Nineteen:

The Ghosts That Haunt

How did you fix a hurricane?

She'd wrecked his whole world when she came into his life. She'd blown down his defenses and left him in pieces. The pieces of him were back together but they didn't fit the way they should. Not anymore. She'd cycloned in and brought the rain, the lightning, the thunder. She'd blown him away with her naughty nature and her devilish little mouth. She'd cursed like a sailor and fucked like a porn star and gave shit like a man.

Jill wasn't just the best friend he'd ever had. She was the best person he knew. In the whole fucking world, she was the one who just…got him. Just got him. And he valued that more than anything else in his whole life.

The pieces of him didn't fit without her.

They were mirrors that reflected the truth of each other. They were checks and balances and blood and guts and honesty. They were what kept the other in line. She offered him the chance to explore his dark side and he gave her the steadfast dedication that no one in her life had ever offered. She'd yelled MORE when he'd touched her and he'd thrown her over the desk of their superior and sacrificed his entire career for her.

Whatever else was true, they were in it together.

He rolled up in front of the house and idled there. Jill started to get out and he said, "I don't want you to move out."

She turned back, surprised. "What?"

"I don't want you to move out. You're my best friend, Jill. I want you to stay."

They studied each other in the dreary morning light. The god damn rain never stopped in this stupid town. The spring was turning to summer and still the rain went on. The damn world was wet and green and growing.

Maybe this was how they grew too.

"Can we live together, date other people, and deal with that, Chris? Because that's what happens when we move on but keep living together. We move on."

The rain peppered the windshield. It cocooned around them. He sighed. "I didn't break things off with you to lose you, Jill."

"That's the dumbest thing anyone ever said…ever."

He laughed a little. "Hear me out. I know this won't be easy. At first, it's gonna suck a lot. But ending things, it's how I protect you."

"You're gonna piss me off with that hero shit, Red. Be careful here."

They held eyes.

"Ok. Ok. I hear you. I'm never a fucking misogynist with you, Jill. Ever. But I saw you on the ground with that guy on top of you and I knew it was my fault you were there. I can live with you with another man. I can deal with that. But I can't watch you die. Not because I loved you too much. I'm not fucking strong enough for that shit. Big tough he-man that I am? I can't be the reason you die. I won't survive it."

Jill studied his face. For the guy who lacked words, that was a fucking storybook of them. She wanted to rip open his shirt and lick his chest. She wanted to climb onto his lap and eat him. And because he'd stood there in the rain and nearly lost her, he wanted to run away and try to keep her safe. He was, as she'd always known, too good for her.

So, she did the right thing and let him go.

"So friends then?"

"Yes. Yeah. Always."

"I'll stay." She leaped out of the Bronco and ran toward the house.

He kept on sitting there, staring into the rain. She'd stay. But he wouldn't have her. Not really. Not anymore.

She changed clothes. She ran back out the door to go on a date with Kevin Ryman. He let her go. He joked. He laughed with her about it. He played her buddy. He did it well.

And he didn't run after her and drag her back to hold on.

And that was harder, maybe, than anything he'd ever done in his life.

That was how you stayed friends with Jill Valentine. You faked it until you made it. You faked it until it eventually became real. He was a good guy. He didn't hurt girls for no reason. He wanted her in his life.

And maybe this was how he kept her there and kept her safe.

A few weeks later, she started staying out all night. He knew what that meant. He knew what it meant for them as well. She was involved. It wasn't just dates now. It was a relationship.

They had fun together as always. She bugged his stall that he used for his morning "newspaper break". The whole station was subjected to the rousing fun of him taking a shit.

As he came out of the bathroom, someone applauded. And Kevin shouted, "Keep eating that fiber big guy!"

He high fived Jill over lunch.

He stole her little car one day and had it painted. When she heard the laughing, she looked out the window. Her pretty little bug was now a four wheeled ad for erectile dysfunction medication. She turned back to look at him at his desk.

"Seriously?" She queried.

"You like it?"

"Oh yeah. I'm keeping it."

It made him laugh and love her.

Because that part never changed. He kept right on loving her.

She came home one night about two a.m. to find Gia the witch on her couch. She was playing the zombie game. She was in his shirt and playing his playstation.

Jill thought about running to her room to cry. But instead she sat down beside the witch and played the game with her. Dog sat on the floor, judging her.

Jill liked Gia. She was nice. She was complimentary and friendly and intelligent. They got along like peas and carrots. There was no reason not to like Gia the witch.

Except that she was clearly, clearly, taking a ride on the freight train.

Chris came out of the kitchen with a beer. He paused, watching them together on the couch.

Gia grinned at him. "You ready?"

Chris glanced at Jill. They held eyes for a long moment. He finally smiled back. "Let's roll."

Jill watched them head off to his room. Don't move out, he'd said. How in the fucking hell was she supposed to sit there while he boned the witch? How did one be friends with the person they loved? Jesus.

She heard Gia start laughing. She heard the rumble of his voice answering her. There was no more laughing after that. None.

Jill rose from the couch. "I'm leaving for awhile Dog. You want to come?"

She took Dog running at 2 a.m. She ran through the park. She stopped to give ten bucks to Larry the homeless guy who slept on the bench. She covered him with his newspaper like a blanket. She left a clean pair of pants and shoes for him. It's what she did once a week.

She ran home just about the time Gia was leaving for work. She hesitated and went into the house after waving to her as she drove down the street. Chris was in the kitchen making coffee.

Jill, panting from running, poured Dog some food. She felt him watching her. He said, finally, "You want to talk about this?"

"No. Ever. Not ever. Good night." She went into her room and closed the door.

He leaned on the counter and cursed.

She whoopied Chris during a meeting with Chief Irons regarding the sting operation to arrest the leader of the cult of witches. He stood up, he addressed the room; he was commanding and engaging and charming. She could see the shimmer of command all over him like a misty veil. He'd lead men one day, she was sure of that. He didn't know any other way but to be in charge.

He was Wesker without the edge of emptiness she was always sensing around their captain. Chris would command out of love for his troops. Chris would command because he believed in what he was doing. He was such a big fucking hero. Jill was fucking in love with him so much it hurt.

And then he sat down in his chair.

And the sound of farting filled the quiet room.

Jill didn't even look up from her notebook as she kept right on jotting notes. But the room was laughing all around them. Wesker was watching her. She held his pale gaze. She could feel his judgment. She just wasn't sure what it meant.

Kevin took her out. Plenty. He was charming. Always. And always funny.

They played pool and he lost. They played darts and she lost…unless he was drinking and then he was horrible at it. They went swimming when the weather turned warm enough to allow it. They went on a picnic to the lake one day with Chris and Gia, Barry and his girls, Joseph and Maggie. Brad was there with a date…shockingly. It was fun. They went on innertubes down the river.

There was barbecue and hotdogs and beer. It was a good time. A great time. Dog had a blast in the water. She leaned against a tree and let Kevin kiss the shit out of her. It was great. She wasn't ready to hop into bed with him. Not yet. But she was enjoying the kissing.

On nights when Chris had Gia over, she found reasons to leave. She couldn't stick around and listen. She was doing her best to move on. But she wasn't ready to sit there and hear Gia squealing like a stuck pig. She wasn't that strong.

Jill stood at the top of the rise looking down into the water beneath the ragged cliff she was standing on. There was no hope for it. She had to jump. Everyone was waiting behind or below for her. Gia had jumped. Kevin had jumped. Barry and the girls were down there. Joseph and Maggie had jumped together. Brad hadn't bothered.

She was alone on the cliff with Chris.

He was the only person who knew how desperately afraid she was of falling to her death. It was her greatest fear. She had nightmares about it constantly. If she didn't jump, she'd be outed as a pansy. She'd be ridiculed and laughed at.

If Brad Vickers even ATTEMPTED to call her a coward, she'd brain him.

Chris watched her in that little bikini she wasn't even really wearing. Some blue and white idea of man's torture device. The little bottoms were string and sin. He stepped up beside her and looked down.

"Long drop."

"Hmm."

"Want me to push you?"

She turned her eyes to him. His eyes were shielded by polarized wrap glasses. His chest and stomach were all muscle and sunkissed bronze skin. Jill wanted to grab the feather fine dusting of hair on his upper chest and jerk him toward her for a kiss.

Annoyed, she stepped back from him.

It hurt him to see her do it.

"Just jump," She told him, "I'll do it in a minute."

"No way, Valentine. If I jump, you'll chicken out."

Irritated, Jill spun to face him again. They could hear all the laughter from down below. There was plenty of splashing. Someone kept calling up to them to hurry up. Probably Brad…the bastard.

"What do you care, Redfield? Go jump in to your girlfriend. Hurry up. Before she casts a spell on me out of jealousy."

Chris laughed a little. "How would that go exactly? Shit and double shit…double double toil and trouble…shit and bubble…"

Jill snorted and laughed. "I'd probably get the runs."

"It would be fair trade. Since you gave them to me once." He put his hand out to her. "Take it, Valentine. Man up. Let's do this."

"Man up. What a stupid phrase. I'm not a man."

He looked at her in that little bikini. Her toned tummy, her perfect thighs, those long, long, long legs. Her little bracelet on that ankle. Her little tattoo of a heart on the left hip. Clearly, it was a nod to her name: Valentine.

No. She wasn't a guy. Not even close.

That damn bikini could barely contain her breasts. The cool breeze on the rise had made them pointy beneath the triangles of cloth trying to hold them in. Chris shook himself like a dog coming out of the water.

"You don't jump, Brad will have the whole station laughing at you tomorrow. You know that."

Jill turned her back on him to look out into the trees. The sun was starting to set. They'd be packing it in soon and going home. The Raccoon Forest at the base of the Arklay mountains was teeming with the beginning of summer. She could hear crickets chirping.

"Go on and jump, Red. I'm going to do it. I swear. I just…need a minute."

"I'll wait."

She turned to face him again. "Is your girlfriend jealous of us?"

"Why would she be? We're just friends."

It wasn't the best answer. He saw that on her face. But it was the truth. Kinda. Sorta. Not really but kinda. Maybe. Shit.

"Yeah. Friends."

"Ryman doesn't seem to care about us being friends."

'He doesn't. No reason to."

"Exactly."

"Gia's probably happy taking a ride on the freight train so she doesn't give a fuck." Jill shivered from the breeze now and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Seems that way." He watched her, curious what she was about here. "Kevin's fucking a porn star. I'm sure he's just fine too."

Jill shook her head, laughing a little. "We're not fucking. Not yet. Not all of us jump into bed on the first day, you fucking lecher."

He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. What was she saying here? She wasn't sleeping with Ryman? She was gone three nights a week. She was clearly sleeping over. They weren't screwing? How was that even possible?

Was the dude gay? Blind? Impotent? What? How could you sleep next to her and not fuck her while she screamed? It made no sense.

"You're not fucking him?"

"No." She spun back to face him. "Is that such a big surprise? You think I'm a whore that just jumps into bed with whoever asks?"

Chris watched her face, trying to see what she was feeling. She was offended, clearly, and he was sorry for that. But it wasn't as if there was a man alive that would believe she was sleeping over and just sleeping. It was insane. "No. No, I don't."

"We're dating, Redfield…you asshole. That doesn't mean screwing."

….really? Chris stared at her, dumbfounded. "It doesn't?"

"Not all the time. No. We're getting to know each other. That means talking, you idiot. Not everyone throws their giant cock into a girl and expects her to be happy with that. Intimacy. I'm sure you've heard of it."

Chris tucked his tongue in his cheek. "I'm familiar with the concept. Vaguely. You're having long conversations and what? Romance? With Kevin Ryman?"

"…yeah. So?"

"With Kevin RYMAN. The guy who once tried to light his own farts on fire and singed his butt hair."

Jill shook her head.

"The guy who confessed to bonging so much beer that he passed out on the floor of a random bar, possibly was rufied by a girl…or a dude…and woke up in a field with a cow. Was the cow his girlfriend for the night? We still don't know."

They held gazes. Finally, Jill started laughing.

"Kevin Ryman whom, under the watchful eye of the entirety of J's Bar, engaged in a belching contest with Jim Chapman and spontaneously threw up from it?"

Jill kept on laughing.

"The guy who recently drew a penis on the face of his coworker when they fell asleep at their desk…in permanent marker. THAT guy is romantic?"

Jill put her hand to her chest and laughed. It felt so good to laugh. She hadn't laughed in so long. Not like that. That was his power for her. Always had been. Nobody made her laugh like Chris Redfield. And then she put her hand on his arm while she did it.

And she hadn't touched him in almost two months now.

"Alright! I get it! But he's so sweet. He really is."

"But you're not sleeping with him."

"No. No, I'm not."

He watched her face when she stopped laughing finally and rubbed his arm. It was a good feeling. He'd missed her so much. More than just her body. He'd missed this. This easy laughter.

Chris held her gaze now and said, "You hard up?"

Something tingled her belly a little. "You offering?"

"I'm seeing someone. You're seeing someone. But she's not my girlfriend. He's not your boyfriend. It's not against the rules. Right?"

The wind tickled their faces. "You think those rules still apply?"

"You saying they don't?"

Down below, someone was laughing like a donkey. There was loud splashing. And Joseph was shouting up to them now to hurry up. Brad was making calls about chicken licken fricken or something. Someone was whistling.

Jill finally answered him, "I don't poach other girl's guys, Redfield."

"I'm not her guy."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm yours. I'm still your guy, Jill. I just can't be your man. What that means? I don't fucking know what that means. But I'm still your guy. Unless he is."

They held gazes again. Two different shades of blue. It was a dangerous answer she could give him. But she gave it.

"He's not my guy." It was whisper soft.

"Yeah. Shit." His arm looped around her waist to pull her into him. Her arms wrapped around his neck. It was a good hug. He squeezed her. She put her face against his neck.

Jill made some sound like she'd start crying.

He shook his head, hard. "Don't. Don't. If you do, I will. And I'll NEVER live that down."

And now she laughed, a little wetly, against him.

Down below, someone hit the trigger of an air horn. And a used a megaphone to shout up to them.

"WE KNOW YOU ARE STILL UP THERE! JUMP NOW OR WE WILL TELL EVERYONE IN THE RPD THAT YOU ARE BOTH CHICKENS."

Did they think they were twelve years old?

Seriously.

He said, softly, "We should probably jump."

"We should. We should just jump. Rip off the band-aid."

"No anesthesia."

"No anesthesia." She whispered it.

Her hand shifted to the side of his face. It turned him toward her. Chris made some sound and she nuzzled their faces together. He turned, just a little, and put his tongue into her mouth. Jill made a little desperate moan.

How was this helping anything?

His hand slid into her bikini top and covered her breast. Yep. Definitely not helping. This was not in the new guidelines for friendship. Nope.

Jill pulled away a little. "We should…"

"Yep…yeah. Stop."

"Mmm. Yeah. Stop is good."

"Yep. Just…"

"…yeah." Her tongue plunged into his mouth as she shifted and he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands slid into her bikini bottoms. There was no freight train here. This? This was what desperate longing felt like.

It was needy and raw.

And it hurt them both to do it. And felt right. And scared her.

Because she was pretty sure being friends with someone was impossible when you were in love with them. And she was. She so was. She was in love with her best friend. A complicated mess on a good day, this was made worse because if they didn't stop what they were doing and someone saw them? It would hurt more than just them.

She leaped off him and he let her.

"Fuck." She whispered.

He watched her. "We could."

And now she shook her head at him. "Stop it. Stop. You ended it. You. For god's sake, Redfield, stick to your guns here. In or out."

Annoyed that she was right and he was the girl in this moment, chasing after the one that got away, Chris cursed. He nodded a little. "Shit. I want to be in, Jill. I want to be in you."

Oh. His dirty mouth. It worked every time.

"I went all in. All in. And out...and in again."

They stared at each other. They both pictured it. Her nipples said she liked it. He moved to grab her and she backed away.

"Stop it. That's not helping."

"Against the rules?"

"How the hell do I know what the rules are anymore? You have to back off I think. I can't get over you if you don't back off. And you pulled the plug here. I'm just trying to figure that part out."

Chris nodded, nodded again, and paced away. "What if…" He hesitated and plunged ahead, "What if I asked for a transfer to Bravo?"

"..what?"

"I could transfer to Bravo. Then…we wouldn't work together anymore."

Her heart was pounding. So hard. It hurt. "You want to get away from me?"

"No!" That scared them both since he pretty much shouted it. She jumped, "Sorry. No. I meant…what if I transferred to Bravo so we could do this. We could be together. Maybe if I transferred."

She stared at him. She stared at him while a bird called somewhere in the distance. "You want to tank your career to be with me?" It sounded so stupid to hear it out loud.

"No. Just…maybe I could j—"

"Let's jump." She passed by him, breathing so hard she was afraid she was going to cry. "Let's just jump down now."

Chris grabbed her arm. "Wait. Hey. What?"

Jill shook him loose. She stared at him again. "You are meant to do this, Chris. I saw that in that meeting the other day. You are meant to lead men and battle the dark and win. You're a hero. Or you will be. It's what you do. And you want to take a step down to the B-Team. For what? For the thief's daughter? Don't be stupid. Don't. I won't be the reason you fail. I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen."

"I don't understand what that means, Jill. What are you saying here?"

"You're better than me. Or Joseph. Or Barry. Or Brad." She held his gaze. And said it. For both of them, "You might one day be better than Wesker. He leads and men follow. Because he's smart and commanding. But you? You'll lead and men will WANT to follow you, Chris. Because you're good. You're good in your bones. You're made to lead. I won't be the reason you don't. I won't."

She shook her head at him again. "You were right. You were so right. We can't be together. We wouldn't just kill each other. We'd destroy each other. You're worried about getting me killed? There's more than one way to die. I'd kill you just as easily if I torched your career. You are not the guy who rides a desk in the RPD to retirement. That's not you. Don't you get it? This fucking town isn't where your career goes to die. You're too good for that. I won't be the reason you fail."

Humbled, scared, and crazy about her, Chris tried to take her hand, "Jill…I love you. I can't do anything but that."

"I know. I know that." She grabbed his face and held it. "I know it. But you were right. We are doing ok here. Let's keep doing ok. Eventually? We'll get back to being friends. Move on with Gia. I'll move on with Kevin. And we'll be ok."

"I don't want you to move on with fucking Kevin. I want you to move on top of me."

Jill laughed, so sad, so sad for him. "You dirty lecher."

"Jill...I don't know what to say."

He grabbed her wrists and turned his face into her hand. She stroked his hair. "Me either. I don't know what's left to say, Chris."

"You love me?"

So, there was something left to say after all.

She went into his arms for the answer to that. And hugged him like she'd take pieces of him with her when she left. They clung and finally separated.

"I love you, you big squish. I love you." And she turned. Terrified of falling, it turned out she needed the right incentive to jump.

Apparently, she needed the incentive of getting away from him.

She leaped over the edge toward the water and tumbled, listening to the cheers of those below. He remained on the cliff, feeling the hammer of his heart for her. Too good for this, she'd said. Too good for me is what she meant.

It was the first moment he realized that being Chris Redfield might mean picking the fight over the girl. Maybe the hero saved the day and didn't get the girl. Maybe it meant he'd lead men…alone. And she was telling him the world needed him.

The world needed Chris Redfield.

And Chris Redfield needed the girl.

But she'd leaped over a cliff to let him go. And he was still standing there….holding on to the ghost of Jill Valentine.