XXI. Merry Christmas
"When ill luck begins, it does not come in sprinkles, but in showers." — Mark Twain, 'Pudd'nhead Wilson'
Doing her best to go slow, Claire slowly drank her wine. She'd touch the rim of her glass to her lips and peer over the goblet to look at two people in particular. It was Christmas and so far the holiday seemed to be a success. Gifts were given, they were half way through dinner, and everyone seemed to be happy. And the two people Claire was spying on, Chris and Sheva, seemed to be getting along grandly. That was great and all, but Claire wanted to bang her head against the table when she saw how they acted around one another. There was a friendship budding between the two and it couldn't aggravate Claire more. What was she doing wrong? She was pushing them to spend time together and she thought she was doing a good job.
It wasn't just her own matchmaking skills she was questioning, but a certain someone who was always competing with her. Rebecca. Something or someone was distracting Sheva in the past month and Claire had an idea that it was guy. Most likely at work. Where Rebecca was with Sheva and this mystery man.
"Claire, you're giving the stink eye to Rebecca," Leon, who sat next to her at the dining table, told her.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's intentional."
As if feeling her gaze, Becca looked to the redhead, silently gasping at the nasty look she was receiving. Claire's eyes were narrowed and her lips turned into a tight frown. Knowing that this had something to do with competition, Becca scrunched her nose at Claire.
What are you doing? Claire mouthed to the pixyish woman. Becca just mouthed the same thing back with more attitude. Feeling her temper rising, Claire gave her the nastiest look she could, to which Becca did the same. A facial expression war broke out over the dining table, making everyone look at the two grown women making funny faces.
"You two are going to hurt yourselves if you keep going on like that," Billy said, eyeing both women with a raised brow.
When they both realized everyone was looking, blush rose to their cheeks as they looked away from each other in embarrassment. It was quiet for a moment when a snicker came from the other end of the table. Sheva couldn't hold back the laugh and let it out, seemingly amused by the faces Claire and Becca were making. She brought her hands to her face and laughed in her hands, hiding the redness rising to her face.
One second everyone's attention was on the two women having a silent argument with their faces and now the attention was on the woman laughing in her hands, trying to hide behind her fingers. When she calmed down a little, it was Chris that explained with a hand motion that she had drunken a little too much wine. Everyone resounded an 'ah' and nodded, going back to their own conversations and meals.
A few laughs escaped Sheva as she grabbed for her wine glass, frowning when she noticed it was empty. "Oh my, gosh. It's all gone," she mumbled, setting the glass back down.
"That's what happens when you drink it all," Chris stated, fighting his own smile at her growing frown.
They had sat next to each other the entire dinner, just talking without a care. Maybe it was the alcohol, but everything seemed so easy right now. Everyone was doing their own thing; talking to everyone, laughing easily and enjoying themselves. Even Jill was opening up slightly. She was still quiet for the most part, but she actually carried a conversation with Rebecca and her kids. It was a good day so far.
Sheva had no idea how she drank that much, but the sweet liquid was slowly taking affect, making her giggly and bubbly. After finishing her second glass, she decided to stick with water. If Piers was going to come by later, she wanted to be as cognizant as possible. Even if Piers didn't make it, she still wanted to keep up with everyone and what was going on. Taking a small sip of water, she looked to Chris beside her and continued on with their chat.
"Do you know how bad the outbreak is?" she questioned, referring to the small outbreak that had broken out on the border of Canada and America only this afternoon.
"The mission update said it was small, but they can't be too sure right now," Chris informed her.
"What time is your team going tomorrow?"
He let out a heavy sigh, thinking of his next mission facing the infected and crazies. "Some time in the morning."
"At least they let you have Christmas off, right?" She studied his profile, watching as his brows lifted slightly and fell back to their usual angle. She had to admit that he looked nice today. Well, he always looked nice, but more so today. He actually bothered and wore a button up shirt, rather than his usual t-shirt or workout gear. He was clean shaven, showing off his bone structure more. His eyes still looked tired and weary, but Sheva learned that this was just part of Chris Redfield now. As she watched his lips move, she noticed how much he had changed. The interior was just a small reveal of transformation, but it was just something about him that had changed and it only occurred to her now, making her sad and ache for him.
Moving her gaze from Chris to the rest of her dinner guests, Sheva wondered if this was what it was like to have a family; conversations filling the air and appreciation settling into her bones. All that was left was Josh and his pregnant wife Katie, and then it would be perfect. She blamed the wine when she felt herself get a little stuffy, her eyes a touch moist. Not wanting to make a scene, she stood and collected the dirty plates around the table, stacking them in her hands. As she weaved around the table, Chris got up to help her and offered her a helping hand, following her out of the chatty dining room and into the kitchen.
Never actually taking up the habit, Piers wished he could have a smoke to calm his jittery nerves as he walked into the familiar home. He counted his habitual 27 steps until he was in the activity room of the nursing home, looking around for the usual caretaker, Viola, as he stuck his hands in his pockets. As he looked around the room that gave off the usual smell of cleaning products and death, his searching eyes stopped on a familiar face that did not return the stare.
"Piers," Viola called to him, walking away from an elderly man that was engrossed with a puzzle of some old advertisement of Coca-Cola. "I'm so glad you could make it."
He nodded, not even trying to force words out of his dry throat. Viola was a woman in her mid-40's with dark brown hair and matching eyes, wearing a pale pink top to accentuate her yellow skin tone. She stopped a few feet in front of him with a kind smile.
"Merry Christmas," she greeted. He forced out the returned greeting as she searched around the large room, looking for the woman he was here to see. "She's been quiet today, but she seems in a good mood."
He once again nodded and followed slowly as Viola led him to the woman that was staring at a book laying on the table before her, her expression one of confusion. As he got closer, Viola patted him on the back and pointed for him to sit down. He did so, keeping his eyes on the woman he had learned to be cautious of. He wanted to scoff at the idea of being cautious of her.
Cautious of your own mother, he thought to himself. Pathetic.
"Mrs. Nivans," Viola called her softly. "You have a visitor today. This is Piers. Why don't you say hello."
The woman he knew as 'mom' looked up, her eyes glassy. She examined his face, looking for something familiar or an answer to anything, but as her eyes roamed more over his features, he knew that this was another day she wouldn't remember him.
"Hello," she whispered weakly and held her tiny hand out over the table. "My name is Janet."
"Piers," he told her softly, gently grasping her hand and giving it a tiny shake. She pulled her hand away, looking back at the book in front of her. He had seen her many times before like this; distant, out of the loop. But it never failed to send a shock of sadness through his body to see his mother go through Alzheimer's. To see her suffer with memory loss and paranoia ate at him with a hunger. His own mother couldn't remember him because of this debilitating disease.
Viola had gone off to tend to the other residents in the home and left Piers and Janet alone. He had no idea what to say, per the norm, and just settled with gazing at her small figure. She was always small. Compared to his late father, she was half his size it seemed at times. She was always active, choosing healthy foods over the junk goodies, keeping up a good social life. But none of it mattered any longer now that she forgot what her exercise routine was, what foods she usually ate, or who her friends were. Or who her son was.
"This book," she mumbled, tapping her index finger on the hardback novella in front of her. "I remember reading this every year during Christmas."
Leaning over a bit, Piers read the title of the published literature. A Christmas Carol. She said she remembered reading it every year because she did. She used to read Dickens' parable to him every Christmas, making it a tradition after the second year. They started this when he was the young age of 4 when she'd call for him to sit down and listen. He was never good at staying still, but whenever his mother read to him, he managed to calm the excited nerves and listen as she read the tale. It was a memory that he cherished and a memory she had forgotten.
"Do you remember reading it to someone?" he asked, cringing at the scratchiness in his throat after forcing words out.
She gave him a strange look, baffled for a moment. "That's an odd question. No, I don't remember that."
He leaned back, giving her space before she broke out in fear of random memories hitting her, causing her to panic and cry. "Have you read it recently?"
"Mm, no, I don't think so. But I remember my favorite was always the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. What would you like to see? Past, present, or future?"
He thought for a moment, considering the options. "The past," he answered, wanting to see what his mother was like when she was healthy again.
"I'd want to see the future. Then maybe I could change my fate like Scrooge does. Yes, I think that would be the best choice."
Remaining silent, he listened as she listed off reasons why it'd be better to choose the future. The future is all you could worry about at that moment, so going back or seeing what was happening would do you no good but give you grief and longing. At least seeing the future could give you hope or help you know what mistakes not to make. She was like a motivational speaker, convincing him the future was good. After a while, he agreed and he meant it. He'd like to see the future to know what would happen in his life, but also know what to expect with his mother. He feared his limited time with her, but watching her decay was putting him through a pain he could hardly take any longer. Janet was all he had left of his family and to know that she was in the winter of her life at such a young age made him angry. He cursed who ever dealt him the bad cards and gave him such a fate. She didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.
"Thank you. Thank you."
Chris chuckled, watching as Sheva took a plate at a time from him and ran it under the running facet to clean the plate, next placing the dish in the dishwasher. She'd thank him every time he handed her a plate, making it the sixth time she said it.
"You don't have to thank me every time I hand you a plate, Sheva."
Blinking for a second, she nodded and reached out her hand. "Give me."
Laughing, he did as she commanded and gave her another dish to wash. He could hear the loud chatter coming from rooms away, mostly hearing Becca's high voice. "You did good," he said to Sheva. "I mean with Christmas and everything."
She shrugged. "It was mostly planned by Claire, but thanks. I'm proud of myself." She gave herself a small pat on her shoulder.
"You're all settled in, you should be proud. I don't think I've seen anyone adjust to the American life so easily."
"It's just how I do things," she claimed with a playful smirk, putting the last dish into the washer and turning to him. "Plus, I had a lot of help."
"What? Claire?"
Nodding, she looked around her kitchen. "And from you, too. You helped a lot, you know."
"Hmm, sure," he mumbled, not completely agreeing with her.
"I mean it. You've helped more than anyone."
He seemed to become slightly awkward, scratching the back of his neck and shrugging. He didn't say anything in return, just let the conversation drift off. But she meant what she said. He had helped her more than anyone. Sure, Claire did a lot, but not as much as her brother. Once again blaming the wine, Sheva stepped on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He stiffened considerably at the embrace, leaning back a bit as if she would pull away. But she didn't.
"I meant what I said, Chris," she muttered with her chin resting on his shoulder. "From helping me decide on the house, helping me move in, to being there for me when I thought Josh was dead. Thank you."
It was slow, but he brought his arms to her back and held her there, his body relaxing into the curves of her figure. "I think you're drunk."
"I am, but the truth comes out when people are intoxicated, right?" As she felt him nod, she unintentionally nuzzled her nose against his neck, getting a scent of his cologne. His musky scent sent tingles along her skin, successfully leading a shiver up her spine as he filled her nostrils. As his hand gently stroked her back, a familiar fire rose in her body. When she began to lean into his figure, she could feel him pushing her slightly.
"Sheva," he said her name softly, trying to bring her back to the present and reality. She pulled back a tad and looked into his eyes with her dreary hazel orbs, lids heavy with something he wasn't so sure of. What felt like electricity shot through his body as she brought a hand to his cheek, palm lightly caressing his face.
"You've changed so much," she whispered with what sounded like a sad tone.
Giving her a puzzled expression, he shook his head carefully. "What are you talking about?"
"Since Africa. You've changed."
A heaviness settling upon him, he averted his gaze from her eyes to the curve of her neck. "I haven't changed, Shev."
"Yeah, you have," she quickly responded. "And it's not just exterior. But you look so tired and sad sometimes. It makes me sad."
"I don't want to talk about this." He tried pulling away, but she held him tightly, not letting go. He didn't want to talk about this because he didn't want to admit the downfall of person he had gone through. He wasn't in the mood to talk about depression or the disappointment in his self. He never wanted to talk about it.
"Chris, wait."
She kept pulling him back, tugging at him to stay still and let her look at him, but he kept trying to pull away. As he grabbed for her wrist to pull her hand away from his face, it was either instinct or reaction that made her place her other hand on the other side of face and pull him even closer. She had no idea what she was doing, but to see him retreat from her made her desperate and long for the man she used to know.
"Sheva, let go."
Instead of frowning, which is what she felt like doing, her subconscious kicked in and took over her motor functions. Without thought, she pulled him to her and pressed her lips against his, sighing sweetly at the intimate contact.
Chris's eyes shot open with shock and gaped at Sheva's closed lids. He was still for a moment as she held him in a vice, his heart pumping a mile a minute. But as her lips moved against him, beckoning him to kiss her back, the dormant sexual drive in him pushed him to kiss her back. Not wasting a minute, his arms were wrapped back around her body as he began to move his lips with hers, tasting the sweet acidic remnant of wine on her lips.
When their tongues met, a whimper escaped her, her hands moving to his hair. The heat transferring between their bodies was invigorating, making every nerve in their bodies awaken with excitement. It was like they were back in Lagos, in her home, alone with each other. But it was when he gently pushed her against the counter that the dream shattered.
The coolness of the granite brought some realization back of what was happening to Sheva. As her eyes shot open with consciousness, she pulled away abruptly, bringing her hands to her mouth in surprise. Her body began to shake slightly as she shook her head, gawking at him with a fear in her eye as if she had just seen a ghost.
"Oh God," she gasped while shaking her head.
"Sheva," Chris called her, taking a step closer. He knew what was coming, but he held onto the hope that she'd take a moment and come back to him. As she took more steps back and soon hit the cabinets behind her, he held his breath, waiting for her to speak.
"What did I do?" she questioned herself. She tried looking away from him, but her shock and guilt forced her to stay locked in his gaze. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean… I didn't mean to do that. It was a mistake."
Why was it when your fears were spoken aloud they struck harder than they did inside your head? Chris felt this as he balled his hands into fists by his side, stiffening at her words. "A mistake?" he repeated her with clenched teeth.
She brought a hand to her forehead, feeling the dizziness overcome her. One moment there was one Chris, then three, and back to one. She turned around, resting her forehead on the wooden cabinet and taking deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I'm drunk, I had too much wine. It was my fault. I'm sorry."
Before she could even utter another apology, he was passing by her and heading for the dining room. The chatter coming from down the hall seized and then the next thing heard was Chris's voice talking to Jill.
"Come on, Jill. We have to go," he stated.
It was quiet again, save for the sound of Jill's chair scraping against the floor. The next thing heard was Claire's voice.
"Chris, what's wrong? Why are you leaving so early?"
"It's nothing, Claire. We have to go."
Sheva couldn't see a thing because she had slid down to the ground and hid behind the counters. She heard as Claire followed her brother and Jill down the hall to the front door. Claire asked more questions, but Chris ignored her and just pulled Jill along with him.
"Chris, wait!" Claire nearly shouted. "What the hell is going on?"
"I'll talk to you later, Claire. Merry Christmas." Not even giving her a hug, he left with Jill, closing the door in Claire's face.
"What the…" Claire breathed, baffled at what had just occurred. She ran a hand through her auburn hair, looking at Fat Marvin as he scratched at the door. The cat had followed after Chris as he rushed down the hall with Jill, and now he sat at the door as if Chris was coming back.
Last Claire saw Chris had gone off with Sheva to clean the dishes and then he comes rushing into the dining room basically pulling Jill out of her seat. He was so obviously pissed about something, but what? Just what happened between him and Sheva that got him so worked up?
Thinking of Sheva, Claire looked to the kitchen to see it empty. "Sheva?" she called out. She stepped around the counter to see her best friend leaning against the cabinets with her knees to her chest. Surprised but also slightly scared, she kneeled beside her friend and rested her hand on her arm. "Sheva? What's wrong? What happened?"
What had she done? She couldn't wrap her mind around what just happened for the life of her. She kissed Chris. She just kissed the man she had slept with over two years ago, the man she told she didn't want him, to the man that she was trying to be friends with. And to top it all off, she had just cheated on Piers. On the guy she was starting something wonderful with, on the guy that she was fantasizing so much about, on the guy that was now on the same team with the man she had just cheated on Piers with.
But the worst thing about it all, she wasn't just angry that she had kissed Chris or that she had just ruined their budding friendship. But she was angry at herself because all the feelings she had in Africa were hitting her hard and at that moment, she wanted to chase after him and hold him, begging that he'd hold her back.
"Sheva, what just happened?" Claire pushed angrily. She shook Sheva's arm to gain her attention and to demand an answer more sternly.
Finally looking up at her friend, Sheva held back the sob coming up her throat as her body grew cold. "I messed up, Claire," she muttered. The vision of Claire began to blur as tears formed in her eyes.
"Oh, Sheva," she whispered, gathering the crying woman into her arms and sitting on the kitchen floor with her. Claire held Sheva closely, letting her cry into her hair. She stroked her back, trying to get answers from the brunette, but she was too frantic to say anything. As she cried harder, all Claire could do was say soothing words and optimistic thoughts that everything would be all right. But all Claire could think about, or rather ask herself was: what the hell just happened?
Authors note: Was that as awkward to read as it was to write? Because it felt really awkward writing it. But anyways, I'm going to let you meditate over what just happened between Chris and Sheva as I explain why I put certain things into Piers' situation. I'm sure most of you know what Alzheimer's is and how it works. It's a disease that has played a large role in my own life and the people around me, so I was pretty stoked to include it into my fanfic. And of course it'll make Piers come across more sympathetic if he hasn't already and create a more in-depth background for the man.
HolleringHawk65: Ha, yeah. We all know what happens to Piers… *sniffle* Thanks!
Sheva Redfield: I'm having a hard time warming up to Sheva and Piers together but they're both good looking people, so that makes it easier, haha. Oh, it's okay. You don't have to explain if you're busy. Thanks! :)
mrssherrymuller: Aw, that's nice to hear. I'm such a major Creva fan too, so I'm having a little trouble getting on the Piers/Sheva ship, but I have to admit they make a lovely couple. Eek, we can already see something bad happening between Sheva and Jill being friends. Thanks!
TheHappening: Thanks!
wolfspiritqueen: Haha, gotta love the cliffhangers.
borismortys: Oh, I really like that quote from TDK and I think it applies to both Piers and Chris pretty well. I don't feel that Carlos's career is a major priority, but I'll try to bring it up soon. I think why I haven't addressed it is because of that fact that I don't know what to put him in. I'm thinking something more humble like an organization for struggling foreigners from South America or something along those lines. I'll have to think about it and I might go to you for brainstorming because you seem to have a better idea for Carlos than I do. I think with Carlos's background and Sheva's, they'd have a fair amount in common and could probably become good friends because of that. But thanks and I'll try to get on that for future chapters.
toby7400: I find it funny that you're rooting for Josh to be in bad shape. Bad juju for Josh. The guess for the girl in the prologue was good, but Clementine won't come along for quite a while longer. I'm fairly certain that Revelations is set four years before the events in RE5, but I'm the last person you should rely on when it comes to the timeline. Eek! I like the idea of Jill going back to brunette. I'll jot the idea down. :)
Mss. KB: Aw, thank you, Karina! A daughter of Piers'? Now that would have been a true plot twist. Too bad I'm not clever enough to come up with that! Hugs and more hugs. :)
JustSomeGirl17: And I'm a lazy writer so our laziness works well together. ;D It's totally cool, kids are tiring and make our brains fry. These fictional characters have already made me lose my sanity! I just want to sit them down and tell them the way this world works and they need to get over themselves! Oh gosh, being anywhere in the web of cheating would suck royally. I like Carlos and stuff, but Chris could whoop is ass like a toothpick. In RE6 when Chris and Leon had that little scuffle, I was just face palming thinking that Leon hasn't got nothing against the Peach Hulk. Arrivederci, thy colorful dragonfly! :)
For the next chapter, we get a prospective from Claire, Chris, and of course, Sheva. It's not a particularly long chapter, but its mix of different opinions and emotions. And if you're thinking why on earth do we get a prospective from Claire, well that's because she's nosy and she works her way not only into Sheva's life but also my chapters unexpectedly.
-Sarai
