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Shattered Memories	By : FatalYaoi Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 5096 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own (nor will I ever) Capcom, Resident Evil, or the characters stated. I receive no profit whatsoever in making or posting this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
.:Chapter 14:.

Lunch

Chris woke to find his chest pressed firmly into the back of his enemy; his arms were wrapped awkwardly around the blond, one caught underneath Wesker and going numb while the other around his waist. Chris went to pull them away when he realized the blond had his right hand tangled around Chris's interlocked hands and he suddenly didn't want to move ever again.

The lack of light told him they still had time to laze about until the inevitable time when Wesker would have to get up for his injections and he wouldn't return for an entire day of which Chris would have to find his own entertainment.

Chris looked down at the villain beneath him and found himself smiling through the darkness. The blond just looked so peaceful in a calm and unbothered sleep. His lips were comfortably together, his breathing was steadily deep, several pieces of hair lay scattered on his pillow and his eyes remained closed- Wesker just looked so damn human.

"Are you finished staring at me?"

Chris let out a soft noise in surprise and he retreated back to his pillow, his cheeks flushed.

"That was certainly manly," Wesker spoke with a bit of a smirk as he looked over his shoulder and saw Chris cowering on his pillow.

"I thought you were- er- asleep," He muttered and wished, more than anything, to get away but his arms were still trapped by Wesker.

"I'm well aware," Wesker stated before sitting up and releasing Chris's arms. The brunet simply pulled his arms against his pillow and watched Wesker reposition himself before laying back so that he was now facing Chris.

Chris's eyes stared into Wesker's eyes, the green overshadowed in the darkness and making them look a dull and lifeless grey. Wesker stared right back, though his stare seemed a lot more haunting and it made Chris uneasy; however, this didn't stop him.

"Why didn't you let me touch you last night?" Chris asked quietly, his hands absentmindedly playing with the pillowcase beneath his head in attempt to calm his nerves.

"Partially to keep control of the situation," Wesker said with a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Partially? What's the other part?"

"Now, Chris. You know this-"

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want to know, Wesker," Chris's words came out slightly stern and were enough to cut the blond off.

"Alright. Do you recall our first sexual encounter?"

"The actual encounter or the tease session before it?"

"The latter, Chris."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Do you recall what I said?" Wesker asked and he saw Chris go into thought, his brown eyes shadowing as he got lost in thought.

At the time, Chris had been in a bit of a denial state and everything was hazy but words stuck out to him through his memories. He remembered a specific statement because it was far before he fell into Wesker's teasing clutches- a short amount of time where he was actually aware of his surroundings and of his lying denial of Wesker.

"You will be mine, Chris," Wesker whispered, his lips brushing against Chris's ear while their chests pressed into each other.

"What if I don't want it?" Chris asked, his arms raising in preparation to push the blond away.

"That's why you wouldn't let me touch you?" Wesker chuckled, the same dark chuckle that reminded Chris that the blond was a villain under all their comfortable (and sexual) moments. "I don't really get it."

"Then perhaps you should over-think it for hours until you somehow create an elaborate solution that is nowhere near correct. You're quite good at that," Wesker suggested.

"Maybe I will," Chris spoke in a bitter mutter.

The bitter look on his face was quickly replaced by a look of surprise as his lips were suddenly connected with Wesker's. His eyes closed almost immediately and, without any sort of hesitation, he began kissing back. It was a chaste kiss (if there was such a thing when it came to Wesker) and when the blond pulled back, Chris was utterly confused.

"What was that for, exactly?" He asked, his lower lip pulling between his teeth as he began biting it absentmindedly.

"Must there be a reason?" Wesker asked, his smirk visible through the shadows that concealed most of his face.

"With you, yeah," Chris muttered as he looked at Wesker cautiously, unsure of whether to smile or pursue the matter.

"I suppose that's correct. Are you considering going into deep thought about this as well, Chris?"

Chris huffed quietly though quickly grew lighthearted about the statement as he realized Wesker was actually being playful.

The brunet smirked and leaned forward, capturing the blonde's top lip between his. A soft moan escaped Chris when the villain pushed into the kiss and their bodies somehow became much closer and pressed together than they were just moments before. There was nothing sensual or innocent about the kiss- It was completely fueled by passion and wanton desire.

Chris knew, somewhere inside of him, it was wrong. It was wrong of him to be slipping his tongue into Wesker's awaiting mouth and it was wrong for him to find enjoyment when the blond teased him with his fingers as they grazed down his body. It was wrong for Chris, the hero, to want Wesker, the villain, as much as he did and it was far more wrong for Chris to be actually falling for the blond.

Chris played and replayed how wrong the situation was over in his head as he somehow kept getting farther lost in the kiss he was sharing with Wesker. They momentarily stopped for breaths before diving in again and, before long, Chris found himself on his back with Wesker over him. The blond was being supported by his right arm while his left explored Chris's chest.

Wesker pulled, just barely, away from Chris; Their lips lingered just inches apart and when the blond spoke, Chris could feel every breath that left Wesker.

"We haven't the time," the blond muttered, his left hand tracing lazy circled around Chris's pectoral muscles.

"I know," Chris mumbled before giving Wesker's lips another peck and smiling. "Can I ask you something?"

Wesker sighed and his left hand slowed but remained moving as he nodded.

"Why did you choose me? You had Excella Gionne in your grasp who was obviously interested and yet you killed her and kidnapped me. You probably could have had Jill-" Chris cut off as he realized it was best not to continue that idea. "My point is, why me?"

"Excella was simply useless. She had her uses, at the time, but only did what she was told and only wanted power. It wouldn't have worked out," Wesker chuckled but continued. "And Jill was never meant to be a permanent situation."

"Neither is this, according to you," Chris shot, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.

"Yes, well, this seemed more-" Wesker glanced at the brunette's smile before finishing, "-stimulating."

Chris chuckled and shrugged in agreement. The brunet was expecting an answer like that but needed it nonetheless. It was as if he had to be reminded every once and a while that he was simply entertainment to a situation that would otherwise be rather unbearable for both of them. Wesker had no intention of pushing it farther than their little situation and they would never be (dare Chris even think it) lovers. They remained enemies.

"Stimulating is definitely the word for it," Chris muttered, his head repositioning on the pillow beneath him.

"I should be leaving," Wesker said as his fingers abruptly stopped their tracing and he sat up completely.

Chris looked past Wesker's sitting form to the window and sighed as dawn was approaching and the sun was beginning to shine streaks of orange through the window. Frowning, Chris sat up as well, sheets tangled around his legs preventing him from moving much as he watched Wesker slide from the bed and begin dressing.

"What else is that serum doing to you?" The brunet asked, watching Wesker pull on his black shirt and zip it until it enclosed snugly around his neck. The blond sighed and answered as he began pulling on his gloves.

"It's weakening my abilities. My speed, strength, accelerated healing- everything is weakened and is continuing to weaken. However, this morning should be a bit of a change." Chris heard the stiffness in Wesker's voice when he spoke of his weaknesses and noticed the sudden shift in voice when he was talking about improvements in the serum.

"I hope it goes well then," Chris said as Wesker rounded the bed to where the brunet sat.

Chris almost immediately found what he said to be highly ironic but ignored the thought.

Wesker leaned down and Chris strained up, catching the blonde's lips with his own before pulling away with a hiss of pain. A sharp ache had just jolted from his backside up his spine causing him to fall back into his sitting position.

"You didn't tell me it would hurt," Chris muttered, his eyes glaring to the blond who hovered over him with a look of amusement.

"I didn't expect it to. They were just fingers but without the proper-"

"Just go," Chris muttered, his head bowing in embarrassment.

"This is why I chose you, Chris. You are simply amusing," Wesker said, his forefinger curling under Chris's chin to force his head up. Once he was able to see into Chris's eyes, he leaned in for a kiss- bending just enough so that Chris didn't have to strain to kiss him back. It was quick, an apology in Chris's eyes and the fact that he'd kissed back meant Wesker was forgiven.

"Join me in the kitchen in two hours," Chris looked at Wesker in confusion but the blond merely chuckled darkly. "I trust I'll see you there?"

"Yeah, sure," Chris agreed, his smile unsure but sincere. "See you then."

Wesker turned on his heel and treaded out of the room, leaving Chris to sit tangled in the sheets with a stinging pain in his back. Chris laid back until his head touched the pillow once again. His back tensed momentarily as it fought the pain from shifting positions and before long, he was engrossed in his thoughts once again.

-xx-

It was as if the look in Sheva's eyes reminded him of Jill and in that one moment- a thousand things all flooded through Chris. In that one moment, he realized not only did he underestimate Sheva but if she was going to let go then so was he.

And just as he predicted, with one fleeting look, Sheva let go. Her fingers unlatched themselves from the pole that she was just so desperately clinging to and then so did Chris.

"NO!"

The brunet lunged forward, his arm outstretched. He ran forward, most of the gravity doing the work for him, and grabbed her outstretched hand. His right kept hold of the pole that she had just been clinging to while his left had just saved his partner. Wesker watched the two from his position and Chris looked quickly from the newly saved Sheva to the villain still latched onto her ankle.

"I'm taking the two of you with me!" Wesker shouted, moving to grab Sheva's ankle with his other hand to secure his position though a quick kick from the woman quickly had him pulling his arm back so that he remained hanging with his right hand.

"Like hell you will!" Sheva shouted back before reaching into her holster to grab onto her handgun.

One closed ranged unavoidable shot and Wesker let go, falling into the giant open space that threatened to devour them all.

"Damnit!" Chris muttered under his breath as his expected splitting headache returned. He groaned quietly but was happy that, for once, he hadn't awoken to his own deafening yells. His palms rested on either side of his head protectively, his body curled into itself as he waited the pain to vanish.

Slowly, as always, the pain began dissipating and just when the headache turned minor, his head began spinning. He was tired of his mind only giving him bits and pieces of memories and he wasn't sure how much longer he could handle having to find out his past in parts.

Chris rolled over, his backside aching from the shift but the pain was dull and easy to ignore. His eyes fell on the window that was now showing bright streams of light through the glass and he couldn't hold the sigh that escaped him.

Sheva and Jill were out there somewhere- looking for him or trying to move on with their lives as they accept his fate or maybe fighting over whether he was alive or dead; Chris could only guess. The thought crossed his mind for the second time in days- what if they actually found him? What would he do if he was given the chance to escape Wesker? Would he take it?

Chris was truly unable to give himself a direct answer and he frowned, his eyes trailing away from the window.

More questions swam through his mind and he began questioning the 'what ifs' of his situation. What if Wesker's serum works and he gets his abilities back? What if Wesker isn't able to get the serum to work- what is his back up plan? What if Chris gets too far involved with Wesker?

The brunet released a quiet noise of disgust from his throat- he was tired of thinking; All it did was get him more answerless questions and that was the last thing he needed.

Chris sat up irritably and began untangling himself from the sheet around his legs. He ignored the dull pain in his backside while sliding from the bed and was able to, slowly, get his shirt on without too much trouble. The brunet quickly began out the door and towards the kitchen, running his hands through his hair to tidy it while also struggling to straighten out his clothing.

When he finally arrived at the kitchen, all Chris could think about was his current hate for Wesker who always seemed to look presentable- unlike himself who currently looked terrible.

The automatic door opened and Chris gaped at what he saw. The table was set with two empty plates, one on either side, and silverware beside each. Wesker was sitting on the countertop, his gaze on the stove which had several pots boiling and cooking things all at once.

"Chris, I told you to meet me here in two hours. It hasn't been nearly that long," Wesker said, his eyes flashing to Chris before returning to the cooking food.

"What-" Chris stumbled on his words as he walked into the kitchen, looking at the food cooking. One pot had a nice portion of corn setting in it while another had mashed potatoes. Beside that was gravy and the oven had some mysterious meat in it which, Chris assumed, was either chicken or turkey. "What?" He asked in confusion, unable to speak any other words.

"The original concept was suppose to be a bit of a surprise, I suppose, but now that you're here- Oh what is it, Christopher?" Wesker asked as the look of utter astonishment failed to leave Chris.

"I just- You… cook?"

Wesker returned Chris's astonishment with a bit of disbelief at the question before sliding from the counter.

"I have cooked multiple times in the past week, Chris. Do you not recall?"

"Well yeah, I remember but I didn't know you actually knew how to cook. I guess I just couldn't imagine you… cooking," Chris's last word came rather slowly as if he was still trying to process the situation but Wesker turned away from him and continued speaking.

"If you had any sort of intelligence, you would see that chemistry and cooking are similar. Lest we forget, I lived alone in S.T.A.R.S and frequently cooked for myself and guests." The annoyance had returned in Wesker's voice and he was now talking as if he was speaking to a two year old.

"You had guests?"

Chris realized his questions probably weren't helping the matter but they slipped out as if he had no real control over what he said.

"I worked for a multi-million dollar company that specialized specifically in work that was being kept from the public- most of which I was head of. Of course I had guests. Rather frequently now that I think about it," Wesker muttered as he stirred at the gravy absentmindedly.

"I don't think I ever got to see where you lived, actually," Chris said, pondering the moment as he also contemplated approaching Wesker.

"You did. Though it was a rather unpleasant experience so I doubt you would remember-"

"No, wait- I do remember. I was stabbed, I'd think I would remember that, Wesker," Chris muttered before, slowly, walking up behind the blond to look curiously over his shoulder.

It was his fault- It was always his fault.

Chris had followed orders, step by step, and still somehow- the brunet had screwed up.

The case was simple. High amounts of Umbrella's unsafe medication trafficking through Raccoon City and their job was to stop it. With some recon, Brad had secured the location and given various details on what he'd seen from just looking in on the operation. According to Umbrella, large stocks of supplies had started going missing recently and most of them had been untested medication for pain management- But even now, Chris wasn't sure if he believed that.

Umbrella was a large corporation with massive amounts of power- stealing from them would not be easy.

The team got into position; Chris, Wesker, and Jill all crowded around the back door of a small abandoned house, Chris and Jill to one side with Wesker to the other. Behind them was Barry and Forest while the rest of Bravo team spread out around the house to cover all possible exits and entrances. While Jill worked at the lock on the back door, Brad was working on opening the front door with Kenneth.

Jill turned to Wesker and nodded through the darkness before kneeling out of the way.

Wesker nodded to Chris who had been assigned pointman on the mission- a position he was best at due to his sharpshooting skills. Kenneth was the pointman on the other side of the house and once they'd gotten radio confirmation of Bravo being ready, they infiltrated.

Chris barely remembered the next few moments and it was all hazy in general to the brunet; He remembered shouting, most likely not his own, and he remembered Brad being wrong. Very, very wrong.

According to the pilot, there were a maximum of five guys- when S.T.A.R.S entered, there were far too many to count. Also according to Brad, none of the men were armed- They all now had various weapons at the ready.

When the group had first infiltrated, the inhabitants of the house were nowhere to be seen. Chris searched, with Wesker close behind him, Jill somewhere nearby, and eventually Kenneth, who was accompanied by Brad, and found they'd cleared the entire floor.

And then they found the basement.

Wesker was the first to spot the door- sitting perfectly hinged and looking rather new compared to the rest of the crumbling building. He motioned to it and, before long, the entire team was staring at it with puzzled looks on their faces. They all had their handguns raised, flashlights pointed at the metallic door.

Wesker signaled Kenneth to go first, then Chris, and the rest would follow. Chris looked to the Bravo pointman before nodding. Chris watched Kenneth approach the door, handgun raised while the hand that held his flashlight grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and pulled. Quickly, both he and Chris pointed their lights down the pitch dark stairs and the beams of light showed little of what lay beyond halfway. Kenneth took a deep breath and began descending the stairs, Chris close behind him with Wesker tailing him.

As soon as the group reached the bottom of the stairs, yells began and shots rang out. Whose they were, where they were aimed, what they hit- nobody knew. All Chris remembers was Kenneth suddenly being gone and, directly after, being disarmed. Quickly, the brunet pulled out his S.T.A.R.S knife and was able to block whatever oncoming melee attack was coming at him. Darkness had surrounded all of them and the only one with any sort of light was Brad at the top of the stairs who had stopped dead when he heard all the fighting.

Chris, being unable to see his attacker, slashed in the darkness, backing up slowly as he tried forcefully to get his eyes to adjust to the shadows. Suddenly, one of his slashes hit something and his knife was knocked from his hand. His heart dropped when he heard it land somewhere at his feet and just as he bent down to retrieve it, a stabbing pain was jolted into his right thigh.

He yelled out in pain, punching the air and subsequently hitting the shadow silhouette knelt in front of him. The moments after that were a blurred haze- he vaguely recalled Wesker retrieving a flashlight and being able to take out the remainder of the men with the help of Jill who was the only one who wasn't incapacitated. Kenneth had been shot, though only in the arm, and Chris stabbed.

Wesker told Jill to take Kenneth to a hospital before hurrying to Chris to look at the wound. Chris had slid himself against a nearby wall, both hands holding his thigh protectively and he bit back groans of pain. Wesker slid beside him, flashlight raised to the wound before looking to Chris.

"Are you injured anywhere else?"

Chris shook his head quickly before eying his wound in the light. Blood had started to seep through his pants but, from the looks of it, the knife itself hadn't gone too deep into his leg.

"Is Kenneth-?" Chris began through gritted teeth as Wesker assessed the situation.

"He's fine. Focus on yourself right now," the blond muttered.

The wound itself was just below Chris's gun holster which was buckled onto his upper thigh. Wesker grabbed hold of the extra adjusting piece before yanking it tightly, causing Chris to yelp out and grab tighter at his thigh.

"I'm going to pull out the knife," Wesker warned though he didn't wait for a response before pulling the weapon straight out. Chris let out a vocal shout of pain, his head hitting the wall behind him. He cursed under his breath and Wesker quickly replaced the knife in Chris's knife pouch. "Right, now we have to get you back to my apartment."

"Your ap- Wait, why not just take me to the hospital?"

"The wound doesn't require stitches. A bit of cleaning, a bandage, a few days to heal and you'll be fine," Wesker said as he began standing. "Come on, I'll assist you to the car."

By the time Wesker was able to get Chris up the stairs, Jill and Enrico had both taken Kenneth to the hospital while the remainder of the team was awaiting orders from Wesker. Once Barry saw Chris, he immediately dove forward and began helping get the brunet into Wesker's vehicle.

"I want all of you to call in the R.P.D. They'll need to report this before we do and they might as well get the drugs back to Umbrella while they're at it. Vickers, first thing tomorrow morning, I want to see you in my office," a look of impending doom appeared on Brad's face before Wesker dismissed them and slid into the driver's seat.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him, Captain," Chris gritted out quietly, both hands holding his leg as if to comfort it with his touch. "It was my fault."

"It wasn't. His position was back up and he proved to be utterly useless. His fear caused two members to get critically injured and that will not go unpunished," Wesker said matter-of-factly, his eyes flashing from the road to Chris's leg behind his sunglasses.

"Captain, you and I both know he's good at what he was hired to do. This wasn't in his job description," Chris said quietly. "This was my fault. I got disoriented too fast and a moment of panic was enough to unarm me."

"Redfield, you care far too much," the blond sighed.

"Isn't that a good thing? To care about a team member?" Chris gritted, looking at Wesker with a mix of confusion and pain.

"In some cases, yes."

Chris didn't pursue the conversation any farther and instead, focused on the apartments that Wesker had just pulled them into. Wesker stopped at the front of a gate that led to an underground garage, rolled down his window, and punched in a code. As Wesker rolled his window back up, the gate began opening and he drove into the parking area. Wesker parked in a spot that was reserved specifically for him (it had the letters A. Wesker printed on the ground) and it just happen to be the closest to the elevator that led to the rest of the apartment complex.

Wesker parked and quickly got out, closing the door and rushing around to the other side to help Chris out. Chris was able to get out with ease, his arm around Wesker's neck for support on his right side while Wesker gripped him by the left side of his waist. They made their way to the elevator, Chris fighting off the look of embarrassment and pain as Wesker poked at the call button.

The duo waited in silence, Chris letting out a silent gasp of pain every once and a while until the elevator opened revealing a rather large, empty lift. Wesker helped him inside and leaned him against the wall as he poked the second floor out of six.

The elevator door closed and the lift jolted up into movement, causing Chris to cling to the small railing and bite back a groan of pain. Wesker put his arm around Chris as the door opened again and Chris returned to his position as they began moving slowly out.

The lift had opened to a large floor, a long hallway leading both ways past the elevator. The carpet had a royal pattern all throughout it with different sorts of colors while the walls were wallpaper white. Wesker went straight and led them to the door with blue lettering that read '14B'. The blond shoved a key into the lock and turned it with ease, kicking it open and revealing a large dark apartment. Wesker closed the door as he led them through the darkness., Chris clinging to his side, trusting that the man knew where he was going.

After a few steps, Wesker began prying Chris off of him, pushing him to sit down and the brunet found himself sitting on a rather comfortable seat- a couch perhaps?

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just take me to the hospital?" Chris asked, looking around the darkness before Wesker flipped on a light from across the room.

They were currently in the living room of the apartment. Chris was sitting on a black couch, a rather large one at that, which sat in front of a large television and between the two objects was a coffee table. A side table beside the couch had the lamp that was currently lit sitting atop it while the walls and corner bookshelf remained empty of any sort of decoration or personal pictures.

"Easier, yes. Faster, no. I'll be back. If you wish, you can turn on the television- It should be used by someone, at least," the blond muttered before vanishing into a hallway to the left of Chris.

The brunet sighed and grabbed the remote from the table, straining to make sure he didn't shift to hurt his leg. He hit the 'on' button and the television sprang to life. The brunet subconsciously decided he wanted to use the television as background noise so that he wasn't sitting in silence and left it on the channel it had turned on to, merely turning the electronic device down until he could barely hear it through the dead silence. He set the remote back on the table and watched it, realizing it was some sort of old show from the fifties- the exact type you'd assume to see in the middle of the night.

Wesker returned shortly after, a handful of supplied in his arms. He set the lot on the table and looked at Chris expectantly as the brunet looked from the small pile to the blond.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Chris asked, his hand setting on his thigh protectively.

"I won't be able to tend the wound through your pants. Either remove them or I'll cut them," Wesker stated and Chris went into serious thought about it before Wesker sighed and sat on the floor.

"Fine," Chris muttered, loosening the gunless holster before he was able to slip it off and set it beside him. He kicked off his military boots, Wesker grabbing them and putting them aside, before he stood, unstable but upright, and began unbuttoning his pants. He slipped them off, revealing blue boxers, and Wesker waited for him to sit again before looking at the wound. Dried blood stained Chris's pale skin but new blood was beginning to drip from the wound and down his leg before being stopped by a cloth that Wesker hurriedly handed to him.

"I'll have to disinfect it first," He spoke up to Chris as he grabbed the can of first aid spray and a small bunch of cotton balls.

"Great," Chris muttered as he watched Wesker shake the can and ready it over the brunette's thigh. "Just do it."

Wesker obeyed and pressed on the sprayer. It hit Chris's wound before it began bubbling and causing the brunet to let out a muffled groan, closing his eyes. Wesker sprayed more of the liquid onto the wound before covering it with the cotton balls, catching any loose blood or liquid that was deciding to drip.

"That should do it," Wesker said after a few more times to make sure it was clean. A glance up at the brunet was enough for the blond to ask, "Are you alright, Christopher?"

"M'fine," Chris gritted out. It took everything in his power to keep his leg still while Wesker worked on it and he was somehow able to keep silent yells in his head from escaping his lips. "Can you just wrap it up?"

Wesker responded with a nod and grabbed the roll of cotton. Chris stood, his entire leg shaking from the amount of pain it just endured and he held the beginning of the bandage as Wesker quickly wrapped it around. Eventually, Chris was able to slide his finger out and Wesker ended off the bandage with a bit of medical tape. Chris fell back onto the couch, his leg still shaking uncontrollably.

"You might as well stay here. I'll take you home in the morning and let you have the next few days off to heal."

"You really shouldn't be doing this, Captain. Sorry to- er- inconvenience you like this," Chris said awkwardly, his eyes avoiding Wesker's.

"If it was indeed an inconvenience, I wouldn't have offered. I'll return when I've gathered a blanket and pillow," Wesker said before grabbing the supplies from the table and vanishing into the hallway.

The following day, Chris woke to Wesker gone and a note on the coffee table that read:

'You looked comfortable, for once. I'll be back at noon with lunch, sleep as long as you like. I'll return you home when you can care for yourself.'

"You can't say that wasn't a fun few days," Chris said as he began stirring the mashed potatoes as per request of the blond.

"Indeed I can. You camped yourself in my living room for four days and inconvenienced my work greatly," Wesker stated as he emptied the gravy into a small bowl and set it on the table.

"Your work. You mean your undercover betrayal job you had going with Umbrella? Besides, you're the one who refused to take me home," Chris shot as he decided the mashed potatoes were done and turned off the burner before emptying the pot into a serving dish, placing it beside the gravy on the table.

"If I had, you would have been terribly helpless and I most likely would have ended up there caring for you anyway," Wesker replied, opening the oven and sliding out a small chicken with the help of a rag. He set the plate of chicken on the table before rushing back and closing the oven.

"I would have called Jill to come care for me if you had taken me home, Wesker. We both know that," Chris said with a quiet laugh.

"Perhaps," Wesker said with a smirk as he placed the corn in a bowl and put it beside the mashed potatoes.

Chris quickly placed all the pots into the sink before joining Wesker at the table. The brunet sat awkwardly, staring at the food as if he was afraid to touch it.

"You know, I like memories like that," Chris said quietly as Wesker stared at him from across the table, bowl of corn in hand.

"I realize this, Chris. You live far too much in the past, you know," The blond responded, setting down the bowl to cut off a few pieces of chicken.

"It's hard to live in the present when the present is this bad," Chris shot back, standing up to reach the mashed potatoes before sliding a considerable amount on his plate- He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now.

"Your current present doesn't seem as bad as you say, Christopher," Wesker spoke smugly as Chris slid him what was left of the mashed potatoes before getting up to slide both the corn and chicken over to himself.

"There's equal amount of pros and cons to this situation, Wesker," Chris said as he retook his seat.

"Oh really? Enlighten me," the blond reponded, his smirk returning as he completely ignored his food and, instead, leaned his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his fist.

"Wesker-" Chris said threateningly, his eyes narrowing at the blond.

"Alright, I'll begin," Chris sighed as he dumped a small amount of corn on his plate. "Pro- me."

"Con- you."

"I'm not simply your enemy here, Chris," Wesker said smugly, his free hand picking up his fork to poke at his food.

"Which is why you fall under both categories," Chris explained as he took off several pieces of chicken and poured gravy on the potatoes.

"Pro-"

"No. No more, Wesker," Chris said quickly. "Talk about anything else."

"Alright," Wesker smirked and set down his fork, looking at Chris mischievously before asking, "What do you plan on doing to me later? I'm assuming you haven't forgotten that you owe me for last night."

Chris didn't know if he wanted to laugh or run, even though he probably couldn't if he tried.
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Shattered Memories