ALBERT WESKER

Wesker took a sip of his coffee as he clicked through the files that Umbrella had on Mila Muller. He was surprised that Umbrella had not taken note of her rare blood disease, but it seemed that she tended to keep it under wraps and hadn't transferred any of her medical files and didn't qualify for Umbrella insurance with her current hours and payrate. It was easy to trace down her medical files though–and how any medical center she visited ended up at a dead end. It seemed that she was almost always in a great deal of pain, often requiring mobility aids, though the disability tended to be dynamic and was flexible in pain and mobility levels. She was a highly interesting specimen, her symptoms not lining up when any flags on tests that had been previously performed.

And…she was smart too. He could tell even from their brief interactions that she was quick as a whip. Just needed to work on her confidence. She was a beautiful young lady, her thick hair tied into a braid that fell down her back like a wave of dark water. It helped when one was…fascinating in more than one facet.

He was sure that a raise and getting her more involved would motivate her to take a few tests for him to see what he could do with it. What he could make of it, of her.

After all, he grew bored easily. He could always use a new project.

MILA MULLER

Mila shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She was no stranger to needles, but this one seemed to pierce especially deep, and seemed to be thicker than normal. She was not a fan.

"Hm, if you think that's bad, wait until we do a marrow biopsy." Wesker droned. "I'll have an energy bar and electrolytes ready for you if you grow faint."

"Thank you, but I should be fine. I'm used to this after all." Mila nodded. "So…what tests are you doing?"

It was Mila's first visit to Albert Wesker's personal lab. He was even more important than she had first thought. It made her fidget a bit, but she tried to hide the anxiety behind conversation.

"Right now I am running standard blood tests. It's a basic place to start. Running you for autoimmune flags and then taking samples to analyze. In the future biopsies, as I previously mentioned, will be necessary."

"I've experienced some muscular atrophy and heart arrhythmia in the past." Mila said nervously. "I've only ever had bloodwork and x-rays… A biopsy of my tissues won't affect that, will it?"

Wesker seemed to snap out of scientist mode and turned, flashing a small smile. "You need not worry, Mila. You are in capable hands. X-rays were a poor choice as well. I would recommend a CT scan."

Mila shrugged. "I always thought that too. But doctors never listened to me. Not in Edonia or America."

"Well, here I am more than interested in what my patient has to say. I want to help you, after all."

Mila smiled. "I appreciate it. Are we almost done with the needle yet though, Dr. Frankenstein?"

Wesker smirked. "Almost. We'll need to take a final few samples for analysis." He leaned down towards her, a few sterile blood culture tubes and a coagulation tube in hand.

"I feel like you're just draining me dry at this point," Mila joked. When he leaned in she could smell his cologne, dark and peppery, maybe with a hint of bergamot. It was sharp, just like him, and she resisted taking a big sniff like some sort of freak.

"Not yet." Wesker said flatly, but with the corner of his mouth quirked up. "That test will come later." He popped the first of the tubes into the chamber and began drawing blood, focused on the task at hand.

Mila hummed as he took the blood samples, noting her blood was coming out slower. After a few seconds, she started to feel dizzy. Her head swam a bit and she leaned forward, realizing she had cotton mouth and that it was difficult to speak up. Everything blurred for a moment and–

The edge of a bottle was pushed to her lips, and she began sucking down the cold berry flavored liquid greedily.

"Now, my lady, you should have told me you were feeling faint." Wesker chastised, putting a finger to her forehead to check her temperature. "You're clammy. Pale. Perhaps I took too much from you."

"Yeah." She pulled back from the bottle, taking a deep breath. "It came on fast." She felt her hand tremor, the faintness on top of her pain more than a little overwhelming.

"Now now." Wesker turned, taking an energy bar off the counter. "I had a feeling this would happen." He unwrapped the bar and held it up to Mila's mouth. "Let me take care of you."

Mila reached for the bar with a shaky hand but found that she couldn't grasp it. Wesker's hand didn't move, and he stared at her with a small smile. Encouraging.

Mila swallowed. No one had ever really taken care of her before. Not like this. Not feeding her.

She let herself sink against the chair and took a bite, chewing the energy bar slowly. It too was berry flavored–blueberry if she could tell correctly. Distantly, she wondered if that was his favorite flavor.

It continued like this for a few moments–a back and forth of electrolyte beverage and energy bar. After a while, Mila seemed to stabilize and could lean forward again, her breathing back to normal and left with only a small headache. Well. That and the normal pain.

She looked up at Wesker and couldn't help a smile. For as sweet as he was being, he looked a little silly. Sunglasses indoors paired with his labcoat, stiff as a cardboard cutout. "Thank you. That was more than a little embarrassing."

"It was human of you." Wesker said, his sunglasses tipped down ever so slightly so she could see his icy blues. "Nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, I think that is enough testing for today. As a thank you for enduring me, how about I buy you lunch?"

Mila flushed. "That would be nice. Thank you!"

Wesker handed her her cane, and held out a hand to help her to her feet. "And in return, I'd love to hear more about Edonia."

She grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

XXX

ALBERT WESKER

"So what was your childhood like?"

Wesker stalled. No one had ever really been terribly concerned about him or his childhood before–not even Birkin, who had been there for part of his adolescence and young adulthood. He was ill prepared for the question.

He had enjoyed hearing Mila talk–her stories were colorful. He knew that the Edonia Republic had a history of civil war and economic crisis, though Mila described it as a beautiful place. She talked lovingly of her father who had raised her alone after her mother died during childbirth, a father who had done everything he could to help her with his chronic illnesses until he died as a casualty of civil war. She reminisced on friends and how she needed to write letters, how much she loved the snow, her favorite local foods when they were available…

She almost made it sound like a paradise. But he knew better. She wouldn't have obtained a visa and left the country if it was. Hm.

His early childhood on the other hand… So much of it was a dark blur. Needles, blood, the smell of chemicals. Not much different from now. He didn't really have a favorite food or a favorite memory. Things became more clear when he was a little older. He remembered fondly his education, top of the line while living in one of the Spencer Foundation's homes. There wasn't much to talk about other than intellect and ideals though, but things became slightly more entertaining when he entered the Umbrella Executive Training Center and met a young Birkin.

Wesker chewed his tuna salad sandwich thoughtfully, eyes roaming the cafeteria behind his glasses. "My childhood is nothing to brag about. I was raised in a home but with my intellect I earned one of the best educations that the Spencer Foundation could afford. After graduation, I was enrolled into an executive training program. My colleague Birkin and I were at the top of our class. The rest is history."

"So I guess you've always been a professional then, eh?" Mila chuckled.

Wesker couldn't help but smile. The woman had a charming laugh. She was genuinely a joy to talk to. It made him want to open up more.

"Not always." Wesker smirked, leaning back. "I had my wild days. Birkin and I would get up to no good and play pranks on our colleagues." He neglected to mention it was due to them thinking said colleagues were lesser than they were.

"Oh? Like what?"

"I remember Leslie Crew. Oh, he thought he was the cream of the crop because he came from a rich family. He was quite the fool and didn't deserve his placement in the program." Wesker sneered. "He thought it'd be funny to bully young Birkin, who was only sixteen at the time. A prodigy. It was Birkin's idea to egg and 'paint-bomb' the family estate."

Mila let out a guffaw. "You really did that?!"

Wesker chuckled. "We did. And we were never found out either, even if Crew was dead set that it was our doing. I covered up our tracks well."

"Maybe you do know how to let loose!" Mila teased, nibbling at her pickle.

Wesker propped his chin up on one hand, admiring the way the light from the cafeteria window played across her dark eyes. "Perhaps I do."

xxx

MILA MULLER

"He sounds very handsome." Ella played her fingers over Mila's freshly dried hair, smiling gently. "Do you like him?"

"Like him?!" Mila exclaimed. "I hardly know him!"

Mila and her roommate Ella sat together in their apartment on Mila's bed, soft twilight filtering through the blinds. Mila had just finished drying her hair, letting Ella braid it per usual the help with her sensory issues. This time Ella insisted that Mila allow her to tie it together with a bow, insinuating that her new boyfriend would find it charming.

"You do not have to know someone bone deep to like them." Ella said mischievously. "Besides, he sounds like a catch. Smart, good job, handsome, well spoken, charitable, kind. What more could a woman ask for? Need I keep going?"

Mila rolled her eyes. "I get it, I get it! I'd…like to know him better first though. Even if he is sweet."

"He fed you. What is more intimate than that? You're practically married!" Ella joked.

Mila turned, a fed up look on her face but eyes twinkling. "Leave me alone!"

"Fine. But then who will braid this beautiful hair?" Ella smiled, the crow's feet around her eyes crinkling happily.

It was always like this in their apartment–Mila and Ella were both immigrants who had fought for their place in America, who understood the struggle of their respective countries and leaving them for new opportunities. Because of that, both of them always made sure home was a warm and inviting place, even when it felt like the world was against them. Ella often burned cinnamon incense and cleaned like a mad hatter, and cooked some of the best food Mila had ever had.

Ella herself was an older woman with thinning black hair and sparkling brown eyes, always in some sort of colorful dress. She was quiet about losing her family before coming to America, and had practically adopted Ella when they first met via a rental assistance program for immigrants.

"Fine then, you can stay!" Mila chuckled before turning back around to let Ella continue the work of braiding her hair.

Mila was hard pressed to admit it, but… She really did like Wesker. He seemed like an enigma, a little flat sometimes, but she could tell he was kind. He had plenty of time and money and had decided to use it on her for a personal project. A project just between the two of them.

Maybe…there could be more between just the two of them.

But Ella didn't need to know that.