Summary : Chris visits Jill's grave and has a good cry.
Status of their relationship in this one shot : Not dating, nor have they admitted feelings, but they are both in love with each other.
Every waking morning, of every fucking day, he can't forget. Chris cannot forget what happened back in August. It rots in the front of his mind, twenty four seven. He can't even say he wishes to forget, because he doesn't, he just wishes the pain could be numbed.
The amount of misery Chris is enduring is too much. It's slowly causing him to shut down. No motivation for absolutely anything.
He misses her, so fucking much. More than he could fathom. His heart aches at the near thought of her.
Waking up has been the worst part of the day for Chris. Sometimes, he wishes he'll just die in his sleep so the pain can fade, and he can end his suffering. But he can't. He knows she's somewhere, she can't be dead, she just can't be.
As his thoughts faded, Chris sleepily walked into the restroom, turning the light on, which caused him to close his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping right recently. Maybe two to three hours every other day. If he tries to sleep, it all just hits him, all those memories of what occured.
"Shit." Chris mumbled to himself, splashing the cold faucet water onto his emotionless face, waking himself up as much as he could advance.
His hair felt greasy, and he didn't feel clean. He hadn't showered in a good week or two, due to lack of motivation. All he's wanted to do as of recently is lay in bed or go on missions, in hopes of being able to take his mind off of all that's happened.
Treading over to the shower, Chris turned the handle of the shower, leaving it on the cooler setting, dreading even the idea of a hot shower.
Looking down at the shower floor, watching as the water streamed quickly into the rusted, small drain.
Chris reached his rough felt hands to his back, pulling off his red, old long sleeve shirt, leaving himself shirtless, his torso full of scars and bruises from his past missions and events he's participated in.
Next, he removed his pants, then his underwear, becoming nude, stepping into the shower, water instantly hitting his fit body, causing him to sigh in vexation, placing his two arms in front of him on the shower wall.
His head was looking down, only the shower floor and his own feet in sight. The chilly water was dripping off of his light brown hair, droplets rolling off his forehead and onto his nose, and quivering lips.
Grief isn't something that has always bothered Chris. You lose teammates, that's the life he lives, but now, grief isn't just something Chris can take with stride, it's now consumed him wholey. Chris had never felt this way before. The fucking guilt he feels is unbearable.
If only he was strong enough to fight that bastard off, Jill wouldn't of had to step in. He could've ensured her safety. He could've stopped it. Instead of Jill, it was meant to be him, that's all he can think about.
"Jill..." Chris muttered out, his voice shaky as he whispered her name. "Fuck." Chris shouted, covering his face as he turned his head up towards the shower head.
While he knew, he just knew, she wasn't dead, he still couldn't stop his broken heart from acting out.
There isn't enough evidence. Her hat and necklace was left behind, on that cold, dirt, moist ground. That day was one of the worst of his life.
Chris had ambled around all of the Spencer Estates land, searching for any remains of her, that's the day he found those belongings. Ever since, he's cherished them, kept them for himself.
Her hat smells just like her, even her necklace. Before bed, he just sits on his bed, holding both items, and smells them. Could sound weird, but he just misses her so much, any smell that remotely reminds him of her, he'll relish in.
Grabbing the bar of soap, he began to scrub his muscular arms, watching as small, soapy bubbles formed on them. Chris then turned his body, allowing the icy felt water to soak his arms, letting the soap fall off of him.
Doing the same action to his other arm, he then did it to his legs and torso. The lack of motivation has been getting to him but today, he's gained at least a sliver of it to make some progress in taking care of himself.
-
After finishing up his shower, Chris turned off the shower, and hopped out of it, grabbing a grey cloth towel, and wrapped it around his waist, just deciding to let his upper half air dry.
Living alone is a pro, especially in Chris's case. Since there's nobody around, he can remain in such a vulnerable state.
It would be nice though, if he had Jill with him. They had discussed moving in together and what not, but only as friends...
Walking out of his restroom, he strolled towards the small, wooden table sitting in the middle of the kitchen, and grabbed a pack of cigarettes off of it, reaching his thick fingers at an angle to grab a single one.
He placed the cigarette between his two lips, grabbing his black lighter and lighting up the cig, taking a drag of it, exhaling the nicotine slowly. Chris moved over to the big window in his smaller sized home, just staring out of it.
Big trees covered the land, the breeze causing the dead leaves to fall off of the trees, trickling down onto the dewey grasslands. Chris loved where he had been living, if only Jill could be here with him, enjoying it with him.
Taking one last drag of the cigarette, Chris then smushed it into the dirty, dusty ashtray, leaving the cigarette butt in it.
His smoking habit had been gone since the early two-thousands, until now, he picked the habit right back up like there was never any gap of when he had quit. Part of why he quit, was for the BSAA but also for Jill, because she despises it. The smell of cigarette smoke makes her nauseous.
Chris sighed and headed towards his closest, opening it slowly and grabbing out a shirt and some jeans, just something casual.
Whilst getting dressed, Chris was thinking about what he wanted to do for the day. Lately, all he's been doing is either laying in bed, crying or sleeping, or he'll drive around, trying to get his mind off of what's been happening in his life.
Making his decision, he chose to go and visit Jill's grave. Chris knows she's alive, she just can't be gone, he refuses to believe it. Although, visiting the tombstone makes him feel as though he's actually speaking with her. It's just a coping mechanism.
Wandering over to the table, once again, he picked up his pack of cigarettes, then his truck keys and began heading out the front, small door, wanting to leave his depressing, closed in home.
Outside, it was cold. Fall time was Chris's favorite, but he honestly couldn't be elated about it, without Jill by his side, enjoying it with him.
A memory Chris often remembers between him and Jill is when the two were walking in a park, it was just some random one they decided to visit when in Indiana. It was windy, and Jill had gotten cold, Chris remembered how she had complained about it, the way her cute nose scrunched when she made a playful angry face rested in his mind.
The reasoning as to why he adores the memory so much is how they had hugged. The way Jill had wrapped her arms around him, stuffing her face in his chest as he caressed her hair gently, making her feel safe.
Chris had just felt so euphoric in that exact moment. The blissful hug they shared was perfect. Happiness was something Chris has always searched for, and he had it with her. And now, that happiness is missing.
It'll only be back once he finds her, which he swears he will. The confidence he has when it comes to knowing she's still alive is out of this roof.
Treading out to his truck, he double clicked the unlocking button on his keys, hearing his truck beep, ensuring it's not locked anymore.
Leaves crunched beneath his feet, his thick, leather boots making noise as he stomped along. He looked up at the sky, it was quite gloomy out. Felt as though the weather was matching his mood.
Getting into the truck, Chris adjusted himself in the front seat, he brought the seatbelt across him, pushing it into the buckle and putting his key into the ignition, switching it on.
He placed his arm around the passenger seat, looking back, as he pulled out of the black pavemented driveway, Chris began driving to the graveyard, dreading it yet knowing he needed this. He needed to just let it out and see her.
Without Jill, Chris feels nothing. He hopes she finds her way back to him, like the Jill he knows and loves would. Is she hurt? Is she kidnapped? Did she just simply run away? Chris doesn't know, but whatever it is, he knows he'll see her again someday.
It's not his delusion, but rather his hope and faith.
-
Continuing to drive, Chris decided to make a pitstop at a floral shop, wanting to pick up some flowers to rest at her tombstone, even though there's no one really buried beneath the grave.
The shop he chose was called, 'Mary's Flower Shop', most likely a small business, or possibly family owned. Opening the truck door, he quickly got out and strided into the shop, instantly smelling the ravishing scent of flowers, which Chris happened to enjoy.
Analyzing the shop, Chris saw a bouquet of flowers caught his eye, making him happy just viewing them. He treaded to them and picked them up, sticking his nose closer to the tops of flowers, sniffing them.
"Smell good?" A older woman questioned Chris as she stood behind him. Chris turned around and placed a smile on his face, not a very real one though. "Yeah, yeah they do." He replied, smelling them again.
"Well honey, most of these are home grown, those are called dahlias, they are very beautiful and last a good long time!" The woman said with a chuckle, slowly walking towards Chris and grabbing the dahlias, to see if they were fresh.
"I see." Chris nodded, watching as the older woman examined the flowers. Her name tag read, 'Mary', just like the shops name. "Do you own this establishment?" Chris questioned, the topic peaking his interest.
"Oh, yes dear, I do! I've owned this marvelous shop for almost four decades." Mary smiled, it was precious beyond belief, making Chris feel some warmth within his dark, cold heart.
"That's impressive." Chris stated, feeling happy for this woman, that she has succeeded in life. "It really is." Mary replied, smiling as she stumbled over to the register, Chris following behind her.
"So darling, who are these for? You got a lady back home? If not, maybe for your mother? I don't mean to pry but I haven't seen no man but flowers in quite some time. Now, back in my day, it was common courtesy, times are changing." Mary expressed, writing down the price of the dahlias as she did.
"I guess you could say that... A special someone, I mean." Chris awkwardly stated, not trying to talk on the situation too much. "Son, you look too young to be married! How old are you exactly?" She asked, staring at him kindly.
"I'm thirty-two, ma'am." Chris muttered, not understanding why this woman was being nosey, but old people can get like that, especially the lonely ones.
"Oh honey, you better make that marriage last! I bet she's a good one!" Mary announced, laughing while confirming Chris's purchase.
"Oh I'm not marr-" Chris went to finish his sentence but Mary cut him off, not even realizing she did so. "Here you go, take great care of these, it's one of my best bouquets, okay?" She said softly, sliding the flowers across the counter, allowing Chris to pick them up.
"Will do, Mary." Chris smirked, grabbing the flowers whilst paying, then heading out of the small, yet comforting shop.
Mary seemed like such a gentle soul, in a way, she reminds him of Jill. She had that same spunk to her, maybe it was the sternness. Or the humor she had. Either way, Chris knows he just misses Jill.
-
Continuing his drive, Chris spotted the sign that alerted people they were near the specific cemetery, the one Jill's tombstone was in, he pulled left into the parking lot, finding an empty space to park in.
Parking his truck, Chris unbuckled and immediately opened the door, hopping out of the seat and stretching his arms, allowing his body to feel alive again.
"Shit..." Chris denoted to himself, rubbing his temple. Before closing his trucks door, he grabbed his cigarette pack from the cup holder, and shoved it into his jeans pocket.
Chris hadn't felt alive recently. All he's been doing in laying in bed, barley eating and not wanting to take care of himself. He wants to though, he wants to be better, for when Jill comes back.
He ambled towards the yard, heading to the further back area, knowing that's where the tombstone was.
His head was full of thoughts. It breaks his heart to even think about what if she really is dead. But she can't be, and he will deny deny deny until proven otherwise.
Flowers in hand, Chris reached it, Jill's gravestone. It was a little discolored from the rain that covered it the night before. There really isn't any decorations around her stone, just some dead flowers from a week ago, that of course, Chris placed.
Standing there, Chris simply admired the grave, staring at the 'Jill Valentine' that was so enamoring to look at. Her tombstone was beautiful, but it wasn't her.
"Oh Jill..." Chris sighed to himself, kneeling down and placing the dahlias neatly on the side. He also placed his hand on the top of the stone, holding it firmly. "I hope you like dahlias." He uttered.
Talking to the tombstone did somewhat bring him comfort. Knowing she's not below, in the dirt, is what helped bring him comfort, knowing she wasn't actually dead. She can't be.
Chris grunted as he sat down beside the stone, adjusting his position to be more comfortable. "I haven't been myself lately... It's just been so bleak." Chris muttered to himself, but also to the gravestone.
"I've been picking up so many missions, anything that can lead me back to you..." Chris whispered, picking at the wet grass, flicking the slivers of it in front of him, like a child would at recess.
"I have refused every partner they've tried assigning me, they just aren't you. No one could ever be you. I wanna be alone, forever." Chris stated, looking down at the dirty stone, drops of rain begining to fall upon him.
"Well, unless you come back. If you come back, I wanna be with you. I'm..." He stopped speaking for a second. "I'm in love with you, Jill Valentine."
In silence, Chris just let his mind roam. All that kept happening were flashbacks of that horrific night. The sight of Jill falling with Wesker, her desperate yell as he shoved that asshole out of the window, Chris can't escape it.
"Why would you do this, Jill? It should've been me, not you. You didn't deserve that." Chris whispered, his voice shaky as he spoke the words. "My intentions were only to keep you safe, and you had to just-" He stopped speaking, placing his veiny hands onto his head, running his fingers through his still damp hair, pulling on it aggressively, almost as if to punish himself.
Holding back tears, Chris sighed deeply. He wasn't one to cry, or show much emotion. Chris cannot remember the last time he genuinely cried, until recently. Losing Jill has taken such an impact on him. "Don't cry." Chris muttered to himself, placing his hand on the bottom of Jill's tombstone, feeling as though he's actually touching her.
"I'll find you Jill, I promise. You're my top priority." Chris spoke, moving his head back, stretching his neck. Lately, it's felt like his body is just broken. Like he's shutting down. He doesn't feel alive anymore. To say Chris is depressed is an understatement.
The rain began to pick up, getting rougher, lightening and thunder being seen and heard nearby. Chris stood up and looked down at her grave once more. "I'll see you soon, no matter what I have to do."