A/N: This is the abridged version that I will try to keep within the limits of what FFN considers safe. It will contain less detailed scenes, but with all the confusion and nightmare fuel I usually add to my stories.
Warning: Contains M/M(/M) ships, BDSM-style relationsships, nightmares, sleepwalking, mild body horror.
Place your hands against the wall. Don't move them until I tell you otherwise.
Ethan shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. The order had been clear and simple and in the ten minutes he had already spent pressing both palms to the wall, he had time to contemplate the goal of the exercise. It seemed to be teaching him to follow orders without questioning, something Piers excelled at. Had it not been for Ethan's incurable curiosity and inability to respect his roommates' privacy, he would not be waiting here.
It all started about three weeks after Ethan and his wife Mia Winters had been rescued from the Bakers' residence in Dulvey, Louisiana. While Mia's surgical operation and rehabilitation went well, Ethan struggled a lot more, both physically and mentally. Every time they removed one node of Mold, another seemed to pop up somewhere else in his body, growing faster than the last one. Five surgeries later, he was so weak that the BSAA doctors advised against further conventional treatment. But Ethan was a stubborn and resilient man, a trait he took pride in. So when the Mold won, he was still in possession of his personality and memories, he was still himself. Maybe he was a bit more temperamental and he still had trouble getting used to the changes in his body's new strength, but he was still the same nerdy guy who had gone to find his wife weeks prior. It wasn't his fault that he would turn into a gooey monster every now and then.
At the opposite side of the table sat several people, one of them being the man who had helped him out of there. Ethan tried to remember his first name, but couldn't find that memory. The other three, all wearing suits, called him 'Captain Redfield' and kept asking Ethan too many questions he barely understood, about his wife and her work, about the Bakers, about the things he had fought and how he had turned into one of them himself. He could hardly answer one of the inquiries, but the options they presented at the end of the interrogation were easy: spend the rest of his life in a lab in hopes they found a cure or join the fight against bioterrorism as a soldier himself. Redfield protested against the latter, but once Ethan agreed, the suits quickly shut the conversation down and left them. The captain glared at him with a hint of contempt Ethan couldn't comprehend. What had he done wrong? He was brought back to his containment cell and the uncomfortable collar removed from around his neck.
The next few days flew by in a haze, some more tests were done and it all seemed to lead up to something Ethan didn't know about, yet, until one afternoon about a week after the interview a young woman wearing a similar collar to the one he had to wear outside his cell came to him and told him to pack his things and get ready to leave. There wasn't much to pack anyway and the little he had been allowed to bring was easily thrown into a bag and glancing over his cell one last time he stood there and waited.
Half an hour later the door opened again and one of the wardens entered, collaring him as usual before leading him out of there and to the visiting room. A familiar face was waiting there for him, Captain Redfield, and with him a stranger. Ethan estimated the man standing next to Redfield to be a little younger than himself. Like the captain, he was dressed in simple black clothes with an added combat vest, and scowled at Ethan as he entered the small chamber.
"All yours, Captain", the warden said, handed Redfield the remote control for the collar, and left.
"Alright, what the fuck is going on?" Ethan asked, earning another hostile glare from the stranger.
"You're being transferred. The higher-ups think you no longer need to stay in the lab", Redfield explained curtly.
"About fucking time", the blond sighed. "So I can go back home?"
"You're coming with us", the captain ordered and motioned him to follow.
The ride in the car was uncomfortably silent and Ethan received no answers to the questions he had. Every time he complained about the lack of information, the stranger's scowl became a little more hostile and in the end, he gave up on trying to talk to the men in the front of the car.
They stopped at a large iron gate until it was completely opened and they could pass through it onto a decently sized plot. From the back row Ethan couldn't see much of the house ahead, but at least it didn't look like another lab or prison.
"So, when can I get back home?" Ethan asked again and this time, there was a reaction.
"This will be your home for the time being. You are not to leave the premises. You will abide by the rules. Are we clear?" Redfield stated and parked the car.
"What the hell? Where are we? I never agreed to this!"
The captain turned around in the driver's seat and intensely stared at him. The atmosphere was so hostile and tense it gave Ethan chills.
"It's either this or back to the lab. And I promise you, there will not be another chance to ever get out again. So, do not leave the premises and abide by the rules. Are we clear?" the captain growled.
Ethan swallowed dryly. No matter how much he would hate it here, there was no way he ever wanted to go back into the containment cell and spend the rest of his days as a lab rat. He nodded in agreement and that seemed to satisfy them. Both of the men in the front exited their seats and moments later the door opened to let him out. Gingerly, he took his bag and stepped out onto the gravel path, taking in the new surroundings. In the light of the sunset, it didn't look that bad here. The car door slammed shut, startling him, and Redfield grumbled at him to follow. The young stranger herded him into the house and closed the front door behind them.
"These are the rules. Read them. Memorize them. Stick to them if you know what's good for you", Redfield said and handed him several sheets of paper.
"How the hell am I supposed to remember all of that?" Ethan complained. "At least I want to know where I am, who you guys are, and what the fuck is going on here!"
"Do you ever shut up?" the younger man groaned.
Ethan had enough of that attitude and stared back with the same amount of contempt the stranger radiated.
"I'm…", he hissed before a loud clap interrupted him.
"Enough, Winters. You'll get the necessary information tomorrow. Show him to his room", the captain commanded.
Ethan could only follow the younger man upstairs and be ushered to a bedroom.
"Good night", the stranger said.
Before Ethan had another chance to reply anything, the door shut, and he stood there alone and forlorn. At least the room was clean. It was furnished with a bed, next to it an end table with a lamp, a wardrobe, a desk and a chair. There was another door leading to a tiny bathroom. Vestigial, but it would have to do. Sighing, he dropped his bag onto the desk and rummaged through it for his toiletries. His clothes were piled onto the chair safe for the boxer shorts, those stayed on. In the confusion and hurry, he had completely forgotten to ask about removing the collar, but he felt that exiting his room without permission to look for the others and ask them would cause more trouble than it was worth.
Once he was done washing himself and brushing his teeth, he turned off the ceiling light and slipped under the surprisingly soft and warm covers. By the light of the table lamp he read line after line until he fell asleep.
Morning started early with the young man knocking briskly on his door before flinging it open and bellowing a "wake up, time for breakfast". Though there was no clock in Ethan's room, the light of dawn outside gave him a good idea how early it still was. He threw on the same clothes he had worn the day before and stumbled out of his bedroom.
Following a hunch and the smell of fried eggs, he descended the stairs and finally found the kitchen. Redfield already sat at the table, a cup of coffee touching his lips as he sipped the piping hot liquid. The other sat down two more cups and motioned for Ethan to sit down as well.
"Morning", he greeted them and slipped onto the chair.
"Good morning. Did you get some sleep last night?" the captain asked, though he didn't sound like he was interested in Ethan's reply.
"Yeah, I did. Can I now also get some answers?" he retorted. "Where am I and what is going on here?"
"You are in my home. As for the why, your little thoughtless agreement to helping us fight has compelled the higher-ups to place you under my care while you're being rehabilitated. You'll train with us until you're fit enough to join the BSAA forces. And while I don't appreciate baby-sitting civilians, the staff has assured me that you'll be an invaluable asset to our operations", Redfield explained and took another sip. "Like Piers here, you have survived a serious infection and are no longer fully human. That's why we can't simply let you go back home."
"So I'm stuck here until I can go and get myself killed in the war against terrorism", Ethan said flatly.
"You're decision, buddy", the younger man chimed in with no small amount of sarcasm.
"Oh, fuck off", Ethan hissed at him.
"Wanna take that attitude of yours outside?" he growled back.
"That's enough", Redfield interrupted. "Winters, this is Piers Nivans. He's one of the best, if not the best, I've ever worked with and I strongly advise against making him your enemy. He may be younger than you, but he has years of experience you lack. Maybe you can learn something from him."
Ethan shut his mouth and inspected the younger man again. He didn't look all that intimidating, but he had been around enough infected during his recovery from the surgeries that he knew looks could deceive. Absent-mindedly he picked up his fork and began eating his breakfast. Who knew what they had in store for him.
After breakfast, Ethan was given a set of sports gear and shoes, as well as the order to be back at the front door fifteen minutes later. As it turned out, the wardrobe in his room was already stocked with underwear and some dark-colored clothes. He quickly changed into the provided sweatpants and shirt, zipped up the hoodie until it covered the collar around his neck, and slipped into the shoes. They fit - not perfectly, but well enough. As soon as he was done, he returned downstairs.
A year ago, Ethan would have called the exercises brutal. They ran what he assumed was a five-mile distance and when they were back, Redfield let them run more laps around the building behind the house until Ethan felt like he was about to collapse. In the break he got after stretching, he gulped down a bottle of water which caused some nausea once he had to move again. Though they hadn't talked a word the whole time, Nivans helped him get up from the ground and caught him as he swayed from dizziness.
"Easy there, Winters. Don't break your neck", he said.
"Ethan. Just call me Ethan", he offered, mostly because being called by his last name brought back unpleasant memories.
"Alright, Ethan, I'm Piers. And if we don't want to spend the afternoon scrubbing gym mats, we should get back to Chris."
Ethan followed the younger man back around the building to the captain who looked at Piers with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. They entered what turned out to be some kind of gym and somewhere between push-ups and lifting weights, he lost track of time.
Lunch consisted of more protein-rich foods and Ethan briefly wondered when he had last eaten this much. He felt close to starving and scoffed down the whole plate without even thinking about the taste. Piers took care of the dishes when they were finished. There was no new command on what to do, so Ethan sat idly in his chair, thinking about how to breach the subjects he wanted to know more about. Just as he opened his mouth to ask Piers a question, Redfield returned with a book that he handed to the blond.
"Your assignment for the next two and a half hours: Read it", he said before joining Piers and helping him put away the clean plates.
Gingerly, Ethan opened the "Complete Manual On Modern Firearms" and flipped to the first page.
"Why exactly should I read this now?" he asked.
"You're right, you'd be better off re-reading the list of rules he has given you", Piers said quietly without looking at him.
"Fuck you, Piers", Ethan said, without any real conviction or hatred.
"Oh, you wish, blondie", the young man retorted.
"Take it to your room and read it. I don't want to hear a word from you before 3 pm", the captain halted their quarreling.
The silence in his room was unbearable and Ethan would have given a lot to have someone to talk to. Whenever the noise around him died down, the sounds of a chainsaw whirred in his head and often left him paralyzed with fear until he managed to shake himself out of the memory. Maybe music would help, or an audio book, both things he had taken for granted before Dulvey. There had to be a way to regain access to these amenities, at least for a short period of time during the day.
Without a working clock, he wasn't able to tell when he was allowed to talk to the others again, a flaw that he hadn't noticed earlier. Ethan sneaked down the stairs, glad the wood didn't creak under his feet, to chance a look at the one hanging in the living room. It reminded him of visiting his grandparents when he was eight and they still made him nap in the afternoons. According to the clock there, he had to stay silent for more than another 30 minutes. As he turned to go back he noticed that both his new wardens were there. Redfield sat on the couch, holding a book in one hand and his other stroking Piers' hair, who slept with his head on the captain's lap. It was a strangely peaceful scene that tugged at his heartstrings.
A little while after the time was up, Piers called him back down into the living room and offered him something to drink. With his cup of fresh herbal tea in his hands, he sat down opposite the captain, the youngest taking a seat a little off to the side so they formed a triangle.
"This is not a test, right? Because, uhm, I haven't finished the book, yet", Ethan admitted awkwardly, eliciting a laugh from Piers.
"You weren't supposed to, don't worry", he chuckled.
"You had questions and wanted to talk. So, talk. We will provide you with the information we can disclose at this time", Redfield began the conversation and laid his hands on his knees, the tenseness of his expression betraying the relaxed posture his body took.
"First of all, why am I here? I get all that training bullshit, but can't I go home for the night? I thought I could go back to my normal…", Ethan rushed into his issues.
"Ethan, you have to understand that your old life is gone. The sooner you accept that fact, the happier you will be in the long run", Piers sighed and the sound had lost its aggressive edge from the evening before.
"You probably hadn't realized that you've pledged your life to th… our cause when you accepted the offer. One of the reasons I opposed the proposal, but those stuck-up bastards only see your 'value' as a bioweapon", the older man explained. "They want us to train you and send you back to die out there. This is not how I want to do this. I've lost enough good men recently. You will receive every help we can provide and we will make sure you can survive anything they could ever throw at you."
There was a fire in the captain's eyes that left Ethan speechless for a moment. He had taken him for someone slightly apathetic to Ethan's problems and the display of righteous fury behind the sullen facade was quite a surprise, but a welcomed one.
"Why do you even bother? I mean, you could just tell your boss or whoever that I'm a hopeless case and let me rot in some cell", the blond suggested.
"First of all, I have a reputation to maintain and unless you sabotage every other attempt to train you after this one, it will reflect badly on me", Redfield said and shook his head. "No, I will mold you into a force to be reckoned with."
"I'm surprised they didn't give you a time limit", Piers said and took a swig from his glass of cider.
"I think they don't really expect results either way", the captain replied and combed his fingers through his short hair.
"So, what does that mean for me? Am I really stuck here?" Ethan asked uneasily.
"Basically, for the time being, yes. Since you are officially a bioweapon, your presence outside of this property will be considered a threat to public safety. Additionally, you will find that leaving the little safe bubble of the lab can have some drastic effects on your health and it will take some getting used to", Piers revealed. "Believe me, I've been there."
"One more reason for you to stick to the rules and schedules. Learn them by heart."
Ethan stared down into his cup, the uneasy feeling sinking in. It had all sounded so simple, just accepting the deal and getting out of the containment cell.
"Besides, you're not a hopeless case", Chris said, drawing Ethan's attention. "For someone without any training and after several surgeries and being locked up for weeks, you're in good shape. Most can't keep up with Piers in the beginning and he assured me you were never far behind him. Well done."
Ethan averted his gaze, flustered by the unexpected praise and the tiny smile on Redfield's lips that made his insides all fuzzy. Briefly, his eyes met Piers' who watched him like an extraordinary specimen under the lens of a microscope.
"Thanks, I'll continue to try my best, sir", the blond mumbled shyly.
"Since you're already on first-name basis with Piers, let's make this easier and call me Chris when we're off-duty. No need to be overly formal considering you'll be living here for a long while."
"While we're on the topic: If I can't go outside, can I somehow get some of my possessions from my old apartment? Like my phone, laptop, or at least an alarm clock?" Ethan requested.
"We will try to have someone send it over, but I must insist that you delete any social media accounts you have and only call phone numbers we know and approve. You won't call or otherwise contact any old friends, former colleagues or family members. Remember that you are officially dead. If there are any expenses necessary to repair or replace anything you own, the costs will be monitored and paid by us. Do you understand?" Chris asked at the end of this list of rules.
"But I still have a bank account and can…", he objected.
"No, you don't. Our organization confiscated your possessions while you were treated. Most of it should be in a BSAA warehouse, any perishables were thrown away of course, and your savings are in a secure bank account under a false name. Ethan Winters died tragically in an accident. Outside the relevant people in our branch, no one even knows you're here", the older man explained patiently.
"Okay, okay. I get it", Ethan grumbled. "Then what about this?" He pointed a finger at the broad strap attached around his neck. "Is there any way I can get rid of this?"
"Not yet, Ethan. This is for your own safety", Piers replied. "But I promise you will, eventually."