-1
This one's for all the folks that didn't stop believing I'd keep going with this. I hope you'll forgive me for the long wait, but here it is, the next chapter. Yes, I realise I've messed up the chapter dates. Truth be told it was never meant to be this long. I kept getting fed ideas though.
Once it's all finished, then I'll probably go back and reorder the chapters, do a bit of editing, and make it make sense. Lets just get to the end for now aye?
---
She smiles at their reflection in the full-length mirror as he places kisses along her shoulder, brushing aside the blonde strands in his way, loving the soft feeling of their skin meeting, the shiver it's sending down her spine. She murmurs his name teasingly, and turns to face him, loosing herself in those vibrant eyes of his.
For weeks, they've been together now. For weeks they've spoke of the dangers of this relationship, how it could all go wrong…how it could all go right. The pros. The cons.
They've decided it's worth it.
And so far…things are great. The secret, shared moments between them slowly blossom into hours, and soon enough, days. No one notices their absence, or if they do, it is never mentioned to their face.
Chris is positive Wesker even gave him a knowing smile at their last correspondence. Krauser outright laughs and pats him on the back whenever Elza is mentioned, and the brunette always flushes red. Steve has not said a word about them.
"Well?" he smiles, waiting, tantalisingly close.
"Well what?" she teases, hands trailing over the barely concealed contours of his chest. Tank tops really just make him look muscle bound…and she loves it.
"Well someone's waiting outside the door with fan-fucking-tastic hearing!"
"Fuck off Jack!" Chris eases Elza away from him and goes to the door, where Jack's waiting. Somewhere around the corner he can sense Steve. "What is it?"
"You said you were gonna practice, and the little punk ass and I are gonna beat your ass, that's what." Krauser crosses his muscled arms, waiting for a response. Chris dithers, glancing back at Elza, who shoos him off. She has practice too, gun training with the normal folks above.
Waving goodbye, Chris follows Krauser down to the gym, picking up a Steve along the way. He's favouring one side, Chris notices, and he doesn't look happy.
"What happened?" The marksman asks, concerned.
"Wesker took a hissy fit."
"You piss him off again Ginger Wonder?" Krauser shoves open the door to the gym.
"Na, he's just on his period." Since Steve's feeling well enough to crack jokes, Chris deems it fine to let him participate.
"Okay, so rules?"
"No eye gouging, mutations, groin shots, guns - basically the usual." Steve rattles them off on his fingers.
"Alright, let's -"
"INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT! SECTOR SEVEN C CODE RED!"
The fight ends before it can begin, as their attentions turn to the warning blasting out the speakers.
"What's Code Red?" Chris hasn't learned them all yet, he hasn't even had a chance to really.
"Ah - how do I put this - big damn problem." Krauser pushes his way past them. "And they're one floor above us. Forget the fight, we got us a war goin' on."
Steve followed Krauser's lead, as did Chris. Weapons locker first, quick grab of a gun or two, then they split up, going to separate lifts to get above ground.
---
He can hear people ahead of him, can hear their breathing - ragged, harsh, fearful - and he stalks towards them, coming from the right corridor that connects with where they'll pass.
Then - another voice, angry, the sound of a gun's safety being turned off now painfully loud as he realises who's voice it is, who's holding the gun to the intruders , who's vastly outnumbered -
He rushes around the corner, only a second has passed.
He comes out behind her, and something about the Kevlar clad intruders changes, making her turn, thinking there's more - it's only him.
"Chris -"
Three shots in succession sound, and Elza jerks as the metal enters her body, passing through her digestive tract, tearing through the toned muscle and out, hitting him.
They don't do as much damage.
The last thing he sees before it all becomes a red mist is her falling to the floor.
The last thing he hears is his name, whispered on her last breath before it's cut off with a scream from the man he's ripping limb from limb. He seems familiar.
The blonde from the cafeteria. Traitor. He screams it, or maybe he doesn't.
Either way, when Chris holds Elza's warm corpse to his chest, he can't remember anything about what has taken place.
All he remembers is loss.
---
Hours later, they find him, an empty shell surrounded by body parts and blood, soaked to the bone in red. His eyes are hollow, the light gone from them. He cradles a body close, and they can't pry him away without getting a feral snarl, warning them against any further action.
Not even Krauser can get through to him.
Eventually they leave him, and down the hallways comes the man in black himself.
"Chris."
The familiar voice finally reaches him, with its deep rooted connections in his mind. He looks up, no emotion, and stares at the blonde.
A black, leather-gloved hand reaches down to him.
He stares still. Slowly, his hand comes up, dripping blood, and takes the hand.