. Darkness she never knew existed. Even with Chris and her friends at her side, she wonders if it is a losing battle. He may have damaged her beyond redemption. She might be too far gone, like a beloved pet frothing at the mouth with rabies. A danger to those she loves most. A dog that needed to be put down, both for its own good and the betterment of those around her. Was she that rabid dog, just like he turned into?
The shock of feeling and reason pounds behind her skull. Remorse seeps in, tainting her soul. Like little scars, the lies she told of how awful it was, were far from the truth, shredding her heart to ribbons and blood. Before Chris found her, she reveled in the newfound freedom, burying her humanity in layers of seductive darkness. Bound by him, but unbound by anything else. Freed from morals and ethics, from being the good girl. From physical restrictions, her body capable of amazing feats. And she fucking loved it, and the power it gave her.
Chris might forgive her and make excuses, but she knows the truth. She is unforgivable because she enjoyed it.
"Some days I just want to give in."
He holds her hand, thankful that she's here. He'd spent years searching the world over. And now she's here in front him, but she's also a million miles away. So far away, and he has no idea how to pull her back, to tether her to who she is.
"If that's what you want. I'll be here to pull you back."
Her icy blue eyes meet his. She feels the truth in his words. The utter devotion and complete conviction. He'd put his life on the line for her. Before she went over that cliff, she thought there might be something more. Beyond their years of camaraderie and partnership. Maybe that was why she did it, she didn't know anymore. All that seems like a lifetime ago.
Would he still trust her darkened and twisted soul? If he knew the things she had done, would he still want to save her? What if he knew how part of her longed to go back. Would he still look at her the same way?
"If you knew everything you wouldn't want to pull me back."
Her words shock him. No matter what she's done or how she feels, he knows her. The curve of her neck. How she snores when she's sick. Every poster she hung in her room at Raccoon City, and the ones in her BSAA quarters. Her hopes and dreams. The way her eyes light up when she's genuinely happy, and the tears that come when she's sad. The goodness in her heart. He knew her before he fully knew himself. She may be harder, darker, a bit more twisted than before. Her hair is blonde, and it may never go back, but he doesn't care. She is still Jill Valentine and she is unbreakable.
"I don't care what you've done."
"You would hate me, Chris."
"Not possible. Even if you ended the world standing beside him. I could never hate you," his words are a mere whisper. A confession he sounds almost ashamed to admit.
She tries to hold back the sniffles in her nose and the water trying to leak from her eyes. How is he so steadfast and sure, when she has nothing left? Nothing left but the potential freedom of darkness.
Chris' world is confined by invisible boundaries and rules. Social etiquette and moral ethics. The desire to help and do good. A righteous and just desire that she once shared. Did she still share it? Was she too far gone? The intimate caress of darkness calls out for her, still whispering inside her skull.
"Get up," Chris orders, his voice a bit more gruff than he meant. Her hospital gown is thin and loose, hanging on her lithe frame like a sack. Icy blue eyes shoot him a weary look, but she does, allowing him to take her hand. He leads her to the other side of the room, rifling through a drawer.
Kneeling before her, she swallows hard and lifts her leg, holding his steady shoulders for balance. She is so off balance and has no idea where they are going, but she follows, a former shell of herself. The pants he pulls over her nearly fall down and she stops, holding them up. He lets go of her hand and ties them tighter.
Her blank stare chills him to the bone, but she still follows. Several agents stop them, but she's too far in her own mind to pay attention. When she arrived, she knew she wasn't allowed to leave. Not until they figured out if she was a threat and what she was capable of. Even she had no idea. But still she follows Chris, right outside the facility's double doors.
"You are Jill Valentine."
"I don't know who that is," she says dreamily, squinting into the bright sunlight. How long had she been in this facility? Days? Weeks? Years? Was she even here, or was this a drug induced hallucination?
Jill shrinks back against the building. It's not safety, but it's a reprieve from the glaring light. A patch of darkness in the sunny landscape, and she knows it's where she belongs. Down in the darkness, with the broken, dead, and damned.
"Jill, snap out of it," Chris takes her hands again, his thumbs circling over her knuckles. He sees how lost she is, her eyes unfocused, and hopes he didn't push her too far. "I need you."
"You did pretty well without me."
"I didn't," he said softly. "Every night I was lost in the same nightmare. And every night I saved you, over and over. Any way I could. From death, from him, from that God damn mansion, I saved you. But when you really needed me, I was too slow," his voice broke but at least he had her attention. "I wasn't good enough to save you that night. But I will now, no matter what."
Jill blinks slowly, processing the words. They are heartfelt, but words don't really change anything. She wasn't sure she wanted to be saved. "How long have I been here?"
"Three months, two days and sixteen hours."
The harsh light of day rises behind him, midmorning, if she had to guess. His shadow casts over her eyes, offering her a break from its glaring light. It feels like an apt analogy for the inner battle raging inside of her. Darkness vs. Light. Before she had no idea, but now, she knew she had the capacity for both.
Maybe that was the only freedom she had left. The freedom to choose. Follow the path of light, or descend back into the darkness.
"Walk with me."
Chris starts away, his heavy footsteps much longer than hers. When he stops and looks back, his hand outstretched, she hesitates. Her brain still feels hazy, like it's clouded in a fog of drugs. Not his drugs, but drugs nonetheless. Except they offer none of the euphoria or invincibility. None of the freedom and power.
Jill wiggles her fingers, watching the movement. Despite the haze, she has full control of her faculties. Her body moves when she tells it to. If she had the desire, she could run away. It would be easy enough to grab the holster on Chris' vest and hold the gun to his head. She wouldn't kill him, but it would get her out of this facility.
"Jill?"
Licking her lips, she reaches toward his outstretched hand, thinking of how simple it would be. Could she do that to him though? Inside her chest, her heart flutters with adrenaline. Pumping blood through her veins, forcing oxygen to her brain. Thoughts of Chris were one of the only things that kept her going, especially after the fall.
"I haven't made my choice yet."
Chris sees the hesitation and fear, the wild look in her eyes. While he isn't afraid, he knows it's possible she might lash out. It wouldn't be the first time. "I know. It's okay."
Jill nods once, feeling the warmth of his hand. His massive body towers over hers, blocking out some of the harsh light. When he pulls his hand away and rummages through a pouch, she watches him with disinterest. His hands approach her face, slowly, like he's afraid to startle her. He probably is. She feels like a ticking time bomb. She is a ticking time bomb.
Placing the sunglasses over her eyes, he takes her hand again and keeps walking. It's easier to see without the blinding glare. The trees and shrubs are blooming with greenery. Birds sing their happy songs in the distance, making the musical sounds of the world echo in her ears. It all looks and sounds different, and it hurts just a tiny ounce less with Chris filtering out the harshness.
She still hasn't made her decision. Chris knows that. But maybe she can walk along this path for a while and see where it takes them.
"Thank you."
"You don't ever need to thank me. Just come backā¦" he trails off, his words barely above a whisper.
"I'm trying. Everything is so bright. So shiny. It hurts. Everything hurts. The things I did, the things I might do."
"That's why you have me. And your sunglasses. Baby steps, back into the light."
"What if I don't want to?"
"You do," he says with complete conviction. "And you know I'll always pull you back."
They walk a while, her bare feet in the grass. It strikes her as strange that Chris didn't put shoes on her, but maybe that was to deter her from running away. It hurts a little less right now, but she knows when the sun sets and the darkness comes again, the cycle will repeat. All over again, like the merry go round from hell that she can't get off of.
"Why?"
Chris looks at her, unsure of how to answer. Opening his mouth, he finally settled on something that doesn't seem too pushy or mushy, but also relays how much he cares. "Because you're my partner. And nothing will ever change that."
Her head was slightly clearer. The world was still too bright, but she could see it for what it was. While she hadn't made any decisions, she could walk this path for a while and see where it takes her.
A/N: Most of my work is posted on AO3 first, under the same name. I also have several pieces that go against FFs terms that can't be posted here for sex/violence
