The Goliath Protocol:
Chapter Forty-Eight:
Sober
Silver Lake
The sight of her nearly floored Chris. He kept his face impassive as he studied her beyond the glass. She looked worse somehow than when he'd first brought her back. She wasn't angry now. She wasn't fighting. She was done.
She was dead but blinking.
She'd given up.
Gruffly, he spoke, "Get up, Jill."
She did nothing. She stared. He commanded again with a flicker of old pain, "Stop sitting there like a doll and get up. Look at this boy."
Logan shifted, speaking gently, "Maybe not so mean. Ok? Be nice."
Be nice, Chris thought; he wasn't sure he knew how. Even when Claire had lain in bed for days after their parents had died, he'd never used gentle nudging to get her moving. He'd forced her out of that bed and back into the world like a spear.
It was all he knew how to do.
Chris tried again, softer now and more encouraging, "He needs you, Jill. This boy needs you to get up and care for him." I can't, Chris thought desperately; I can't do it, Jill. I need you to do it. I need you to love him.
When she kept staring, Chris stated, "I had to do it."
She said nothing.
He defended, "I had to do it, Jill. You hear me?"
Logan encouraged softly, "Say you're sorry."
Chris jerked as if the boy had hit him. He said again, "Tell her you're sorry, Chris. She's lost. Bring her back."
When Chris looked down at him, the boy smiled softly, "I heard you did once, right? You brought her back. You can do it. Just...do what you did before...find her...and bring her back."
Goddamnit.
His heart jerking, Chris closed his eyes and breathed. He looked back at the glass and said, "Jill...Jill Valentine."
She twitched. He laid his palm on the glass and urged, "Listen to me, Jill. Listen to my voice. I know you can. Fight. Because..."His voice broke, startling him, and the boy gripped his free hand and squeezed, supporting him. "Because you're still you. You're still in there. And you can, Jill. You can do this."
Her eyes teared up. She didn't blink. She didn't shift. But she heard him.
Chris added softly, "...I let you go once. I did that. I didn't let go this time. You're still you. But I can't, Jill. I can't stop it. You can."
Her eyes flicked at him and away again. Still there, he thought, still there. "I won't let go again. You hear me? So you have to do this. Do it. Get up."
A tear slid down her cheek. It nearly broke his fucking heart to see it. If she was Claire, this was when he'd grip her and hold her and wait for her. But she wasn't Claire.
And she wasn't his.
And hadn't ever been.
He wasn't what she needed. Voice cracking, he told her, "I failed you."
Surprised at the confession, he froze. The boy squeezed and looked pleased. Good thing one of them was, Chris thought with a flicker of terror, because he was more afraid than he'd been ass deep in monsters.
He cleared his throat and tried again, "I failed you. I let you fall. I didn't find you."
Her eyes closed, and he added, "...I let you die."
Her head shook just a little, and he finished, "Yeah, I did. I did that. I let you die. But you're not dead."
Jill's eyes squeezed. She shivered on the bed. And he demanded, "You're not dead. So, get up. Jill...get up."
She didn't. But she didn't open her eyes. She sat on that bed and cried so softly.
Logan whispered, "That's good, Chris. That's good."
Chris returned hoarsely, "Yeah? I...I made her cry."
"Yeah..." Logan smiled up at him, "You did real good. Sometimes...you gotta cry to fix it, ya know?"
God. Soothed by a baby.
Chris hesitated and laid his palm on the boy's hair. He rubbed like he'd done to Claire all those years ago, and the boy nodded. A pretty smile. A soft smile. Somehow, someway - Claire's smile.
And his.
He'd forgotten how to smile.
The boy told him, "You gotta keep comin back, ok? Come back. And stay. And keep talking. She likes that. When you talk. She likes when Leon talks."
Of course, she did, Chris thought with a flicker of respect; of course, she did. Leon Kennedy knew how to talk you down. He knew how to call you back. Chris? He just punched you in the face until you listened.
Leon held his look at the top of the stairs until Chris told him, "I'm staying."
Logan nodded happily. Leon looked like he'd rather toss Chris out on his ass with his boot up it. But the boy encouraged, "It's good, Leon. He made her cry."
Surprised, Leon tilted his head. Logan nodded happily, "Yep. She cried. She heard him. She wants to come back. We just have to keep talking."
The two legends of bioterror glared at each other until Leon snapped, "... it's tacos for dinner."
He spun away. Logan smiled and remarked, "You like tacos?"
Chris felt like someone had shoved him from his world of bullets and blood into a surreal universe where he was forced to have tacos with Leon Kennedy and his son while they worked together to save Jill Valentine.
Lord.
He looked around desperately for Claire, found her watching him in the living room, and drew strength from her presence as he grumbled, "...if you don't like tacos, you should probably get the hell out of America."
Grinning, Logan returned, "Exactly." He patted Chris' big arm and added, "Rebecca makes pico-de-gallo."
Rebecca gave Chris a soft look as she stated, "...welcome to the party, Chris. I'm glad you're here."
At least someone was.
The next day, people traded out time in the basement across from the glass, just talking. Claire. Rebecca. Logan. Chris. Leon.
They sat, talked, and let Logan put together a little band where Leon played guitar, Claire was forced to use a kazoo, Rebecca drummed on her thighs, and Chris stood to the side looking bemused. Logan sang any song he could think of - but liked the song from Trolls about getting knocked over and getting back up again. He sang. He danced. He tried like hell to impress.
On the bed, in her isolation, she refused to leave, still cuffed and filthy; Jill sat on the bed and listened. Occasionally, her eyes flicked toward them. She heard. She watched. She waited.
While they tried, Chris tried too. He did.
He took walks with the boy. He listened. He learned. When Logan blathered on and on about Leon, Chris gritted his teeth. In some facet of his existence, he'd spent a lifetime in Leon Kennedy's shadow.
Kennedy - the hero Kennedy - the selfless warrior. Kennedy - the man. For all his faults, Leon seemed to always be one step ahead of the rest on the scale of self-sacrifice and chivalry.
"When he was eleven, his dog got trapped in a cave. Leon used his bedsheets, made a rope, and went into the hole to get the dog! Can you believe that!?"
Chris grunted, "What a hero."
"I know! He's so smart."
Chris paused in the wildflowers and queried, "Logan?"
The boy stopped and grinned, looking tiny in that oversized leather jacket. "Chris?"
Chris. That was his name, it was. He wasn't Dad. He hadn't ever been. He wasn't cut out to be. Right?
Right!?
Channeling something like patience, Chris demanded, "What do you want, Logan?"
When the boy looked confused, he clarified, "You want Kennedy to be your Dad?"
Logan shifted on his feet. He toed the soft flowers with his boot. He murmured, "...sometimes."
Chris nodded, absorbing that. He crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat. "I'm not a good man."
Surprised, Logan looked up at his face. Chris nodded a little, "I'm not. I'm selfish. I'm inherently rude. I'm pretty much a punch in the face when you need a hug. I'm not easy."
Logan twisted his lips, "...why?"
A good question. Not the easiest of answers. Chris lit a cigarette as he considered it before answering, "I saw a lot of people die when I was young. I was a man, not a boy, but it stuck with me."
Logan nodded, looking enraptured, "And you became a warrior?"
Chris gruffed out a laugh, "Sure. Kinda. I made a vow to save everybody I could before I died."
Logan tilted his head, "But you still took care of Claire."
He had him there. Chris nodded, "I did. The best I could. But ask her - she'll tell you- I wasn't soft. I taught her to be strong. I taught her to fight. I can teach you that too...but I can't teach you what Leon can."
Logan narrowed his eyes, "...teach me what?"
He sounded so confused. Chris, uncomfortable, still gave it his best shot. "Teach you how to love, Logan. I don't-I'm not...I don't think I remember how. Not the way you need. Not the way a kid needs."
Logan smiled a little, "Claire said you do ok. She said it mostly rubs your butt raw like wool underwears...but you try."
Chris laughed a little, and it wasn't gruff; it was as gentle as it ever was when it came to Claire. "She'd know. My Dad...he wasn't a soft guy either. He was hard. He was a survivalist. He taught us from a young age to prepare for the worst, ya know?"
"...like my Mama did."
Chris held his eyes, "Did she?"
"...when...when she wasn't really her? She'd teach me about surviving...the guy in the sunglasses...he would stand around and watch us."
Wesker.
Chris felt his jaw flex. "What was your Mama like in the times when he was around?"
"...cold." Logan studied Chris' face. "She was cold. Like a robot."
Chris nodded, "Like me."
Confused, Logan shook his head, "No. You're not cold. And you're not mean. You're just...sad."
Chris blew out smoke as he responded, "Sad?"
"Sure. Like Leon. Sad. Because you're lonely, I think. But you're afraid. If you love someone...it hurts when they're gone. So...maybe you just don't love them...or maybe you just don't let them know you do."
Fuck.
Chris looked at the kid like he had a second head made of Claire. The boy gave him the same look in return until Chris just...laughed. And it wasn't gruff. It wasn't pained. It wasn't panicked or lost or deflective. It was just good.
"You sure you're not Kennedy's kid? You talk like him."
Logan chortled, "He says smart stuff."
"He does. He's a smart guy." Chris studied him and added, "He's a good guy, Logan. He's not as hard as me. He's got something inside of him that's just...kind. He fought me to protect your Mama."
Surprised, Logan looked at him, "You wanted to hurt her?"
Chris shook his head, "No. Never. But he didn't know that. He thought I did. He tried to stop me. And he..." Chris trailed off and tried to find the right thing to say. Jesus, he wasn't a man who just talked. This was so hard. He'd rather punch boulders than speak to kids. "He will do whatever it takes to protect her...and you."
Logan simply replied, "So will you."
Chris held his gaze. "...I'm gonna try."
"You don't like kids?"
With a laugh, Chris returned, "I don't dislike kids. I just..."
"You don't get it?"
Chris blew out a curl of smoke. "I don't get it."
"So...maybe you learn."
"...you think an old dog can learn new tricks?"
Logan replied, "I think Leon did."
Damn.
He couldn't lose to Leon Kennedy again. So, he had to give this his best shot. "Ok. So...what's first, Mr. Miyagi?"
Logan chuckled a little, "Maybe you stop being so mad."
"Maybe?"
"Yeah...just...maybe you laugh more and scowl less."
Chris felt his mouth twitch. "Maybe I could try that."
"...cool." Logan considered and added, "Leon makes jokes."
"...let's not get ahead of ourselves."
Logan chuckled. Chris smoothed his hair. It wasn't a leap into paternity...but it was a step.
A week after Jill's return, Leon was still attempting to track Ada.
Rebecca joined him at his Bruce Wayne-sized computer system. She glanced at it and mused, "You have a Bat Cave in your house."
He shrugged a shoulder, "What can I say? I like dark and broody."
Rebecca nodded sagely and returned, "The blocker is proving highly effective. I think it's safe to remove the cuffs."
He nodded and rolled his chair around to face her. "Good. Take them off."
"...she won't let me."
Leon held her look until the girl scientist flushed a little. "I tried. She won't budge on it. She'll let me run tests on her. But she won't let anyone touch her beyond that, Leon. She panics when they do. She scrambles away. She recoils. I-I don't know what to do."
She gave him scared eyes. "I think-is she gone? Is she too far gone?"
And he simply said, "No."
That one word. It was all they needed sometimes.
Leon rose and left the room. She scurried after him until he found Jill lying on her side on the cot in the basement. She was filthy. She was still in her gear. It had been a week. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't do anything but sit like a lifeless droid. When they came and played or talked to her or stood looking at her, sometimes she moved or looked back for a moment or cried.
But she never spoke.
Leon crossed toward her in the safe room they'd set up. He crouched and remarked, "You stink. How about a shower?"
Jill gave him nothing. She stared at the wall an inch to his right.
After a moment, he rose and shrugged, "Alright. The hard way then." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She dangled like a dead body as he walked.
But she didn't fight him. There was still hope, Rebecca thought desperately, because Leon? She didn't fight.
Rebecca wrang her hands nervously, and he assured her, "I got this. Get something to eat. Take in a little boob tube. Give us a minute."
He took Jill up the stairs and plopped her on the toilet in the master bath. She leaned and stared emptily at the wall. PTSD? Self-induced catatonia? What?
He fired on the shower and shed his shoes and shirt. In his jeans, he crouched and told her, "Give me your hands."
She blinked, but she didn't respond.
He reached for the little key in his pocket and aimed it at the cuffs. She came alive, recoiling, slapping at his hands. "No! NO! I'll hurt you! Leave them!"
He caught her flailing arms and held them to her lap. His gaze was firm but clear, "Good to know you're still alive in there. I was starting to think you'd turned into a doll. I'm not much on sex dolls, but you'd make a good one."
Her eyes flickered. She whimpered softly. "...leave me...please? Just...I can't. I can't."
Softening, he queried, "Can't what?"
Her mouth trembled as she whispered, "I can't hurt you. I won't. Please. You should've let me die. What does it matter? This is it for me, Leon. This is who I am. A prisoner. A murderer. A monster. Chris was right. He was right all along. Give me back to him. He'll put me where I belong."
Leon's jaw hardened as he returned, "Where is that?"
"...in a hole so deep and dark I can't hurt anyone ever again. I'm nothing. I'm a weapon. Stop me." She implored desperately, "Stop me."
Kill me.
The unspoken plea was all over her.
Jill shook her head, eyes fierce and wet. "You should never have stood up for me. I should have left you alone. I let it get here. I did that. You were right. I should have never touched you."
A muscle flexed his jaw as she whispered, "You should've let Ada have me."
He reached for the latches on her vest. He jerked at them, and the rip of velcro was loud. He wasn't gentle. He was swift and efficient. She let him, body jerking with the motions as he answered, "I think I knew...even then, I knew."
Jill looked at him sadly as he tossed the vest to the floor and took her boots. "...knew what?"
"You weren't Chris'. You weren't Wesker's." She just blinked until he added, "Even then...you were mine. Mine. And I protect what's mine, Jill."
Her face softened. She gave him a look of total loss as she responded, "...I'm not worth protecting, Leon. I'm a lost cause. I know you don't give up. I know that. But look at me...it's too late. I was never free of him. It was stupid to think I could be. He'll never let me go."
Without missing a beat, Leon told her, "What a coincidence. Neither do I. When it matters? I never let go."
He held out his hand. "Give me your wrists."
She lifted them to him, and he put the key in. They snapped off with a clang of metal and tumbled to the floor. He took those wrists and flattened her hands to his chest. She shook her head, denying it, and he commanded, "You asked me to trust you once. Trust you to pull me clear. I'm not asking you now. I'm telling you. Trust me. I will pull you clear, Jill. But you have to believe in me."
Her eyes filled with tears, "...I believe in you. I just don't believe in me."
"...I do." He vowed gruffly, "I believe in you. That's what it means when you care."
Her eyes flickered, and she gasped slightly as he nodded and added gruffly, "Yeah, I care. So, hold on. Fight. You had nothing to fight for before. Nothing waiting. No one to defend. No one who would miss you. Neither did I. Now I do. I will fight for you. I will never stop. I will go out a window for you, Jill. But I can't do it alone. Jump with me."
Her face collapsed with emotion. She shook her head. "...you deserve better."
"Maybe," And now he laughed a little roughly, "But it's done. Fight for me, Jill. I need you to fight. Show up for me."
Her laugh was wet and painful. "Oh...you're clever. Genius IQ, right?"
"So they tell me." He gave her a flash of teeth in a smile. "But I'm here. If you want...to be my Valentine."
She blinked. Her tears turned to a soft sound of amusement. "...you're an idiot."
"Maybe, but I'm not going anywhere. Do what you want with it."
He rose. He helped her disrobe and got into the shower with her. He washed her hair and talked. She let the hot water cleanse away some of the horrors. Her fingers hovered over her chest and the device there. When they jerked away, Leon caught her hand.
He laid his palm over the device and promised, "Temporary. Just temporary."
She gave him a sad look. "It's never temporary. It's forever. Even when it's gone, it's forever."
He gave her a stern look and responded, "Some things are forever. Taxes. Death. Scars. But this isn't you. This is Wesker. He's still on you; he's still in you - I will get him out of you."
Jill gave him such a sad look that he invited, "What? What is it?"
Her eyes lifted to scan his face, and she confessed, "...you didn't know him. You didn't...how can you promise something you can't understand?"
His mouth lifted in a little bit of a half-smile. "I don't have to have met him. It's irrelevant. I don't give a shit if he was a psycho or a killer clown from outer space or a god. It doesn't matter. When you threaten what matters, I destroy you. I'm the Executioner, Jill. It's what I do."
After a handful of moments in that steamy heat, she whispered, "...you know I could have broken those cuffs, right? At any time, I could have just ripped them apart like paper."
He nodded. His eyes held hers, and he returned, "I knew you wouldn't."
Floored by that, she breathed, "...how?!"
And he simply answered, "Because you were still in there. Just like with the plagas in me, I was still me. I could still feel it and fight it and win. You...just needed to find your fight. All I had to do was protect you until you could."
"...I could have killed you, you stupid man. I could have killed you for it."
"You didn't hurt anyone. You kept them off you. You tossed them around, but you didn't kill anyone. I knew...I knew...I could bring you back. Like on that roof with H.U.N.K...I just needed to give you the time to fight back."
She held his look and whispered, "You...did it on purpose."
His answering gaze was stern, "I knew if I offered myself, you'd find your way back."
She didn't understand that. Her face was so lost. Her eyes were so desperate. "How?"
"Because you go out windows. You die to protect the people who fight with you. You just needed to remember that."
"...what if I'd killed you?"
He smiled sadly now. "Who would miss me? We all gotta go sometime. If you'd shot me on that mountain top, you'd have followed me down the side of it. We both know that. It didn't matter to me one way or the other."
The power of that echoed in her bones.
Jill didn't touch him. But her eyes burned a hole into his chest to find his heart beneath the skin and bone. He was, she thought wildly; he was a stupid, stupid man.
He was putting faith in her ability to resist. He was putting faith in her. And she didn't deserve it.
He was a man who just...believed.
And she was desperately afraid she'd be the reason he died, the reason he lost, the reason the world didn't have a man to fight for it anymore who never, ever gave up.
She didn't touch him. She wasn't ready to risk him. But she stood in that shower and just held on to the promise of him.
Until she found the strength to get up.