CHAPTER 3 - The Awakening

It isn't easy for me to let it go

Cause I've swallowed every single word
Every whisper, every sigh
Eats away at this heart of mine.

But it's not enough to tell me that you care
When we both know that words are empty air
You give me nothing.

Calvin Harris feat. Florence Welch, Sweet Nothing

The night has arrived and thousands of stars are showing their dazzling beauty on the dark, velvet surface of the sky.

She is sitting on the roof, eyes closed and her nostrils are deeply inhaling the air.

It is cold and slightly burns in her lungs.

But it's the best thing she has felt for ages.

Months and months has she been trapped underground, nothing but plain white her daily companion, nothing but what felt like artificial air.

This feels like having nature back inside of her.

Being infected it allows her to separate every gust of wind that is reaching her.

There's the rich and heavy smell of wet earth, the rotten sweetness of fallen leaves, the rusty smell of blood of an animal's dying prey.

She wishes to be happy, wishes for nothing more but to shout down to the sleeping city beneath her.

But Wesker's behavior has struck her deeply.

There's no joy, no urge to smile and most of all no energy left inside of her.

Intensely her eyes stare down the abyss in front of her.

She can't see the floor and she asks herself how long of a drop it is and if it would kill her, if she tested it out.

Her feet are dangling off the ledge, her heels slightly scratching against the stone-like surface of the building.

But he keeps returning into her mind.

The man, who has said the cruelest words to her.

And she knows that her own life is worth more than dealing with his obvious self-consciousness.

In the depths of her heart she knows that he hasn't meant a single syllable.

What hurts is mainly the fact that a person can deny something so much that they start believing it themselves.

"What are you doing up here? You're not supposed to go out, you know that."

Abruptly drawn out of her deep thoughts, she turns around to the familiar voice behind her.

The dark, velvet voice that never fails to make her heart skip a beat.

Wesker's black dressed stature is standing a few feet away from her, hands folded behind his back.

Releasing a sigh she decides to return her gaze towards the city line.

Towards the houses, where normal families are sleeping soundly in their rooms.

What the hell does he want now?

He is the most exhausting male being, she ever had to deal with in her life.

And slowly she has grown more than tired of it.

"I was just trying to figure out, what the quickest way is to get to the city to find a male human species to practice my blow-job techniques on … according to you that's the only thing I can be used for anyway."

Analyzing the silence that follows, she is sure that he doesn't know what to say to that and for a second an amused smile appears at the corner of her mouth.

But the sadness makes its return rather quick.

"It's not like, I would flee, is it? I don't belong to … them anymore.""

"I'd rather describe your personality as risk-taking and dangerously sarcastic", he eventually replies. And it's true, you don't belong to them anymore. You never have to speak the truth."

"If that's another insult …", she says threatening.

Showing her a weak smile, he goes on:

"It wasn't my intention to make it sound like an insult. It's just that you're special, Nebraska, very special."

"If you claim that I'm special, then tell me what is going on with me Wesker. That before … what the hell was it?"

He knows that she is talking about the exploding light bulb and the strange energy that has surrounded her and for a spell he looks at her blandly.

"I don't know", he admits, shattering any hope of explanation inside of her.

At a casual pace he closes the distance between them and joins her side.

"But something that I do know, is that your blood is special."

"Why?", she says in fake disinterest, in truth she burns to know what he is on about.

"It turns out that you are able to control your virus. It has always fascinated me anyway, that even at a more advanced stage you seem to have successfully fought against it."

"And?"

"Have you never asked yourself where that strength to defend yourself against the virus came from?"

"I always thought it was my humanity", she admits after a pause, realizing how silly this sounds.

Wesker chuckles and what he reveals now, stops her breath for a second.

"You carry the same blood like I do … or at least the blood I was carrying before I was re-born."

"Re-born?", she asks.

"Don't act so innocent … I know that you're aware of what I am. Jason and you like to talk, don't you?"

"How'd you …?" But she's smart enough to stop the question midway, since it isn't necessary to ask him anyway.

'Sneaky motherfucker', she thinks grim.

"I see and hear everything I have to, trust me."

"Where is he? Jason ...", she asks warily.

His answer is expected.

"In a place where he belongs to. But he's alive, if that's what you're worrying about."

Of course she is worrying about it and hearing Wesker's words makes her feel even more afraid for him. But there's nothing she can do. At least not right now.

"But never mind", Wesker continues, shoving the subject away. "It's not about nuisances like him right now."

"But how is that possible? I let the virus take over me …"

She lets her tongue run over her dry lips, her heart is going at a nervous pace.

"I can hardly feel my … other self anymore."

"It may seem this way, but truth is that your humanity is only in a slumber, ready to be awaken again from you. It's a unique gift, I have to say, as I have never experienced anything like this before and who knows what else you'll be capable of one day. You can thank your parents."

"What? Why my parents?"

Now her attention is all his.

"Both of them have been carriers of superficial blood."

"Shut the fuck up … my parents were ordinary people."

"Your foster parents, yes. I've done some advanced research concerning your origins this afternoon …"

"What the hell, Wesker!", she shouts upset. "First I'm a cock-sucking whore and now adopted? Thanks a lot for making my life so much easier than it already is."

"They haven't told you?", he asks sympathetic, ignoring her sarcastic tone.

"No!", she exclaims angrily. "I swear, Wesker, if this is another one of your tricks to manipulate me …"

"How am I supposed to manipulate you with information like that? The fact, that you don't share the same bloodline with the people you grew up with, won't change your behavior towards me."

"Weren't my real parents supposed to tell me?", she asks, a shaken tone in her voice. "I can't imagine anyone keeping something that important from their own child."

"Most likely it was to protect you", Wesker muses. "Who knows, maybe your real parents even wanted it that way …"

"What should they have protected me from?"

"The wrong kind of people. People that might be interested in your blood. All you have to understand that being different usually attracts a lot of attention. You can be glad your parents realized that and put you in a safe place so you could be brought up by ordinary people. I wish, my … parents would have done that for me."

She notices how hard it is for him to bring those word over his lips.

Until now Wesker never seemed to be a person with a family to her.

The imaginative scenarios of him being brought down by aliens or hatching from a dinosaur egg is what usually made her afternoons more pleasant.

"I was born under the same conditions like you. But I never knew my birth mother nor my father. I was given away to an institution and became part of a project named 'The Wesker children'."

"The Wesker children?", she asks cautiously, hoping not to put him off his story.

Almost doesn't she dare to breathe, as she is more than startled about him sharing a bit of his past with her.

But his mind is transfixed on it and so he willingly goes on.

"Yes", he replies. "Thirteen children that were carriers of superficial blood, taken away from their parents. Each of us was infected with the so-called Prototype virus with the goal to create an advanced human race under the constant monitoring and control of Ozwell E. Spencer. Those who were not worthy died after the injection and in the end only two survived. Alex Wesker …"

"And you", she breathes, completely overwhelmed by his words, she isn't able to bring out a tone in her regular voice. "What happened to him? Alex I mean."

Wesker slightly shrugs his shoulders. "That I do not know."

"And Ozwell?"

"I killed him a few years ago", he answers point-blank. "He was a pathetic, old man with an insane god complex, you have to understand."

Nebraska asks herself if this is supposed to be an excuse for having killed another human being.

And most of all … isn't Wesker kind of suffering under a god complex himself?

"After getting rid of everyone that stood in his way over the years, he took control over Umbrella Corporation."

"Aren't you in control of Umbrella now?", she asks confused.

"This is not Umbrella", he replies. "It is what I told your boss, yes … but do you really think, I would be so stupid to reveal the real name of my organization to anyone out there?"

For some reason this information doesn't surprise nor bother her.

She swallows heavily and knows she should feel anger against him.

At least his betrayal goes deeper than she would have ever imagined, but what she detects instead is intense sympathy, sorrow and understanding for his actions.

Being brought up like that is more than traumatic and its impact on your future life undeniable.

She realizes how lucky she has been to have grown up normally.

Carefully she places her hand on top of his, noticing how cold it is.

There's the urge to console him growing inside of her and by telling her that story, she knows that he has finally opened himself up to her.

A peek behind his mask. Even his trademark sunglasses aren't covering his eyes right now, which allows her to look into his crimson eyes.

In this moonless light they carry the color of rusty red.

For a moment it seems like Wesker's thoughts are still dangling somewhere in the past, but he acknowledges her touch by pulling his hand away from hers, offering her his palm instead.

She grabs for it and their fingers entangle themselves and immediately there's this thrilling electricity again, taking over their bodies.

"It's in your blood too, Nebraska", he continues, eyes set on their touching hands. "You can call for the virus, but also make it move into background whenever you please. And whatever that mysterious outbreak this afternoon was ..."

Slowly she shakes her head in forced denial.

"But I still don't understand … the virus is in control of me now, I can feel it."

"That's because you wanted it that way. You commanded it to take over you … and it did."

A chuckle of disbelief comes out of her.

"Does this mean I could whistle it back like a dog any time I want?"

Wesker, as usual not understanding her humorous choice of words, replies: "Pretty much, yes."

"Wow …"

Suddenly she feels light-headed and craves a sip of a strong drink. Or maybe two.

"There's so much withheld strength inside of you. I can feel it, when I touch you … even when I'm in your plain presence."

Wesker looks at her intensely, like he is wondering what's going on inside her mind.

Her alabaster skin is clearly standing out in the dark of the night and so is the soft glowing of her amber eyes.

Feeling uneasy under his watch, she decides to pull her hand out of Wesker's grip and places it on her thigh.

But undeniably this short touch between them has heated every cell of her body and her heart is pumping as if she ran a thousand miles.

She knows that this is mutual.

"I have more information to share", he breaks the peaceful silence between them.

Scrunching her eyebrows, she says:

"Well, it can't get any worse than the fact that I'm adopted. Go ahead."

"The virus you have developed …", he slowly says. "It is the missing puzzle piece to my current project."

Nebraska suddenly understands.

"Is that why she was here? This brunette bitch", she concludes quietly and as Wesker doesn't answer. "Of course, she was."

"Join me, Nebraska. Fight for my side and prove your loyalty to your kin", he urges, grabbing for her hand once more. "If I train you, you will be the most powerful woman by my side."

Realizing, that this is probably Wesker's way into sweet-talking the women around him into doing what he wants, she shows him an amused half-smile.

"So, this is what this flirty and touchy behavior with Excella was all about, ain't I right?"

To her surprise, he honestly replies.

"Indeed. Excella Gionne is the Head of Tricell in Africa. I need her company's help to realize the project. There's no better way into manipulating a woman like her into doing what I want. She's incredibly intelligent, but like every other human weak for flattery."

Nebraska purses her lips.

"So, you think, if you smear some honey around my mouth, you can manipulate me into fighting for your side? Hell, I don't even know what it is that you are supposed to fight against. Plus, you seem to have forgotten that I am not like 'every other human'."

The grip of his hand on hers intensifies itself almost to a point where it hurts.

"Don't you want to live in a world, where you know that you're going to be accepted?"

"What do you mean?"

But deep inside her mind a gruesome thought is developing itself.

Is Wesker thinking of erasing the population on this planet?

"Tell me, Nebraska", he urges once more.

She frowns and while staring at the city lights in the distance, she realizes that she'll never be able to return. She is a carrier now. A creature that is not welcome in civilization.

Abomination. It's an ugly voice deep inside of her. Its words sound like the hiss of a snake.

A poisonous snake encircling her mind.

There's a sudden boiling anger against humanity coming up inside of her and without looking into his eyes, she whispers:

"Yes … yes, I do wish for that."

A shiver runs through her body as she realizes, what kind of wish she just carelessly expressed. Pressing the palm of her hand against her mouth, she utters:

"I mean …"

A pleased smile is showing on Wesker's face.

"Don't feel ashamed saying things like that. The human species is nothing but poisoning the planet. Population is like a sickness to it. The planned project will change it. It will select, who is worthy of living and most important who is not. The project is still at its early stages. The prototype of the virus isn't even created yet. That's what I'm going to I need your help for."

Not able to bring out another word, she briefly nods.

She knows, she should feel disturbed hearing about his doomsday project, but a voice in the deepest part of her body keeps sending her an intense signal of sympathy towards her captor.

Realization digs itself into her tired mind and she doesn't know why, but she would be loyal to him.

There is no other choice than accepting the fact that she will remain chained to his side, fighting his war.

She can't hate him, even if she tries. She fails miserably.

Her virus would remain attached to its counterpart, bending down in pain and sheer pleasure at the same time.

"Excellent", he says and before she can react, he has leaned in to kiss her.

Immediately her mind is fogged up with arousal and she allows his touch.

There she is, sitting with one of the cruelest, power-hungriest and most of all inhuman men she has ever met in her life. And she is kissing him under the dim moonlight.

Isn't she an equal to him now? At least they share the same blood.

The void of physical attraction returns into her body and she can't help but to briefly moan as she allows his tongue to enter her mouth, his hands grab the side of her head and his fingers gently dig themselves in her hair.

"Come with me tonight", he whispers in her ear and caresses the sensitive skin beneath it.

The demand in his voice and the mere fact that he seems to take it for granted that she jumps under his sheets, whenever he pleases, infuriates her and therefore she pushes him away from her.

"You sick fuck!", she curses, yanking her hand free. "Are you suffering under a split personality? Do you remember the words you have said to me today! They were …"

For a brief moment it's like her breath is gone. She swallows, struggling for words.

"They were the most painful, I've ever heard in my life."

Wesker's irises are showing a more intense red and he sighs annoyed.

Warily she glares at him for a minute, counting to ten and back to calm her boiling blood.

"Why is it that you can't bring up the decency to use the words 'I'm sorry' to apologize to me?", she asks bitterly.

The strange emotions he has developed for her make a return and to his admittance it wakes something inside of him.

The way she fights against him … she might be angry right now, but he knows that she cares about him. Really does.

And it wakes something unknown and long forgotten.

Human emotions that should have been buried.

It makes him feel, she makes him feel.

It's more than just plain lust between them, it's something more and so the following words are worth saying.

Removing his left glove he lays his fingers under her chin.

His face is serious, full of controlled anger and his mouth a grim line.

"I'm … sorry … to have hurt you."

The way he has forced those words out … almost as if they were a foreign, difficult language to spell out, awake the urge to laugh out loud inside of her, but fortunately she can pull herself together.

At least one of the supposedly most emotionless men on this planet just bowed to her wish.

"Please forgive me my fault", he adds, an even more untypical tone in his voice.

"Your wish shall be granted", she replies softly. "But I'm still not coming with you. Much has been said tonight, Wesker. Too much … I need some time to let it sack. Alone."

Showing him an apologetic smile, she pulls her knees towards her chest so that the hem of her skirt slips up, showing him a lot of her bare legs. Just what she had aimed for.

She notices the tenseness in Wesker's jaw and with delight she places her before hanging feet back on solid ground.

From behind she lays her arms around him, brushing his chest with the palm of her hand.

"Good night, Wesker", she says quietly into his ear and then turns around to wander towards the exit, but Wesker grabs for her under arms to prevent her from going yet.

"I wasn't finished."

Getting up, he turns himself towards her and presses her body flush against his.

One thing that she should have learned during those months living down here is that Wesker never takes a 'no'.

He is used to have it his way and when he wants something, he gets it, no matter how.

Therefore she isn't surprised that he is holding her back and she eyes him with a little bit of suspicion, but most of all burning anticipation.

"You're coming with me", he repeats once more, his stare dark and needy. "I'll give you a reason why.

"Then tell me why."

"While I was in the meeting with Excella before, I encountered something rather strange and unusual for someone like me. I couldn't focus on anything that she said. You were all I could think of. Literally all. And I swear the moment you walked in was like …" He fails to find the right words. "If she wouldn't have been there, you can't even imagine what I would've done with you."

She lustfully draws her breath, enjoying the soft din of his voice and the meaning of his words.

"I don't understand this witchery you've created", he continues. "Nor do I understand what's it doing to us, but there's one thing I'm certain of … I want you."

Overwhelmed she looks at him, putting the palm of her hand against his cheek.

She can feel deep within her core that she shouldn't trust him.

Why would he say such emotional things to her after a night that consisted of nothing but sating each other's lust? Was it in the end still more than that?

She knows, she will never regret to have slept with him nor will she regret it after this night.

But more and more she feels like a puppet that he is training to fulfill his own purposes.

And she can't help, but to sink into this black void that he is pulling her into, because never has anything felt so good.

"Screw it", she smiles and guides his face towards hers to kiss him. "I can also let it sack, while laying in your bed."

And before their lips meet, she adds: "Show me what you would've done with me if the Russian bitch wouldn't have been there."

"Italian", he counters, briefly brushing her lips with his. "The bitch is Italian."

He takes her into his room. It is dark, but there is no need for them to turn the lights on.

With their mutated eyes, they can see each other without fail.

She looks at him under black, long lashes.

"And what now?", she asks unnecessarily, trying hard to not let her voice tremble.

He doesn't answer and brusquely turns her around, so that her back is pressed against his frontside and a needy sigh, that she wishes she could take back, escapes her throat as she can feel his growing bulge pressed against the small of her back.

Gently he strokes her hair aside, revealing her neck, breathing her scent in.

One of his toned arms embraces her upper body around the waist and the incredible heat that she tried to wash away with water this morning is returning with an almost unbearable intensity.

"We're going to take it slow tonight", he says right into her ear. "Very slow."

A shiver of lust and admittedly impatience crawls over her spine as his hand wanders southwards to lift the hem of her skirt up, to get in touch with the soft skin at the outside of her thigh.

This is going to be their first night as equals - the lack of understanding of those around him and the failure to see who he truly is has driven him into her arms.

It isn't only her who doesn't want to be alone tonight.

He is yearning for someone to share equality with.

And that someone is her - or at least the creature he has turned her into.

Truth is that she has already fallen for him, when she was plain human. Or at least a superficial version of a human.

She saw something in him that no-one else did.

But he never gave her the chance to experience him this way.

Annoyed about thinking about so many things that shouldn't be in her mind right now, she turns herself around to kiss him. She needs distraction.

Both of their heartbeats accelerate themselves under the power of the two viruses awakening together and with the fingers of one of her hands she blindly grabs for the buttons of his shirt to undo them with slow, delicate movements.

Why should she brood over the past anyway in this very moment?

All day she has wished for nothing but to sink into his embrace again, to become one with him.

As he is topless in front of her, her hands slowly stroke over his strong chest, his incredibly trained abs, his flat abdomen and she can't help but to think once more how surreal he is. How perfect.

Wanting her close their lips meet once more, deepening their caressing as he opens the zipper of her dress at the back. The dark cloth slides over her shoulders, over her arms and then down to her ankles to land on the floor like a puffy cloud.

Goosebumps crawl over her naked shoulders and back.

As they have stripped each other down to their undergarments, he guides her towards his bed and as the backside of her legs brush against it, she lets herself fall onto the surprisingly comfortable mattress.

The sheets are cold, but smell like home to her.

As soon as he has followed her example and joined her on the king-size bed, it's like the tension between them turns into a storm of uncontrollable desire.

She finds herself in his welcome embrace as he pulls her up into a sitting position, pulling her on top of his lap.

She clings to his burly upper arms and bends her head back in awe as his lips find the sensitive skin of her throat, gently kissing it. It's like offering her most vulnerable part to him.

He grabs for her ass, groping it tightly and feeling how hard he is against her soaking midst once more causes a quiet sound of impatience coming from her.

"I want you so bad", she breathes against his mouth and fingers for the desired object.

For a moment his breath hitches as she slowly she lets her hand run along all of its length, pulling him out of the hindering fabric.

In return he frees her from her black bra and without even worrying about a reply he pushes her on her back and lets his weight drop onto her throbbing womanhood.

She moans and digs her fingers in his always so tamed hair.

He peels her out of her underwear and out of his own and after those last pieces of clothing have finally met the surface of the ground next to them her heavy panting is signalizing her anticipation.

Laying gloriously naked under him her belly moves up and down from the deep, impatient breaths she is taking.

Their warm bodies are slightly grinding against each other as they lose themselves in another seductive kiss. It makes her feel like an impatient cat.

She tries to prop herself up on her elbows so she can explore the muscular surface of his upper body with her mouth, to give him something in return, but somehow he is not letting her.

She can't do nothing but accept the fact of having all of his attention tonight. All of his control.

If it's his way of apologizing his rude behavior, she can't tell. But it's happening with a lot more respect and therefore she hasn't any demurs against it.

"Ooh …", she exclaims in a long breath, her skin growing hotter as he finally guides every single inch of him inside of her.

Thrusting once, twice after slowly retracting, she shuts her eyes tightly in complete fulfillment of his thickness.

For a spell her mind wanders back to the first time they had each other and how it turned into a childish fight of domination.

Ashamed she pushes those thoughts aside, focusing on the here and now.

Without tiring he pushes into her, whispering her name and slowly a tense feeling that begs for a release is building itself up inside of her.

But the pace at which he is taking her is slow.

Finding it rather unfair how much he is teasing her she impatiently adjusts her hips so he can meet her at a different angle.

She can feel his lips curling into a slight smile against her skin as he reads the signs of her restless shifting under him.

"Patience", he purrs and unbelievably controlling his own lust, he keeps doing her for what feels like hours until he finally gives her what she wants.

They both groan as he takes her harder and in less than seven strokes he can already feel her deliciously tightening on him as she comes.

She digs her teeth deeply into her bottom lip and lets out a sigh that slowly turns into a cry of pleasure as her first ever orgasm that she can share with him, races through her, draining her from any bit of strength that she has tried to keep up.

She would have never thought such breath-taking waves of release even existed and he lets her have to its full extent before finding the warm flood of his own release inside of her.

He collapses on top of her, kissing her deeply, still inside of her and they both appreciate every single bit of this moment that they are sharing before departing from each other.

She wishes, she could have said something, but it feels wrong destroying a moment like this.

Any spoken syllable would be too much.

So she places her head on top of his still very warm chest, his fingers absentminded stroke through her hair and for a brief moment, she wonders if he will really let her stay tonight or if she will land in front of his door?

But her paranoid thoughts are soon becoming a blur and the last thing she can remember is him covering her up, before she drifts into a peaceful slumber.