Request #02

My second fic that I offered to write for another streamer friend who does enjoy some shirtless Carlos ;)

Jill awoke to her whole body jolting with a thud.

"Wake up, super cop, time to alight."

Her eyes fluttered open in time to see Carlos patting her shoulder with a thin smile. The midday sun glared through the chopper windows, and she slowly stretched her sore and tired limbs.

"Where are we?" moaned Jill as she stifled a yawn with her hand.

"Don't know," Carlos replied, sliding open the chopper door.

Jill slowly stood up to compensate for the pain crawling through her body; the last few days had been a literal fucking nightmare. Zombie infested streets right outside her apartment, corrupt military operatives, and that…thing…the grotesque being that was probably a man once in its sorry existence, the monster that relentlessly pursued her through the streets of Raccoon City.

Jill groped at the bandage bound around her left arm before looking back up at Carlos, who was now observing his surroundings outside the choppers.

The monster had pricked her with something, she can recall now, and she had immediately felt so ill. So ill. She vaguely remembered hearing a voice…whose was it? It had told her to fight it…Carlos?

She slowly strode to the chopper door and looked out, grasping the side panel lightly. They were in a barren field somewhere, with the remains of a harvest around them. The Sun bore down on her; while it was now October 1st, the heat was still considerable. Carlos hopped back into the chopper and began pulling the cargo boxes out.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for some things; radio, a water canteen maybe, just anything really," Carlos shifted on his knees and looked up at Jill with concern, "chopper fuel ran out, and I don't really know how far we are from anywhere."

"Were you aiming for anywhere?" Jill asked, and Carlos shook his head.

"I figured Umbrella would be after us both, so I flew as far south as I could get the metal baby going. Sorry. I should have stopped off near society."

"We're in for a hike, yeah?" enquired Jill, and Carlos sighed heavily.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine."

"I'll get you somewhere safe, I promise," Carlos mumbled before resuming his search for items, and Jill dropped out of the door. The dried and cut crops crunched under her boots, and once Carlos had joined her they wordlessly abandoned the chopper, one of their last reminders of the nights before.

Dusk was slowly falling upon the two Raccoon City survivors as they finally happened upon a small lakeside town. Their water canteen spent, the small packets of ration crackers now depleted, they slowly shambled down an empty street, towards a dimly lit motel sign.

"Wonder if they've got rooms?" Jill asked, barely able to stand on her sore, tired and blistered feet.

"Yeah, maybe…this place doesn't exactly look like it's bustling with a tourist party," noted Carlos as he glanced around, "I bet most of the rooms are vacant."

"But wait," Jill stopped walking, placing her hand on Carlos' arm, "Neither of us have money."

Carlos smirked at her as he reached into his flak jacket, pulling out a few leather wallets. Jill raised an eyebrow, and he nodded before stuffing them away, his expression slipping.

"I don't feel good about it, but they were on the ground in Spencer Memorial Hospital, there weren't even bodies near them; probably zombies that had wandered off," he shrugged, "whoever wants to judge me can judge me, I don't care, certainly not now. Not now I know just how fucked up Umbrella really is."

"I don't judge you," remarked Jill, and Carlos shrugged again. A low mumble in the distance accompanied dull, grey clouds, and the pair looked at each other, before hurrying to the motel.

"I'm on official escort business," spat Carlos, flashing his UBCS ID, "it's my job to take this woman to where she is needed. That's why I'm kitted out the way I am. Now please, give us a room. Twin room."

"We don't have a twin room, sir, in fact only one room is left. The rest are taken or under maintenance after a flood," the plump, middle aged woman behind the counter shook her head, "either a double or nothing."

Jill and Carlos looked awkwardly at each other, and Carlos slapped $80 on the counter.

"Fine. One night," he grunted.

The woman slid the notes off the desk and spun in her chair, reaching up to grab a key off the wall behind her. Jill noted that the other hooks were empty, and a plastic tray sat below them with about a dozen keys in; spares? Carlos took the key and they wordlessly walked along the veranda to their room.

Carlos turned the key, pushed at the door and swore.

"Wrong key or what?" he grumbled. Jill pulled her arms to her chest as she felt the charge in the air from the approaching storm, and after a few more seconds of failed key turns and bad words, the door finally opened. They stepped in, and Jill flicked the switch.

"Well…" Carlos sighed as they scanned the room, "it's no luxury hotel in Las Vegas, but at least you can get your head down for a while."

"Me?" frowned Jill, "what about you?"

"I'll er…" he pointed to an old wooden chair by an equally old wooden desk in the corner, "I'll take the chair."

"Look, I'll take the sheet off the duvet, you have one, I'll have the other, the bed is big enough for both of us," explained Jill.

"No, no, I-" Carlos glanced about nervously and ran a hand through his tangled curls, "you need the comfort more than me, I mean-"

"Carlos," Jill said firmly, and she approached him, "I spent two or three days unconscious, you didn't. You need the rest more than me. If anything, I'll take the floor."

"Jill, no, you were infected, you need rest."

"And YOU were watching over me, YOU need rest!"

"Look," Carlos blew sharply from his nose and lowered his tone, "look, take a shower, or bath, whatever is in there. I saw a clothes store on the last block, I'll grab us some new duds."

Jill stood, almost chest to chest with him, and she nodded silently in agreement.

"We'll talk more about sleeping arrangements when you get back, then."

"Sure," agreed Carlos, and with that he turned heel and exited the room. She stepped into the bathroom, and was relieved to find it in much better condition than the bedroom; a simple bathtub on feet filled the opposite end of the room, the toilet and sink flanked the centre of the room, opposite each other. On the wall by the sink was a product dispenser, for women's and men's uses at a small fee of ten cents.

She removed her blue top, her jeans, her boots, and eyed the pile of sewage, blood and whatever other questionable fluids soaked the fibres of her outfit.

She picked them up with a grimace of disgust, dropped them into the sink, and headed back into the bedroom, naked. She searched through drawers, over the tiny kitchenette until-

"Good," she grinned.

With matches in hand, she strolled back into the bathroom, lit one, and dropped it onto her clothes. They ignited with surprising speed, and Jill shielded her face from the flames, stepping backwards on the cold tiles.

"Farewell to RC…fucking burn…"

She wrapped her arms over her chest, sighed at the flaming clothes, and finally began to run a bath.

"Jill?!"

Jill bolted upright, sloshing tepid water over the edges of the tub.

"Y-yeah, yeah what's up?"

"Sorry, been an hour in there for ya, you ok?"

"Yeah…I must've dozed off?"

"No worries, I got you some clothes, hope they're ok for you."

"Ok, lemme just wash up and I'll be out. I've got a towel."

After lathering and rinsing the cheap motel shampoo from her hair and furiously scrubbing the final traces of Raccoon City from her skin, she got out and swung a towel around her body. It was a little short for comfort, but as long as she didn't bend over, Carlos wouldn't be seeing more than he was meant to.

She stepped back into the bedroom with a shiver, and Carlos very briefly looked at her before diverting his eyes.

"I'll um, yeah, I'll go wash. I don't feel like a bath though, so won't be long."

"Good luck washing in the sink, I burnt my clothes."

Carlos chuckled as he walked to the bathroom;

"Honestly? Don't blame ya, I might throw mine in there too!"

He laughed once more, his voice echoing off the tiles, and Jill heard the running water once again beginning to fill the bath. She lay on the bed, still draped in the towel, and couldn't fight the onset of sleep as it descended upon her again.

It wasn't until she felt the towel slip slightly that she awoke with a start.

She watched Carlos flinched backwards in the now dim room, eyes wide and hands up in the air above his shoulders. Thunder rumbled overhead, but not so much that it was deafening.

"Easy easy, your towel slipped off, I was trying to tighten it around you, and er…" he held up a duvet, "was gonna tuck you in."

Jill clutched at the lump of tucked in towel at her armpit, and Carlos backed away further towards the old desk with the equally old chair, a duvet sheet draped over it. She sighed and smiled before making eye contact.

"The bed is big enough for both of us. Just get in. I'll get dressed," she gestured to the clothes that Carlos had purchased a few hours ago.

Carlos awkwardly looked at the bed, then back to the chair, and Jill clicked her tongue at him.

"For God's sake, we're both adults, we're both exhausted, just get into bed."

Carlos shuffled from one foot to another as Jill slid off the bed, dropping the towel and pulling on the clothes that Carlos had left for her. When she turned back, Carlos was lying on the bed, but practically dangling off the side. She laughed inside herself and climbed in, taking care not to brush against him. She remained seated, the duvet pulled to her waist, and her mind wandered over the last few days, of the horrors and abominations that she had witnessed, and barely lived to recall.

"You're ok with me being shirtless?" mumbled Carlos quietly, and Jill shrugged, snapping away from her meandering thoughts..

"Whatever is comfy for you, you know?"

Carlos hummed in response before sitting up.

"Erm…Jill…about erm…Raccoon City…I'm sorry."

Jill looked at him with a frown, and he continued.

"Bottom line is, that was your home. Your work. You had friends. Colleagues." Carlos clenched his fists and exhaled sharply, lowering his voice to a whisper; "we both had friends and colleagues…"

Jill looked ahead at the sideboard on the opposite side of the room. He wasn't wrong. She breathed to speak, but Carlos slamming his fist into the mattress made her jump.

"But FUCKING Umbrella!" He was enraged, his nostrils flaring with each breath, and Jill began considering how to calm him down, "Umbrella, the bastards, the sick, fucking BASTARDS!"

"Carlos…"

"And I fucking worked for THEM! I worked for them, Jill!"

"You didn't know what they were up to, Carlos!"

"FUCK!" He punched the mattress again. His breathing trembled, and though the dim light didn't show it, Jill knew tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"This isn't on you, Carlos," spoke Jill, with firmness but also kindness, but Carlos sneered and turned away from her.

"I lost my platoon leader and one of my subordinates was a fucking slimy weasel!"

"And I lost people too! My captain in S.T.A.R.S was the one who baited us into hell back in July! It was because of him that I lost nearly all of my Bravo team colleagues and two from my own team! There were twelve of us, and only five of us survived! One of which I watched get bitten on September 28th!"

Carlos swallowed, and glanced up at the ceiling, furiously rubbing his eyes.

"Was his name Brad?"

Jill tilted her head in recognition.

"...Yeah…?"

Carlos swallowed again and nodded, lowering his head.

"I er…. he did turn…it was me that finished him off in RPD…"

Jill sat in silence with her eyes closed, fearing how Brad would have looked; shambling about, arms held out, groping in front of him for fresh flesh like…like…

"...all the others…" she whispered.

Carlos looked at her in puzzlement, and Jill returned the gaze.

"You did what was right," she leant to him, her hand resting on his bare shoulder, "he would have wanted it. He was a goddamn coward at worst, but he was still a good guy. He wouldn't want to have hurt anyone if he could help it."

Carlos also rested a hand on her own shoulder.

"Tyrell was with you…I already figured that that….thing…it got him, didn't it?"

Jill nodded solemnly.

"He died to save me."

Carlos gave a wry smile and nodded back.

"He's a good one like that."

They sat for some time, hands on shoulders, both reflecting on their losses.

"And I want to thank you, Carlos," Jill averted her eyes, unable to look him in the eye, "I would have died four times over if not for you. You're not like your former employers. You actually have something good in you."

Jill found that her heart was beating rapidly, like a hummingbird trapped in a cage, and she softly but swiftly kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for saving my life."

Their eyes met once more, but this time there was no trauma, no horrors, no nightmares haunting their gazes.

Only gratitude and comfort.

Almost simultaneously they closed the gap between their bodies and pressed their lips together; Jill's arm wrapping around Carlos' neck as he in turn slid his arm around her back. Their lips parted to taste each other, their tongues in a frenzied dance inside each other's mouths. Carlos groaned softly into her mouth before pulling back.

"I'm sorry, shit…shit sorry, Jill."

Jill ferociously pulled him back towards her, their lips meeting once more, and neither cared that they fell backward to the mattress, neither cared as they felt the physical crave the other had.

In this moment, they were just two survivors of a fucked up world, desperate for a distraction to their waking memories, yearning for something, anything that resembled some kind of normality.

Anything.

Jill didn't push him away, and Carlos didn't retreat.

Nor did they consider the other motel guests in the next room, through thin walls.

Jill awoke with a groan, her entire body aching, and she stretched her arms either side of her. With wide eyes she quickly retracted her arms.

"Sorry, Carlos I didn't mean to stretch my hand into-"

Jill stared at the empty bed beside her.

She slowly sat up and grimaced at the dull ache in her hips, slowly glancing about the room. His new clothes were gone, his assault rifle non-existent.

"The fuck?" she whispered, and she slowly, painfully, twisted her legs over the side of the bed. She was naked, but she didn't care. Where the hell was he? She stood up and yelped softly, deciding to sit back down again.

"Jesus…"

Something caught her eye on the end table by her pillow; a soft plastic…

Jill pinched the item between her thumb and forefinger and laughed quietly.

She held the condom aloft, feeling the weight of its fluid contents, and she remembered; it was her that removed it after last night's events.

"Full load, Carlos? Been a while, huh?"

She focused on the sting in her hips, the throbbing in…other more questionable places;

"Fury fuck, I can relate, heh."

She idly dropped the condom onto the bed and stood up once more, carefully dressing herself in the clothes Carlos had left her (and he had voraciously peeled from her last night); a blue vest top very similar to the one she had, and a pair of skin tight jeans with a fake dungaree chest flap. She shoved her hands into the pockets to straighten them out, and felt…paper? She pinched the note between her fingers, pulled it out and opened it. Inside was hastily scribbled writing;

Jill,

Trust me, I really am not a man to fuck and run, but there were UBCS guys outside, I heard them ask the receptionist for me, their voices woke me up. Sorry, but I couldn't stay. I'd be dead if they found me.

I'm so sorry to leave you alone like I have, really. I've run for Mexico, hopefully I can avoid them until I can work something out. I speak Spanish, so maybe I can get a security job under the radar down there.

You should leave too. I left the rest of the money in the pocket of your new jacket, get going, go join your old S.T.A.R.S buddies, and fucking rip apart Umbrella for me.

Thank you, by the way, for last night. I needed that. I think we both did. I sure as hell hope you weren't seeing someone, hahaha.

Again, forgive me, and believe me when I say I would not have left you with a condom full of my guys if I could help it.

I want to wish you all the best in whatever lies ahead of you. Stay strong, super cop.

Sincerely, the guy who left you a cold and Carlos-full condom.

PS: for the love of God burn this letter. I don't need Umbrella finding out where I am!

Jill folded the note with a nod, and immediately set to burn it in the kitchenette sink. She watched it ignite and shrivel in seconds before saluting it.

"Won't be Carlos-less if you're still out there somewhere," Jill grinned to herself.

With only smouldered paper and a lump of burnt clothes, hers and Carlos' that he had also incinerated along with his UBCS ID, at the bottom of the trash (the condom was placed underneath them, can't take chances with Umbrella loitering around, who knows what they could do with dead sperm), Jill snatched up the key and checked out of the motel, onward bound for France.