Chap. Two - Familiar Resurrections

"Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent." - Psalms 71:9

August 9, 1999

It feels so surreal to be flying out to Belize of all places to regroup with Chris & Jill. It seems rather too uncanny a place if you ask me. Of course, we three (plus Barry, too, soon enough) are hardly there for tea. The only reason our meeting place is Belize is because it's the sight of a new top-secret, all-too-crucial Umbrella base. Even so, the sequence of every little thing going on still baffles my mind witless almost! How could all of it – the conspiracy, the malice, the ill intent, the inhumanity of it all - be at the tip of our fingers all over again?! What happened in Raccoon just wasn't abominable enough for Umbrella, was it?! Nope, a tragedy that MURDERS only, you know, 100,000 innocent people is simply not suffice to satisfy Umbrella's hunger to create monsters; their malignancy will prevail at any cost, I guess...

Nevertheless, believe it or not here I really am, sitting in my seat at the Orlando International Airport, bracing to wait another 30 minutes before I can at last board my flight to Belmopan, Belize. I'm seriously going out of my way to walk right into yet another inevitably all-too-deadly collusion of Umbrella's, and even yet, somehow I haven't the slightest doubt that I'm doing the right thing. If there's one thing I've learned since this whole fiasco first began, it's that life can't be just for oneself if you intend to make a difference. So since there's nothing more I want than to take down Umbrella for good — publicly exposing each and every one of the wretched corporation's unconscionable acts of treachery and evil too, while at it — taking a huge risk is a sacrifice I must be willing to make right now...

As soon as her plane was safely cruising the clouds, immediately Rebecca Chambers took out her laptop to occupy herself with. Stupid as it was, she hadn't quite conquered her overbearing fear of flying and needed a distraction ASAP. She decided to again review the intentionally vague, confidential memo that Chris had risked sending her a few days prior. Although the email perhaps contained less than a speck of useful information regarding the mission in Belize (at least in Rebecca's mind), it was the most Chris would acquiesce to sending her, and even that was only after much unrelenting INSISTENCE on her part to know what the hell was happening. Indeed, it wasn't as if Chris had had the decency to let her in on anything out of his own accord ('Imagine that!' thought a bitter Rebecca to herself) — not a chance. Nonetheless, retrieving Chris' saved email from its password-secured folder, Rebecca re-read the document yet again, incessant in her search for any previously unnoticed clues:

Hey Rebecca,

Hope you're doing well and that everything is still going fine. Me and Jill can't wait to see you in a few days. I know you want to know all the details about the investigation over here and all, but I have to be extra careful about what I put in writing. What I CAN tell you though, is that we've been hanging in this hotel together, me and Jill, for two weeks now uninjured, and for me altogether, it's been over a month. Can you believe that?! Anyway, our luck hasn't even ended there, either: About ten days before Jill got here, I dared to make a very, VERY risky move that shockingly proved to be most ingenious: I broke into the home of someone central to our investigation (can't say who for now), and as I'd suspected, the residence actually doubled as a secret laboratory! But most amazing of all was the jackpot I so luckily received for my trouble: I unbelievably managed to get my hands on a diary FILLED with invaluable information pertained to Umbrella's latest doings! I can't get any more specific than that, sorry, but it'll have been worth the wait when your eyes behold the gloried diary and its promising set of clues. Seriously, I swear to God, Rebecca, don't worry — when you get here you will totally forgive this current trend of uninformative communication!

Take care & see you soon,

Chris, your loyal comrade

The friendly, albeit rather brief, message ended right there. It came across as rather unfinished, unfairly concealing. Rebecca sort of thought Chris was being a little too paranoid, as she could've simply saved then immediately deleted the message without a trace from her inbox no harm done. In all truthfulness, in fact, Rebecca felt pretty disappointed in Chris and Jill for their lack of effective communication, and even thought they should consider themselves damn lucky that she was even coming in spite of them leaving her totally in the dark about the situation. In the overall scheme of things though, Rebecca, so very jarred by it all, constantly had to remind herself that this severe disconnect between herself and her fellow S.T.A.R.S. comrades would ultimately be very short-lived. '...Over in mere HOURS at this point, matter of fact', Rebecca thought to herself encouragingly. Resigning to close her laptop, she lied back in her seat, trying to relax, and eventually rested her eyes shut peacefully. It would be a couple hours before they were anywhere near Belize after all, so catching up on some much-needed sleep wasn't a half-bad idea...

A short two-and-a-half hours of half-restful napping later, the loud echoing voice of the pilot on the intercom, alerting them that they were finally beginning to land, woke Rebecca up with a startle. She immediately felt as though she'd only just lied back and closed her eyes a moment ago, surmounted still by an undying exhaustion despite napping. Irritably listening to the announcement, the first things that alarmed her senses were her rapidly accelerated heartbeat, her awkwardly subdued, anxious breathing, and a nasty apprehension which seemed to sizzle back and forth up her spine. The forthcoming moment of culmination was at last soon to dawn, and with it came a bemusing diffidence in herself that seemed to leave her all the more gun shy.

'...Only time will tell, I guess,' supposed an irresolute Rebecca to herself. She couldn't help being this apprehensive about the impending future, as it undoubtedly would be filled with events that could possibly make her look a lot less like a hero and much more like a fool with a flamboyant death wish.

Barry Burton tried surreptitiously looking away from his furious wife despite their face-to-face proximity. They stood each frigid with tenseness in the middle of the normally cozy family room of their new middle-class home in the quiet suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia. Where Amy Burton, his wife of fifteen mostly peaceful years, held one terse fist against her hip as she stood her very confrontational ground, Barry leaned one of his boots on top the other with his arms folded at his chest uncomfortably. It was late, the kids had been in bed for almost an hour now, but Barry and Amy were engaged in a very serious quarrel.

"Barry...Barry, you look at me right this instant and listen closely!" his very cross wife commanded.

Reluctantly, Barry turned his weary brown eyes back to his wife, dumbfounded for the right words. "Amy, honey, try to be reasonable—" he started to plead in a progressively weakened tone of voice.

But his scorned wife cut him off scathingly. "Be reasonable? Be reasonable?! You've got balls to say that, Burton."

Barry shook his head vehemently, fed up, and threw his hands up in the air out of frustration. "AMY! Come off it, would ya? Don't act like I'm enjoying being forced to choose either you and the kids or—"

But again he was cut off. "...A death wish?" she snapped sarcastically. Her tone was toxic.

Barry grunted effortlessly, wanting to throw back equally combative words but nonetheless falling timid upon the bedeviling eyes of his wife. Beautifully, they shined an extraordinary bright-blue as her eagle-eying gaze watched his every slightest movement. Taking good note of her ever-defensive disposition, Barry tiredly conceded to just sigh and say, "Well, I don't know, Honeybee. Maybe. I don't know...But my heart tells me it's the right thing to do. I got unfinished business with S.T.A.R.S., babe, it's as simple as that." Speaking with actual confidence as he finished his final words (to nothing short of his total surprise, notably), Barry Burton — perhaps audaciously, perhaps not audaciously — gave his beloved wife his classic million-dollar grin.

Somehow the forty-something S.T.A.R.S. veteran and (simultaneous) family man felt certain that he was pursuing the choice that was truest to his heart, and in doing that alone he now rested the most assured about the intimidating, all-too-imminent future.

Taking in an extended deep breath, Rebecca Chambers, feeling her heart race and trembling, knocked on the daunting door to Room "272" once and for all, in end a bit harder than she'd actually intended to. Once silence resumed, she found herself holding her breath in the few tentative moments that she awaited an answer. It was very quick, though, that Rebecca heard forthcoming footsteps on the other side of the door...

Without any hesitancy the door flew open and there in front of her — she couldn't believe her own eyes — were Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine, standing side-by-side with huge, all-welcoming smiles written across their faces. Chris was first to act, suffocating her into a rather comforting, very much brotherly embrace before she could react or say anything. Instantly Rebecca was feeling showered with very-much-needed relief, as well as a quickly increasing sense of elation. All in all she was left perfectly unable to stop herself from letting out a carefree burst of laughter when Chris amicably yelled out, "BECKY! Nice of you to finally show up, eh, Gal?" He of course only teased her, right away giving her a dose of that infamous dry humor of his that always without fail had rattled her to an innermost chuckle, and which now, too, was working its magic even in a sensitive introductory moment like this; nonetheless taken aback by her own shocking lapse to elation, thoroughly uninjured Rebecca just supposed this was Chris acting fast to make up for lost time probably, no harm at all to be found in his intention.

Contributing to the relieving, surprisingly joyous new atmosphere, Jill wholeheartedly laughed along in the background, and when Chris finally let go of Rebecca the two unusually jovial women jumped into their own enormous hug, like close sisters reunited after a horribly long separation. Practically breathless, with a wink Jill exclaimed, "Rebecca, I can't believe it's really you! I'm so glad you made it, and in one piece too!" And at that they all burst into immediate energetic laughter as Rebecca entered and Chris shut the door behind them.

However, the first symbol of an instantaneously resounding "reality check" (so to speak) bolted right into Rebecca unsuspectingly once Chris had shut and re-locked the door behind them. He was definitely extra-furtive about their security, it did seem, given he bolted both locks on the door immediately. Yet indeed more unsettling was how even "tough-as-nails" Redfield actually looked unnerved, truly afraid, for a pronounced second. It served to remind her of the emergent atmosphere which, potentially deadly at all times, would be a perpetual, overbearing norm that she'd inevitably have to get used to here. "So this is the famous Room '272'?" posed Rebecca jokingly. But then, suddenly she couldn't help but feel an abrasive edge toward them now that they were right there in front of her. They'd treated her like a petulant child every time she'd begged them for information, returning her frustrated pleas with patronizing words. Somehow the lighthearted atmosphere in the room felt instantaneously dissipated; now, actually being in their presences, however, Rebecca indeed felt a very discomforting tension present itself all the sudden. She had certainly NOT appreciated being totally left in dark all this time thanks to the two of them. Feeling herself abash a mortifying shade of scarlet at these jarring thoughts, Rebecca awkwardly attempted to tilt her head subtly off from their direct view. She just could not muster the will to look either of her friends in the eye, even after so long apart, because stupid or not her apprehensive inhibitions from recent days were leaking over.

When Chris alas broke the silence it was thus utmost startling for Rebecca. He spoke confidently, saying in an assured tone of voice, "We're so glad to have you here with us, Becky. You're the best — seriously." And yet with these uncharacteristically sentimental, honest, courageous words, all the discontentment dissonant in Rebecca seemed to instantly fade away.

She laughed out in warm appreciation, beyond touched and flattered as she eyed Jill's adamant nodding and beaming smile. "Thank you, Chris! You have no idea how much it means to me that you guys even want me out here with you — I'm honored!" she managed to say breathlessly, soaking up in the oh-so-familiar comfort of the moment.

Jill laughed, lightheartedly answering, "Want you?! We need your medical expertise if we're going to survive much longer out here in the middle of nowhere!" Her words exclaimed with full sincerity, and they all laughed together.

Rebecca blushed, flattered as can be, and somewhat bashfully replied, "Thanks, guys. That means a lot." But not getting too caught up in the mushiness of the refreshing moment, Rebecca instead turned spontaneously eager to live up to their belief in her, and instead made a swift change of topics. Uncontrollably allowing her voice to fall to a hollower, more vulnerable inflection, she nervously inquired, "So then, Chris, Jill...Tell me everything that you've been tortuously withholding from me all this time."

Author's Afterword: Sorry for the egregiously long wait. On the bright side, now I'm stately focused on this fic, and can absolutely PROMISE Chap. Three will be posted much faster than 'Two' was :D.