Chris was the first to wake up, and for the first time late. It had been years almost a decade since he'd slept in later than the rise of the sun. He took a good look at his Piers, still strewn on the blanket beside him with his chest heaving for struggled breaths. He worked hard to get this far, and after hearing the things he had the previous night, all his conviction to continue the fight. It wasn't impossible to imagine the nightmares. But he didn't want to wake him, so carefully, he released Piers from his grasp, hugged into the crook of his thick bulged bicep and cobra like forearm; and covered him up with a blanket. Chris could see that Piers was still sleeping, despite be jostled, beads of sweat hugging his face as he curled inward; sparks of electric dancing over the young man's taut abdomen. One last look at him, and he put on some pants to go outside. Chris closed his stony eyes and took the time to think about everything that had happened recently. So much had happened in such a short amount time and everything in turn had been dropped on it's head. Turned upside down, until he could just barely make out every important detail. He just wanted to run; get away from everything. As a soldier, Chris Redfield would never had considered turning his back on his fellow soldiers and leaving them to rot. Or to allow the bad guys to roam free and use America as their petri dish, however upon infection? The fight or flight instinct had forever drifted toward fight which in the natural order would have veered opposite for a normal man. Cowardice. That was how he'd seen it. Even to the point where he and his sniper had gone through hell just to rescue the son of the man he had spent a lifetime trying to off, only to loose Piers in the last minutes of their mission. It was hard to say, but he did loose him. For those few seconds, watching the Haos turn his body to ashes and the torment on his partner's face. Death took the one person he'd spent a lifetime trying to find, and only then did he realize it. But then the injection had occurred. The mutation. After that he was truly lost. Not in the sense one would imagine; Chris had brought him home, despite attempts to kill himself, but he was never the same. The voices in his head, the fear to leave his soldier alone with himself. The sudden disappearance that had made the young man everything he wanted... was gone. He was distanced, torn apart by the virus that raged through his body and he fought to contain. He had him back, finally. They could connect again, see one another for who they really were, and of all the things, Chris couldn't imagine loosing that now, not after everything they'd been through together.

There wasn't a question anymore of fight or flight. There was only Piers; and Chris wanted to take his lover far away and never look back after what happened at the Quarantine Facility. After what they'd done to him; and what was most likely what the boy was dreaming about in the rooms secluded..., but Piers refused. Chris even opened up his mind and soul to Piers…showing him why he wanted them to get away from it all, and his Piers refused. His sweet Piers wanted to fight the good fight and fix all of the corruption in the world that Chris revealed to him. Piers was so stubborn, but Chris loved him for it. 'I guess someone has to keep me in line and Piers has always done that.' Even in the field, Piers was always there to make sure his Captain stayed on the right path, prodding his sense of morality, and even going so far as to use the deaths of their team mates to remind him who he was suppose to be. But now, things are different. The B.S.A.A. will come after them. They may send headhunters or a special squad after them due to him being a traitor and Piers being considered as a prized lab rat. Piers' conviction had never become a problem for him before, since they were always running in the same directions. First Edonia, China, now here. But he'd never questioned it before, why it was the sniper seemed so Hell bent on saving the world from itself. He knew what it had to do with. That shining record and countless gold stars in his files, with the blotted out words from Black Ops, and a family history that didn't exist. He never had a reason to question all of that until now, until it suited his purpose. Chris had a good idea about what may happen here and he was not worried for himself. He knew that thanks to the virus, it was unlikely that physical torture would even affect him, but there were worse things in like than physical pain. Chris also knew there were no cures for either of them, so this situation, whatever one they were in, it was permanent. Piers had this tenacity to think he could fix everything and now that they were facing opposite ways, now that he wanted to cut and run, Chris couldn't help but wonder why it was Piers couldn't turn his back on the atrocities he claimed a right to fix. What would hurt Chris would be the pain Piers would go through if they were captured. 'Heaven help them if my Piers gets tortured again. I will kill them all.' The sounds of his partner rustling where he was reached his ears speedily, knowing the unique hum that the younger man let off before grimacing at the scorches that lined him from his night terror. Better off not leaving him there that way, alone, so he opened his eyes and went back inside. Both men would need to clean up before starting their day, before setting themselves to the task of readying for this war.

Piers was up after Chris was, and a startle came from it sure, since Piers had lived by his natural body clock since he was a child, yet here he was sleeping through the night with the captain's arms around him. At least that's what he thought... the dreams he had woke him with a start, jerking his body awake as his muscles contracted in around the thirty needles inserted into his body slowly withdrawn by the scientists who put them there to begin with, syringes pumping him full of a thousand serums. Nightmares... only a nightmare. For a minute he thought he'd been back in the facility, their hands prying the skin from his body. Muscles, sinew and tendons cut down to the bone to observe the level of regeneration his form could reconstruct. Lightning had dug scores in his flesh, along with deep gouges where he'd clawed his own body in his sleep. Sitting up from the 'nest' the captain had made around him, finally dragged himself up off the blankets nude, the chill of the morning bringing more attention to his naked state, looking at the healed cuts and scrapes and his olive skin soft and new over that mutated extremity. He hated it... the way his fresh skin appeared like that of an eel, mucus slick and compelling him to take a knife to it and gore it from his body just to feel normal. That arm never felt right on him, not after China. Sounds from below alerted him to his partner's presence; a small unconscious smile worked over his features before swallowing down all his feelings for the man and reaching for the bag Chris had packed of clothing. Sliding on regs to wear that clung tight to his thighs and hugged his hips well; along with a shirt that accented his muscled lean form, he couldn't help but take note of the fact that his captain was a terrible judge of sizes. Of course Chris would pick him his tightest clothing imaginable. He shook his head, sliding into duty boots as well. He was efficient and speedy, throwing open the door to the bedroom and descending the staircase all the way to the basement without ceasing to check for his commander; searching for, and finding rigging for himself , hopping with ease upon the counter top that he tucked his leg up and hugged his knee in atop. Slipping it around his upper thigh first, before working the second around the same area only inches below. A ritual he had had since he was a little boy. What five year old is trained to set up rigging for their person, and trained to do it until it hurt? He tightened the straps, feeling them cinch around the muscle until it bit his skin tugging tight upon taut limbs, shaking his head to reprieve from the memory. Damn Chris for having brought up his past. He sufficiently had dismissed it all until his Captain had mentioned so insistently he say something, like a revelation had come to him. The strap was digging into the fabric over his thigh to gnaw some pain surely cutting off some circulation there before snapping back to reality.

No doubt the captain heard these actions as Chris went upstairs to get dressed for the day, noting the absence of his long lost sniper. He could hear his Piers get prepared for the day whilst he got dressed himself. Taking a few seconds in a mirror, rough callouses prodded at the shoulder muscle that Piers' claws had sunk into prior that night. Flexing the muscle, it was clear the skin was no longer compromised and noticed that his 'normal' skin grew back almost instantly overnight. He went to his bag and took out a shirt along with socks and his combat boots. Upon getting dressed, Chris went downstairs to the basement to grab a 9-0-9 handgun, a combat knife, an overkill amount of ammo, and an assault rifle. It was an old habit of his to be prepared no matter where he was. When they were kids, Chris use to stockpile weapons and he recalled his sister Claire berating him for it. His reasons were always a lopsided grin and a chuckle about wanting to be prepared when the zombies took over the earth. Fuck you too karma. He knew Piers ritualistic routines, memorized since the day he'd partnered with the younger man. His easy to read want for security was a sure bet to find him where he placed his sniper rifle the night before to scope the area, so Chris decided to go outside and aid the endeavor as well; using his senses to check the area out; whilst his ears picked up the sounds of combat boots and graceful movements collecting the weapon in the upper story window and checking it over out of habitual nature. Taken apart and put back together, as though in the night some invisible creature would sneak in, pull the firing pin, and vanish.

Chris was visible still from the newly refurbished weapon in Piers' clutches, able to admire it cradled it like a lover as Piers one eyed the captain from his distance, gauging the specs and accuracy by following the target he knew best. Watching the older man concentrating, his eyes were like an eagle's, taking in the sight before him much like he had many times before, from a dozen missions that replicated these circumstances. At least his still hazel eye was sharp, the same could not be said of the moonlit silver; ego bruising and completely useless unless he was overloaded with electricity. There were so many issues with surveillance on this location, too many weak points that left it wide open to attack; but using his own senses properly and Chris' enhanced ones, it was easier to manage than without. It made it all the more horrifying when chopper blades thrummed in the distance, bouncing off the trees and side walls of their 'secret' hideaway. Lying prone just inside the window, his body tightened every muscle, eyes trained on the horizon through the scope. Fuck they were prompt. B.S.A.A.'s Special Operations Unit was infamous for their timing, down to the letter, and even though he'd had hoped for more time to talk through his plan, or lack there of. It wasn't underestimated of their men to come searching in tow... Well..., they had to go in sometime, better sooner than later, and better now than never. Walker would say that after every mission they'd had together; referring of course to having a good woman, but it reminded how far now they were from the S.O.U. and then men they'd fought to protect. Now the tables had turned, and men like Andy Walker, and Finn Macauley were the one's who were hunting their own. Using the scope, he slid both himself and the rifle coiled in his hands to a knee, dirt clinging like a fine layer of camouflage to his fatigues and front; carefully observing the progress the chopper made, without seeing it. It was heard before visible, but with training like theirs it came into view of his single eyed mistress within seconds of its alert. Had his rifle been a woman he'd be giving her skin a coating of goosebumps with his finger curling and uncurling, itching poised at the trigger. His second hand pushed back along his outer thigh, sightlessly taking hold of the grip guard of his once standard issued 9-0-9. Dropping eyes once toward his captain; he delicately raised the gun, squeezed the trigger once, letting the sound echo for his Captain, as well as a warning shot for those on the chopper with good enough hearing to recognize it. Contain yourself; these are your men Nivans. Be patient.

Chris heard the chopper blades a moment before Piers did and then the gunshot from his Piers. Ever the vigilant soldier, giving those bastards a fair warning instead of letting them walk into a bullet meant for their eye. If they could have wanted, they would have had this place rigged up for taking down an army with the skill between them. They were both well trained in the inner workings of the Special Operations Unit, meaning this was standard for them, but both let it play out because of what? Because Piers wouldn't approve of the killing. Not of men he served along. Such a moral compass on that young man, and all Chris wanted was his safety. How completely fitting of his Piers. The captain resigned from his thoughts, and opened his eyes. It was time for action, ready or not. Extra ammo had been available and before ever exiting the basement he had brought up more than a bountiful amount for himself and Piers, along with some grenades that clung to his side now in preparation of this moment. 'Damn, they had to move in this quickly. Punctual goddamn bastards. I cannot fail Piers, I will protect him!' "Be careful, soldier." Chris muttered it from his position with a glance up at to the man he loved, locking eyes with those mismatched and his own stained red. He should have given him one more kiss, something passionate so Piers knew just how much the young man meant to him, no matter what happened to them. He hoped Piers knew what he was doing, in his opinion, this was at best, a terrible idea. Chris decided to meet the enemy head on.

He was a juggernaut, a force of pure physical nature and there wasn't a damned thing the B.S.A.A. could do to truly hurt him unless they got to Piers. Chris was ready to fight to the death, to fight to their deaths and steal away with the Bioterrorist task-force in a litter of ruin behind him. It was certainly interesting to Piers seeing Chris the way he was now. How nothing else seemed to matter but his own personal security, and he knew it wasn't entirely him, but the virus that had connected them. Knowing that, he wondered for a brief moment, why then that it didn't have the same properties with himself. Piers had always been drawn to the Captain Chris Redfield. Within the moments of his own dying breaths he had surpassed his own will to live, in exchange for knowing he could save the Captain with the injection that had been thrust so readily into his mangled shoulder. But after the serum within the syringe had done its damage he was no different inside other than the resentment he had grown to take on everyone, a result of his own hated reflection of himself. He was a soldier first, and a lover second. He sighed out, watching Chris go, but didn't think another second on it, slipping out of his position to grip the frame of the window and yank it open all the way. If he wanted to be stealthy he could have left it closed, give them less of a heads up. However, the idea wasn't stealth. Stepping out onto the adjoined roof, that met beneath his feet. Mismatched eyes caught a view of those men that had once served beside them and instantly his heart froze, losing the conviction he always carried into battle. Those people were completely innocent. His brothers- in-arms. Could he really open fire on these good men? He was after all, the man who never missed. Once he pulled the trigger there would be no going back from death that he left in its wake. So the question was..., how badly did he want to fight back, and how willing was he to go in? Because the decision made now would affect everyone here. The lives of the many always reigned victor in the mind of the soldier, clutching hold on the rifle butt that pressed firm into the junction of his shoulder. Deliberation. They better be ready for this.


Jill winced when she saw the predatory sheen of the reflective glass of the sniper scope on agent Nivans' rifle raise. He let them land that was for certain, or they were being led on. Chopper blades died down, setting down in a small clearing just four miles short of their destination but with their training, four miles meant shit. Chris' sniper could easily peg a chopper from from that distance, even Chris himself could have landed the shot with the set up they had before them, but instead their team was being led through the trees. Running with the gun poised at the ready, slipping up behind bark clad trees, one after another for a good deal of time, the team moved like a segmented snake, following orders against their own Captain and Assistant Team Leader. She was banking on a few things, leading them through like this rather than in formation, the most important being that it was Chris calling the shots on the ground. They'd been partners for so long, and this was his own men, so with the most Chris would be less likely to open active fire against them without some lengthy words had between old partners. That left the captain's short temper out of the equation, a temper she knew he had. She would have been deluding herself if she had pretended anything different considering Chris had been willing to let Albert Wesker fly off on a mission to infect the world because of his concern for her, rather than chase him. If she hadn't yelled at him to follow the would be god, then this would be a different story now. So yes, Chris had a volatile temper at best, but they were partners to the end. That left one other thing. Unless Piers was completely out of his mind there was no way the man would kill his own. Piers Nivans was the all-American boyscout sine his employment with the B.S.A.A. Never out of turn, lacking convictions, fortitude, bravery. He dared match Chris' lethal temper in the field, and questioned orders he knew endangered the lived of his men. That kid had infected himself for Chris just to save a man from China rather than come home alone from their mission. A fact that to this day Jill was always grateful for, but he and the ex-partner had never really gotten along. She was going to have to guilt him into coming in, rather than doing whatever 'right thing' he'd gotten into that delusional brain of his.

Chris was her priority, despite what the higher ups said. Alpha Team could take care of Piers, he wouldn't hurt them out of moral obligation, lucky for them. But Chris Redfield was her old partner, and she wasn't going to let anyone hurt them. Easier said than done, but she wouldn't have it. "Sniper up top." Piers made himself a target there, but kid was brilliant. The B.S.A.A. gave Alpha unit orders, ones that the sniper had clearly already anticipated. That he was to be brought in alive, meaning unless he shot off a round into someone's face from his position with rifle trained on them, then no one was going to fill him with holes. Cocky little son of a bitch. "Don't open fire on him unless he draws the first shot, but don't give him a reason to shoot you. Use your heads. Get him down, and bring him in. I'll take care of Redfield." These two were some of Special Operation's best soldiers and the most well versed in security protocols since they'd both worked as captains at some points in their career. Chris for and extended period of time. This was much more difficult than a simple snatch and grab, made more annoying by the fact that these two agents were well versed in procedure and using it to give themselves field advantage. Well she'd use whatever advantage she could get and she had a better one than boy wonder had. She had been Chris' partner, and if she took him in, Piers would drop that toy gun of his without orders. She couldn't risk some valiant-hearted agent taking a shot at the captain either, that was another thing to consider. He was never very careful with himself, the litany of scars was the testament to that, but she couldn't afford his bravery right now. Just come in safely and everything would be fine.


Chris spotted Alpha Team, his team, the one he'd raised and created from the bottom up sine his first days in making the S.O.U., and his old partner Jill. The B.S.A.A. certainly was pulling all the stops to get them in if they were recruiting his own team and his old partners to come get him. Not surprising, he was a high priority subject, on the run, with means and opportunity to make Headquarter's lives a living hell. On top of the demented circumstances that the men they had come here to hunt were now the world's most advanced bioweapons on the face of the planet. Without Albert Wesker the corner on that market was available, and that made for a great P.R. stunt for the directors in charge. He could barely believe it as they exited that chopper and moved in formation towards their location, as though they were just another mark. If they had had any brains inside their heads they would have questioned these orders to come for their team captain, or the assistant team leader. Piers and Chris had been nothing but loyal to the B.S.A.A. for the last four years, and Piers so much to a fault, that he'd killed himself for the cause. Did they honestly believe these two men to be a threat to the country? Chris was in a relaxed position and could see his old team and Jill surround the area; relaxed because he knew these drills, he'd made them. He felt no fear for himself, the team wouldn't or couldn't hurt him in any capacity that they were afforded. His concern was that he did not want Piers to be hurt however. Physically, the sniper was tough, more so than any of his previous partners and capable of regeneration and keeping distance when need be. After all he'd been a sniper. But it wasn't just physical. He was concerned for the sniper mentally. He was weaker than he let off being, and with their old team, it was a gamble having him up there with a rifle; Piers may not fight back. If that happened, Chris knew he would eviscerate everyone here, including Jill.

He didn't know when his concern or her well-being had taken a backseat to his own, but Piers was his main priority in life now and even though he did care for Jill, those feelings were miniscule compared to his devotion to that man. Chris knew that Piers thought the virus that connected them was the main reason why Chris has changed so much, but that is only partially correct. Ever since Piers became his partner, Chris' priorities shifted to him and his well-being. He genuinely wanted to make sure Piers was safe. He was a soldier, and a brave one at that. A man who could take endless punishment under the circumstances, and one he trusted in a pinch. He wasn't certain why he was so protective of the younger man, he was perfectly capable, and more than half the time during their mission in Edonia and China, he was the one taking care of Chris. But that was the thing. Piers was so reckless with his own life. So long as he could make any kind of a difference to the world, to his captain, he wasn't afraid to get dirty or even inject himself with a lethal virus for the greater good. It had taken all of that before he had seen how fragile Piers really was. Not physically, never physically, but mentally. It was after that, when he'd seen the truth behind the conviction that drove his partner that they became lovers. This was after the virus, after he'd saved Piers from himself because he wasn't going to watch an other partner die. It was the passion of living raging inside of them thatdrove them, their damaged bodies. A rough get down and dirty moment where the two shared far more than a bit of spit and sweat because of the shock of fully understanding how they felt for one another, even if Piers was still kind of hazy on his acceptance of his own body. Chris loved him, body and mind, he was him only years younger and so damn reckless. It was gritty and alive, and laid home the point that Piers belonged to him. Palms braced on the wall while Chris went into a lust filled passion over seeing his partner give himself over to him completely. That was the one time Piers had admitted to how he felt in words and it had resulted in... well, Chris' recent situation. Clearly he felt the same way for the sniper, the true feelings he had for Piers magnified so much that everything else barely mattered. He could hear Piers at his position on the roof and could feel the hesitation to harm his old team and Jill.

Chris knew that Jill held a resentment for Piers for a great many reasons. It started when he'd returned from Africa, toting her in turn like a China doll. Chris was worried about her safety. With three years of working hypnotized for the enemy, it wasn't exactly that hard to understand. He wanted to keep her safe, just like he had with all his other partners in the field. Chris Redfield was a good man. If anything could be said about him, it was that he was as flawed to loyalty as a Labrador retriever. But it was because he loved her. They'd been friends and partners through so much, not because he disrespected her. But he superseded her. Refused to let her back into the field and blocked all incoming orders to other divisions, whilst Jill was put on desk duty to recover from what happened. She was a great woman, but she was a woman, and she was damaged thanks to her involvement in the hunt for Albert Wesker. Then he insulted her further, by picking up a rookie partner from the bottom leagues of the United States Military, as a new partner. The first male partner he'd ever had. Someone not weak or fragile, but persistent and constantly driving him to be 'the best him he could be.' To be the man he had started out as and not get lost in the mayhem of Umbrella's wake. Jill called it "stealing" him from her. Even now she blamed Piers, for everything. A partner never left each other, and Chris had left her to her own devices once the world had opened up and showed him exactly who it was he needed to protect now. The shitty part being he was fighting his ex-partner, to defend his present one. He could feel the hate radiating from Jill, and felt a degree of fear from her and everyone else that arrived. No, this would be a challenge.

As Jill moved in on Chris and his position, she took a good look at him, taking in their circumstances like a proper agent. He was poised, in a relaxed pose, as though he were prepared to go for a pleasant walk, or invite them to dinner, or put a bullet through their teeth; armed to the teeth with: his handgun, combat knife, and assault rifle. All weapons hugged his body in one manner or another, along with an infamous riot gun she recognized properly secured to his back like a last resort. Daring anyone to get close enough. Chris Redfield was a world class marksman, a clean target was hard to avoid giving him since anything cold be shoved into that category. She also noticed his brilliantly crimson eyes; a shiver of uncertain fright. They reminded her of Albert Wesker's vehement eyes. Wesker…the man who forced her to do unspeakable crimes for three years until Chris and Sheva rescued her, and Chris was sharing his eyes. Crimson where Wesker's were a sharp and catlike vermillion, but it was the intent, not the color that frightened her. Was Chris that man anymore, the one she could remember from all those years, the one who helped form the B.S.A.A.? Or had he become the "monster from hell" that H.Q. briefed her on? Was he the man she still loved and cared for? It didn't matter, no one was going in until Jill had figured out for sure. She had to know if Chris could even be saved and cured from the virus.

"Chris, surrender. Turn yourself in." Her melodic yet stern voice echoed over the open stretch of land from behind her position, clutching the standard issued 9-0-9 pistol grip in both her hands. "This is not you. I know you're infected Chris, and it has made you do some horrible things, but we can make it right. Its what we do partner. We'll cure you. You can't let the virus beat you, not now. You don't have to run. Please Chris, come back with me so we can help you," Jill pleaded. In normal circumstances it had always been captain Valentine who was the voice of reason for Chris. Even in the pits of hell where he had saved her form herself (and Wesker), had she had to command him to follow their objective and go after him. He would rather have stayed with her, and watched the world burn with Jill at his side than to go after Wesker. But she demanded it of him, and Sheva Alomar and her partner had taken down the worst of the worst. Watching him become the same as that monster was torture in its own. She wanted Chris to go back to his old self. If there was anyone to blame for all of this, it was Piers; because she knew he was the reason behind this transformation in Chris, in his becoming a monster. If she was allowed, she would torture him herself for what he did to Chris.

Her words however, were falling on deaf ears. There was no reasoning with a damaged mind, and though they were superior in strength and ultimately believed that they weren't bioweapons; the two former S.O.U. operatives were damaged minds. Mutated to think exactly how Neo-Umbrella had wanted them too, and neither could see it. They were designed not to see it. That was how Umbrella reeled in its creations. Made them think they were perfectly normal, while in fact there was no longer anything normal about them. But rather than hearing the reason in logical words; Chris took a long, hard, look at Jill and focused on what was behind the words she was saying. He used his empathic powers to feel out the emotions behind her words and several things to light: Fear, confusion, hatred, and love for him. She still loved him, and to be honest, he was finding it hard to reciprocate those feelings he had once had for a great woman. He was pissed that Jill hated Piers; the kid hadn't done a damn thing wrong. Sure, he loved Jill like a little sister or a best friend; but those feelings were not enough to stay his hand if he had to do the unthinkable or to protect that which he had failed to do so for in China. His main priority in life was taking care of his Piers, keep him safe, and love him. Everything else took a backseat. "Jill, get yourself and Alpha Team out. You have no idea what is going on with the B.S.A.A. I will not allow you or the team I made, to stand against me. Piers is not 'lab rat.' Get out now before I kill you and the others."

An admission of intent... A threat. A threat against Jill? Against Alpha team? Chris was willing, and able to destroy those people that he had spent a lifetime protect? The very idea was making Jill sick. That he had announced this to the world, and before everyone, he'd let this virus make him choose to fight against her, to protect a monstrosity, or coming home where they could save him from himself. She could see red of Chris' snake-like eyes glowing and for the first time felt genuine fear. Not for herself, but for the man she had come to know and love for the better portion of her life. There was no way the Chris Redfield she knew would hurt anyone here. He even recruited some of the people who were here today. He had to be saying what he said to scare everyone, to get them out of harm's way in case something happened here. Ever the defending captain he was. "Chris, you really don't mean that! You are sick, you need help. You need to be cured. We can cure Piers as well," Jill pleaded. To be honest, Jill would rather kill Piers than capture him, especially sicne he'd proven himself to be a menace to society by infecting one of the best men to walk the planet. After he infected Chris with his C-Virus, everything had gone down hill. She'd seen the reports.

Upon observation, Jill could see Piers' sniper scope from it's place on the roof, a glimmer from glass, and she felt nothing but hate for the man who stole Chris from her. It radiated from her; Chris could feel the hate that Jill had for Piers. He knew that Jill loved him and they had tried to have a relationship, but things did not work out in the end. It couldn't have. After Jill was captured by Wesker and then saved by Chris and Sheva, Jill changed too. She felt dirty and used by the man; felt that she wasn't good enough for anyone anymore. She was so self- conscious about her changed hair color, the scars on her chest. Chris told her that such things didn't matter to him, but she couldn't stand being that way. Jill pushed Chris away and he was hurt by that action. She thought was doing the right thing, to spare him the grief of being with her, someone so damaged. And a year passed by that way, but then she began to miss Chris. She tried to see if they could give their relationship another chance, but it was too late. Jill saw Chris with Piers at the gun range, sniper practicing his constantly flawless shots, and his captain overseeing. It had been harmless, until it wasn't. No one else was around them, and yet Chris had spent hours with him, standing there, observing, talking while he took endless rounds and called out the targets for the sniper to hit. She hid herself, not to hide, but to observe, to witness Chris in his new environment, with his new partner. She saw it on Piers first. The glorified hero-worship that glimmered in his hazel eyes every time the captain would call a shot, or touch a shoulder, his hair. Chris never touched his soldiers that way. Grasped his fingers through his hair and tousled it that way. Even then she'd seen just how completely smitten that boy had been for Chris and she hated it. Seeing Chris suckered in over something shiny and new, while he turned away from her for being 'fragile.' After they had come home from the China mission, she'd seen them, when the escape pod flung open and Chris' lips were practically devouring Piers' mouth. Both of them kissing each other like it was life itself. Seeing that made her sick. Piers took advantage. Jill wanted to make him pay for that and now that he infected Chris, she wanted him dead. She would not defy her orders though, so she and Alpha Team would have to capture both men, and soon enough all were in position.

For this mission, Alpha Team was separated into two groups: Group A and Group B. Both had five men cells assigned to them. Hearing Chris' admission of intent, it was time. Jill decided to take action now bellowed out orders, "Group B, capture Agent Nivans. Roof position. Group A, remain with me to apprehend with Captain Redfield." Jill knew this would be the right thing to do in this situation, but prepared to attack, something happened that shocked her to the core…

Group B had began to move towards the house and in a burst of speed; their parts lay scattered, eviscerated. Chris had ripped arms and legs from their sockets, all appendages strewn across the field, along beheaded craniums of three men. Two men not only had their limbs removed unceremoniously torn from their stumps, but Chris literally tore their bodies apart. It only took a matter of a few seconds, but all five men lay dead; bleeding stumps of men,lying scattered. The men Chris brutally killed did not even get the chance to scream, shock or pain. And there he returned, Chris there in midst of the field; relaxed as though he'd been swatting flies, his eyes glowing a fierce crimson, and you could hear the soft hissing of air between teeth. There were blood and pieces of human flesh on his body, coating his normal gear and weapons, gristle from the corpses. He truly resembled the beast described in the mission debrief. Jill's pupils were blown, total shock at what happened setting in as her breathing hitched to a halt, with the reminiscence of what had happened not too long back, in Kijuju. She regained her wits quickly though, coming from a woman who had faced these circumstances a few hundred times before. Two of her men from Group A couldn't help themselves from the gristle and guts of their comrades splayed, and puked up what remained of their meals while three others never trained in this type of circumstance were in horror, but still held fast to their positions.

"My God, Chris! What have you done? Please Chris, this is not you!" Jill pleaded. She would have begged on her knees if it meant she could bring him in without hurting him, but there was their shining captain. The man that saved the world. More than once. The shining example of humanity, and here he was, a monster crafted by the very people who he had fought to destroy. Chris was incensed that Jill had the audacity to blame Piers for all of this. As though the kid hero had done this to him voluntarily. They were infected yes, but this wasn't as though they'd asked for themselves to be used by Neo-Umbrella's sick scientists, or Carla's vindication. He should have killed the Haos himself and died there, but his partner saved him. And not all things were not controllable. But there was no turning back now, and Jill could never understand that. He stayed his hand for the sake of the friendship and partnership they once had shared. Because at one time in his life, he knew loved her. Chris still cared for Jill, but it was so minor in comparison to his love and passion for Piers, and instead of this one sided feud, issued her one final warning. "Get out of here, Jill! Leave and never come back! Take your men with you before I kill you all! You know I won't lie to you, you know this is the end. I'm not a lab rat, I won't be contained, and Piers is not your guinea pig to torment. Leave, NOW!" As Chris yelled to Jill, and the remaining fragments of Alpha Team, his voice twisted into a distorted kind of hiss.

Jill's distressed voice carried easily, but the sounds; screams, tissue being torn, guts splattering, that drew Piers attention, and the captain knew it would. Seeing his men, the men they trained, cared about..., those people which they had spent so long to protect, being torn apart by his own Captain. Knees buckled, and nausea rolled round in the confines of his bowels, acid taste washing up his throat, before he couldn't help but vomit. Chris was naturally bonded to Piers, they were connected. That bond however, did not explain one's feelings toward another's actions. If it had, Chris would have seen; Piers' love only went so far. Watching the men that were their only connection to life, the one's Chris had spent a lifetime to defend, be decapitated at his own hands without warning or without any hesitation. Their lives, families, ruined. The vomit came to his mouth again, sour and foaming with stomach acid, but he swallowed it back, hearing Jill's voice carry as she called out. It was true, no matter what Chris wanted to believe; he was the reason that the captain, the indestructible captain of the B.S.A.A.'s very own Special Operations Unit was infected. It was his teeth that tore the skin from Chris' neck, and allowed himself to be brought back from the pits of Hell to being with. They may have treated him poorly, but this was cold blooded murder of men he cared for, they cared for. Men who fought alongside him, protected him in the field of duty. The box of ammo beside him started to look more distant the longer he stared, men moving in from all sides, and after a brief moment he let his rifle drop. The delicate grip he maintained, loosening second after second until the fell from his hands, eyes locked unseeing, to the roof tiles beneath his feet. Raising both hands in the air, and looking away from his Captain for the fear of betrayal in his eyes. He was willing to fight for the B.S.A.A., but he wasn't going to fight the men they raised up through the ranks to do it. He'd fight from the inside out... He wouldn't put those he loved in danger. Chris may have only loved him, but he loved them all, they all came first above himself. "Chris, put your gun down." He wouldn't have to fire a single bullet. Just slipped a hand down to put his weight on, and jumped down off the porch rooftop, landing in a crouch. "We aren't fighting, not these men, not these people. You remember what it's like having to see those faces of their lost families? How Marco's wife looked at us when we told her how he died? We're better this. We take the fight to them, not take innocent lives."

Piers' words echoed through the air, and Chris could feel the pain that his actions caused the sniper; shock, and weapons found there way to the ground, instantaneous down. His Piers had no idea what was going to happen, what those bastards were going to do him once they were both in custody. Chris did not care about what would happen to him, but Piers…those goddamn fools at H.Q. and their backers wouldn't stop at torture. Not this time. Chris knew they would be at Headquarters soon enough and both he and Piers would be interrogated and tortured. There was no way Chris could prevent Piers from feeling any pain, but due to their bond, he could lessen what Piers felt. It was not nearly enough, but it was something. As for himself, he was not worried about what they would do to him. For the cold-blooded murders he did, the B.S.A.A. would probably ignore the Geneva Conventions when it comes to his torture. Chris mentally smirked to himself…they had no idea about what they were dealing with. None at sniper was right though, the inside out would be easier for those involved. Chris did not want to surrender, but Piers was not willing to kill everyone here and he did not wouldn't stand for Chris to do it for him. Chris knew that Piers wanted this war, but to be willing to go into Hell itself in order to fix things? They would have to endure a whole lot more than he wanted to in order to get where it was that the sniper wanted to go, in order to get into he confines of the B.S.A.A. and their higher ups. Particularly after their first escape went so easily. This was going to be a battle of willpower. More than that, he would have to wait, wait for the right moment to rescue Piers if he'd need it, and that will hurt him more than anything else. But getting on the inside will have one advantage: It will be easier to kill those who truly deserved it. Piers may be unwilling to do what needed to be done, but Chris will go all the way if needed. How else was he able to kill Wesker? That is something that had not changed with him. Chris calmed his body down and lifted his hands up in the similar fashion as his partner. "Alright, I surrender."

Piers watched Chris' guns drop, the fingers on his right hand twitching as he watched men, their own men, come in slowly, weapons raised at the ready to restrain them. There wasn't much that the people of Alpha Team wouldn't do when instructed by their Captain, but after this it was evident they all saw what Chris had done, what he had become. He felt the 9-0-9 at his hip taken, snatched up by the muzzle and handed over to their man in charge, and the grenades that he had left up top were gone out of reach. It was the hand on his wrist that made him wince, feeling it wrenching around behind his back. There was a meek voice in his ear, that of one he recognized as one of their newbies. Riley Kemp, he was their rookie before Piers had been put on leave after the accident. "I'm sorry about this A.T.L... Orders are orders." Didn't Piers know it? Orders were orders. If Chris had asked him to put on his big boy pants and man up for this and told him they would be killing his entire squad as an order, he would never have batted an eye until the killing was done. He was though, a soldier. One that wouldn't kill a man unless he was ordered to do it and it was for the betterment of society. He could have dropped every one of these men with seconds to spare if it had been delegated to him to do so. But this wasn't an order; it was Piers' request for them to fight this battle from inside out. Take out as few casualties as possible even if that meant returning to Hell to do it. His eyes rested on Jill, the older brunette striding up to Chris and putting her hand on his shoulder in that loving partner way that she seemed to try using to strong arm him into following her directions. He'd removed countless faces from men on the battlefield. Piers was renowned for being an agent apart, one that was without remorse for those he was assigned to take out; that was to be the next Chris Redfield in battle. He could have done it, would have done it, but wasn't ordered to do it. So he let his actions speak louder than words and let his team see he wasn't the kind of monster they were claiming him to be, even if Chris had torn through them. He would have shot for the knees, drop them like flies and let them live, but it was his own moral center that dictated the move to allow himself to be taken into custody. "It's alright guys, we'll get you a cure." Riley smiled hopefully at Chris, wrenching Piers' other hand behind his back before hooking them together, headed for the chopper in the distance.