Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.
Warning: Violence, Character death
Authors Note: The chapter you've all been waiting for is finally here... enjoy.
Chapter 40- Destiny
Our destiny is frequently met in the very paths we take to avoid it. ~Jean de La Fontaine~
The nightmares just kept coming after that. He had stumbled his way around the mansion and surrounding area all night, finding files and reports on things he didn't understand, fighting monsters that could rip you apart in one fatal swoop if they got too close, and discovering he had lost more people. First Richard sacrificed himself to help Chris out, by serving as a distraction to the giant shark later known as Neptune. He didn't know why Richard had done what he had done, but Chris was desperately trying not to hold onto survivor's guilt— guilt that made him resent his own existence. Such feelings would do no good where he was now.
Of course the blows kept coming. When he had discovered Enrico alive, but barely, Chris was positive he'd be able to help him out. He had an escape route secured, he had some medical supplies on him; Enrico would be fine. But Enrico had other plans. The mansion had frayed his nerves, and he was becoming paranoid, shouting off about how there was a traitor among them and Umbrella was behind everything. He had gone as far as to accuse Chris of being the one to orchestrate the affairs, making him feel sick to his stomach. Did Enrico really believe he could be so cruel and vindictive? But he would never have a chance to make it up to Enrico for any animosity he felt towards him, because the next thing he knew, Enrico was bleeding from the heart and there was a loud ring about the underground cave.
Someone had shot him. Someone had seen him and shot him without a second thought. Chris had hesitated a split second too long in his decision to either aid Enrico or see who it was, and ended up neither saving Enrico nor catching whoever had killed him in cold blood.
He ended up sitting down in the tunnels for some time, not really wanting to move forward in fear of what he would witness, before he finally worked up the nerve to take the ammo in Enrico's hand, his emotions telling him what he was doing was wrong; to scavenge off of the body of a dead friend was despicable. But he needed those bullets dearly, and he had long since run out of them. He only had three shotgun rounds left in the gun he'd taken from Richard after he, too, passed away.
All in all, Chris was beginning to suffer mentally more than anything else. The scrapes and bruises would heal and the exhaustion would go away, but this… this was all too much on his mind.
But things got worse after Enrico's death. Things got a lot worse. Because what Enrico had told him before he'd been killed was all beginning to sound like it was the truth. Wandering about and collecting files, he had begun to realize that Umbrella was behind it all. The mansion belonged to Umbrella, the zombies who were shambling about all once worked for Umbrella, and the entire incident was because Umbrella had been experimenting on something they shouldn't have been.
This was all because Umbrella fucked the hell up.
Chris didn't know what to think. After he had read some of the files and wandered around the guard house not really comprehending what he had read, he finally found a room where there was no hanging body or giant spiders, and sat down on the creaky old bed, his body flicking up dust. Holding onto a crumbled diary entry from one of the researchers, he re-read it a few times before he ripped it up slowly, meticulous in fashion. First down the center vertically, then horizontally. He repeated the process until there was nothing left but small paper squares, the entire confession unreadable.
The company that had founded this city… The company that had saved millions of lives around the world because of their medical treatments… The company that had hired him and all of his friends, was actually creating and experimenting with viruses. Viruses they used to create abominations—creatures they planned to sell as war machines. It was disgusting and pitiful. None of the creatures he had seen this entire time measured up to the amount of contempt he felt for Umbrella.
Umbrella was going down.
And so he carried forth with his newfound drive, determined to stay alive so he could get the information out to the public. He eventually ran into Rebecca and Wesker again, and stuck together with the two of them for some time until Wesker disappeared after they disposed of Lisa—the 'Thing With Chains'. But Rebecca stayed with him as they eventually made it down to the Umbrella laboratories, which were situated deep underground.
Rebecca, for her part, had become Chris' support system throughout the rest of their journey—the two of them supporting each other as much as they could while both trying to survive. A few times Chris had actually found himself in debt to Rebecca's quick thinking, and owed his life to her on more than one occasion. All of the times he had thought about her being a liability went out the window as she took down a Hunter that would have cut his head clean off, if not for her precise shot to one of its eyes.
As long as he had at least one other person with him, Chris figured they'd be able to make it out alive if they could find some sort of proper escape route. He had heard Brad a few times over the radio, and knew he was circling around the forest, and Rebecca had found a rough map of the mansion earlier on her trip, and knew there was a helicopter pad; no doubt it would have flares somewhere around. So they ventured down to the labs in hopes of finding the fated elevator to the helicopter pad, their last hope in surviving. Chris had given up hope for finding Jill and Barry alive, and realized it was easier to become pessimistic about their prospects than anything else. But he would not grieve for them until he was positive they had perished.
"This doesn't feel right," Rebecca mumbled as they walked into a dark, dank cement hallway, a few zombies in lab coats shambling around in front of them as moisture from the ceiling fell, landing in puddles on the ground.
"Has any of this felt right?" he asked, aiming carefully to see if he could get a headshot on one of the zombies, saving them some trouble later on.
"Not really," she said, wincing as the loud bang of the gun ricocheted off the walls. Chris had managed to get his headshot.
Moving forward, Chris could see Rebecca limping, and was troubled by her weary appearance. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked, stepping over the body as its brains seeped out across the floor.
Nodding, Rebecca stepped over it as well before they walked around the stairwell, and ended up at a cross roads. One path would lead them to the stairs that would probably take them to the labs, while the other led to a room where the door was open.
"Which way?"
"Let's go to the room first," Rebecca said, moving on ahead of Chris. Following behind, he looked over his shoulder to make sure the zombie on the stairs stayed where it was, before entering what appeared to be a meeting room. And on the screen was a slide—one displaying the BOW Cerberus and all of the details behind the monster.
"I could have done with this at the beginning of the trip."
Rebecca laughed softly, but it was clear she wasn't that amused by the lack of mirth in her voice. "Who started this up?"
"I don't know," he said, realizing that someone had to have been here before. Looking around the room, he wandered over to a few bookshelves, seeing a lot of biological reports—all mumbo jumbo to him.
"Barry."
"What?" Turning around from his inspection of the bookshelf, Chris eyed Rebecca as she passed him a note.
'If you're still alive, I hope you get this letter. I'm still alive, too. Heard there is a helicopter pad nearby. Making my way over there. -Barry'
There was a time at the end of the letter—4:04 AM. Glancing at his watch, Chris realized that was less than fifteen minutes ago.
"If we hurry, we might be able to follow his trail and catch up to him," he said, suddenly finding himself re-energized. The idea that Barry was still alive meant a lot to both of their morale at this point.
"What about Jill and Captain Wesker?" Rebecca asked as they left the room, forgetting about the slides on the projector.
"I… I don't know," Chris said, not wanting to think about the possibility they were dead. Barry had given him new hope that they might still be alive, but his newfound pessimistic attitude was winning out.
Getting past the zombie on the stairs and venturing further down, he kept one eye on Rebecca as she slowly walked beside him, her body almost giving out on her. She had been doing this for well over twenty-four hours now, and he didn't know how much longer she'd be able to last. "Maybe we should find a secure room where you can rest, and I'll explore some more," he suggested, but found himself stopping his worrying as a naked zombie moved towards them. It was a less than pleasant sight, and Chris resented the fact that the creature was naked. He was only just getting used to seeing a fully dressed one up close.
Rebecca seemed to have her shit together, though, and shot it a few times before it fell to the floor, body twitching a little.
"He'll get back up in a bit, we should hurry," she said, going to the door it was blocking. Opening it with ease, the two entered the small hallway and shut the door behind them. "And in answer to your suggestion—I'm fine, Chris."
"I'm getting worried, though. You're tired," he said as they headed to the door at the end, three glowing lights emitting a soft buzzing sound beside it.
"You are too, but I'm not telling you to do something you know isn't possible. Besides, I want to see Barry too. I may not have been a STARS member for long, but he was always kind to me and I would like to see him safe."
Nodding, Chris let her do what she wanted, figuring she knew her limits better than he did. He felt a little bad pressuring her, but didn't have time to apologise before she did first.
"I'm sorry, Chris. I know you're worried about me, but I'm fine," she said, before pausing at the closed door at the bottom of the stairs. They could clearly hear voices, and Chris recognized both of them.
Pushing the door open excitedly, he rushed in and could almost cry with joy at the sight of Barry and Jill. He was so happy he completely blocked the sight of Jill in a jail cell and just relished in the fact that they were alive and not mutilated corpses.
"Chris!" Jill's voice rang out in excitement, and Chris found himself swallowed up in a hug from Barry.
"God, I thought you were dead," Barry said, crushing Chris before letting him go. Rebecca squeezed her way into the small room, and Barry hugged her too.
"I thought you two had died," Chris said, a smile finally gracing his features after so much frowning beforehand. "Where were you guys?"
"I was busy trying to get out of this damn place," Barry said, his merry features suddenly going dark. "I got separated when we ran from those dogs in the woods, and I ended up getting to the back courtyard. When I got into the mansion, I wandered around hoping I'd find some of you, but I just got more and more lost. Thankfully, I was able to figure out there was a helicopter pad, and now here I am."
"I got locked up," Jill said, and Chris finally realized that, yes, she was inside a jail cell.
"How?" he asked while inspecting the door to see if they could break her out of it. It was made of heavy steel and iron, and he figured short of dynamite, they had no hope of getting in without the key.
"Wesker."
"There is no way we're going to get you out of here without a…" Chris wasn't really listening to Jill as he fiddled with the door, and continued talking until her words finally carried through to him. Slowing down, he dropped his hand from the cool metal, mouth parted slightly as he looked at Jill through the bars.
"Why did he do that?" Rebecca asked, but Chris didn't hear her. Everything suddenly sounded like he was in a fishbowl, the thudding of his heart the loudest thing in the room. That wasn't possible… No, Wesker was their Captain. He wouldn't lock Jill in a jail cell. And if he did, he had a good reason… Right?
"He's been working for Umbrella," Barry gruffed out, and his tone made Chris turn to look at him, although his gaze refused to rise to look him in the eyes. Instead, he stared at a fixed point on Barry's shoulder.
The thudding in his chest grew louder.
Wesker. Back in May. Hunched over his desk. A phonecall…
"And you're positive it's a leak?... Yes, yes, of course I bloody well understand. Yes, I'll be there soon."
Back in May… a leak. Wesker wasn't feeling right and he left because of a leak… An E. coli leak, though. Not some virus. No, Barry was definitely lying.
"W-what? He's working for Umbrella? For how long?"
"Years, I'm guessing. He used to be part of the research project."
Barry and Rebecca's voices rung clearly throughout the room, but Chris couldn't make out too much over the sound of the increasingly loud thudding in his chest and head. It was beginning to make him shake, his hands trembling. It didn't match up—it couldn't match up. Wesker was always there—he was always with Chris and they were a couple. Wesker was their Captain and he wouldn't do something like this. No, there was no way this was true.
But just a few short weeks ago…
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.
That call… that call was about the T-virus… Wesker was—
"How did you—I mean, how do you know for sure?"
No, no, no, no, no, no, no—
"I saw a slide, up in the projector room. He was in it along with other researchers."
"No," Chris whispered, Barry's voice suddenly bringing him back to reality. A reality he did not want to face.
"Chris, are you all right?" Raising his head, he finally looked at Barry, his lips tight as the pressure in his chest squeezed down on his heart, pushing it past its limit. He felt like he was going to pass out, but kept himself upright.
He had to see this himself.
Shaking his head, he said nothing and made move to leave the room, trying desperately to distance himself from his friends who he could already feel were judging him. He made his way to the projector room quickly, his boots slamming against the cement as he clambered up the stairs towards his fate. The zombies were easier to dodge when the fear he felt for them was nothing compared to the fear he felt when approaching his own destiny. When he got to the room, he slowed down after throwing the door open, the darkness enveloping him as the projector slept, the fan rumbling inside like a sleeping dragon. The blood rushing through his system was deafening in his ears as he approached the table, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dark interior of the room.
Standing beside the projector, he could make out the giant red button on the top, and poised his hand over it, close enough to press it, or retract his hand.
He could still turn back. He didn't have to look at it—who said it even existed? Barry said he had seen it, but he could be lying. Wesker wouldn't do that… Wesker respected them. Wesker… Wesker loved him. Didn't he?
"I love you."
The stiffness in his body. The sudden clenching of his jaw… the pulling away.
The distance that had suddenly come between them when those three little words were spoken.
Taking a deep breath, Chris' finger smashed down on the button, waking the projector up with a crack in the plastic. The BOW Cerberus slide appeared on the screen yet again, and he found himself pushing the button faster and faster, every click sounding like thunder.
Neptune… Hunters… Chimera… Web Spinners… Plant 42.
Speeding up, Chris flicked through image after image, desperately wanting Barry to have been lying. He had to have been lying. Each slide made him want to throw up as each turned out not to be what he was looking for. Close to the end, he wanted to smash the machine for purposefully leading him on.
It was a lie. A lie, a lie, a lie—
There… there it was.
Brightening the room, the lab coats on the image splayed white across the walls and the desk, but Chris refused to blink away the sudden light as his eyes fixed on one figure and one figure alone.
There he was; dark shades, brilliant blonde hair, delicate hands stuffed in a white lab coat's pockets. That familiar, exquisite, aristocratic face… Their Captain, his superior, his partner… The man he loved.
On a slide in the darkest corner of the world.
Chris didn't know what to say or do, his hearing all but gone save for his own heavy breathing and the blood pumping through his system. He felt close to vomiting, and stumbled back from the image on the screen, his attention still on the stoic expression of Wesker.
How could he?
And for a moment, that question applied to both of them.
Turning around, he found himself leaving the room, his foot catching on the wire that kept the projector running. Pulling it off of the table with his momentum, the projector crashed to the floor, the room once again going pitch black as he threw the door open, using his entire body to move it out of his way in a desperate attempt to be able to breathe again. Not stopping when he left the room, he went to press his shoulder against the wall in front of him, eyes squeezed shut as the moans of a zombie rattled about the cement hallway. What was he going to do now? Wesker was… Wesker was working for Umbrella. It was clear—even he couldn't deny it.
Wesker was the traitor Enrico had been yelling about… Wesker was probably the one who shot him, too. In fact, Wesker was responsible for killing everyone on STARS one way or another. The man who touched him, who laid his hands upon him and kissed him in the most intimate way, had the blood of hundreds of innocent people on his hands.
He felt numb, and he suddenly let himself shut down. He knew it was dangerous, but he didn't want to think right now. Mind going blank, Chris continued to lean against the wall, shaking as the dank hallway seeped into him. This couldn't be true—this wasn't happening. This was all just a dream and he had to wake up from it now.
"Chris?"
Snapping out of his daze, he made move to grab his gun, before he realized he had no bullets. Turning his attention to the stairs, he found Rebecca standing at the top of them, concern all over her face.
"Are you all right? You look pale," she said, inching closer to Chris as his hand dropped from his gun.
"It's true," he found himself saying, his voice impossibly soft in the corridor. Saying it out loud was worse than when he just thought about it, and he felt himself slipping again before Rebecca brought him back.
"What is?"
Swallowing thickly, he bit his bottom lip before speaking again. "Wesker… He's working for Umbrella. And he's against me—he's against us."
Wesker had betrayed them. He had betrayed him. He had made and used STARS for his own needs, and no matter how much Chris denied it, that was the plain and simple truth. The drive he had lost for that brief moment was coming back as he thought this over again, and he began to get agitated just standing there against the wall. He wanted to kick, and scream, and yell, and cry. He wanted to do all of those things and more, but mostly he wanted answers.
"I need to find him," he said, more to himself than anything. The colour in his face began to come back as he pushed himself from the wall, body still shaking from anger and cold. "I need to find him."
"But how?" Rebecca asked, and suddenly Chris remembered she was there.
Blinking a few times, he took a steadying breath before speaking again. "I don't know."
**XX**
They didn't have much time to wander the labs. Everyone else's top priority was to get out of the mansion before Brad left them stranded. But Chris' top priority was to find Wesker, and Rebecca helped him along his quest while Barry continued to try and free Jill. He felt selfish for what he was doing, but he needed to find Wesker; he needed to talk to him or hit him or do something—anything as long as he saw him. But that was the crux of the problem right there. If he found Wesker and did see him, what would he do?
"Finally." Rebecca's soft voice resounded about the room as the elevator started up. They had encountered more hideous creatures in their attempt to find the elevator system, and the two of them were ready to just say screw it and blow the building up with all of them in it before they finally managed to get the elevator working again. It took a lot of bullets and some of Rebecca's hidden mechanic skills to get the thing working again, but there it was with the sound of the motor whirling loudly above the industrial container.
"Where does it go?" Chris asked, fingers tapping against his thigh, not wanting to stay still for too long. He started to think too much when he stayed stationary.
"Up to the roof and the helipad and downstairs to the main lab."
When Rebecca said that, he suddenly got a twisted feeling in his gut and began to shake again, but he refused to let it show too much. Bracing his hand on his wrist, he stopped his fidgeting. He knew Wesker was down there.
"You go find Barry and see how he's doing with Jill… I'll go down to the other lab and check things out," he said, voice distant as he pressed the button.
"It's not safe to go alone—"
"I'll be fine," Chris said, cutting Rebecca off quickly. Turning his attention to her, he could see the trepidation in her face and sighed. "I swear, I'll be all right. We need Jill out of that cell otherwise none of us are getting out of here."
"Leave no man behind."
Chris had to smirk at that, and nodded. "Y-yeah, no man gets left behind."
Taking a deep breath, Rebecca nodded and passed Chris her last clip. "Take it and… and stay safe."
Thanking her, Chris watched her hurry out of the room before he turned to the elevator, the doors open with a red light in the corner turned on, giving it the appearance of the gates to hell. He figured that was a pretty apt description of the entire mansion. Trying to calm himself down, he closed his eyes and counted to three, not thinking about what was going to happen at all. Just… go down there and see what there was. That was it; finish the mission.
Stepping into the elevator, he quickly pressed the 'close door' button before the button to the main lab, which was even further underground. Closing his eyes again, Chris listened to the hum of the wire as it lowered the elevator down, his throat going dry and lips chapping in an instant as the stress got to him tenfold. When the door opened, he immediately opened his eyes and pulled out his gun, aiming it in front of himself to gaze down the hallway. Carefully checking his surroundings, he paid special attention to the gaps in the ceiling, looking out for those damn bug things that almost caught Rebecca.
Moving ahead slowly, he started to sing a song under his breath—a song his mother sang to him when he was afraid of monsters under his bed. It was childish, but Chris needed everything he could use against the monsters in reality and in his head.
"There's a place not far… where the wild things are…" One step at a time, he neared a corner, and turned it to see a door that no doubt led to the lab. "There's a place that's near, close your eyes and let it appear…" Moving to the door, he again steadied himself. "There's a whole new world..." And he pushed the door open before finishing his rhyme. "—waiting for you."
And there he was, waiting for Chris.
When Chris saw Wesker standing there in front of him, he once again felt a flurry of emotions seize him all at once. Despair, confusion, distrust, hatred, love—all of it consuming him and making him feel as if he was drowning. He wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings; the green glow of the test tubes, the files upon files of research, the creatures that slept within the tubes themselves. None of it mattered to him as he tried to keep afloat in the sea of his own emotions.
Wesker was standing at a computer system, his back to Chris as he typed away at something, seemingly completely at ease with his surroundings. Chris took that as a bad sign, and walked further into the room before the door behind him shut as the air conditioning system kicked in—probably one of the few things that still worked in the damn place.
Hearing the door, Wesker turned around quickly, his refined features harsh under the sickly green glow in the room. When Chris finally saw Wesker's face—could see the monster behind it all, he found himself climbing upon a lifeboat, clutching at the emotion he felt the most at that time.
Rage.
It was completely unfiltered rage—a primal grip of anger and hate that bubbled to the surface as he stood before his lover, his Captain, and his betrayer. Chris could no longer lie to himself about any of it as he finally faced Wesker.
"You son of a bitch," he hissed out, his gun steady in his hand despite the terror that gripped his heart.
Wesker smirked a little, the quick turn of the corner of his mouth familiar in its action to Chris. "Now, now, Chris, is that any way to speak to your superior?"
Not hiding the grimace, he glared at Wesker and continued to point his gun at him, unsure of what Wesker was going to do. He pulled the trigger on Enrico, what would stop him from killing him? "You're not my superior."
"Fine—is that any way to speak to the man you love?" he asked, and Chris felt himself falter for a moment, his gun lowering just a fraction.
"I don't love you anymore," he lied, and he knew Wesker could hear it in his voice. It was useless to say that he no longer held those feelings for Wesker, even when he was trying his hardest to push past them at this critical moment. God damn it, he did not need to have this complicated further than it already was. Chris knew the difference between right and wrong when he entered this room, and he was going to leave with his morals intact.
Wesker lost the smirk on his lips at that moment, but he continued to stand strong. "Don't delude yourself; you cannot lose your feelings for someone so quickly."
"How long have you been with Umbrella?" Chris barked out, not wanting to let Wesker worm into him like he always did. He saw the real Wesker now, and it would be impossible for Wesker to hide behind the lies he fabricated for so long.
"Twenty-one years."
Fuck… Twenty-one years. Biting his bottom lip, Chris felt the skin sting a little as he bit too hard. "Twenty-one years... More than half of your life."
"Yes."
"Why? Why join Umbrella and do this sick as fuck research?"
"Why do anything? Power, Chris, it was always about power. When I came to America to study, as I told you previously, it was not to obtain any degree in history or mathematics, nor even science. It was to become a student of Umbrella—a student and soon an employee who worked and manipulated their viruses in the name of a brighter future."
"Brighter for you, but not for the innocent people you killed," Chris said, his hand shaking more as Wesker continued to let all of his past out to him… finally.
"They are expendable. They lived and served as they should, and in the end, their lives will have aided the world while shifting the balance of power and fortune."
"I bet that's what Josef Mengele said as he tossed his victims into freezing water so they would fucking die of hypothermia."
"I'm impressed you know of him," Wesker said, shifting his stance ever so slightly. Chris thought it odd that Wesker was so at ease with a gun pointed at him, but paid it little mind as Wesker continued to speak. "But did his research ultimately not save thousands if not millions of lives?"
He didn't want to hear anymore, and moved to the next question, firmly against admitting what Wesker had said held a crenel of truth to it. Wesker was wrong—plain and simple. "Why STARS? Why form them only to kill every single one? Betray their trust and lead them to their deaths?"
Wesker simply shrugged, only serving to make Chris even angrier. "When the leak happened, Umbrella thought there was hope of salvaging the laboratory and the research, but it soon became apparent that it was not possible. The creatures we created had taken over, and all seemed lost. Of course, it wasn't all gone…"
Moving over to one of the desks against the wall, Wesker pressed his hip against it, arms crossed over his chest as he stayed cool and calm under Chris' gunpoint. "I realized that STARS would be fruitful in obtaining combat data. After all, many of these creatures were created for warfare, yet very little tactical and combat data had been gathered on them. So, in turn, I lured you all into this mansion to record what I could and use it."
"So you followed whatever Umbrella told you?" he asked, and for a split second—only a split second—Chris wanted to pull the trigger. He wanted to blow Wesker's brains out and send them flying across the back wall. But those feelings went away as soon as they had come, leaving him so caught up in his own monstrous behaviour for a moment that he didn't realize Wesker was speaking until too late.
"What?" he mumbled, eyebrows furrowed as Wesker's thin lips parted slowly.
"I said: it was all my idea. Umbrella had nothing to do with this. I wanted the information, and Umbrella would not give it to me."
And there it was—the truth to everything. Wesker really was the monster everyone thought he was. He was cruel, cold, and void of all emotions except for ones that helped him in his search for power and greed. He was a murderer in Chris' eyes, and yet…
"Why bring me into it?" he asked after a time, his arms aching from being up for so long. But the question actually seemed to make Wesker hesitate, his lips once again parting before closing. Chris could see the slight clench of his jaw before he spoke once again.
"You were not part of the equation; well, you were not part of the plan outside of STARS. I came into STARS looking for power, and you simply… happened."
"I just happened?"
"Yes."
"Fucking bullshit. For someone who is so meticulous with his fucked up double life, you'd think you would have planned my relationship with you a little more carefully."
Why would Wesker have given himself to Chris, and reignited the flame between them if he was so damn eager to destroy Chris' and everyone else's lives? Why would he come back and why would he even entertain Chris' puppy dog affection for so long if he was such a killer?
"You simply happened, Chris, and I used your body for pleasure as I had stated numerous times. You meant nothing to me." But this time when Wesker spoke, he did not sound as confident as before, and his posture showed his new defensive attitude.
He knew Wesker was trying to hurt him, that he was pushing him away with his words again. And Chris let it. He let Wesker thrust the proverbial knife in his gut and twist it around, taking any semblance of peace from him as it stuck in him. He knew what Wesker was saying would infect over time, but he didn't care. He let the knife stay in him and used it to fuel the fire that was gathering in his chest. He was still standing strong despite the circumstances, and Chris would not let Wesker drag him back down.
"You used me, Wesker. You played me like your fucking pawn. But you left something behind with me and I know that you feel it! You wouldn't have just given yourself to me like that the other night. You wouldn't have invited me so fucking far into your life if I was just a means of distraction! You felt something, Wesker." He was so angry at Wesker right now, but he was beginning to lose why he was so upset. Wesker had killed so many people—ripped apart and mutilated his and so many other people's lives. He killed his best friend and most of his teammates—the stench of their blood and the looks on their faces still so fresh in his mind. So why did he want him to admit he had feelings for him?
Perhaps it was because Chris wanted to know he hadn't let himself fall in love with a complete monster…
"I love you." He had hesitated when he had said it before, but he meant it. And he didn't care if Wesker didn't return it. He loved Wesker and for some reason, he could feel a bit of that returned.
Wesker had stood back up this time, and he had moved forward towards Chris. Backing up himself, he kept the gun outwards before freezing as Wesker grabbed his hand and shoved the gun up against his chest, keeping it there over his heart.
"I feel nothing for you, Chris," he said, pressing the barrel firmly into his chest. Chris' hands began to shake harder. "You mean nothing to me. Yet you are so desperate for me to return these feelings you have for me. I killed your friends—I destroyed their lives just as I will destroy yours, and yet you keep pushing me to admit these things to you!
"I know why you do this, though. You've always been so easy to read, Chris… You do this because you're afraid of what my actions say about you. You're afraid—" and he jerked the gun harshly as his words came out faster and louder, face contorted into a mask of vindication. "—of what falling in love with a man like me means about you. And let me tell you one thing, Chris… Your feelings for me make you just as bad as I am, because I warned you. I showed you my true colours time and time again and yet you kept coming back. There are more important things in my life than you, and you should hate me for it. Whatever you thought you would gain by getting me to admit anything will not happen. I killed them, I feel no remorse for my actions, and I will continue with my plans with or without your interference. So here is my final warning for you—stay away from me."
And just like that, Wesker had dragged Chris back into the darkness with him. Feeling like he was looking down a tunnel and sitting in a fishbowl, Chris couldn't hear anything except for Wesker's words and his heartbeat. He felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest, and swallowed thickly, his hands shaking under Wesker's own.
He was just as at fault as Wesker was… He could see the signs and he recognized the danger, and yet he did nothing… nothing at all.
"If you're so sure of your morals, and that I am really the villain in all of this, then shoot me."
"No," Chris said, trying to pull his hands away from Wesker.
What was Wesker doing? Was he really that crazy?
"Shoot me! I murdered your friends and I destroyed your life. Shoot me!"
"NO!" Chris yelled, unable to pull the trigger when it came down to it. Wesker was testing him, and he knew he was losing, but God damn it, why did this have to happen? Why did Wesker have to chase after this and why couldn't he pull the trigger? Why couldn't he kill Wesker for what he did to everyone? Wesker, of all people, deserved to die and yet he couldn't do it!
"If you are so sure that you are better than me—that you no longer love me and that you yourself are not tainted—you will slay me here as I stand!"
And Chris knew that Wesker knew he would never be able to do it. And God fucking damn, that hurt. Pulling away, Chris slammed his gun hard against the side of Wesker's face, blood and spit immediately flying across the room as Wesker's face went to the side, a hand quickly going to cup his cheek.
"I hate you," Chris said, jaw clenched as tears stung his eyes. But he refused to let them fall. Wesker could take his heart and his body, he could make Chris face his true nature and the reality of it all, but he would not take his pride.
Wesker slowly moved back, his lip bleeding . Touching it gently, his delicate fingers became dotted in blood, and Chris stood in front of him, breathing heavy and gun resting in his hand at his side. "Good," Wesker said, voice incredibly quiet in the room. Moving away from him, Wesker spat more blood out onto the floor and gave Chris one last look before he went to the computer system. He could see him shaking heavily now, and felt no better.
Watching but not comprehending, Chris let Wesker play with the buttons on the computer, typing whatever it was he needed to type. Wesker had won whatever game they had been playing. He had used him, he had used STARS… He had used everyone around him. He had done what he had said he was doing, but now Chris had to face it head-on.
And he had failed.
"We could have had a good life together," he whispered, and he could tell Wesker heard him by the subtle turn of his head. "Just answer me one more question before you do whatever you're going to do."
There was a pause before he spoke. "What is that?"
"Why do all of this for power? Why throw everything away?"
Again, another pause as Wesker seemed to contemplate his answer before he spoke, voice soft. "Because the alternative would have been to throw everything away for you."
And he pressed the final button.
The sound of water rushing out of a tube broke the sudden stillness in the room, and Chris forced himself to look away from Wesker to the tube beside the computer. What he saw made him completely forget about the meaning behind Wesker's words as he gazed upon the abomination in the tank. It was human… or it had been. And it was huge—its entire frame stretched and strengthened to make it a giant among mortal men. The skin on it was pale and almost translucent, blue and red veins showing clearly through the skin, and its teeth bare, lips pulled back to give it a permanent snarl. And its massive heart was outside its body. The valves were large in size, pumping copious amounts of blood through its gigantic body, giving it life and a will to fight.
He swore he could hear the thumps of its heartbeat over the sound of rushing water.
"What is it?" Chris asked, eyes going to its claw for a hand.
"The Tyrant is many things. It's Umbrella's money and research, your nightmare… and my destiny."
"W-what do you mean?" Chris asked, suddenly frantic. Wesker was speaking in riddles and that thing has begun to move. But Wesker didn't have time to talk before the creature's eyes opened—white and utterly devoid of any soul. Raising a hand, the Tyrant slammed it against the glass a few times, the sound of it cracking ringing heavily through Chris' ears. Stepping back, he hit the counter and stopped as the glass finally broke, shards flying everywhere into the room as it freed itself.
He watched in complete horror as it stepped out, its heartbeat loud and overbearing. It didn't seem fazed at all by the possible pain when its feet made contact with the glass shards, and simply looked around the room carefully—inspecting it like a newborn child. It was at that point Chris realized the monster was far too close to Wesker. Trying to shout out to warn him, he watched in terror as everything began to slow down. Moving forward, he wanted to grab Wesker as the monster lifted its claw, but he felt like he was running through water, his knees buckling in on him as the monster closed in.
For a second, Chris thought Wesker was going to move—that he was going to have enough time. But then it struck.
Screaming out Wesker's name, Chris watched the claws from the Tyrant swing through Wesker's abdomen like butter, ripping a gigantic hole in his chest. He could see the claws leave through Wesker's back, coated in blood and flesh, before Wesker's body was lifted up like a rag doll and tossed across the room. Chris' voice soon died on his lips as his eyes stayed transfixed on the claws that were now coated in blood. There was no way Wesker survived that…
Not doing a thing, he realized the Tyrant had turned its attention to him, and he couldn't seem to get his body to move as it approached. He couldn't think properly, none of it making sense. He had just seen Wesker be killed, and yet he couldn't properly piece it together in his head. Everything was abstract in thought, and the fact that Wesker was dead had no real meaning to him at that very moment.
Once again, Chris found himself not believing what he had clearly seen.
Still staring at its claws, he knew it was coming closer and closer, but he still couldn't move, God damn it! He watched as the claws rose again, the muscles in the arm of the Tyrant twitching as it held back its true power until the last second. The blood dripped off of the claws, making morbid patterns form across the cement floor. One more second and that thing would have him. One more second—
"Chris!"
Ducking just in time, Chris dodged as the Tyrant stumbled forward, its claws raised. Tripping a little, he went with the momentum and rolled across the floor, stopping short of another tube before he looked over his shoulder to see Jill and Barry there, Richard's shotgun in Jill's hands and Barry's magnum in his own.
Never had Chris been so happy to hear his own voice yelled out loud. If he hadn't been snapped out of that daze, he'd have lost his head. But he didn't have time to think about that as the Tyrant made move towards the two of them at the door. Pulling his gun out, he fired without thinking, hitting the Tyrant in the shoulder a few times. The bullets seemed to do little to slow it down, though, and acted more as pesky flies flying around its face rather than actual bullets. But it seemed to distract the creature long enough that Jill could move out of the way and Barry could lay a good hit near its heart with his magnum.
Letting out a low rumble deep within its chest, the Tyrant stumbled back from the impact of the magnum round, but seemed fine otherwise, making all three of them gasp.
"What the hell is this thing?" Jill shouted as Chris scrambled upwards, his body running on pure adrenaline now.
"I-I don't know!" he shouted, and truthfully he didn't know. But he wasn't going to think about it as it started to move towards them again.
"Well shoot it!" Barry yelled, and he managed to get another shot in before the Tyrant swung and hit two of the large test tubes behind them, glass and water flying everywhere. Jill got caught up in the torrents of water, and Chris tried to hold her up while Barry finally got a shot in its heart.
It seemed to slow it down even more, but it was still coming at them with a terror that was felt by all. Collecting herself enough, Jill stood her ground and moved out of the way just in time as it turned on her. Almost slipping on a glass shard, Chris backed up and began firing the last of his bullets, distracting the monster enough so that it would come after him. He was terrified—completely and utterly terrified as it looked at him with soulless eyes. For a second, his flight instinct kicked in, images of himself being impaled flashing across his eyes. How could he ever be able to take it down with a few handgun bullets?
But he stayed where he was, and hoped Barry and Jill could get a clear shot as it approached him with a steady and determined gate, its footsteps eerily quiet across the wet, dirty floor. Squeezing his eyes shut as it raised its claws, Chris brought his arm up in an attempt to protect his face from it, and was ready to feel its claws cut through him before the sound of a shotgun ran loudly through the room.
The Tyrant faltered enough that it didn't strike with its claws, but managed to use the momentum of its stumble to its advantage, and hit Chris—hard.
Flying through the air, he could feel a rib snap from the impact, but didn't have time to think about the pain before he slammed heavily onto the ground, body flopping and skittering across the tile. Keeping his eyes closed, Chris tried to get his breathing to return, his body instinctually curling in on itself as every breath became a struggle. He realized he had lost his gun when he fell, and groped around in hopes of finding it. But his hand came in contact with something sticky and warm instead.
Not wanting to open his eyes but knowing he had to, Chris looked up at the ceiling, his breathing finally becoming a little easier as he grabbed his knife. He had no idea what was going on around him, Jill and Barry's shouts resounding about the room followed by some more gunshots. Not being able to sit up, he tried to roll over to at least see what was going on, and was halfway there before a loud crash was heard, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.
"Fuck you!" he could hear Jill yell, followed by some scared but relieved laughter from Barry. Shifting his eyes, Chris saw the Tyrant lying on the ground; its still body not even twitching as death finally clutched the abomination. Barry was currently kicking it with his foot as water from one of the tubes seeped towards him. He tried to smile and feel the same relief they felt, but instead he gazed down at his hand and saw red.
What he had touched was blood…
Ignoring the tightening in his chest and side as he moved, he turned slightly to see Wesker's body lying close to his own, crumpled in a pitiful heap. Trying to remember how to breathe, Chris stared at Wesker's still form, all of the blood and torn fabric appearing to him, but not meaning a thing.
If it wasn't for the gore—if it wasn't for the absolute stillness—it would have looked as if he was simply sleeping.
The sound of an alarm went off in the background, and red lights began to flash all within the room, but Chris didn't notice any of that as he stared at the body of his lover and his betrayer; as he stared at the body of Albert Wesker.
He was dead… Dead, dead, dead. He wouldn't think again, he wouldn't breathe again, wouldn't speak or laugh or yell or smile anymore… He was just… gone.
If Chris touched him… would he still be warm?
Or would he be cold?
Finding himself reaching out, Chris stared at Wesker's cheekbone, the only part of his body that wasn't marred in some fashion—that wasn't coated in blood and bruises. Watching his hand approach the still form, Chris had an out of body experience, and he felt as if he wasn't the one moving his hand. It was as if someone else was doing it, and he was an observer on the sidelines, completely detached from the events that were going on. The flash of the red lights hit Wesker's unmarred cheek numerous times, and still nothing mattered except for his hand and the distance between it and the body slowly getting smaller… and smaller… and—
"Chris!" Jerking back, Chris felt Jill's hand on his shoulder, preventing him from touching the body as she tried to pull him upwards. "R-Rebecca started the self-destruct sequence! We have to move."
"H-he died," Chris stuttered out as Jill pulled him upright, his side screaming out in pain as he continued to look down at Wesker. She was holding him up under his shoulder, and he stumbled away with her, eyes finally leaving Wesker. For a second, Chris wanted to run back, to shake Wesker and make sure he was dead and wasn't just hurt. It was irrational and stupid and completely foolhardy to think such a thing, but he couldn't help but think that if he didn't check, they could be killing Wesker by leaving him.
Leave no man behind.
But finally the sirens in the room broke through the fog in his head, and he winced when the screeching sound of the alarm hit his eardrums in full force. Following Jill, he tried to keep himself upright as his entire right side howled at him in pain. His head hurt, his side hurt, his legs hurt—everything hurt.
But Jill by his side and the numbing feeling that came with the pain started to take its effect, and he somehow found the strength to pull away from Jill when they had all crammed into the elevator. Rebecca had at some point joined them, and he was somewhat aware she was frantically talking to Barry as they ascended.
When the door to the helicopter pad opened, bright daylight shone on all of them, and Chris noticed all three of his companions were relaxing already, their eyes no longer wide and their stances no longer so guarded. They were going to be okay…
But Chris still felt like he was stuck down in the laboratory, his entire being just… numb. Following them out of the elevator, he clutched his side carefully, and could feel the broken rib twisting around in there, catching on cartilage every so often, making him gasp for breath. Standing back, he, Jill, and Rebecca watched Barry set the flare, and he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as the sound of a helicopter grew overhead.
"Oh, thank God!" Jill cried out, relief dripping off of every single syllable. Grabbing Chris' free hand, Jill clutched it tightly, and he tipped himself against her as the wind from the helicopter whipped around them. In his weakened state, Chris felt like he was going to fall over from the power of the blades above the helicopter pushing the air around, but a squeeze from Jill's hand kept him upright long enough that he could clamber into the helicopter and collapse onto the floor.
He could feel Barry's strong hands manipulate him around, and he was soon leaning properly against the wall of the aircraft, shoulder pressed against the cool metal as he continued to clutch his side. He felt that if he removed his hand, his rib would pop out of his skin, and he wasn't prepared to deal with that.
"We're good!" He could hear Barry's booming voice over the sound of the blades, followed by a few rough slams against the back of the wall beside Chris' head—Barry's fist making it to alert Brad that they could depart.
Closing his eyes as they rose, Chris kept them squeezed shut as the helicopter gently rocked from side to side, the warmth from the morning light seeping into all of their worn bodies as it permeated the cockpit. Finally opening his eyes, he watched the sun rise over the horizon, and didn't even flinch as the sound of the mansion exploding resonated throughout the forest.
"It's over," Jill said, her voice soft but still loud enough to be heard in the small space.
"We made it out—all of us, alive and well. We're going to be fine," Barry said, and he said it with so much conviction that almost everyone could believe it.
"Y-yeah, we'll be just fine…" Rebecca said.
Dropping his gaze down to his hand, Chris simply stared at his blood-coated fingers.
Bye Bye Wesker. Bye Bye Chris' sanity. Was nice knowing you! Anways, there you have it- Wesker finally did it. I know some of you guys were wondering if I was going to have Wesker actually betray them all, or perhaps have a change of heart. But come on, guys! It's Wesker we're talking about! Of course he's going to betray them all. But... but perhaps Wesker was regretful? Read it and take the scene how you would like. Either way I hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter should be in 10 days! Thanks for the read/review/favourites/support as always!