Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.

Warning: Nothing

Authors Note: The support you guys have been showing me is INSANE and I love you all for it! You're what keeps me going (even when I'm having troubles writing scenes... like right now, in fact) and I can't really put into words how much your support and your enjoyment of this story means to me! But enough of the gushy stuff! I recently posted that 69 scene you were wondering about, and it's called 'Good Morning' so go read it! If you want to, that is!

Chapter 31- Lies

"I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you." ~Friedrich Nietzsche~

Have you ever had that feeling in your chest- a pressure that refused to let up? An intense tightness that was there when you woke up and there when you went to bed, a squeezing in your chest that told you something was wrong; something was happening and you didn't know what it was, and you knew the feeling would go away if you could just fix it?

But you didn't know what it was… And you never ever really figure out what it was that was bothering you until it was too late?

I've been having that a lot…

He's changing. He's… not the same- hasn't been the same since he got that call last month. I feel like if I could figure it out- if I could find out what was wrong with him- then that pressure would go away. I'd feel as if I could stop thinking about him all the time.

He's stopped inviting me over. We haven't… well, we haven't had sex in a week, which is odd considering we… well, we were all over each other for a while. And he hasn't been eating. Well, of course he's been eating otherwise he'd be dead, but he's not eating properly. Almost as if he's too busy to eat, which is strange, because we've got the same mission load that we've had for the past eight months and he had always managed to keep himself together.

I've asked him a few times… Why he's being so snippy with people, including myself. Of course he doesn't say anything… He never says anything. Nothing that will give me insight into him, that is…

I just wish he would-

"Chris, what are you doing?"

Slamming his hands over his 'diary', Chris looked up from his musings to see Mindy standing on the opposite side of the railing surrounding the café patio he was sitting at. She was smiling brightly, her hands clutching a small purse as she looked at Chris, curiosity in her eyes as she glanced from him to his hands.

"Nothing… nothing, I was just writing," he said, closing the book before stuffing it in his bag. "Claire gave me a journal. She said I should write down my feelings for some reason."

Nodding, Mindy rested her hip against the black metal and continued to look down at Chris, sitting all alone at his table for two. "Ah, a journal. How many pages have you filled?"

"Not a lot… I just started a little while ago."

Chris hadn't started writing for the longest time, even though Claire had given him the journal before he left to move to Racoon City. He didn't really want to write anything down, especially anything about his feelings. He had never really been one for words or writing, and thought that if he wrote something down he'd simply be creating something someone could use against him in the future if they ever found it.

But the last few weeks had been… tiring, and Chris found himself reaching for the little green book in hopes that if he wrote his thoughts and feelings down, maybe they'd go away in real life.

It wasn't working.

"Ah, I see…" Nodding, Mindy pursed her lips and waited for Chris to elaborate, but continued when he clearly would have rather just sat there in his own world. "So what have you been writing about?"

"Mindy, that's kind of private," Chris said, frowning.

"I know, just thought if I asked maybe you'd open up about what's been bothering you so much lately." When Chris gave her a surprised look, she continued. "Listen, you've been really moody lately. Whenever I see you at work you're always walking with your head down and eyes downcast, as if you don't want to talk to anyone and your thoughts are all that matter. You even missed a wave I sent you a few days ago, and you never miss a wave from me."

Rolling his eyes, Chris shrugged and glanced up at Mindy before returning his gaze to his coffee. "If I tell you, will you stop bothering me?"

"Promise," she said before she hopped the fence and grabbed the chair across from Chris. "Now spill."

Getting over the fact that Mindy had just hopped the fence in a skirt, Chris sat back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose before dropping his hands down on his lap. "It's about Wesker… of course."

"Of course." Nodding in agreement, Mindy put on a serious face before smiling gently. "What about him?"

"He's been… different lately. Like… not himself. I mean, I thought maybe he was just upset about something, but it's been going on for so long. He got a call a while ago, and he said it wasn't anything to worry myself over, but ever since he got that call he's been weird. I mean, he doesn't invite me over anymore so I have to basically force him to make time for me… And he looks tired all the time, as if he's working two jobs or something.

"And he just has no time for anyone. He acts the same around people in public- that aloof, calm, calculating persona he puts on… But I've seen him in different environments and I see past what he's doing. I just wish he'd talk, you know? But he never would… He doesn't trust anyone, not even me."

Finishing off with a heavy sigh, Chris ran a hand over his face before looking up at the clear blue sky. "I feel a little lost, to be honest."

"You really care about him, don't you?" Mindy asked, reaching across the table to grab Chris' hand.

He hadn't meant to grow so committed to Wesker. He knew going into a relationship with him would mean no attachments; that by agreeing to sleep with Wesker they would never bond in a way that he wanted. There was supposed to be no connection there apart from a physical one.

But Chris, being the idiot that he was, had really begun to care for Wesker. So much so that he was sitting here, moping because he couldn't do anything to help him, even when he wasn't sure if there was anything wrong in the first place.

If only that persistent chest pressure would give up…

"Yeah… I do. I care about him a lot…" Squeezing Mindy's hand gently, Chris sent her a half-hearted smile before taking his hand back. "I don't love him… but I care about him."

"Is there anything I can do to help? You look even a little sick," Mindy said, worry in her voice.

"No, I just need some sleep, I guess. I haven't been sleeping well thanks to me fucking worrying like some woman… No offence. I just wish I could do something for Wesker."

"There is something you can do for him." Chris could hear the intensity in her voice, and glanced up to see her sitting there, eyebrows furrowed together.

Raising an eyebrow, Chris gave her a weary look before replying. "What can I do?"

"Go to his place, lead him to his bedroom, and make love to each other just to forget about everything that is going on… Even if it's just for a moment… Don't let this eat you away, Chris… Just… cherish every moment now."

**XX**

Standing outside Wesker's apartment, Chris stared at the numbers for some time, studying his reflection in the gold 2 and 5. He knew he should knock- make his presence known… but he just stood there, hands tightening into fists.

For some reason he felt… nervous… unsure. He had seen Wesker today for a time at work, and he had visited his apartment numerous times before… But today felt different. Like if he walked through that door something would… change. Something would never be the same.

Go to his place.

Taking a deep breath, Chris knocked twice before opening the door, a small creak accompanying the action. Stepping slowly into the entry, Chris looked around for signs of Wesker while closing the door. He knew he was home; after all, he had let him in when he buzzed… but where was he?

Taking his shoes off, Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed down the hallway, passing the living room where Wesker had finally placed a photograph- the one he had taken the day of the call. They were in bed and Chris was kissing Wesker slowly, a soft smile playing at his lips. The most amazing thing about it was the fact that there was a subtle, barely-there smile on Wesker's features too, as the two of them kissed on his bed without a care in the world.

Wesker had asked for it when Chris showed it to him, and at first Chris thought he was going to rip it up… but clearly not.

Stopping on front of Wesker's office, Chris peeked through the slight crack to see Wesker hunched over his desk, papers scattered about the surface. He had just hung up the phone, delicate fingers sliding off of it as he placed it back in its cradle. Chris watched him for a time, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the pen in his hand that was permanently stilled when he wasn't writing.

Wesker didn't twirl it as much as he used to…

Finally stepping in, Chris smiled slightly as Wesker turned to stare at him, no outward signs of weariness except for one strand of hair coming out of its hold that he hadn't bothered to place back.

"Hey…" he said, voice sounding loud even to himself.

"Hello."

Walking further in, Chris moved down to kiss Wesker quickly, their lips brushing in a greeting that said more than their words had beforehand.

"How are you feeling?"

"The same as when you asked me this morning at work."

"So good...?"

"Yes."

Nodding, Chris let out a soft sigh before straightening up. He observed Wesker as he looked through his papers again, eyes scanning the pages even though he was sitting back- feigning interest in Chris.

He had been doing that a lot.

"Did you just come to see how I was, or did you want to discuss something?" Wesker's voice snapped Chris out of his daze, and he could hear a hint of annoyance mixed in with his usual tone.

Lead him to his bedroom.

Not bothering to reply, Chris reached down to take Wesker's hand in his own, calloused fingers interlocking with smooth ones, and there was an immediate shift in the air, one both of them could feel. Pulling Wesker up, Chris was met with little resistance and led him out of his office and down a short ways to the bedroom, his heart racing.

Opening the door, Chris viewed the now familiar bedroom- the walls still white, the sheets still black, and the small reading light on the side of the bed that had become his, still tilted slightly from when he had smacked it during sex months ago. It was the same… Everything was the same.

Then why didn't it feel the same?

Moving to the side of the bed, Chris finally let go of Wesker's hands, their fingers brushing before contact was lost. Staring down at the sheets, Chris had a feeling of déjà vu as Wesker pressed against his back, palms gliding across his stomach in a slow, steady fashion.

Closing his eyes, Chris rested his head back against Wesker's shoulder, hot breath sliding across his cheek.

"What do you want, Christopher?" Wesker asked, his voice low, carrying to Chris as slow as molasses on a summer day. The way Wesker asked it made Chris feel like Wesker was feeling the same apprehension- the same tension and foreboding that he had been experiencing.

And yet he stayed. Wesker wasn't pushing away to go to more work; wasn't shutting him out like he had for the past couple of weeks. He was in the room both physically and mentally as much as Chris was…

Just forget about everything that is going on… Even if it's just for a moment.

"I want you to take me away," he whispered.

**XX**

His touches were like fire, and his gaze like ice, so deep that you could drown in them. He was all over Chris- surrounding him, touching, caressing, giving.

They were bare- their bodies pressed together. Chris was surrounded by crumpled sheets and overturned pillows, his legs spread as Wesker pushed inside him slowly- their forms connected completely in the most intimate way possible.

The kisses were slow, unhurried in approach as the two of them danced, pulling and pushing together. It was familiar and yet new- a goodbye and a hello.

Reaching up, he grasped Wesker's arms in a tight hold, their skin contrasting like they always did… Pale, snow white skin against sun kissed bronze.

They were connected and yet apart, their mind and thoughts disjointed… but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Wesker.

Cherish every moment now.

**XX**

Wesker had fallen asleep shortly after their coupling. From the few times he had spent at Wesker's place the past few weeks, Chris realized Wesker was short on sleep. He was always going out a little after the supper hour, and would return late at night, claiming he was at a meeting that lasted longer than expected, or that he was doing work at the office and had lost track of time.

Chris had taken them for face value for a time, but as the excuses became more and more frequent, he had started to have reservations about the validity of Wesker's midnight meetings.

Either way, Chris found himself lying beside Wesker on his bed, willing the worry lines between his brows to go away. Even in his god damn sleep Wesker looked stressed. He had seen a moment of peace on Wesker's features when they had sex, but it was gone as soon as it had come, and Chris was left wondering when, or if, things would look better.

Reaching out, Chris gently brushed a lock of Wesker's hair away from his eyes, being careful not to wake him. He was lying facing Chris, one hand curled under his pillow while the other lay flat between them, small, blue veins showing through his flesh. Letting out a soft sigh, he moved forward to gently kiss Wesker on the lips before sliding out of bed, finding himself far too restless to just be lying in bed.

Where Wesker's apartment once offered a reprieve from the outside world, it now felt stuffy- almost suffocating to be in for too long. Gathering his clothes from around the room, Chris dressed quietly before leaving the bedroom, giving Wesker one last glance before shutting the door as softly as he could.

Walking down the hallway, Chris stared at his feet the entire time, watching them guide him away from the safety of the bedroom and back outside to a world that Chris was beginning to lose a grip on. Wesker's troubles had become Chris', and he hated that he wasn't even allowed to know why he was so troubled…

Stopping at the door, Chris went to pull his shoes on before the phone started to ring, an obnoxious sound carrying through the thick, spring air. Dropping his shoes, Chris hurried to Wesker's office, hoping to stop the ringing before it woke Wesker up.

Pushing through the slightly ajar door, Chris grabbed the device on its third ring, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end for a time, before a man's voice carried through, obviously hesitant in his approach. "Hello… Is this Albert?"

"N-no, this is… this is a friend of his. He's currently held up. Can I take a message?"

Again, there was silence for a time before Chris could hear a cough and then a reply. "Yes, if you could tell him William called."

William… Birkin?

"How did he pass away?"

"A car accident- just a few years ago…"

No, there were plenty of men named William out there- this was not William Birkin. Wesker had said he was dead… he had died a long time ago. This didn't match up... Wesker had said.

Swallowing thickly, Chris clutched the phone a little harder, vision blurring as he stared at the numbers on the phones receiver. He didn't need to ask for a last name- he didn't need to know.

"William?"

He could hear a heavy sigh, and irritation was clear. "Yes, William Birkin."

Trying to hold it in, Chris bit his bottom lip and nodded, even though William couldn't see it. "I'll… I'll tell him."

Hanging up the phone, Chris continued to stare at the receiver for a time.

William… William Birkin.

"A car accident- just a few years ago…"

Birkin.

William.

He wasn't dead… He wasn't dead at all. There was no car accident- there was nothing.

Wesker had… he had lied.

Again.

Clenching his jaw tight, Chris snapped his gaze away from the phone to look at all of the papers lying on the desk, all of them looking like a meld of white and black lines. His body was shaking slightly as reality started to sink in, and he felt like something was stuck in his throat- choking him.

He had lied to him. Shut him out and refused to let him in. He had played Chris like a fool… He had wrapped him around his finger; used him and played with him, never letting him in just in case… Never giving Chris what he really wanted.

Wesker had betrayed him.

Blinking a few times, Chris realized he had begun to cry, and brought a hand up to squeeze down on his eyes, trying to physically stop them from coming. He was not going to cry over this- he was not going to cry for Wesker.

Gaining his composure somewhat, Chris took a deep, shaky breath before turning around, fully intent on leaving before he was stopped by the sight of Wesker standing before him.

All he had on was a pair of black slacks, the buttons and zipper undone as he stared at Chris, eyes narrowed.

"Who was that?" he asked, shoulders tense and mouth tight.

Raising his chin, Chris clenched his jaw a few times, fighting back the urge to just break down in front of him. "William. William Birkin."

If it was a surprise to him, Wesker didn't show it. Instead, he walked forward and snatched a piece of paper off of the desk alongside a pen, before writing down William's name along with 'call'.

"Don't answer my phone again."

Wesker's voice was icy and calculating, as if he was speaking to anyone but Chris. Holding back a punch, Chris moved away from Wesker, trying to distant himself from him.

"You lied to me."

Straightening up, Wesker looked at Chris before he made move to leave; as if he wasn't even worth the explanation. Shaking his head, Chris let out a growl and grabbed one of Wesker's staplers before throwing it violently against the wall near the door, effectively stopping Wesker from leaving.

"You lied to me," he repeated, voice wavering with emotion.

Staring at the new hole in the wall, Wesker cracked his neck before glaring at Chris over his shoulder. "My life was never yours to know."

It was like a slap to the face, and Chris desperately clung to the thin strand that was the only thing holding him up from a fall into the darkness below. "You don't mean that…" he began, his voice strong despite the weakness in his body.

"We had something, Wesker… We… we had something really strong. We were going to work, if only…" Looking away, Chris took in a deep breath that was shaky in its release as tears began to appear again.

"If only I had done what you wanted me to do?" Wesker asked- his voice almost devoid of any emotion at all. "If only I had become someone I wasn't to please a man who forced himself into a place he never belonged?"

Chris couldn't look at Wesker again- he couldn't spare him that second glance. In a matter of moments Wesker had gone from the beautiful, intelligent, and elegant man Chris had fallen for, and was instead replaced with the wolf at the end of the fairy tale.

"You don't mean that," Chris whispered, staring down at his hands. "You're just trying to push me away."

Chris didn't believe his ears for a moment, but looked up just in time to see Wesker was laughing. It was low, but cold… Oh so cold. It struck Chris in the heart like a knife, and he wanted so desperately to just die.

"You poor deluded fool… I never wanted to pull you close. I wanted you gone, Chris. But you were always here with me- always trying to get into my life. I entertained it for a time because I enjoyed our times together… But it would never last."

"No… no, don't you say that," Chris said, the anger returning. "We had something, Wesker. You liked to lie about it- you never wanted to admit it. But we had something and I know you felt it just as much as I did… I know you did."

"I never felt anything but lust," Wesker said, finally turning around to stare down Chris. "I wanted your body, not your mind."

Shaking his head, Chris coughed back tears as he made his way to the door. "You're the deluded one, Wesker. You care for me, I know you do."

He has to…

Please just say you care…

Wesker was silent, his eyes downcast as he looked at Chris' collarbone, almost as if he was afraid to meet Chris' gaze. But he finally looked up, head cocked to the side as he spoke. "Christopher, stop asking me for something that I will never give you. Either take what I have offered, or leave me."

And for a second Chris thought he had heard a waver in Wesker's voice at the end- a tremble as his throat constricted for just a moment. But it was wishful thinking on Chris' part- or so he thought- and he couldn't help but physically back away from Wesker.

"No… no, I want out. I… I want to leave you," he said without even realizing he had spoken it out loud.

But he was done… He couldn't handle this anymore. Wesker wasn't in it- he was never going to be in it. That connection Chris had felt was always going to be denied, and Wesker was going to deny it in the most emotionally painful ways he could think of.

He was always going to lash out in fear… He was always going to be Chris' enemy despite being the most important person to Chris. And Chris didn't have the energy anymore to keep both himself and Wesker taut.

He didn't have the strength.

"I'm done," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper before he found himself leaving the office and the apartment. Before he found himself leaving Wesker…

As soon as he was out of the apartment he found himself running down the hallway to the stairs, a chill coursing down his spine, as if the shadows in the corners were threatening to pull him under. Throwing open the door, Chris flung himself down the stairs, skipping steps and tripping a few times before he was down in the lobby.

Pushing his body against the doors, Chris shoved them open before he was outside, the air suddenly lighter, easier to breathe in. But Chris didn't take the time to stop for even a second, and continued to run down the street, his feet taking him far away as he tried to exhaust his body as much as his mind was.

The sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement and blood rushing through his system was all he heard as he continued to just run.

Don't look back- never look back.

He didn't stop running until he had reached a large, black iron gate- an entrance way to a park.

Pushing the gate aside, Chris got as far as a park bench before he collapsed beside it, knees hitting the grass closely followed by his fists. Punching the ground once, Chris let out a frustrated yell before he punched the earth again, his knuckle cracking as he did so.

Letting out a desperate sob, Chris dropped further onto the ground, his hands grabbing at the grass to pull at it weakly as his mind went blank- all thoughts too painful and raw to deal with right now.

He began to realize he didn't even have the strength to keep himself taut.

Yup... it happened. The 'break up'. But is this really the end for them? Haha- no, I'm not letting them off the hook that easy! There will still be a lot of development between them, don't worry! Anyways, you'll have to wait until chapter 32 to see how poor Chris fairs after this sudden realization that Wesker truly is a jerk at heart. Or is he...? And for those of you wondering- the story will NOT stop after the mansion incident. This story is going all the way to the end of RE5! So I hope you stick with me!