Author's Note: Fine then, early updates. Since I really couldn't wait to update -and seeing the results of the poll, I was glad it turned out like that- I'm going to change the pace and go Thursdays and Mondays; it seems a better way. So, most of you wanted development, others told me it was good. Well, if you wanted development, here you have it xD It's much longer and updates will keep getting like that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs.

XV

Alice

'Guess, if you can, and choose, if you dare.' Pierre Corneille

"Since when have you been stalking me?"

Jill felt her cheeks warming up at a fast rate, but kept silent.

This is NOT gonna be good. Let's hope death is pleasant.

XX

"Since never," Jill replied with a ginger tone. "I just thought I'd heard something, that's all."

"You never lied well," he said as he exchanged a long look with her, his eyes unwilling to leave hers. It'd be great to gauge her reaction, see how to adapt to it. Finally, Jill lowered her gaze at her arm and Wesker understood: he let go of her arm and sprung out of bed, choosing to stand on the opposite side. He needed to keep his distances.

"Are you... feeling fine now?" Jill inquired, still hesitant. It was the first time in a very long while that Wesker felt a pang of uneasiness, and something told him to listen to his instincts, not his mind. Wesker kept his impassive demeanour and his ever-present smirk, but not willingly.

"Was that actually concern?"

Jill seemed upset. "Unless you want to take it as cruelty, yes, it is concern... but slight." A short silence followed her words, a silence in which Jill seemed to be holding back the words she itched to say. Finally, she did. "I mean, you were burning up! And.. to tell the truth, it was out of instinct. I didn't even stop to think; well, maybe I did, but I didn't listen. I... had to see if there was something I could do."

Wesker was now convinced that there was no way around it: she was getting somewhere, and she'd gotten there first. It was time for him to reach the same conclusion, as antagonistic and foolish as it was.

"I appreciate the effort but, as you can see, I'm fine now," Wesker said with nonchalance. By the look of how Jill's brow furrowed ever so slightly, Wesker could tell she had been expecting a different answer. What was she expecting though?

"Can I ask what happened?" Jill asked, gesturing at him with an air of curiosity and concern -true concern, as Wesker could see. He had been correct when he'd said she didn't lie well: this time was one of them. He hesitated at first; talking about something like his mind and what nightmares assailed it was a difficult topic to speak about, one he always avoided. Jill was persistent and wouldn't go down without a fight, as one would say. In the end, he decided to reply: he had to keep his promise, didn't he?

"Just a restless sleep, nothing more," he spoke in a low voice, and then he noticed he was still being edgy and cold. "What's happened today happens often."

Wesker gazed at Jill, on whose face had appeared another frown, and the gleam in her eyes told him there was something she wanted to ask him. The question burned in her gaze, and she then put it into words.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

And here it comes, but I can see she's afraid... and so am I. We're both afraid of the answer I'll give, and I also fear the question. I can't let it get to me though; I've faced worse.

Wesker nodded. "Do so. I've missed answering your questions, each one curiouser and curiouser."

This seemed to bring a faint smile to Jill's features, but it was gone as soon as it came. In apparent and slight annoyance, she clicked her tongue. "That's another reason that leads me to ask the question."

"What?" Wesker asked. "My sense of humour?"

"Exactly," Jill said with a nod of her own. "Remember when I told you I had seen you different? It's just that... there's something I can't understand about all this."

"What is it that you can't understand, if I may ask?" Wesker inquired, tilting his head.

Don't, don't, don't-!

"Why are you like this?"

Wesker didn't dare to avert her gaze out of fear of self-humiliation; he couldn't avoid such a question, even though it was what he desired to do, and with all his might. Unconsciously, he grew tense and a knot of nervousness caught in his gut. Why the change? Wesker already knew the answer to that inquiry and knew about its consequences if applied to reality.

Because there was a time when I had harboured feelings for her, feelings as antagonistic as white and black, of foolishness as vast as the gap between Heaven and Hell. All those feelings soon transformed into hate as who I hated the most took her away.

I'm not ready to tell her this yet... not after all she went through because of me. I tortured her, I corrupted her, I know I even killed a part of her; the Jill Valentine I knew isn't there anymore. I couldn't have enjoyed it more, because this was all going to go and give Redfield the hardest of times; he'd have to endure the most intense of psychological tortures so far. And I wanted it, I wanted to see him suffer.

Why hasn't it been the same with her?

Banishing those thoughts from his mind, Wesker said at last, "I don't know." No sense beating around the bush.

"Look, I mean it!" she shot back. "How wouldn't you know?"

"I'm afraid that's a question that will have to wait. I guarantee that you'll get the answers soon." Jill seemed disappointed again, but then she shrugged after a short moment.

"That's odd."

"What is?"

"That you've accepted to tell me without lying out any complaints," she explained with an air of incredulity. "You surprise me at times."

What is she saying? What are we both saying, for that matter?! It's as if we don't care anymore! Well, I myself don't care now.

"When it's an answer I can get some benefit out of, I say it," Wesker said with a mild chuckle, "and I've seen quite a benefit: you'll have to do the same."

Jill's breath hitched. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me; I believe I made myself clear enough, didn't I?" Wesker posed, natural. Jill pursed her lips, her gaze looking everywhere but towards his own, and then chuckled. Such unusual reactions: why?

"Come Hell or high water?" she asked, cryptically, but Wesker knew how to deal with enigmas like those. With a nod, he gave his answer. After a few seconds of silence, she asked, "Is there anything else I can do?"

Wesker shook his head. "Yes: don't be so quick. Let some time pass by, and you might catch the fastest of hares. Think about it; you'll see I'm in the right track."

"All... right, I guess I can figure out some meaning out of it," she agreed, turning for the door. Before she made her exit, Jill locked gazes with him once again and then, before he could do anything about it, she left and closed the door softly behind her.

Confusion was the only thing Wesker was left to rest with.

xx

August 21st, 2009

Eight days went by since their arrival to Africa, seven since the night when dreams and nightmares had haunted Wesker's mind, six since all was done in silence.

Semper sub silentio.

"I'm afraid that's a question that will have to wait. I guarantee that you'll get the answers soon."

'Soon' had been an overstatement.

Ever since that night, Wesker avoided coming into contact with Jill for as long as it was possible. The day when Jill had watched him dream, he'd woken up with the solid idea of making up for his mistakes; he'd been too careless when around Jill. Careless, careless, careless and careless; there was no other word to use. Keeping his distances worked wonders when it came to fixing his broken ego; Wesker had stooped too low.

Admitting to give answers? To reply to questions about his feelings, his personality? To answer questions about changes of heart, of why certain emotions were unknown to him? Why had he agreed to do that?!

"Yet another one of the many things you and I have in common."

Wesker had said that to her, and he'd delighted in it. He still remembered the joy of seeing and feeling her despair as it seeped through every pore of her body; he had even been able to smell her fear and her despair. Still, he could find no-one else to lay the blame on than Redfield, the man who had made Wesker lose his sanity. It had been such a constant fight, tense and hard, that Wesker had done everything in his hand and more to end the fight. In a way, he succeeded; in another, he inevitably failed.

Jill had been his only means to put an end to that fight, as antagonistic as it sounded. Torturing Jill near breaking point had been hard, wonderful; had required a lot of effort, it had been easier than snapping one's fingers. Eventually, so much antagonism had gotten to him; there was always so much one person could take. His somewhat healed mind had told him 'This is it; you've taken enough'. But Wesker didn't want to stop taking it; in fact, he had to do it, he had to endure it. Otherwise, he'd be as weak as the rest of the people around.

But if Jill's mind was as injured as his own, then why had she been as strong as she was before? To top it off, her mind would've had to be fractured, wouldn't have been able to keep going in the precarious state Wesker had left it in; why was she still like before? She had set her own limits; why was she acting according to them and had even been stronger than Wesker would've ever been? That's what bothered him. If there was someone stronger than him, it meant he was weak, and a weakness was something he couldn't allow himself to have. Despite that, everyone had a weakness, even himself. And after so long, after refusing to have weaknesses of his own, Wesker understood what his own weakness was.

It had been his strength, his conviction.

That there was no room for empathy, that emotions were useless traits of the human soul. Banishing them from his soul had been essential, an indispensable task to fulfil, but that was the strength that had been his downfall. Surges of unexpected emotions were horrible, left one shaken, just like it had happened to Wesker many times throughout his life. Although that had kept him strong, it had also dealt a blow to his fragile self.

And all these thoughts, Wesker knew, were thoughts of someone who was truly insane.

He let out a long sigh, closing his notebook and turning back to the PG samples he was preparing.

The incursions to the underground garden and the caves had been despicably monotonous, so Wesker found thinking and musing the only methods to keep himself busy. The more he thought, the more conclusions he came to... and the more quirks he found about himself.

"You're making me fancy a bit of introspection, hm?"

The moment when he'd asked Jill that question came back to his mind in a flash, and Wesker smirked as he waited for the rain to seep through the crack in the ceiling of the large cavern.

Ah, Miss Valentine, if only you knew where your words have taken you...

The incursions required long trips to the underground garden, thorough and tense research, early rising and not enough sleep... but of course, this time he could mix business with amusement -just to avoid thinking about something else. It had all involved Jill Valentine.

Wesker had allowed himself the luxury of returning to the Tricell facility during the night and strolling through the long, well-lit halls of the building. There had been many times when he'd stumbled across Jill, but she had not noticed him being there; Wesker still knew how to be stealthy, of course. At first, she hadn't shown herself to be very upset about his absence -she'd always known of his prolonged absences and, as she herself had said, frustration would be pointless.

But on the fifth day without news from him, Jill started to grow uneasy with concern. And he'd seen it: he'd seen the traces of genuine concern across her features, he'd seen her cursing and insulting him out of nervousness, and Wesker had decided to let some more time go by. He had the feeling though that the more time that went by, the worst it'd be for him. Let her anxiety grow: Jill would receive his answers with much more expectations, and her hesitation towards revealing her own answers would disappear.

Wesker soon heard the echo of the raindrops falling upon the Progenitor flowers, the unrelenting 'Stairway to the Sun', and allowed himself to close his eyes as he listened to the sound with care.

Semper sub silentio.

xx

August 23rd, 2009

The same moment he stepped through the door of the control room, Wesker received a pleasant surprise: no scenes,no frustrated exclamations, only a very calm Jill who was sitting on the couch near the control panels, her bright gaze fixed upon a small notebook on which she was writing at a fast pace, her brow furrowed in concentration. With a smirk, Wesker recognized the notebook, the second notebook in her hands. Such a gift a certain someone had left her...

Gently, Wesker knocked twice upon the metal door, calling Jill's attention in mere seconds. They remained in silence, Jill blinking a few times in surprise before speaking,

"I had given up on you. I never thought you were going to come back, if you want me to be honest," she remarked as she closed both notebooks and stood up in front of him. "Where were you?"

"Why the curiosity?" Wesker asked in return as he went past her and propped himself against the consoles. "The least of your concerns should've been my whereabouts; what's this odd reaction of yours?"

"They have been one of my concerns, let me tell you," Jill snapped with a tinge of humour to her voice. "I still didn't get my answers, and I've been waiting for them."

"The answers, yes; that slipped my mind," he replied, making his tone sound purposefully absentminded. Jill folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

"Liar; it has been something you've thought about, hasn't it? You wouldn't have left if it wasn't like that." Wesker shook his head as the only response he had to give and then Jill shook her own, this time in disappointment. "In any case," she then piped up, "look what I found lying around... around my room, in fact."

The notebook; that notebook whose owner she still claims to not know. Oh, how naïve of her; can't she open her eyes?

Taking the notebook from her hands, Wesker skimmed through the pages in a couple of seconds and then handed it back to her. Jill kept silent, the tension spiking somewhat.

He was sure Jill had suspected he had already noticed the change in her behaviour when she was around him but, lately, it seemed as if that forced strong demeanour of hers had slowly faded away, showing the Jill she indeed was. To his chagrin -and maybe, amusement-, there was only one thing to do when it came dealing with Jill: speculation. There was no way to know if the changes had been genuine or if she was yet again pretending to be herself. Wesker's only option was to enter her mind and pry out her thoughts... and in that, he was extremely skilled.

Let's put a finger on the wound now, see if it stings.

"Do you know who it belongs to?" Wesker asked, inwardly laughing as she shook her head.

"Not yet, but I'll find out soon: I've seen this handwriting somewhere..." she mused out loud as she half-turned away from him. "Oh, do you know?"

And this is when I evade the question.

"I've never seen it before, so I'm afraid I can't answer this particular question," he replied with a flicker of his hand. "I can see it's a bit bizarre and not a lot of things are easy to decipher."

"There might be something else in the clues I have jotted down, like mentions to the language of flowers and what have you; maybe I haven't looked thoroughly enough." She then looked a bit crestfallen and contemplative, and Wesker decided to change the subject before all went to worse. It was all about leaving clues behind without actually spilling the beans so soon; a bit more of time needed to go by.

"I'm going to check up on Redfield. Care to accompany me?" he asked with a flicker of his hand. Right that instant, Jill's gaze seemed someone else's, and she nodded. With that, they both exited the control room and headed for the labs in the lower level.

But when they got there, they found Sherry's assistant, James, smiling at them... and a conscious Chris sitting on the examination table behind him.

What the hell is he doing here? He wasn't supposed to come... Sherry, I hope you have answers for this for me once we get back.

Wesker found himself showing more disconcert than intended and Jill let out a low gasp in shock. It was impossible: Chris, already conscious? The tests had said it would still take him a week to recover consciousness!

No, the tests were correct... Oh, bugger, would you look at his eyes? They're just like mine now... and that slouching, that apparent drowsiness: unmistakeable signs of P30 administration... but why were the samples still here? Unless... he brought them here himself, and he didn't even bother to say he was coming.

James stepped aside, the smile not disappearing from his features, and they both saw Chris was already standing up, his head lowered and arms limp.

"How the hell did you get here?" Jill demanded, adopting a defensive stance. James rolled his eyes, as if Jill had formulated a rhetorical question.

"I sneaked into the plane," he simply said. A short silence reigned, silence during which Wesker tensed almost inhumanly: he knew that sooner or later, Chris would attack.

And it was sooner than expected indeed.

"Christopher?"

James' voice worked as the perfect outer stimulus. At an astonishing speed, Chris lunged forward, having covered half the distance between them in mere seconds, but Wesker still preserved some of his skills. After making sure Jill was far from danger, he dashed forward at almost the same speed as his opponent and delivered a fierce drop-kick square in his chest... a move that didn't do much to stop Chris. He only skidded backwards, unfazed by the kick, and then kneed Wesker in the gut with such force that now Wesker got another chance of understanding the concept of excruciating pain.

Chris didn't relent and thrust Wesker against the floor with just a light push to his chest. Then, what both Jill and him dreaded. Chris approached Wesker leaving behind a mere black blur and drew back his foot to kick him again, and that would prove fatal: knowing how little force Chris had to muster to kick hard, Wesker didn't doubt that Chris would be able to snap his neck with only a pat. Before he could do so, Wesker rolled to one side and sprung to his feet, focusing on Chris' hunched figure.

He still can't keep up with his body weight, that's the reason behind the buckling of his knees. Everything is clear: he must see the world in hundreds of frames per second now... just like I did. The surges of adrenaline during combat adjust one's vision to allow optimal performance in tense situations like this one. The P30 must wear off soon; it's always metabolized too quickly.

Out of instinct, he glanced to his right and caught sight of James fleeing the room. Jill sprinted towards the door across the room, dashing past Wesker before exclaiming,

"Don't you dare kill him!",

which was something at which Wesker smirked with genuine humour.

Well, I'll try... as long as he doesn't kill me first.

With a mild frown and a killer sense that didn't fail to take over every time he had Chris in his sight, Wesker adopted a defensive stance, waiting for Chris to make his next move before the effects of the chemical wore off. Smirking, he dashed forward at the same time as Chris, engaging in an initial fistfight that was soon followed by a fierce fight with only kicks.

And speaking of kicks...

I'm going to get a real one out of this!

"Get back here, you bastard!" Jill shouted as she chased after James. He was a fast weasel, Jill had to give him that much, but one she would soon catch. She had been chasing him for a long time now, yet she didn't feel tired in the least; she was a stronger person and she would make it. And this time, Wesker wasn't here to take away her chances of revenge.

To her surprise and fortune, James cried out in pain and toppled over, falling face-first. Jill didn't waste any time: forcing her legs to run faster, she approached James and pinned him against the floor, rendering him immobile. James didn't struggle, only kept impossibly calm... with a syringe in hand. Jill was floored when she found out what had happened to him.

Suicide.

Then there's nothing else I can do with him. We won't know who he was working for, because he must've been someone's mole. If he was Sherry's assistant, then either she knew and had ignored that fact or was actually unaware of this. But we didn't notice him boarding the plane, and Sherry didn't mention he'd accompany us! Either way, there's no way of figuring that out now. Alright, I'd better return to the lab quickly, lest I find a bloodbath.

Though before doing so, she decided to search James' body for some kind of clue that would prove her suspicions. In the breast pocket of his white shirt, she found a small, neatly-folded piece of paper which she didn't hesitate to open and read. What she found was a quick annotation, something similar to the note Sherry had left her once.

LFlr, R34, 20-06-11-23

What's this? Coordinates, a code?

She allowed herself a few more seconds to piece it together and came up with the only plausible answer: a date.

November 23rd, 2006... I don't have much memory of what happened that day, apart from that I knew that I was-

"Because you're mine."

Jill shook her head, trying to clear it, and started walking back.

I'd better keep this; might lead somewhere.

At a quick pace, Jill returned to the lab room and, to her relief, found that the fight between Chris and Wesker had ended without casualties. In fact, Wesker seemed at his calmest and was propped against the wall next to the examination table where Chris was resting once again, his demeanour casual and unruffled. That didn't divert Jill's attention from the few cuts and blood remains in his cheekbone and jaw.

"I didn't kill him," he remarked, funnily stating the obvious. Jill left her hands inside her pockets, taking the opportunity to hide the note within her right one, and approached her companion, being careful not to reveal the discovery that had left her confused.

"Yeah, I can see that, and I guess I should thank you: you can control yourself after all," she remarked, a bit caustic. Whilst she suspected the last sentence had gotten to Wesker -a lot or a bit, it didn't matter-, he seemed not to care about it.

He can ignore a lot of things, but I'd better watch what I say.

"I have to," he said. "If not, you wouldn't see him breathing here, and you wouldn't be either. In any case, what about James?"

"He's dead. He injected himself with something that caused him to die, I don't know what," she replied, keeping her breathing steady, and looked at Chris. "Is he fine again?"

"Yes, there have been no problems and there won't be. The P30 is metabolized at an incredibly fast rate, so there will be no traces that interfere with anything," he explained, his tone convincing. "I need you to get me something."

"I'm up for the task, before you say anything else," Jill soon piped up. "What's this 'something' you need?"

"Some files and various status reports I keep in a safe place."

Jill couldn't help it: she cocked an eyebrow in scepticism. "Alright, then if this place is as 'safe' as you say, then why are you sending me of all people to get it? Wouldn't that just... ruin the fun, put something at risk?"

"I don't think so. Sooner or later, I'd have to take you there, anyway," Wesker replied, nonchalant.

"So you trust me?"

"Whatever made you assume that?" he said, showing his enjoyment with a short laugh. "Don't make such reckless assumptions, Miss Valentine; they won't get you anywhere. The files I need are in the lower floor, room thirty-four, first shelf on the left. You can't miss it."

"Very well, I'll go fetch them." With that, Jill left the room and headed to the designed destination.

Holy-! Everything's clicking! 'LFlr' meant 'Lower Floor'; 'R34' meant 'Room 34'! What about the next series of numbers, though? There must be something that can be opened with that combination, like a safe or something... Wait, a 'safe place', he said? That... that can't apply to it: he couldn't have told me something about a safe! I wonder... is this another one of the clues he's leaving behind? But why would he had left this one within James' shirt? They couldn't be in cahoots; it doesn't make any sense! Unless... unless he was a spy, which does make sense.

Sooner than she expected, she was in front of room 34, which was unlocked, and entered inside as she flicked on the light switch. It was a small study, with shelves to both sides of the room and a sturdy table with many stacks of papers neatly organized. It was somehow cosy, but at the same time unsettling. Reluctant, Jill went in deeper, inspecting the room with care. She found the requested files upon the correct shelf and picked up the folder which contained them, deciding to leave as soon as she could... but she soon remembered the number combination.

Safe, safe, safe, safe... There doesn't seem to be one here. I guess my assumption was wrong, but I won't discard it. It has to lead to- Hey, what's this?

Jill came across a few sheets of paper scattered across the floor, sheets of paper she then discovered that were pages of a notebook that had been torn off. With curiosity -something that can kill the cat, as she told herself-, she picked them up and had a quick look at the sentences that were written in one of them. Jill recognized the handwriting right away, almost as if she had seen it her whole life. It was the one in the second notebook she had.

It was Wesker's.

She didn't need more than five seconds to memorize the paragraph that was written, something that left her with a knot in her stomach and a sudden hole in her chest. She left the sheets upon the table and dashed out of the room, not caring if she left the door open or closed. Why would something like a paragraph cause her to be so shocked, so nervous?

Because she had just found out what the clues pointed at, because she knew why there were so many similarities between him and the person described through the notebook's words, because now she knew she needed no answers from Wesker: it was all piecing itself together. It was almost impossible, and one of their conversations suddenly came to her mind like a frightening cold breeze.

XX

"What did you expect me to do?" Jill exclaimed with a light snort. "After all these years and all the effort, you wouldn't be expecting a pleasant reaction. What would you have wanted me to do? Smile at you, perhaps?"

"Not then."

"What about now?"

"I'd appreciate if you did. After all, I'm not intent on harming you, not as I was before."

xx

Calm down, Jill, calm down! But... but it's-it's impossible, it's unbelievable... Good God, I'd better steady my breathing or I'll be about to hyperventilate! I never thought I'd get like this, I know how to keep a cool head!

xx

Sherry had left her that small note, and also learnt that it was Wesker who it had referred to...

The language of flowers.

XX

Jill stopped her accelerated walk and leaned against a wall, breathing in and out loudly and clutching the folder to her chest with unconscious strength. Unable to keep herself on foot, she flexed her knees and sank to the floor, leaving the folder beside her and dropping her head as the nervousness -perhaps even panic- subsided. A few minutes later, she heard steps approaching her position but she didn't bother to lift her head; she knew very well whose steps those were.

No, go away, go away, go away!

"Why can't I let go? Why can't you let go of me, dammit?! Why can't you disappear?!"

Tears threatened to spill once again when she thought her demeanour would belie her feelings. Jill heard the shuffle of soft cloth near her, but she still didn't move an inch. In fact, a sudden weariness overcame her and rendered her weak, rendered her muscles unable to work like they should. She was left only with willpower, willpower she didn't even use to look up.

"What's wrong?" To her surprise, his voice didn't sound too harsh, but obviously not too gentle either. She refused to lift her gaze at him and allow him to see the truth, because she knew it was living in her eyes, burning like some kind of flame.

"I just... I just felt a bit sick, that's all," Jill lied, hoping it'd sound convincing. Judging by Wesker's silence, she knew he was distrustful. "Sorry if I took too long. Here." Rubbing her eyes with her fingers -completely to avoid looking at him-, she picked up the folder with her free hand and lifted it up for him to take it.

"Did you just apologize?" Wesker inquired as if it had been the oddest thing in the world. Jill decided against standing up, but then she did as she wanted and gave a weak nod.

"But don't think it's been my intention," she replied without even caring what words left her lips. When she opened one of her eyes, she caught sight of a smirking Wesker who had taken care of his trivial wounds. She tried to keep the surge of rage that coursed through her under a leash, and she did it with great difficulty.

"Given the circumstances, I would say it is unnatural, and even more if it's coming from you," he said, his smirk widening to something close to a smile. "Besides, I hadn't suspected it would be your doing. As I said, no room for apologies."

"Especially when it's not me, but you!" Jill exclaimed, soon regretting what she had said.

"It's me, in what way?" he inquired next. A bolt of surprise struck Jill, almost rendering her immobile, but this wasn't the time to withdraw: she was treading on thin ice, it didn't matter anymore if it broke or not. She stood firm and tilted her head downwards.

"That'll have to wait," Jill replied in the same way he had done days ago.

"Fair enough. Given the time it is, I'd suggest you get some rest but alas, the choice is up to you."

What is with his mood swings? One moment he looks ready to kill me, and the next he's asking about my well-being! I don't know if to- Ah, what the hell... Right now, it's better to go with the flow; I'll be risking my neck much less.

"No, I believe I should," Jill intervened, keeping her voice steady. "It's been a bit of a tense day and it's worn me out. You should get some rest too; there's not much we can do now." Her breath suddenly hitched when she realized what she had said.

It's not concern, it's not concern... God, am I really worrying about him?

"Are you really concerned about me?" he said as if he had read her thoughts. "You are one of the oddest people I've ever met, and you inevitably keep amusing me once in a while. I won't keep you any longer; go and rest."

Jill remained silent, for a few moments unmoving, and then left for her room at a quick pace -Careful! Not too quick-. Once she was sure she was out of his sight and earshot, Jill broke into a run up the hall, imagining the Devil was chasing her without relent so as to have more energy than the one she had. The adrenaline even made tears sting at her eyes, but there was no time to shed them... there was no time.

Sooner than she expected, she came across the door to her room, crossed it and slammed it shut behind her, pushing against the imaginary weight of the Devil's body that was trying to break down the door and catch her, torture her, kill her.

It's all in my head, it's all in my head...

Unable to resist any longer, Jill sank to the floor once again, shedding the tears she had refused to spill for so long. It was like the dream Alice wanted to wake up from but, no matter what she thought or did, Wonderland was still there. Jill was still falling down the rabbit hole, soon to touch the bottom and end her endless fall.

"We're all mad here," the Cheshire Cat would've said. But the question still lingered.

Was she mad, too? She didn't have to fear; Jill didn't have to fear: many times, the sanest were the insane.

Following her insane instincts and her insane conviction, Jill ventured out of her room, on a quest to find whom she considered to be as mad as a March Hare. As she walked, she smiled.

I'm already in the bottom of the rabbit hole; now, I just need to find the right door to cross. I am mad, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess. How to get out of it though without paying... it's not possible. I'm going to find out; even though the truth is cruel, it's better than ignorance.

xx

The underground garden was the only place he could now call safe, since it was quite far from everything and everyone. It gave him some peace of mind and serenity to arrange his thoughts again, piece them together and secure them. But as he stared at the sliver of star-strewn sky he could see through the crack in the cavern's ceiling, Wesker found it impossible to keep his mind from becoming a mess.

For the first time in aeons, Wesker felt troubled... and because of emotions, no less. They still gave him a hard time, even though he knew and had accepted not too long ago that he wasn't going to be the one he was before his second death. The human mind was one of the most simplest and most complex of things that existed; there was no denying that fact. And it was because of that fact that he had such a strong grasp on everything that concerned a person's mind, but he also felt his grasp on everything that concerned his own mind was still a bit slack.

Should I actually let everything come, see if I can handle it? No, that would destroy everything I have, reduce it to simple pieces I wouldn't be able to put back together... But maybe it's because I'm reluctant towards change? To hell with it, yours truly is ready for what's to come. Envy can be a powerful ally when directed towards the right person.

So many thinking to do, so many answers to search for... and so little time.

And speaking of answers, why hasn't she insisted upon the matter lately? She doesn't have those sudden changes of mind; that, I know for sure.

His mind went back to his previous thought: envy, a powerful ally? That much was true, but why think about it? Had he really been envious? If that had been the case, of whom? Oh, he knew very well who he was envious of, and he still was; a bit less now, but that envy still lingered.

I'd say you're a lucky bastard, Redfield, but it's my turn to feel lucky now. I'm going to take her away from you, just like you did; not because of revenge, because I want to.

The ground behind him crunched under someone's feet, and Wesker took a very deep breath as he closed his eyes. Oh, how well he knew who was coming... the only person who could actually walk so silently, so lithely. He tore his gaze away from the sky and turned to his visitor: Jill Valentine in person.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you had decided to escape," Wesker said as if there was nothing wrong; remarks like those tended to come out whenever he was uneasy. Jill shook her head with a short sigh.

"I can't get any sleep," she replied, her tone crestfallen, "and as I can see, so can't you." Jill then gazed at the sky. "Looks like a nice night. Think you could use some company?"

What did she come here for? To humiliate me, perhaps?

"I don't see why not," he said in agreement, "but I have the feeling something's not right."

"You know I know, don't you?" asked Jill, fixating him with a steel gaze. After a few moments of silence, Wesker nodded. "Why?"

"I told you before: so that we understood each other," he replied, forcing himself not to snap at her and end the conversation; it was almost killing him.

"But if I told you I already understand?" Jill asked, not moving from her place.

"Then I'd say that's a lie," he said promptly. "You haven't crossed the last door yet. You're about to, though: who is this person you were left clues about?"

Even though Jill replied a second later, it felt like an endless silence to Wesker. Jill's serenity didn't disappear from her features, her gaze cold and resolute but also concerned and sorrowful. The answer came.

"It's you."

The choice had been made. It was now or never.

Keep walking and walking, don't mind the pain,
If not, you'll see everything will have been in vain.
Turn the handle, open the door,
it's all inside, you can't ask for more!

A/N: So, we have a bit more of progress: they're both starting to understand, there's another mole (fortunately dead now xD) amongst them and Chris is getting back up. Don't worry, we'll get to him soon. And if anybody seemed OOC here, tell me: I have my reasons for setting everything like I did.

Reviews are appreciated!^^