It should have been over, but Chris lay awake at night, wondering. The Wesker children were liberated, yes, but Spencer was still out there, as well as Marcus and Ashford (well, one of them), so while the name Umbrella might be done what was to stop them from trying again elsewhere? Would they start over? Would Spencer give up on his Project W entirely and merely focus on his search for immortality through Progenitor viruses?

Or… what was to stop them from continuing the project as is?

Chris went cold at the thought despite his mound of blankets. The children had been released into the world sometime in their teens to seek out their own paths, what if all Chris had done was move that release date up?

The staff had fled and left the children behind. Children who followed orders and did not resist when the RPD came to take them away.

(Except Albert. Had he attacked them in defense or was it as Alex said in that he was actually trying to get away and Gary just happened to be blocking the door?)

If he was right, then Umbrella could come back for the Wesker children later. Wesker was part of the team that developed the T-virus but that didn't mean its creation was off the table. What had Chris really changed? It was possible, he realized with growing horror, that he actually made things worse.

If creation of the T-virus or any other Progenitor derivative went ahead and the children were once again exposed to it, they would all die except Albert. But last time Wesker faked his death and abandoned Umbrella, what if this time he remained in Spencer's hands? Would the conditioning of his youth still hold? Would he obey?

God, Wesker was in his late thirties when he was infected. If given a chance at a normal life, would he have a family? Would they too be exposed not only to danger but the virus itself?

Scenarios looped through Chris' brain over and over throughout the night until he couldn't stand it anymore and raided his fridge for a beer. He rarely drank anymore but now and again he needed his mind to just stop. One wasn't going to cut it, or even two.

He'd hate himself later but for now he welcomed the inebriation. He needed someone to talk to but there was no one who understood. He missed everyone. Barry, Jill… shit, he'd just gotten Jill back only to lose her again because he somehow got lost himself.

He hoped Claire was doing alright…

The social services of Raccoon City had found its necessity after the loss of the mines years ago when hundreds lost their livelihoods and required assistance until the construction of the electric trams opened up possibilities. They had a child services office that had been formed to deal with the children of families who could no longer afford to care for them and the occasional case of abuse but for the most part they relied on neighboring towns for assistance. Rarely did a child that had to be removed from the home get to stay in town.

The understaffed office had not been prepared for twelve mentally abused children to be dumped on them and it showed as Chris walked in the door. The bell attached to the door didn't bring anyone to the front desk and after a few minutes he rattled it again himself. He was about to call out when a haggard looking woman poked her head out. She gave a large sigh of relief when she saw him.

Mrs. Ryan and Chris did not know each other per se, but they were familiar enough through work and the police had been working closely with child services over the matter of the Wesker children for the last couple of days.

"Sorry, Officer," she said, inviting him back into the offices, "we've been harassed all day by the newspaper hoping to get more about the 'cult children', so I've been hoping anyone showing up would just… go away." She sounded a bit sheepish on that last part but he didn't blame her. Small town journalists were no less tenacious than their big city contemporaries and this was the biggest event in Raccoon City since… well, her own hiring.

Social progress moved slowly despite the civil rights movement and many in the town were displeased with social services hiring a black woman into their child services department, but what the hell were they going to do about it. The one brick that had been thrown through the window she merely picked up and took home to add to her garden wall. Fortunately the vitriol died down to occasional grumbling soon after and people went on with their lives. That was years ago.

"I don't see you out of uniform often," she said, pausing at a rickety table with a coffeemaker on it and offering him a cup.

"I'm off duty right now." He took the coffee and downed it. It wasn't good but he needed the caffeine.

She paused and regarded him warily. "Then why are you here?"

"I was part of the team that got those kids out, so I just wanted to make sure they were doing okay. I feel like I need to see this through."

Last he'd heard the Wesker children had been put up in some rooms in the nearby motel and were under rotating watch. They were essentially in lockdown, both for others' sake as well as their own. Journalists had been trying to snap photos or get a few words in since the whole mess had become public.

Mrs. Ryan nodded and took him back to her office. A few others were hustling about with paperwork or talking on phones.

"I mean, if you're busy I don't want to take up your time…" he started.

"It's all right. Whatever I tell you you can still pass on to the department. Cops are never really off duty."

He couldn't argue with that and took the offered seat before she started rummaging around in her desk.

"Fortunately our neighbors' departments have been more than helpful and we've already managed to track down the families of most of the children."

"Seriously? That's great!"

"Yes, it turns out they are children of notable or influential people, so there was a quite a to-do about their disappearances. One popped up pretty quick and from there we were able to narrow down the search based on when that kidnapping occurred. They were all taken at around the same time. Their families are being contacted now."

"You said that most of the kids though."

"Three are still unknowns. We're still looking but information can only travel so fast."

It was times like this that Chris really missed the internet and police networks, but this was better than he could have imagined. Not only for the children who could be returned to normal lives but for these families who lost their loved ones.

He should have let it go there but there was an insistent niggling in the back of his brain. See it through, it said. He sighed.

"What about Albert?" The children had eventually given up their names at the realization they weren't going back to the mansion at all.

Mrs. Ryan looked up from her papers. "Albert?"

"The little blond angry one. He was the one who attacked us with a machete, I just want to make sure his family knows what to expect."

"Oh him," she flipped through her files, "He's one of the three who have yet to be properly identified. Supposedly the children were taken from all over so it's possible those three are foreign but we won't know until we can get proper identification. Turns out the children were given new names when they were brought to the mansion." She paused and glanced at Chris, "Really? A machete?"

Chris shrugged. "Cult kids, what can you do?"

"Yeah, the officers watching over his group are unnerved by him. Apparently he stands on the bed so he can look them in the eye and whispers about how he's going to kill them."

Chris shook his head. He shouldn't be surprised. "So what'll happen to those three if you can't find their families?"

"We don't have the ability to handle them here. They'll be sent to neighboring towns and put into foster care or nearby orphanages."

It wasn't unexpected and yet Chris still felt himself grip the arms of the chair in frustration. A chance away from Umbrella was still a chance but considering the Wesker children's inherent intelligence coupled with their brainwashing, putting Albert Wesker in a potentially unstable environment such as foster care to be passed around could end just as disastrously. An orphanage would be no better; the boy was going to need individual watching and care.

If his family wasn't found Wesker was going to get buried in the system. He would be impossible for Chris to find should the worse happen but he had no doubt Spencer could use his influence to track him down. And what kind of man would he find?

All that Chris had done would be for nothing. Wesker needed to be watched and guided to ensure he would not grow up into the man Chris remembered, and Chris was the only one who knew what to look for in that, was the only one aware that the stakes were higher than a boy's life.

He was the only one.

"I'll take him," he said, and despite his newest revelation he still surprised himself by saying it.

"What?"

"I'll take him," it was more confident this time, a new purpose unfurling inside Chris followed by a rush of certainty, "if you can't find Albert's family. I know what he's capable of and this kid needs proper care."

"Mr. Redfield, that is a generous offer but I don't… shouldn't you ask your… Are you married?"

"No. No, there's no one."

Mrs. Ryan sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Redfield. It's kind of you to offer, but Child Services isn't going to hand over a special-needs child to a single man with a dangerous career. Not to mention you aren't even registered or trained to be a foster parent."

"I lost my parents when I was young and practically raised my little sister. I can handle it." He'd had more than one scare himself with social services; if he'd hadn't learned to manage quickly Claire would have been taken away from him, and with the recent loss of his mom and dad that was simply not an option. It was also a reminder that nothing in life was a certainty, not even his own ability to watch out for Claire, and he'd started teaching her how to take care of herself in hand-to-hand combat and weapons training in case something happened to him. Considering how things turned out he was thankful for that foresight every damn day after he'd heard about what happened to Raccoon City and Claire getting caught up in it.

Chris continued, "Give me whatever applications you need done and courses I need to take, I'll do them…"

"Mr. Redfield," Mrs. Ryan interrupted, and Chris could hear the frustration starting to rise as well as the disappointment, "It's not just all that. I do not want these children to remain within a few miles of the place where they have spent their whole lives being abused, do you understand? The system isn't perfect and despite the horror stories you may have heard the majority of people in foster care want what is best for the children they look after and are doing their best."

"I know."

She sighed. "I'll do whatever I can to ensure that if the last three children remain unidentified that they'll go where they can be given proper attention, alright?"

Chris nodded, thanked Mrs. Ryan for the coffee and her time, and then left. He should have gone home or even back to the station considering his sudden restlessness, and yet he kept walking, meandering around the town center unaware as his thoughts spun.

The idea had taken root and now wouldn't go away. He needed to take in Albert Wesker and raise him. It was a stupid idea and yet the only one that would ensure the grim future of his time never came to pass, one way or another.

Either he would bring up Wesker to be a normal man free of Umbrella's ambitions or, if men could truly be born evil and never change, then Wesker would be close that Chris could end that evil before it gained any power.

The thought made him stop on the sidewalk and stare at the ground in horror. Could he do it if it came to that? Why not, he already had, and for the sake of the thousands that would die if he did nothing…

He would do everything in his power to avoid that outcome, but if it came to that, yes. One way or another, time was going to change.

While Chris didn't visit Mrs. Ryan again he continued to prod for information about the children, mostly through Orellana, and the last thing he heard confirmed that Albert remained unidentified. He had to make his move before the kid was shipped off to somewhere else and while he didn't like this plan of his it was the only one he had outside of kidnapping.

He stuck his head into Chief Lowe's office with a friendly smile and was met by a tired sigh.

"What did Mateo do now?"

"Huh?"

"If you're talking to me directly and not through Captain Orellana then he must have done something to warrant you going over his head."

It was a not-so-subtle reminder to Chris that there was a chain of command to follow, but in this case he figured it was time for another direct intervention.

"No, the Captain's fine. I mean he's a bit pissed off 'cause we're all having a laugh at him because he tried dyeing his hair again like we all don't know he's going grey but…"

"Redfield!"

"I wanted to talk to you about one of the cult kids, sir."

Lowe glared at Chris. "Just when I was about to forget that mess for five damned minutes… I'm a busy man."

"Sir, one of the kids, Albert, is one of the ones that remain unknown. He's got no family, so I would like to take him in, but Child Services won't let me."

"What the hell does this have to do with me?"

"I was hoping that maybe with a good word put in from you…"

"Redfield," Lowe began, his voice casual but the rising anger was unmistakable, "Child Services knows their job; they are professionals and know a lot damned more about handling these kids than you. If you've been rejected then there is a damned reason. Now let it go and let these people do their jobs, let me do mine, you do yours, and do not come in this office again thinking you can use me as your personal leverage!"

Chris was unfazed by the chief's anger but decided to try another approach. "Sir, you believe me about the time traveling thing, don't you?"

Another sigh followed by Lowe pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Barely. And that's only because you successfully predicted when the Beatles were going to break up and when Nixon was going to drop the voting age. This whole thing with the kids didn't help, but I'm sure if I really looked into it there'd be a logical explanation for how you knew these things and frankly I'm almost afraid to do so because those explanations wouldn't shed good light on you. Maybe you were involved with the capture of these kids in the first place… Is that what's behind your sudden interest in this kid?"

"There is a reason. Do you remember when I told you all those kids were going to die except one?"

"Vaguely."

"The truth is I knew about this whole Wesker project because back in my time… in the future… I knew the one survivor as an adult. Albert Wesker. We worked together. None of us knew at the time about his past, he kept to himself, but eventually he lost it. A lot of people got hurt. We eventually found out about Project W and when I found myself in this time I thought if I could change things…"

"That's what all this is about?"

"It was about saving those kids, sir, and there is much more but I don't think I should go talking about the future any more than I have to. I thought getting the children out would be enough but seeing Albert again and realizing he has no home and family to go back to… I can't leave it as is."

Lowe took a moment staring at his folded hands. He reached down and opened a drawer, pulling out a flask and taking an uncaring swig in front of Chris before returning it to its home. "You've already changed the course of history. The children will be taken care of, so why does it matter?"

Why indeed. The chief was right in that Child Services knew their job and would do the best they could but it wasn't enough. The way Wesker had looked, small but determined and yet, barely noticeable in the excitement, fearful, but also absolutely miserable when reunited with his 'siblings'. Why did it matter?

But Lowe didn't give him a chance to answer before he continued. "So what happened to this man?"

Chris shrugged, "Like I said, he just... lost it. I don't know how much were his own actions and how much had to do with his conditioning... I don't even think he knew what he was doing in the end."

"You were involved in his take-down, weren't you," Lowe said like he already knew the answer.

"He was dead anyway."

Exposing himself to Oroboros had been Wesker's last desperate act. He had nothing left: no allies, no grand scheme, and perhaps the extra dose of serum was already killing him. He'd put everything into Oroboros and his stupid new world plan and that failed. All he'd had left was killing Chris.

"So why does this matter to you? Why does he?"

Why?

"Because I thought he was a good man, but it was a lie. I was hoping that, maybe given the chance, he could be."

The silence in the office stretched out too long and Chris felt exposed, vulnerable, but it was the truth and he couldn't, wouldn't take it back.

"I can't promise anything, Redfield, but I'll see what I can do."