VIII

Interlude I: Darkest Hour

September 4th, 2009

Zurich, 22:30 pm.

Strike or die, strike or die, strike or die…

A hard kick to her forearm caught her unawares and brought her back to reality: she had allowed herself to be distracted by her own thoughts. Claire quickly regained her footing and counterattacked with the same movement, mustering all the strength available. The kick was followed by a few others, a succession of swift and strong attacks she had never performed before. That mere half hour of training was already paying off: she was getting better, though she knew she still had a very long way. Claire jumped back to avoid a hard elbow to her stomach and then raised her fists in front of her face, unwilling to let her guard down. Instincts were kicking in, and those instincts were telling her the man in front of her was still her enemy no matter what. She stood there, panting and staring at him intently.

"You've caught the concept fast," came Wesker's observation as he straightened, something Claire had forbidden herself to do. "I had thought it'd have taken you much longer."

"Chris' training is paying off," she remarked, feeling her heat beating normally again. A small smirk appeared on Wesker's features.

"But it wasn't enough, was it?"

Claire didn't reply. When she flinched involuntarily, what she feared happened: Wesker lunged towards her, as fast as ever, but Claire was ready. She steadied her footing, her bare feet supporting her weight in a more comfortable and dynamic position that would allow her to react fast, and she hardened her abdomen: she knew most blows would go there. She was on the defensive, dodging or blocking every blow he sent her way, taking account of the swiftness of his movements: if that was wearing her down, she didn't dare imagine Chris' skills.

She decided to try something new, something that also came with heightened instincts. When Wesker sent his last blow, Claire pivoted to the right, turning her back to Wesker. The same moment the tip of her right foot touched the ground, she concentrated all her strength in her left knee, the adrenaline helping in the spiking of her awareness and determination. With those as her support, she dug her knee on Wesker's side, feeling how he bent right to the affected side, but he was also quick in recovering: it seemed as if he hadn't even felt it. Moments later, Claire was flat on the floor, her back against the cold dais, with Wesker pinning her down. Once more, she had given him the satisfaction of winning. Still, he made no comment about it.

The seconds of silence that went by seemed like hours to Claire, hours of pain and frustration. Eventually, Wesker withdrew and left her room to recover. Claire sprung to her feet and seeing Wesker made no attempt to attack again, she felt she could relax. As she recovered her breath, a dreadful image flashed across her mind, one that made her heart skip a beat. What if she saw herself in her previous situation only with Chris threatening her life? How would she react?

"Why is it that you hesitate?"

Wesker's question sent her mind reeling: didn't he know the answer already? Their worlds were incredibly apart, and yet he knew a good lot about hers; if that was the case, then why was he asking the question? Claire straightened, crossing her arms.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said at first. "Wait, wait, I do know what you mean; I just don't know why you ask that." She was in disbelief, staring at him like she had never done before. "I… Dammit, it should be obvious to you!" she exclaimed.

"And it is," he agreed. "What I don't understand is why you can't get that out of your head. If you're doing this, it's because you had thought it through, am I right?" He gave a light scoff at her silence. "I didn't think so; it was just another one of your brash decisions, wasn't it?"

"You're wrong: I thought it over more than a few times," Claire snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. "It takes time, you know. I'm not like you."

"Luckily," came his very dry statement.

Claire sighed, redoing her ponytail, when her attention fell once more onto Wesker's left forearm, onto the black marks. They intrigued her; what had they been caused by? Wesker hadn't been too keen on showing them, and the reason why escaped her. Of course, that wasn't something pleasant to let the world see, but she wanted to know why. She plucked out the courage to step forward and ask,

"Are those…?" She couldn't finish, left the question hanging in the air. Wesker was who sighed this time, and Claire quickly corrected herself, "You don't have to tell me."

"You didn't have to ask, but you did anyway," he replied, looking down at the markings. "To satisfy your curiosity, yes… they have been caused by the virus. These are remnants; they remain dormant under the host's skin. They're relatively harmless whilst in that state, so they pose no problem or threat. When the virus settles, your brother will have these, too."

"What do you mean 'settles'?" Claire echoed, tilting her head in concern.

"I'm talking about the moment the vaccine has its effects on Chris… if there is one and we manage to find it," Wesker replied, meeting her gaze. "The vaccine won't act as the serum does, not by a long shot. I suspect he'll have to go into treatment after this… ordeal."

"How relatively harmless are those remnants?" Claire asked. "I have to know."

"Coming into contact with any Progenitor-derived substance would trigger the virus' defenses, ergo it would grow again in order to ensure efficiency," Wesker explained, rolling down his sleeve. "The serum, regardless, plays a minimum role in this, but it will still be necessary."

Claire couldn't hold back a shudder: just imagining the situation gave her the creeps. Wesker seemed to hold the key to Chris' survival, a fact that was more than opposite to what he had told her and Jill about being the only means to deal damage to his psyche.

I'll be damned if he ends up saving Chris' life. He's doing as much as he can to achieve that, apparently…

"Is there any way to treat them? The remains of the virus, I mean."

"I'm not sure." Claire was thoroughly surprised when she heard his answer: it was the first time Wesker seemed to be in doubt. "I wouldn't risk it though; as long as they stay put and knowing how well Chris copes with everything, they'll be of trivial importance to him."

There it was, that venomous tone again.

He misses no chance to bug the hell out of me! He's so ambiguous I can't make any sense of what he wants and what he doesn't.

"They are and they will," she snapped back, crossing her arms. "He'll pull through; if he doesn't, we'll help him."

Wesker smirked at her words, but she expected no less from him. She knew he would cover behind his usual façade: what did he know about family? What did he know about how much and with what kindness people could care for others?

Care for others? Hold the phone…

"Earlier, you told me you didn't want anything in return yet," she began, firm, "but what you didn't tell me was why you had agreed. Is there a reason for the silence? Or better yet, is there a reason for agreeing?"

"I have my reasons, but it's not the moment to disclose them." Wesker smirked. "Or better yet, I will not disclose them. You do understand what it is to have secrets?"

"Except when the person is the secret themselves," Claire replied, frowning. "Sadly, I never understood that." It was time to give the screw another turn. "You never say anything and then you talk about misunderstandings. Dammit, I am like this! You have my being in a silver platter; I've stripped myself of all façades because you asked for it; when we do, when I do, you're silent as a damned tomb!" She sighed. "You can't pull the rope any further; either you let go on your end or we won't get anywhere. You're my brother's enemy; hell, you're still mine for all I care! This is not a one-way street, and you should've known from the start."

Silence, then, "Since when?"

"Since Sherry changed my mind about you." Claire hastily shook her head afterwards. "No, let me rephrase that: she didn't change it completely, just a few things. She turned a few pages and left others untouched, but my view changed regardless." She sighed again, feeling a harsh throbbing on her chest. "Also, it's because of Jill."

"What part does she play in this?" Wesker asked. Claire knew she had hit a nerve.

"You're not stupid, that much is clear. Don't play dumb with me; she has a lot to do with this," she snapped back, her frown deepening. "Either she knows really well what she's doing or I think that siding with you will be a choice she'll eventually regret. You did the unspeakable to her and I still haven't seen or heard her do or say something against you. Same thing with Sherry, too; she told me almost everything."

"What else do you want, then? You've got enough sources of information, so many I don't have to speak myself. Is it a personal statement what you want?" He scoffed. "I'm afraid you won't get it."

"Why?" Claire insisted. She knew perfectly well she was treading on fragile ice and that she was doing nothing against its breaking. She'd make a mistake sooner than later. "Why did you agree? Why am I here with you instead with somebody else?" Claire stared at his scowling features; it was a lost cause. She wouldn't get anywhere. "Damn it-"

"Helping you is the least I could do."

Claire snapped her head back at him, wide-eyed. "What did you just say?"

Wesker was unusually serene and calm… after giving a straight answer? Something was off. "You wanted an answer, didn't you? I won't go into details, but have in mind what I've told you. Another tug at the rope and I'll be forced to do the same."

"Th-the least you could do? What do you mean?" she asked, a chill running down her spine. Wesker didn't reply as immediately as she wanted him to; instead, he had a look at his watch, as if ignoring her. In the end, he said,

"I'll leave that as pending to be answered; I have other things to take care of." The ghost of a smile flickered across his features. "And don't ask about what they are; if you do, I'll dig even deeper next time… and that, mind you, is not in your interest."

Claire couldn't do anything to stop him from leaving. But she didn't care about what he did or didn't do; she had gotten more answers, but more questions had risen. She turned her back to the entrance, pensive and biting on her lip.

"Helping you is the least I could do."

"What could I have done for him to say that?" she wondered out loud. "Does he have an obligation of some sort?" She exhaled in exasperation. "God… dammit, if you're up there, I need a hand. I need it, and I need it quickly."

Her words fell on someone else's ears.

–

He had rushed to the boy's room, had burst inside and now, he was holding him in his arms, Vithar's despaired sobs and shallow breaths stirring something from deep within. Vithar was shaking with no control, his cries louder than before, and the boy kept gripping his clothes with almost superhuman strength. He knew the reason behind that fear: a nightmare of the worst kind Vithar could have. He himself had experienced that kind of fear, fear as wild as a raging sea.

"I-I… I… Freya… She-she…!" Vithar could barely speak: he was literally asphyxiating, his breathing speeding up. He released brief cries of pain through gritted teeth, attempting to speak all the time. Even Chris started shaking.

"It's alright… it's alright, Vithar, please calm down." Chris patted his back and held him tight. Vithar's despair gradually disappeared but it was replaced by sudden tiredness. Before the boy could slip from his arms, Chris held up his weak body and laid Vithar back upon his bed. His trembling had subsided, his breathing almost back to normal, but his body was unusually limp. His eyes were moving everywhere without actually seeing; Chris' concern did nothing more than spike.

Would you look at that? What's gotten into you?

Chris shook his head, kept his attention focused on Vithar.

Eventually, Vithar moved and rolled onto his side, keeping his pale face out of Chris' sight. Tears spilled from his sapphire eyes, his form racked by uncontrollable sobs. It wasn't the first time Chris had seen a boy like Vithar cry, but it nevertheless got to him.

"I… I think Freya's… Freya's dead," sobbed Vithar, clutching the pillow against his body. Chris frowned, silent. "I saw her… in my dream. I miss her…"

Doesn't that move you?

SHUT UP!

Chris laid a hand on Vithar's shoulder, moving closer to him. He calmed down, remained still as his last tears rolled down his face. Vithar's words made him think about Claire and for a moment, he smiled. How was she doing? It seemed he'd been years without seeing her or hearing from her; at the thought of her, something warm bloomed in his chest… but not for long.

You're gone, remember?

"It's going to be alright, Vithar," said Chris with a sigh. "She'll come back."

"You said you were going to help me find her," Vithar retorted. Chris chuckled.

"And I am. Marco told me he'd do his best to find her, but I still have to get an answer from him," he replied. "Just don't worry. I can see he cares for you both; he won't let you down."

When Vithar smiled at him, Chris was taken aback. He knew Vithar had harbored a great amount of fear and distrust against him, but that smile was just what Chris needed to know all matters were solved. A smile full of appreciation was what he had been looking for.

But how many times have I gotten those from Claire…? From Jill, too. I remember those. They were wide and genuine, and sometimes I'd laugh along. I miss it.

You shouldn't but c'mon, let's face it: you're at your goddamned leisure. How could I influence you to think and do like you HAVE to?

"Thanks," Vithar said. Chris nodded as an answer, and then Vithar asked, "Why did you leave your sister? I know you loved her. Don't you anymore?"

Yeah, why?

"Vithar, of course I still do. Like it must've been with Freya, she's the best thing that happened to me," Chris replied almost smiling, "but you know that sometimes you have to… make a choice regardless of what those close to you think about it. Look at me; I'm not normal. I never wanted to be like this and I never should've been. Marco is fabricating a cure for me… but I have to give something in return. No two ways about it. After all of this is done, perhaps I'll be able to get back to her."

"I thought your eyes were normal," Vithar remarked, shifting his position and making himself comfortable. Chris chuckled.

"You think they are?"

"Well," Vithar began, hesitant, "I've been in a lot of places and I've seen them of many colors, but… yeah, I guess they're not." A pause, then, "How did it happen?"

Chris didn't reply immediately, turned his gaze away from Vithar's. They were bitter, unforgotten memories that had retired to a corner of his mind to never come up again. Without being aware of it, Vithar was rubbing salt into his still open and aching wounds, but the boy would never know.

This is getting to me more than I thought.

What did you expect? Vithar has lost the only family he's ever had and you have willingly drifted away from yours. How did you expect yourself to take it?

With a bit more easiness. It's been a while since I've seen Claire or anybody I know, and I've done things they would've never expected from me. And now that I think about her, I just can't do this anymore.

We went through this, didn't we? Focus, Chris, dammit!

"A mission went wrong," he simply said. Then, noticing Vithar had been expecting more, he added, "It was an acc… no, it was a mistake I made and I was infected. When I woke up I was like this… changed, almost unrecognizable." He sighed.

"I'm trying to get back to normal, Vithar. And yes, I also want to get back to my family, my sister. I don't know if I will, though."

"You will," Vithar said, chipper. Chris looked at him, shocked. "My master does those things well, vaccines and others. He'll help you, I know that. Unlike me, you'll get back to your sis."

"Who said you wouldn't, kid?" Vithar smiled at his words. "It'll be fine."

"Ah, sorry I didn't get here in time."

Chris turned around. Posted at the door was Marco, his countenance firm but his eyes belying his true state of mind: waking up in the middle of the night was never good. Chris was somehow glad to see him, considering Vithar and Marco were like father and son. Vithar sat up, a small smile lightening his features up, and Marco went inside the room.

"Is everything alright, Vithar?" he asked, looking at the boy with genuine concern. Vithar nodded, livelier than before.

"I am. Chris has been here with me," he replied, looking down at his hands. But Chris didn't look up, fearing that Marco's gaze would bear a hole into his skull.

"Has he now?" Marco smiled. "Well, that's been thoughtful." When that pause came, Chris knew something was off. He lifted his gaze up at Vithar, whose expression had changed at the sight of Marco's surely different one. "Vithar, there's something I have to tell you."

Chris stood up and moved next to the mirror in Vithar's room as the boy nodded, tentative. "What is it?"

"I had thought of telling you in the morning, but you made me promise I'd tell you everything I found concerning Freya," Marco explained, taking a seat close to where Chris had previously been. Chris watched the scene unfold, a knot in his gut.

Vithar was right. Something's wrong with Freya.

Aww, now you're worried?

Do you want me to stand here without even caring?

You were supposed to.

Vithar gasped, reached forward to grasp Marco's hands. "What do you know? Where is she?"

He reminds me of you.

We both care for our families. Do you see that as strange?

No, but I thought you hated yours. I thought you hated Jill and Claire, those who you always considered family. Are you having second thoughts?

Marco sighed. "The search team I sent has found her…" At this pause, Vithar's features had hope written all over them. "… but she's dead."

At last, the glass was shattered. Vithar gaped at Marco, his eyes wide like saucers, and his own fragile hands started shaking. Tears once more ran down his face. "No…"

"They're going to bring her body back." Marco was clearly having trouble to get it all out. "They don't know if she's still alive or not; they told me she was dead right off a first glance." As Vithar's sobs turned louder, Marco pulled him close to him. "Vithar, I promise you I'll do everything and anything to nurse her back to health. I swear to you, boy."

I was wrong: Marco has a heart, after all. He cares for them as if they were his children.

Like you did once with Claire, right? Such bittersweet memories…

Suddenly, they heard a chuckle from Vithar. "We… we don't have that much luck, don't we?"

A sad smile crossed Marco's features. "I suppose we are quite the strange lonely trio. Your situation will change soon, Vithar, and Freya will be with you again. Now," Marco pulled back and dried Vithar's eyes, "think you can get back to sleep? You did take your medicine, didn't you?"

Vithar nodded as a reply and laid back upon the bed, pulling the sheets over him. After a feeble 'goodnight', Marco exited the room. Chris remained looking at Vithar, and then he left.

Outside, as he accompanied Marco to his study, he was firm and silent.

Inside, he felt the most excruciating of sorrows.

You were never supposed to be there. How're you going to get back on your groove? What are you going to do now?

I'll keep going.

–

"It's so good to see you!"

Jill couldn't help but laugh as Sheva pulled her into a tight and friendly hug; a moment like that one didn't come every day. "I'll say it is!" she replied with a wide smile. "I'm glad to see you're all doing fine!"

Aside from Sheva, there was also Josh, Alice and Mitch, the both of them being close colleagues and friends of Jill's. Having in mind the organization was a 'new and better BSAA', Jill had never expected to find them there. Sheva and Josh's case could be explained, but months before their last mission Jill had received word of Alice and Mitch's engagement. What could've brought them there?

"It's been a long while, hasn't it, Valentine?" Mitch greeted with a wide smile. "How're you guys doing? We didn't hear from you two since you got back."

Jill felt a pang of uneasiness in her chest. He was clearly asking about Chris; what to tell him? That he'd been infected with a virus that had nearly killed him but it actually brought him back to life and that he was now in cahoots with the mastermind behind Tricell?

Uh… no, that's not gonna work.

"We're doing fine, yeah; thanks for asking. Don't ask me why he's not here; I guess he didn't want to drop by." She knew she sucked at lying, but thanks to some of Wesker's advice, she'd actually managed to seem convincing. Alice groaned.

"That's sad to hear. It just because Mitch is around; you guys don't do well together," she said, nudging Mitch, who chuckled.

"Yeah, we never did. Anyway, we had just dropped by to say hi; we got things to do. See you some other time."

"Bye. It was nice to see you, too," Jill replied with a frank smile. Because it was true: she hadn't seen them in ages. Familiar faces were always pleasant to come by. She turned her attention to Josh and Sheva, in front of whom Jill felt she could breathe again. "Damn it, what was I supposed to tell them about Chris?"

"Sadly, I would've done the same," Sheva admitted, shrugging. "But speaking of, do you have any other news?"

Jill shook her head. "No, unfortunately. Like I told you before, he left without even saying a word. He left us a note telling us where he was after he'd left with Marco, but we've got no other leads. We're just following him to Venice; from then on, it's a question of time and hard work."

"So he adapted? Completely?" Josh asked, and Jill clicked her tongue.

"Yeah, he did," she said with a frown, "and it's worse than we all thought… way worse. He wouldn't have left otherwise." Jill sighed, closed her eyes and clenched her teeth tightly. What could he be suffering because of at the moment? What could be torturing him and tearing him apart? She didn't dare imagine.

"He'll make it; he'll survive," came Sheva's response. Jill looked up at her, saw her smiling. "If he found the strength to get to you, he'll definitely make it."

Jill was surprised for a moment, then she laughed briefly. "He's that persistent, but…" She sighed again. "I-I don't know this time. We're doing as much as possible to get to him, but we can't make any progress other than what we expect to do: mostly nothing."

"It will be alright," said Josh, resting a hand on Jill's shoulder. "We'll help as much as possible from here, too."

Jill smiled. "Thanks, Josh; I appreciate it."

For some reason, her heart somersaulted. It was incredible how much support she could get.

–

"So that's your plan? Planning as you leave?" Amanda scoffed. "Tch, well, away with you; do what you want… but don't expect us to cover your backs; we got things to do too."

"You assume too much… Amanda," Wesker said as he hardened his tone. "Since when had we expected to rely on you?"

"And with that 'we' you just refer to yourself, right?"

Amanda wasn't one to lose patience; that much was clear. They had spent the last twenty minutes discussing the MO of the next day; the conversation had been full of scathing remarks pointed at each other and even at the others, but Wesker had by all means avoided both hearing and throwing any kind of insult at them. Amanda was sharp, firm on every answer and with a sense of humor not many had. Instead of snapping at him, she had been more than glad to play along and go with his flow; it was now his patience the one wearing thin.

"Naturally, yes and no; all answers are, up to this point, plausible," he began, noticing how one of her eyebrows rose ever so slightly, "but it's not the case: I speak in everyone's behalf. We all reached an agreement."

Amanda's gaze dropped to her desk, her body unmoving, and then she looked up at him again. "Yeah, I can get that done. Means of transport, say, by midday? Though the sooner, the better, I'd say."

Wesker couldn't help a brief smile at that simple remark. "For me… and you, isn't it?"

Amanda returned the smile, crooked and sardonic. "You catch on quick. Now you see why I want all the information I can get as soon as possible? I don't like wasting my time or others', mostly mine."

"I'd say your time is more expensive than mine, by the looks of things," Wesker remarked, leaning back in his seat. "If that's the case, then I shouldn't bother with… hm, more of that information you are searching for. I'm sure you want to get much-needed rest?"

And as he expected, she took the bait. Any other way and she would've seen it.

"I can wait, my matters can't," she told him, leaning forward. "Are you going to tell me or do I need say 'please'?"

He had her right where he wanted her. Now it was a matter of setting out the facts and making his way through her statements and questions to reach an agreement both of them couldn't back out of.

This agreement, Wesker could afford it.