DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil © Capcom
PLOT: Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.
A/N: Annon, I took great pleasure in reading your review. If this helps clarify at all : Albert Wesker, as canon as can be maintained from the RE series, is a cold, calculating, and selfish man. He turns on his associates without a second thought, and is as far from warm, friendly, and paternal as can be imagined. The very fact that I've depicted him as caring after Sherry sans any further research to be gained from her is as "paternal" as I can believe him. If I pass Wesker off as cold and purposefully mean, then it's only half right. But you must consider Wesker has little time for a child, or childish weaknesses. So if he comes off as mean, it's only his method of making her more self-dependent and aware of her circumstances - to accept them and move on. Not to be needlessly cruel.
This chapter highlights on lighter memories, so I hope they'll be more pleasant for you. Also, this is only Part 1 of what I plan to be a 2 part story arc. There's more to be developed. I hope you'll come along with me for the ride. :]
Sherry was falling into ice. She must have fallen into the frozen lake. She was sinking further into the icy waters, sinking further into the frozen black. Everything passed by, her vision was void, the sounds were falling away from her, and below her the darkness was approaching, reaching up, taking her by the hand and leading her down into its emptiness. She knew nothing after that.
***
She was working that morning. She had slept poorly, dreams plagued by far off lands, vast and haunting. Greg was helpful, and kept her focused, on track. She worked alongside him, under the direction of a Tricell botanic scientist. They had taken an early break, heading to the staff lounge for coffee, something to stimulate her. They were standing by the counter, sipping at steaming cups.
At one of the tables, two staff employees were sharing their irritability over TerraSave's interference with the company's work. Sherry and Greg only half listened, half whispered privately.
"We'll call it quits early today. You can get some sleep tonight."
Sherry nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
"You sure came back fast, sure you didn't need more personal time?"
She shrugged, turning to glance out a window. "I'm alright."
The lounge doors slid open and the employees hushed as new voices came into the room. Greg chuckled lowly.
"Those must be the ones from TerraSave."
Sherry half-glanced towards the group walking in and froze. She froze over.
The small party walking in had reached the tables, were fanning out, but the woman with the bright red hair had stalled, captured half-way to snagging a chair.
She was staring in wide-eyed shock across the room.
Sherry was staring like a shocked animal back across. Her cup dropped to the floor.
Greg was shaking her elbow, he was saying something to her, trying to call her attention, but she couldn't hear anything, could hardly feel anything. She was twelve-years-old again, alone and afraid and waiting for blue eyes and red hair to come save her.
She was falling. Sherry was falling into ice. She must have been thrown into a frozen lake. Everything passed by, her vision was void, the sounds were falling away from her, and below her the darkness was reaching up. She turned to its empty comfort and knew nothing more.
***
She was laughing. He offered a sideways smile at her discolored face.
"I do believe you're not quite ready for chemistry just yet."
...
She was parading around when she let herself in to the labs.
"I am collecting data in the name of science."
He turned from his computer to regard her rather monotone play at him. His face turned to complete exasperation. She had assembled her wardrobe to an all black wear, purple framed sunglasses staring expectantly back at him.
"You're supposed to be studying." was all he could say.
"I'm gonna need hair gel." she replied.
...
They were arguing in the kitchen.
"But I'm bored of it!"
"Don't be insufferable."
"I'm not. I just can't stand to eat anymore of this boring food."
He regarded her as he collected his patience. "What do you propose, then?"
"I stole a phonebook from a booth in town." She couldn't mask her pride in it. "We can order anything we want."
His lips turned up at the corners. "We're getting rather clever, aren't we?"
She smiled wide and bright at him.
...
She was frowning at the book below her. He was sitting next to her.
"You should spend less time wandering the grounds and more time studying your math."
"It gets confusing."
"Since when have you been afraid to tackle a problem?"
"Okay," she admitted, "I get bored sometimes."
"You'll never do well in science if you don't understand your math."
She looked up at him, hesitant. "What if I don't want to do science?"
His glasses were looking out the window. She saw something move in his jaw.
"Just kidding!" she blurted, quickly.
...
They were both seated at the table. She watched him add a small portion of the green-stuff to the roll and pop it into his mouth.
"Just like that."
Her eyes grew wide. "You ate uncooked fish!"
"You ordered it." he pointed out flatly.
"Well, I've never had it before, how was I supposed to know?"
He gave her an unimpressed look beyond the glasses. "You're keeping me from my work."
"Okay, okay!" she yielded. "So I just add some of that green-stuff?"
"If you prefer it that way."
"Does it taste good?"
"Try it."
She dipped a finger into the mass and stuck it in her mouth. Instantly her eyes squinted shut, her nose wrinkled up, and her tongue popped back out.
"Gross!"
He laughed.
...
They were seated together on the bench. She watched his hands move over the keys and tried to follow along with the notes on the paper. He finished it off and turned to regard her, black lenses staring down at her expectant face.
"Moonlight Sonata."
She turned to the papers and fished around for her own.
"I've started to learn one." She pulled it out. "I like Scenes from Childhood."
She played as far as she could on the sheet. She played it rather well. He nodded approvingly.
"I like to see that you're learning -something-, at least."
She huffed, then turned to regard him with curious eyes. "Did you learn the piano when you were young?"
His lips quirked slightly. "My life has always been a much different thing than could be imagined."
She had wanted to ask him more, but knew he wouldn't tell her.
...
Just a few handfuls of small instances throughout the long years, but she knew they were there nonetheless.
***
Her eyes opened and she blinked back at the light from the window above her head.
"Sherry."
She sat up, staring straight ahead to her lone visitor.
"Hi, Claire." she whispered, "It's Shelly, now. Shelly Williams."
She saw understanding register on the woman's face. She looked down at the bed she was lying in.
"You fainted." Claire provided weakly, "They brought you in here to recover."
"Okay." It was a stupid reply.
She was older, more mature, but she was still the beautiful face, bright eyes, of her childhood memories. The one she had always been waiting on.
"Sher-Shelly," Claire whispered, raw and open, "I can't believe – I thought you were dead. My God, all these years..."
Sherry felt something rising up into her throat.
"Did you find your brother?"
Tears glossed Claire's eyes in the light of the room.
"Yes. Yes I did – I went looking for you. I went looking, and they said you were gone. Just vanished away."
"Why did you take so long?" Sherry whispered back. "You were gone so long, Claire."
Claire wiped at her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I did go back, but it was too late, and you were gone. Where were you, Sherry? Where were you?"
"I was with Wesker. He came and took me. There wasn't anywhere else to go, no one came but him."
Claire was watching her in silent horror.
"Oh, Sherry..."
Sherry blinked and stared down at her hands, knitted together in her lap.
"Sherry, forgive me."
She was staring at her hands. Sherry took a deep breath. "I forgave you a long time ago, Claire."
Claire crossed the distance and brought them together in a long, desperate embrace.
"God... I finally found you."
"He's dead, I'm sure you know." was Sherry's empty reply into Claire's shoulder. Claire tensed slightly, but said nothing. "He was chasing after something terrible, and he died. They killed him."
She suddenly began to cry. Sherry began to sob. Curled against Claire, arms wrapped tightly around her, she cried. Unrelenting tears soaked into Claire's clothes. Sherry couldn't bring herself to stop. She didn't think she could if she tried. She cried for both of her parents, how she still missed them. She cried for all the people Umbrella had hurt. She cried for the years she couldn't, and she cried most brokenly for a man the rest of the world would shed no tears for.
Claire sat there, soothing her, stroking her hair, and trying not to understand why Sherry cried. She didn't want to understand. She knew better. She simply sat, comforting the aching girl.
"It'll be all right." Claire gently consoled. "We're going to move on. There's life ahead, and we're going to be able to start over. I finally have you, you'll never be alone again. We'll start anew."
They held on tight. They sat together, in that lit room, and all the years meant nothing to a promise fulfilled.
Robert Schumman - Kinderszenen
"Scenes from Childhood"
Opus 15, Part I- Von Fremden Ladern und Menschen.