Author's Note: Next update, and I have a piece of news: thanks to exams this next weeks, the updates might catch up to the chapters I have written; however, I'll try to work as fast as I can, so don't worry. I'll do my best not to delay any updates, since we still have five or six chapters left till the end. Things are getting complicated in this one now, so I leave you to read!

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

XIX

Nebunie
(Madness, Romanian)

'If you are going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance!' Anonymous

August 26th, 2009

"Are we leaving now, mis...mister?"

David couldn't help jumping in surprise, taking a hand to his chest as he realized who was standing behind him. Vithar had his head cocked to one side, his shoulder slumped as always, his knees buckled as always, and his ever-present gleam of tiredness and insanity in his sapphire gaze. The poor boy was cataplexic, hence why he always looked so tired and lacking energy to even breathe.

David nodded. "Yes. I was actually waiting for you, Vithar." The boy nodded, yawning, and stepped past David before he asked, "Vithar, can you tell me about you and Freya?"

Vithar turned with a sharp movement. "Why would you want to know? There's only pain and darkness in our...our pasts. My sis and I never talk about it."

"I'm sorry then, I didn't mean anything by that," said David, dipping his head at the black-haired boy.

"But I want to tell you," Vithar continued, and his words left David confused. "We're not really si...siblings by blood, but because of our long...long history together. Freya was born during Ceaucescu's regime in Romania and after he was dismissed, she was sold to the black market. I myself was born in Romania too, also in condi...conditions of poverty. I was...was abandoned by my family because they could...couldn't feed my siblings and me. I was the youngest so...so I was bought by dealers. Coin...coincidentally I met Freya whilst in...in the dealer's hands. In 1999, we...we were taken in by the Gionne family and were... were trained as assassins."

"But why like assassins? Are you so desperate to kill people?" David asked, shocked after hearing Vithar's and Freya's story. Vithar gave a tired smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"We're not desperate to kill and tear families apart; it's because we want to. People have forgotten our tragedy, have... have forgotten all we went through. They...they think we're scum and worthless trash. Fre...Freya and I decided it was time to...to show them we are still in this world, as something more than scum," explained the boy, rubbing his eyes like a three year old child. David frowned, somehow understanding how Vithar felt.

David himself had been born into Romania during the regime, coming from a Norwegian family, and by the age of five he had been taken out of the country and taken under his uncle's care in Finland. He had never heard from his parents ever since. He had been close to losing his sanity but thanks to his remaining family, he had kept sane.

If only the same had happened to Vithar.

xx

With the files stored in the data core of the facility and a password forbidding access to anyone who didn't know about it, their protection was assured. With the password in your mind and with the intention of not saying a damned word about it, it was even more protected. But not when hacking was a solution to the problem.

It hadn't taken Wesker seconds to notice something was wrong with the main computer, since he never, ever left the menu and the search screen open. Upon further examination, he came to a dreadful conclusion about which he knew who to blame. Someone had been snooping around the files stored there and had selected four specific ones: his and Chris' medical report and the notes enclosed to them, the main report about the new formula of PG and what left him with a bitter taste, the continuation of his research on Uroboros.

And they weren't stored there anymore.

In that moment, right when a curse was about to break the silence, Chris and Jill made their appearance at the elevator, and Wesker was brought out of his thoughts by the question that was meant to be asked.

"Is there something wrong?"

"There is, and something of which you might be held responsible," he replied, gazing at Jill. "Where did you leave James after you found him dead?"

Jill frowned. "I didn't move him from where he was... and he really was dead, if that's what you're asking-" She soon interrupted herself, apparently having reached the same conclusion Wesker had a split second ago. "You mean it could all have been a ruse to fool us?"

"Most likely," Wesker nodded. "Fake death pills are of great use sometimes, and too bad there was no way to notice it; the syringe was a good way to make it seem otherwise. We have to get out of here now, and we might find him along the way if he isn't gone yet. Is everything set?" This time, he looked at Chris, who nodded as a response.

"Chopper will be here in hour and a half. I set the extraction point at the helipad at the dock."

"Then let's leave this formatting; there's nothing of good use here now."

"It's the BSAA who're coming?" Jill asked Chris, and Wesker closed his eyes in exasperation. The last thing he needed was to have more agents of the Alliance behind his trail: he was officially dead. Having been alive for so long sometimes made you forget the remaining billions of people thought you dead and buried hundreds of feet underground.

"Yeah," Chris replied. "There's no need to worry about double-crossers now: it's Sheva and Josh who're coming. You should've heard them, Jill." His tone changed, fact that told Wesker he was either smirking or smiling; he still refused to look back at him.

"What about the rest of the files?" Jill asked.

"The four most important ones were taken by the weasel James is," Wesker replied as he punched in a code (20-06-11-23), and then the sign of 'ALL DATA DELETION' came up on the screen, "but that's of little importance. I didn't keep security copies for nothing." Instinctively, he took his hand to one of his pockets and felt for the small USB disk stored inside; it still was there.

Too bad I didn't have time to update the files. This will have to-

Before he could finish the thought, all the lights were turned off and the wail of an alarm pierced the silence they had allowed to reign. The only source of light were the small red bulbs posted upon the doors' thresholds; there was no other way to keep track of what happened around him. And then, on the screen, appeared the notice that reminded Wesker of the conversation he had kept up with Chris a few days ago.

"What we can do is hope there's no electricity cut. This facility has a nasty security system: if the lockdown commences, there'll be no way to get out of here."

'COMPLEX LOCKDOWN INITIATED'.

Then if this has started, the auxiliary exit will be opened in minutes!

Although there was no time to stay and check, Wesker -and later, Chris- trotted to the edge of the elevator and stole a glance at the bottomless pit the shaft seemed to be. They couldn't see anything -maybe Chris could, but anyway- but they soon heard the creaking of the gate, holding its ground against the pressure.

"It's not open yet; we still have time," said Chris, who in fact could see.

"We'll take the east door, it gets to the outside faster," Jill intervened, starting towards the door opposite the one she and Chris and entered through.

Before the rest of them could move, they heard a feminine voice ringing loudly throughout the shaft.

"Te duci să moară!!" it shouted as the owner of the voice didn't reveal herself.

"Get to the door, now!" That was all Wesker needed to run at full pelt out of the shaft, pushing Chris and Jill to get them to do the same as him. They didn't need any explanations, but as soon as they were at midway of the bridge, the door to the elevator started to close and fast. The bolt of surprise that struck Wesker didn't take a split second to put all systems to work at their maximum; otherwise, they wouldn't make it.

"Te duci să moară!!" the voice shouted again, this time in a much more shriller tone.

"Go, go! Hurry!" Chris exclaimed as they all increased their speed as much as they could. Jill crawled under the door and made it to the other side by the skin of her teeth, but the same couldn't be said about him and Chris, who soon found a solution to their problem. It was their only way of avoiding a certain death, a death which was seconds away from getting them and claiming their lives. Before the door could close, Chris ducked under it, half of his body already on the other side, and held the door's weight upon his shoulder, easing the force of the weight with his hands.

"Come on!" he urged Wesker, but he was already halfway under the door. He turned around and held the door as well as he could so Chris could escape from its weight in time; for all intents and purposes, they had to cooperate this time or else failure in the form of death was granted.

Suddenly, everything returned to normal: the sirens went quiet, the doors stopped closing, they heard the boom of the gate closing, the lights returned and so did silence. Like nothing had ever happened.

Chris shifted his stance, withdrawing from under the door, and they saw it had indeed stopped. Jill ducked behind them and asked, "What just happened?"

"Override sequence?" Chris asked Wesker, not without reluctance. Wesker stayed silent for a moment, quickly scanning the shaft for anyone's presence. At last, focusing on Chris' question, he gave a light nod.

"And that hasn't been us or whoever's around here," he then said, his voice pitched low. "Keep silent, head up the hall, double quick." Wesker was sure that order had surprised his companions: once in a mission in S.T.A.R.S., he'd issued the same command in the same tone. Such bitter memories.

Without a sound, Wesker sprung to his feet along with Chris and Jill and headed up the hall, their steps as quick and silent as they could give them. As they kept trotting through the halls that snaked and bended throughout the facility, Jill inquired,

"What language was that?"

Chris was the one to answer. "It's Romanian," he replied, then spoke with a teasing tone. "It looks like you didn't pay much attention at our assignment in Craiova."

"We're going to die, that's what she said," Wesker piped up as they took a turn. At the foot of a staircase, Wesker stopped and so did the others.

Looks like she's not following us.

"Our things are all packed; there are just a couple of duffel bags to carry with us," Jill said, breaking the silence. "We only need to go and get them."

"I'm faster; I'll go get them," Chris offered, and Wesker tilted his head.

"You're reckless, did you know that?" he said, more a statement than a question. Chris scowled at him, his nose wrinkling slightly as he showed his annoyance.

"Let's not waste time," Jill piped up, stepping between them. "Chris, I'll be fine; I don't need you to worry about me, but yourself." Silence ensued, silence during which Chris showed himself to be extremely reluctant to let her go with Wesker, who was enjoying his dilemma.

Afraid that I'll take her away from you again?

"Okay," Chris agreed at last, "you're right: we're wasting time." Wesker didn't move, but kept mocking him inwardly.

Finally some sensible reasoning coming from you, Chris.

"We'll meet up at the dock, just in case you can't catch up," said Wesker, deciding to intervene and keeping his voice from sounding caustic. No special reason behind it; if Chris engaged in a verbal fight, they would keep wasting time. "Don't take too long," he added as he started trotting up the staircase, Jill following closely at a firm pace.

"I just hope he's fine," he heard Jill whisper. Her remark made him smirk with dark humour.

"You can't imagine how much I disagree to that."

xx

Chris retraced his steps and took the hall opposite to the one they had taken, heading west of the facility to the main lab rooms. His photographic memory, along with his newly-acquired speed, helped him reach the room in no time and with no troubles at all, although he did keep an eye out for the stranger who was stalking them. Chris heard her cackles here and there, echoing through the halls, accompanied by metallic clinging and a sound as loud and shrill as the one of nails being slid down a wall. Fortunately, she hadn't decided to go and get Jill; he couldn't care less about Wesker. Chris could handle the stranger.

Once inside the room, he caught sight of the bags resting on top of the table and approached it. At midway, a wave of pain struck him unexpectedly and triggered a loud ringing in his ears: the symptoms that told him he was in need of a PG shot. His vision swam before his eyes and he felt an incredibly intense sickness settle in his stomach. His pride was hurt: how the hell had he come to behave as someone like Wesker? Why was he using all that he had used to tame the virus inside him?

No, not to tame the virus, but the MONSTER!

There's no way I can keep myself alive if it isn't with the PG. I have to take a shot!

To keep taming the MONSTER!

No, I'm no monster!

In less time than he could think of, Chris reached inside a bag for a small attaché case and fumbled with the latches as he tried to open it with shaky hands. For some reason, terror was getting the best of him; those thoughts that had just assailed his mind were the stimuli for that terror to arise and take over. Finally, he could grab a syringe and inject himself with it, his blood burning when the substance started coursing through his bloodstream. When the vial was empty, Chris yanked it out carelessly, drawing a bit of blood, and threw the empty syringe against the nearest wall. Rage followed that terror, terror followed that rage: it was a constant succession of emotions that were making him sicker than the lack of serum.

"Te duci să moară," the girlish voice spoke behind him. With a brusque movement, Chris swivelled around and found their stalker standing feet away from him: a girl, a deadly pale girl with whitish hair and intense onyx eyes.

She giggled, eyeing him intently as Chris stared in disbelief. For a short moment, he lost rationality and was unable to move, only able to keep trying to calm his escalated breathing. The girl was smiling like a devil, clenching and unclenching her fists around the two kukri knives she had in her hands.

"Sunteţi un monstru ca mine," she said, tilting her head as her gaze acquired a sympathetic gleam.

"Nu sunt monstru!" Chris exclaimed, using the little Romanian he knew. "Cine esti tu?" he then asked, adopting a defensive stance and keeping a close eye on the kukri.

"Freya," she simply said, taking a few steps towards him. Chris gasped, backing away. Why was he so afraid? What was making him lose control? Freya stopped and smiled. "Nu vă fie teamă. Înţeleg cum te simţi," she then told him.

"What-what did you just say?" Chris inquired, raising his voice, but Freya wasn't intimidated by that.

"I said that you don't have to be afraid. I understand how you feel," she replied, her voice soft and gentle. That gentleness was like a thousand daggers to Chris, who had the unmistakeable feeling that he was going insane. It was a pulsating, throbbing sensation in his mind, a sensation of helplessness and impotence, a sensation of fear and anger, of wicked glee and mirth.

"You don't understand! I'm not a monster," he growled, tensing beyond human levels. In the end, Freya smiled more widely and raised the kukri.

"Să lupta!" exclaimed Freya as she charged, both kukri gripped tightly. He didn't understand, but there was no need to. Chris avoided her initial slashes, focusing as much as he could in deciphering her attack pattern and find the proper counterattack, but Freya kept attacking in different ways, each one trickier and trickier. One of the kukri was inches from slitting his throat; stumbling backwards had worked to Chris' advantage this time. He fell onto his back and kept moving from one side to another to dodge the girl's vicious attacks. Her insane cackles were even louder than the sound the kukri emitted when they clashed against the white-tiled floor, and Chris soon disposed of her with a fierce kick to her gut.

He sprung to his feet and rushed to where Freya was thanks to his superhuman speed, something he wasn't used to use when in battle. He kicked the kukri out of her hands and pinned her against the floor by the throat. Freya gasped for air, wriggling and fighting desperately to free herself from his grip, but Chris wouldn't let go; in fact, he didn't. He suddenly felt like a sadist, delighting in seeing his victims in pain, and tried to fight off that sensation without avail. He liked it: it was bittersweet. He could taste it, and found it the most pleasant taste ever: the taste of an enemy's death, the taste of his own death.

One of Freya's strangled gasps brought him back to reality, and Chris released her with an exclamation in horror and surprise: what had he just tried to do? He stared at the girl, who coughed and scrambled away from him with a look of terror across her pale features.

"Monstru! Monstru!" she repeated over and over again, and the truth dawned upon Chris like a morbid surprise. In that moment, Freya's eyes filled with tears which soon trailed down her bony cheeks and she stood up, looking at him with her eyes ablaze with hate. "Va veti pierde, şi nu va fi nimeni să vă ajutăm!"

With that, she ran away, leaving Chris in a stone silence. In that moment, he wanted to have someone near him not to ask for consolation, but to hurt them and palliate his anger and anguish through inflicting pain in others. It seemed sick, but it was what would make him feel better. Chris shook his head, trying to clear it, but that thought wouldn't leave his mind.

"I'm... I almost killed her, and... and I was liking it..." he whispered, noticing something wet flowing down his face. Without caring about what he had to do, Chris brought both hands to his head and stayed sitting at the foot of the table, shaking uncontrollably.

"What's happening to me...?"

You're going INSANE, Redfield, that's what's happening.

In-insane?

INSANE, you know it. In fact, you went insane long ago; the thing is you haven't shown it. Finally, it's time to let it show, let everyone see what you're made of.

No, I'm not insane! I can't be!

Yeah, you keep denying it. It'll come back and bite you in the ass, and you'll feel the most excruciating PAIN of your life.

NO! I'm NOT insane!! I still myself, I'm no monster!!

Chris ducked his head even more, hiding his face from sight, and exclaimed in pain as he tried to keep the dilemma on a leash. What if he was truly insane? He couldn't be, it simply couldn't be! It was all so far-fetched that he didn't want to accept it. But insanity could invade even the purest of minds, that much was certain.

Suddenly, Chris heard more voices, this time many that called his name at the same time. Their pitches were different, but he soon understood they belonged to the same person. Ginger, he snapped out of his thoughts and lifted his head, finding Jill crouching in front of him and shaking him gently whilst she took his shoulders.

"Chris! Chris, answer me!" she pleaded, her eyes gleaming with alarm and concern, but Chris didn't reply, simply remained looking at her. He couldn't speak, he didn't want to, in fact. In the end, he blinked a few times and uttered,

"Jill?"

She sighed in relief and took his hand. "Yeah, it's me. What's wrong? What are you doing here?" she asked, helping him to stand up. "We were starting to get worried about you; are you okay?"

Chris nodded, presenting Jill with a blatant lie; it wasn't the best time for her to know. "Yeah, I just... I think I passed out; I-I needed a PG shot," he explained, taking a hand to his head and rubbing his temple. Knowing how bright Jill was and how well she knew him, Chris had the feeling Jill had seen through his lie and would insist right then and there, but that didn't happen.

Jill, I'm going insane! He would've liked to tell her, but it was better if he kept those thoughts to himself for the moment.

"That's good to hear. C'mon, I'll help you," Jill offered, reaching for one of the bags. When she looked back up at him, Chris saw her frowning. "Chris, you're shaking!"

Chris blinked a few times in surprise as a shiver ran down his spine. Unconsciously, he glanced out at his hands: indeed, they were shaking beyond normalcy. Surprise course through him: he hadn't even noticed! And the same happened with his knees, which threatened to buckle under him and cause him to collapse. Chris shook his head, swallowing, and met Jill's gaze.

"It must be the secondary effects. Don't worry, this has happened before." In truth, it hadn't happened before. It was the first time Chris was feeling like that, and it certainly wasn't because of the secondary effects the serum had on him, no. This was different. Jill remained silent for a few more seconds, her frown not disappearing, until she sighed, laid a hand on his own and said, "Alright, then I trust you. Let's get going; we're going home now."

It was not without trepidation that Chris broke into a run behind Jill. Somehow, Chris literally dreaded seeing everyone again, especially Claire. His mind was divided; he didn't know what to think. The reasonable side of his mind told him there was nothing to be concerned about; Claire would see he was still alive and that's the only thing that mattered. The other side, the irrational but sensible one, told him Claire would see him as a brother no more: he had become that which he hated the most.

It's because you're a MONSTER, and you can't do anything about that.

I shouldn't be thinking like this. I'm sure I can explain everything to Claire; with a bit of time, she will understand.

And that was his biggest mistake.

Why do you take everything for granted?

Chris didn't reply to that question: Jill's voice brought him out of his thoughts once again. "Chris, are you really okay? Your mind keeps going to the clouds; it's freaking me out," she told him, another frown across her face. Chris felt like an automaton, lacking control of his own actions and acting like a robot: he had completely spaced out and had left his body working on its own, and it felt weird every time he was brought down to the real world again.

Taking a deep breath, Chris looked away from her and bit his lip. In the end, he said, "I'll... tell you once we get back, alright? It's not the proper place to talk about it." He caught the look of surprise that flashed across her features, but she didn't insist any further and nodded, although not without reluctance. Chris flashed her a faint smile, one she returned. He looked up in front of him, caught sight of the helicopter already with its engines warmed up and of three people waiting at the helipad: Wesker, Sheva and Josh. Chris felt a pinch of relief after seeing them there, but trepidation still clouded his mind.

"Chris, Jill!" he heard Sheva exclaim as she and Josh neared them. Chris couldn't help being upset by their arrival, neither could he help feeling relieved by their presence. So much antagonism... He received an encouraging look from Jill, but that didn't do much good. When Sheva and Josh were close enough, they stopped in their tracks, Sheva's face being the one that showed more shock. Chris couldn't take his gaze away from them even if he wanted to; he knew what would happen if he kept staring at them, but also if he turned away.

"Chris, what-?" Sheva started and, as Chris expected, she couldn't finish the sentence. Eventually, she did, "What happened to you?"

Chris took a deep breath, nodding gravely in agreement.

"Everything's vice-versa, isn't it?" It wasn't a question, but a statement. Jill frowned at him, giving a low sigh, and Sheva neared Chris, hesitant, as if looking for something in his gaze. "This is what's happened, Sheva," he said, his tone low. Afterwards, he flashed her a sad smirk, "and mind your words about me next time, will you?"

"Even a superhero like you, Chris."

It hadn't been a second before Chris realized Sheva understood what he meant.

"Chris-" started Josh, but Chris held a hand to silence him.

"We'll talk later and... and I'll explain everything. I'm not in the best of moods now," he told Josh, staring into his eyes. Chris' heightened sense of smell allowed him to discern two familiar but till now unknown scents: the scents of fear, doubt and trepidation. Both Sheva and Josh reeked of them and, for some reason, Chris couldn't take it.

"Chris, at least tell us a bit," Jill insisted, and Chris had to stifle the urge to snap at her with all the rage he held inside. The best thing he could do was calm down and reply without being harsh. As he made that decision, a smirk spread across his features and he chuckled, realizing what he was doing. Only someone who was insane would laugh at something like his condition.

"Really, I insist, don't listen to me for now," he said, lifting his gaze at the two Africans, and it was then when Chris saw a look of nervousness across Sheva's features. "Just... have in mind that I'm not who you think I am anymore."

Leave me be... please; don't come close to me anymore...

Erasing his smirk from his face, Chris laid a hand on Sheva's shoulder before stepping past them and heading for the helicopter, fighting desperately to keep his head high. He didn't hear them following him, neither did he need to hear that. He couldn't face them, and he certainly couldn't dump all of his worries and troubles off on them. Chris needed to keep his distance, even from Jill, especially from Jill.

Wesker's silhouette became clearer as he approached him, and Chris wanted to believe Wesker's gaze was lost somewhere in the distance and not following him as stepped in front of the helicopter. He was wrong.

"You'll get used to it soon."

"I don't need any words coming from you, so save them!" Chris replied, deadly harsh. Chris knew Wesker wouldn't normally turn his head to him but now, he did, and it repulsed him. To stare into the eyes that could still be his, to hear the calm voice that could still be his: it was unnerving, terrifying, madness-inducing. They looked so alike to what they were before that Chris wanted to strip Wesker of his own nature and claim it for himself, because he knew Wesker had stolen it from him.

What-what is this? Jealousy?! Why am I feeling like this? I have nothing to envy him for!!

"You're getting snappier by the minute, aren't you?" Wesker prompted once again, this time no amusement present in his features. That was the last straw: with only so much as a side-step, Chris placed himself in front of Wesker and grabbed him by the neck -and not the collar of his shirt, like Chris would've done with someone else. He shoved him roughly against the helicopter and kept his sworn enemy at arm's length as he pressed hard, feeling how Wesker's trachea would give in at any given moment.

Wesker struggled against Chris' grip subtly, so much that he didn't even stop to gasp for air and immediately pried at Chris' hand, easing the grip. Chris wouldn't budge though and kept pressing. It was there once more: the sensation he'd felt when choking Freya, this time its intensity having multiplied a hundredfold, this time because it was his enemy who was in front of him, prying at Chris' fingers with two gloved hands. Ah, and so weak... they were so weak they couldn't do anything.

Control yourself, keep it at bay! You're NOT like this!!

"You're... you've finally realized, haven't you?" Wesker managed to say, a cruel smirk upon his face. "Now... you will understand e-everything..."

It's because you're a MONSTER, and you can't do anything about that.

"Chris, stop it!!"

He jolted awake like coming out of a dream, no dizziness or daze to shake off, and he jerked his arm away, feeling like an electric shock had struck it. Chris watched Wesker stagger slightly as he regained his balance, and he remained staring at him as horror coursed through his body once more. He heard Jill, Sheva and Josh stepping beside him, and Jill took the liberty of placing herself in front of him.

Get out of my way.

KILL her! Come ON!

Chris continued to ignore the voice in his head, the voice coming from another part of his mind. That was no different voice though: it was his own, they were his instincts. He fixed his gaze upon Jill's determined one, a scowl on her features and her eyes narrowed. Her breathing was calm and rhythmical, showing how much of a cool head she was keeping.

That won't be enough to stop you.

He caught Wesker's gaze upon him, and he clenched his fist to keep anger at bay; it wasn't the moment for the others to watch a massacre.

Ma-massacre? What am I thinking?

"If we're complete opposites now, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut," Chris growled, his words dripping with rage. "That won't be for long though. I'll get myself back and fight this, because I refuse to be like you."

But even Chris wasn't sure of his own words.

xx

He was alone, again, thinking, pondering.

Much to his fortune, the humid and salty beach breeze did some good and helped him arrange his thoughts, but Chris knew he still had a long way to go till everything was in order. He stared at the orange and pastel skyline in front of him, which reminded him of the time when he and his family had come to Miami to visit some distant relatives. That day, Claire had stubbornly insisted to get down to the beach, even though Chris himself hadn't been too fond of the idea. From that day on, looking at the sea would be the only thing that'd help him clear his mind.

"We Redfields tend to keep going until the end, no matter what."

Too bad that the good man Sean Redfield had been was long gone.

Chris was surprised to find nobody around when he had a look at his surroundings, the sand as calm and unruffled as if it had never been stepped on. The only footsteps that were around were his own, a mere pair of footprints that would be left where he had stood. Suddenly, with renewed conviction, Chris looked to his right, found nothing but sand in his way. This sand didn't have any footprints on it either: what did it mean? Could it possibly mean that he had to walk down a new path, make it his own? Unexplored things tended to end up explored, and it would be the same thing with these sands.

What can I do?

"You will fall, but you'll learn to pick yourself up and keep going, because that's the only thing you will be able to do."

Too bad that the strong woman Amanda Redfield, née Saunderson had been was long gone.

He missed them, Chris missed them terribly. It was because of the sudden wave of nostalgia that struck him that he did not move, lost his conviction, started shaking. He didn't even feel the knot that caught in his throat, the sorrow that overcame him. Then, without thinking, he started running, leaving rushed but solid footprints in his wake, symbolizing the start of his new path.

And then, he fell into the eternal darkness.

XX

Pennsylvania, USA
August 27th, 2009
3:30 am.

Jill watched Chris' eyes snap open, wide and gleaming intensely as he sat up and recovered from his sleep. There seemed to be no middle ground between his daze and full awareness: he went from one state to the other in mere milliseconds. Without a sound, she waited for him to notice her, but Chris seemed engrossed in thought as his blank gaze stared at nowhere in particular. Unable to bear with the sight of him because of the grief that would strike her every time, Jill lowered hers and kept it hidden behind her arms.

It had been the early hours of the morning when they had arrived to the States from Africa, close to one thirty. Sheva and Josh had stayed in Africa, where they were meant to be, not without wishing Jill and Chris farewell. Jill had seen abnormal concern towards Chris in Sheva's eyes and once she'd reassured Sheva of her former partner's mind state, the African woman had shook her head and said, "It's not him I'm worried about, Jill." Jill was unable to do nothing, only nod in agreement: Sheva had a point. She also feared for him, also feared for them.

They were back into the facility below ground, in Pennsylvania, where they hadn't found Sherry due to unspecified reasons, so had the researcher in charge said. With Sherry absent, they were at their leisure to use as much as time as they needed to recover from the trip and the tension and clear their minds of unsettling thoughts. As Jill had expected, Chris had been her most unsettling thought: not that his mind had shown itself to get worse, but she couldn't believe how much he had changed in just six days. Normally, out of what she knew, viruses took their time to cause the secondary effects, all in a slow and gradual process (sometimes faster than usual), but in Chris it had been instant. Jill had considered asking Wesker for... assistance, as he would put it, but not yet: she still had to find a way to solve the problem herself.

"How long have you been there?" Chris asked to no-one in particular, seemingly acknowledging her presence. Jill shifted in the armchair into a more comfortable position before his eyes met hers.

"Long enough to see you start tossing and turning," she replied, somehow uneasy. Chris gave a sad smirk.

"Taking care of me now?" he scoffed, humourless. Jill frowned at his apathy, stood up and approached him, going to leave a hand on his shoulder. Before she could do so, Chris gripped her wrist and kept her hand away, not breaking eye contact. "Not now," he said. "I don't want to do anything stupid."

"I'm not going to coax you into doing that," Jill insisted out of instinct. Chris' gaze turned hard and she understood: it was time she left him alone. It would break her heart though, knowing she could be there with him when there was still time. "Tell me something, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Chris let go of her wrist and heaved a sigh. "Can I really tell you?"

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Jill asked back, hesitant. A smile tugged at Chris' lips, and a bolt of trepidation struck her.

"Well then, I'll tell you: you tell me if you consider it bad or not," Chris said, shifting and sitting so that he faced her. Jill saw in him a somehow challenging air of smugness, one that she didn't know how to interpret. "To be blunt, I'm spinning out of control; I don't know if I can keep up with this any longer. I'm not who I used to be anymore, and you know it. I even-"

Jill gasped as he choked back his words. Without anything else to say, Chris stood up and backed away from her, paling as if he'd just seen a ghost. She had never seen him like this, and she was sure that it wouldn't be the last time.

"Chris, what's-?" she went to ask, but Chris interrupted her with a blunt gesture of his hands.

"Get away from me!" he exclaimed, shaking his head as she stepped closer. "I told you to stay away, Jill!"

What's gotten into him?

"Listen to me, please, be reasonable! Why do you want me to get away?" Jill asked, keeping a cool head and a calm voice. In the end, he touched against the wall and stayed there, looking for a way to escape like a mouse facing a viper. "Chris, answer me!"

"Jill, don't make me do this!" he shot back, and suddenly his breathing escalated, panting like an athlete after a marathon but with an undertone of grief and anguish. Jill stopped on her tracks, watching him as he watched her. Chris took both hands to his head and released a short yet powerful cry of pain as he collapsed against the wall and slid down the wall into a sitting position. Jill felt her heart sink when she heard him break into barely audible sobs: it even hurt her more than she would've imagined. Hearing Chris cry had been thought as impossible, as much as time stopping.

Ginger, Jill closed in on him and sat down beside Chris, reaching out to snake an arm around his shoulders and rub his arm kindly.

"Jill, I'm... I'm losing myself, I don't-don't know how to keep up with it!" he explained, his voice cracking here and there. "It's been three times already that I've tried to kill someone -no, let me rephrase that: I wanted to slaughter them. First it was with this-this assassin Marco sent to kill us," Chris made a small pause, shaking his head, "and I pinned her with a chokehold... dammit, it even felt good! I was-I was about to start delighting in it: it was... uncontrollable! The same happened when... with Wesker too; it was all so... so different... Now the last thing I want is to hurt you, because I know I can... I felt tempted to do so once."

"When I confronted you back at Africa, perhaps?" she said as a wild and not so wild guess. Chris nodded.

"I'm even afraid of facing Claire... that is, if I do face her."

Jill felt impotent all of a sudden. It was true that Chris sometimes tended to take things out of scale, but this was different: there was no way he could be exaggerating now. Besides, it all seemed true, she had little pieces of evidence. Those pieces of evidence would be the key to solving the problem, and Jill was willing to do so. As Chris calmed down, she ran a hand through his hair and forced him to look at her. His ginger, uneasy and glassy gaze met hers.

"You're not losing yourself, Chris," she said, trying to calm his nerves. "You're still yourself. I know it's not easy to get used to it, but you can't let those thoughts cross your mind. If you do, you will truly cease to be Chris, the Chris we all know."

"And who is that Chris that you claim to know?"

Silence followed his words, silence during which Chris showed himself to be contemplative as he dried his eyes and clutched his knees against his chest. Jill decided not to say anything and let him think, since she did not know what to say to his question, but she didn't leave his side. She didn't keep track of the time they stayed in silence, but it was clear that it'd have to be for as long as it was necessary for Chris to reach a conclusion.

"One that kept fighting until the end, no matter what; one that did not allow thoughts like those to cross his mind, one that was always with us, be it through sadness or joy. We can't allow you to act like this; besides, you told me the same," she told him later, sitting in front of him.

"If I'm not losing myself," he asked at last, locking gazes with her, "then how can I show it? Look at me, I'm thrashed!"

Jill smiled in spite of his reaction. "Well, I know that; we're not very decent yet," she said, catching sight of his light stubble. "I know what you mean, though, and the best way to show it is to not try and keep a leash on yourself. By doing that, you restrain who you really are. It might not be much, but it's the only thing I can tell you. I did the same and it worked."

Chris nodded, sighing. "I'm still not sure if it'll work with me, but... it won't hurt to try. Why is it that you always know what to say?"

"I've been through situations like those, Chris, and I have the experience," Jill replied. "At first, it's not easy to keep your thoughts in order, but then you learn to live with it, find other ways to beat it." Jill stood up, gazed down at him as she held out a hand for him to take, and he did so, springing to his feet. They remained in silence for a few seconds, and then Jill reached up to touch his face. Shaking his head, Chris took a step back, holding up his hands to stop her.

"Jill, wait. There's no telling what I might do next, and I don't want to-"

"Hey, hey, calm down," she insisted, not willing to stay away. "Why are you making those assumptions? If you do, you might as well just stop fighting and hurt me. That's not something you want, is it?" She placed herself mere inches away from him; she needed to get him used to her presence once again. If not, he was as good as lost. "You won't do that, Chris, you know that. You're strong, remember?"

"But not as much as I would like, and you know that," he replied, shifting nervously.

"Please, Chris, get that out of your damnably stubborn head!" Jill half-teased, half-scolded, this time taking both hands to his face. "My words won't do anything if you don't do something yourself! I can only tell you something that you can do, but it's up to you to carry it out! Don't be so demanding, you've done enough... yes, even though enough is never enough, there's always a limit, and going over it is never good."

Chris remained silent, blinking rapidly, and Jill hoped he was reconsidering. She couldn't see him like this, she just couldn't, not when Chris suffered mainly because of his too high goals. In the end, he said,

"Sheva once told me that there's always so much one can do, even someone like me. Do you think it's time I stopped?"

"It's not about stopping or continuing, it's about being sensible," Jill said in return. "It's true that one's limits can always be stretched further, but only so much. There's always a time when you have to live up to it and not ask more of yourself. Look at me: during my years... in captivity, if I had asked more and more of myself, I would've suffered more than I already did. Of course, strength is always necessary, but if you can't show yourself to be stronger, then it's fine. Everyone has their limits, and they have to find them sooner or later."

"Then I think I've found mine," Chris agreed, all anguish disappearing from his features. "You're right, I'm not thinking. I don't think because I don't know what to think."

"I know why you do it, but knowing your limits is a human thing," Jill said with a mild chuckle, "and before you say anything else, yes, you're still human. For me, you always are. My feelings for you haven't changed, you should know that."

"What's nice to know is that I'm no monster, although that's kind of a strong term," he replied, smiling a bit more. "I guess it'll take some time for me to get used to it, but I promise I will fight; you're not going to lose me. I should've listened before."

"You were already too confused as it was, idiot, and you tend to take things out of scale."

"What was that?" Chris argued, but he could not keep a wider smile from spreading. "Yeah, you're right once more. You never get to know yourself as much as you would want."

Jill, in return, couldn't hold back a smile either; in fact, she wanted to smile, to tell him that she would be with him. She saw resolve in Chris' gaze, hope and strength, all mixed with sorrow and grief. Out of impulse, she said, "You're going to like this, trust me." Before Chris could question her, she laid a hand on his eyes and hid the world from his sight, chuckling as he did.

Jill lowered his face down and laid her lips on his, presenting with a chaste yet emotional kiss. Chris soon responded to the gesture, bringing Jill closer ever so slightly. For a moment, Jill forgot what she was doing, but then came to her sensed and broke away as the same time he did; that way, there would be no way for him to notice her hesitation. Refusing to leave him, Jill wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her face on his chest, relaxing as much as she could in his company. Chris left his arms around her and there they stayed in the middle of the night, waiting for slumber to take them.

This is not right... but I still love him. I can't push him away, I can't choose one over the other; I love them both.

And she wouldn't choose, no matter what.

A/N: So, Jill can't make her mind up yet, huh? Well, don't worry, the drama will start soon. I'm not giving any info about Claire now since everything will be revealed in later chapters, no need to be confused. A few facts: the twins Vithar and Freya are named after the Norse god of vengeance and the goddess of beauty and, among others, death. Both of them have some kind of disorder: for example, Vithar is a boy suffering from severe cataplexy, meaning he has severe muscle weakness that presents itself through many symptoms. As for Freya, she has a bipolar disorder and there's two sides to her personality. This will be explored further along the story and the sequel, mhkay? XD

*Te duci să moară – You're going to die.
*Sunteţi un monstru ca mine – You're a monster like me.
*Nu sunt monstru! – I'm no monster.
*Cine esti tu? - Who are you?
*Nu vă fie teamă. Înţeleg cum te simţi – Don't be afraid. I understand how you feel.
*Să lupta! - Let's fight!
*Monstru! Monstru! Va veti pierde, şi nu va fi nimeni să vă ajutăm! - Monster! Monster! You're going to lose yourself, and there will be no-one to help you!

Reviews are appreciated!^^