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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
- 5
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.:Chapter 5:.

Deal

"You are wrong."

Wesker voice spread through the silence thickly and Chris felt himself shift uncomfortably. The two were back in the jeep after a long morning of traveling out of the mine. There hadn't been a single word spoken since the night before, after Chris replied to Wesker's question. Wesker had merely stood up, turned away, and returned to his place on the shore of the lake.

"About?" Chris looked at the blond carefully, the high noon sun shadowing his facial features yet somehow taking away the ominous aura about him.

"The correct answer-" Wesker began, ignoring Chris's confusion, "-is grey."

Chris let out a scoff that somehow turned into an outright laugh. Repositioning himself in the passenger seat, he crossed his arms, shaking his head. Wesker really did seem to have lost his mind. Not only was the question random but Chris was sure he was right- He would never forget his ex-Captain's real eye color. He remembered it so clearly- Chris just simply wasn't wrong.

"No they aren't-" Chris stopped himself. "-I mean they weren't. They were green," Chris muttered, his gaze returning to the window where they were passing through small, empty villages.

"Are you really that certain, Chris?" Wesker chuckled darkly after speaking, a smirk apparent on his lips while they turned into another abandoned town.

"Yes. They were more green than blue and there was too much color to be grey," Chris continued to mumble as he tried to explain the eyes that had haunted him for almost a decade. "So yeah, I'm sure they weren't grey."

Wesker and Chris both remained silent in the hours following the discussion and it wasn't until Wesker stopped the car in a large village that Chris even realized his curiosity of where they were heading now. He sat up from his position against the window and looked around at the surroundings before glancing at Wesker.

"The next target should be somewhere in this village, according to the documents I received from the mansion," Wesker spoke, pulling the keys from the ignition and pocketing them.

"Exactly how many more are there?" Chris asked as Wesker opened the driver's side door and stepped out.

"Very few," Wesker closed the door as Chris followed, sliding out of the car and rounding it while Wesker retrieved the metallic briefcase.

In the setting sunlight, Chris caught a glimpse of Wesker's paled skin and the smallest hint of an unbalanced step. Chris watched from the front of the car as Wesker removed his glasses and looked around the large village. They were standing in the entrance of a road that lead directly to the center. There were open wooden shacks aligning the road, one after another, all looking empty. Towards the middle, a dead fire, no smoke or existing flame to show any sort of recent ignition. The road continued past the center of the village, turning a corner to other parts that Chris was unable to see from where he stood.

"Is it really wise to be doing this at night?" Chris asked, looking to the sunset that was beginning to cast an orange glow upon everything the light touched.

"Perhaps not for you, Christopher," Wesker shot, his eyes flashing the cat-like red that Chris despised before turning and beginning down the dirt road. Chris began after Wesker, keeping several feet away from him as he followed, his ears listening for any movement besides their own.

By the time they arrived at the first set of huts, the sun had gone and night was now upon them. Chris looked up at the night sky and found himself entranced with the gleaming full moon that gave aplenty amounts of light. The stars danced and twinkled for miles upon miles on every side of him and Chris found himself wondering how many nights he would be allowed to see like this. Exactly how long was Wesker going to keep him alive for? Would he ever see Jill or Sheva again?

"The package should be hidden in one of these houses. Come, Chris," Wesker called behind him before walking up a small set of stairs and into the first large hut on the left of the road. Chris obeyed, a tingling sensation of annoyance bubbling in the pit of his stomach, and also went up the set of stairs, the wood creaking under his weight each step he took.

Once on the wooden flooring, he was able to fully see the inside of the hut with help from the glow of the moon and the cracks in the wooden ceiling. Unlike the ones he and Sheva had come across, there were dividers, separating rooms. Two divided rooms were to their left while a small cooking area was in the middle of the large circular area. To the right was a single window and besides several blankets in the divided rooms, the hut was empty.

As the two continued silently out of the hut and into the one beside it, Chris became caught in a thought that he had avoided for the whole day- Why had Wesker asked him about his eye color? What was the importance of that? Was it a test of his memory? As far as Wesker knew, Chris remembered everything before the 'accident' which made the thought completely insensible. Chris found himself wondering if Wesker had expected a different answer than the one Chris gave.

For all Chris knew, Wesker had expected him to stupidly reply 'red' rather than 'green' but Chris knew Wesker better than to expect that. Chris saw the human in people and, even at off times, Wesker fell under the category of 'human'. Over and over, the brunet tried telling himself Wesker was inhuman- a monster- but that wasn't what he saw when he looked at the man. Even with the glowing cat eyes, the vast amount of power he held, and the countless times he had tried to kill him, Chris still saw his old Captain behind Wesker's cold and lifeless eyes.

In fact, when Wesker removed his sunglasses and looked at Chris merely minutes beforehand, Chris hadn't seen a monster. Instead, he saw a man desperate to keep the monster inside him tame but that didn't take away from what Chris had to do or what he felt towards the man. Of course, anger and hatred still brewed within Chris but there was surely a difference between what he felt for the man and what he felt when he looked at him.

"This one is empty as well," Wesker kicked over an empty pot and left the hut, Chris behind him.

"It's only the second one, there's at least three dozen in the village," Chris muttered, following him into the third hut.

"Time is not on our side, Christopher," Wesker growled from one of the divided rooms while Chris stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Chris really was getting tired of hearing that but without knowledge of the situation behind their lack of time, Chris grew quiet of the subject.

"Why'd you ask?" Chris asked quickly as Wesker emerged from one of the divisions and began testing some of the floorboards with his foot as he did with the other huts. Wesker stopped once the question processed and seemed rather surprised by the question, to Chris's shock.

"Is now really the opportune moment for questions, Chris?" Wesker asked, turning on his heel and striding across the hut to check a few piles of closed baskets in the corner.

"There never is a good time, Wesker," Chris paused a moment to let Wesker pass by him and both emerged from the hut, "I never knew you to dodge a question."

Wesker didn't respond but continued into the next hut, Chris behind him.

"What answer were you expecting?" Chris asked, leaning against the wall beside the doorway as Wesker began doing another search.

"Certainly not the one given," Wesker spoke from behind one of three divided rooms.

"Then what did you expect?"

"Chris, I'm beginning to lose my temper," Wesker warned, crossing into the second divided room. Chris could vaguely hear the sound of material being shaken and thrown along with a loud crash of a clay pot.

"If I help you, will you answer me?"

Chris didn't know it was he who said it until the words hung in the air. Full regret took over and he quickly began trying to think of a way to take them back if Wesker took the deal. Was the brunet really that desperate for answers?

Wesker emerged slowly from one of the divided rooms, his glowing eyes on Chris who had pushed off of the wall and was now standing awkwardly, his gaze down. Chris swallowed before looking up at Wesker and taking a shaky breath.

"Christopher, I will give you only one chance to take that back. Does your want for the answer outweigh your disdain for helping me?"

Chris knew in every fiber of his being that Wesker would most likely give a false answer or even no answer at all. Chris knewthat it went against everything he'd fought for the past decade to help Wesker but no matter how he looked at it- Chris was going to give the same answer.

"I'll help you if you answer me- I'm sure."

Chris swallowed again as the corner of Wesker's lips twitched into a smirk but he remained still and determined despite his badgering mind. Wesker took several steps towards the doorway, looked at the countless huts all lined up besides one another then looked down to the watch around his wrist. His gaze flashed to the briefcase in his hand and the sunglasses that were also sharing a fist and he inhaled, looking at Chris who was now beside him.

"Alright then. Assist me in finding the bag and you will have your answers. Don't miss anything and keep in mind that time is quite an issue," Wesker instructed. Chris nodded and began out the door but Wesker stopped him by setting his free hand on his left shoulder.

"Something else?" Chris asked after a long moment of Wesker being silent.

"What does it matter to you what my reasoning was for asking the question?"

"Didn't you say we're limited on time?" Chris asked, fighting off the smirk that was pushing to pass his serious expression.

Without speaking, Wesker released Chris's shoulder and, with one last fleeting look at Wesker's glowing eyes, Chris began down the small set of stairs. He crossed the dirt road and backtracked slightly to the first hut on the right side of the road.

"I must be insane," Chris muttered under his breath as he climbed the small set of stairs and entered the minute house.

Squinting through the dark, Chris began searching by stepping on certain boards, testing them with his foot to see if they moved at all. When he was sure there was no hidden compartments, he began going through some empty pots and foot baskets. He shook out the layered blankets in the only divided room, tested the floor again, and left when he was sure he hadn't missed anything.

He vaguely caught Wesker's shadow from across the road entering another hut, his eyes still glowing faintly from what Chris could see and continued into the following huts. One after another, each came up empty apart from various trinkets and empty pots. Chris was on his seventh house, Wesker on his ninth, by the time a half an hour passed and Chris could clearly hear Wesker getting more and more frustrated as each hut came up empty.

When Chris came to his eighth house and the road began turning, he leaned to the left slightly, looking past the hut he was in front of and through the moonlit darkness to a much larger hut. He eyed it carefully before walking towards it, his gaze drifting to several huts ahead of him on the opposite side to where Wesker and the sound of baskets breaking was. Chris hurried down the street and gave the two-story hut a quick once over before rushing inside.

Due to the higher ceiling, most of the light was blocked out and generally only reached the second floor. A few beams of light joined with his arms outstretched in front of him to make sure he didn't run into anything was enough to guide him through the darkness of the first floor. Several minutes of searching through empty pots got him nowhere and he was soon feeling around for a way onto the second floor.

A latter that was attached to an opening in the ceiling was soon found near the center of the room and Chris immediately began, blindly, climbing up it. Each step creaked painfully under his weight and the worry of falling onto his already bruised back crossed over his mind just before reaching the top. He crawled through the small hole and into the visible moonlight that lit up the room through the open window. He stood up and looked around, seeing nothing but a large room with a few pots in the corner. It wasn't until he saw the second latter that, apparently, went to a third floor that he got somewhat excited.

He crossed the room, careful not to step in any open holes that he couldn't see and looked up to where the latter led to. It was a small storage space, far from large enough to crawl around, that was only about a foot from the ceiling. From his position, he saw a single closed box and felt another rush of excitement as he began climbing the latter.

Chris got to the top, his head touching a long wooden board that was most likely supporting most of the ceiling. His eyes squinted through the darkness at the box on the landing directly in front of him and, using his right hand while his left kept him steady on the latter, he was able to get the box open. He reached inside and grasped onto a small velvety bag before taking it out and looking at it in his palm.

Chris had found it.

Quickly, he rushed down the latter beneath him and across the second floor, finding the latter down to the first floor with ease. Rushing down that latter as well, he bolted through the darkness and jogged back up the street to where he heard Wesker destroying more items within one of the nearby huts. It took a long moment for Chris to realize the oddity behind his rush to get the package to Wesker but immediately ignored the thought as he called to the blond.

"Hey, Wesker," Chris said from the foot of the small stairs, his eyes on the shadow form that was Wesker. He turned and Chris momentarily stared- Wesker's eyes were still glowing but very, very faintly. In fact, if it hadn't been so dark in that hut specifically, it would have been difficult to tell they were glowing at all. "I-I found what you were looking for," Chris muttered, holding up the bag.

Wesker began exiting the hut, his face coming into view of the moonlight, showing Chris what he had been missing the previous hour that the two had spent searching. Wesker's face was pale and practically glowing in the moonlight and there was an obvious fatigued aura about him. He looked tired- exhausted, even, and Chris couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in concern.

"Good, Chris," Wesker held out his gloved hand to Chris and the brunet obeyed, dropping the small bag into his palm.

"I still expect an answer," Chris said as he watched Wesker bend down, open the briefcase, and set the bag within it. Without a response, Wesker closed the briefcase and stood up straight, looking at Chris wearily. "Maybe we should stay here tonight," Chris suggested, wondering how Wesker would be able to drive in the state that he was.

"Nonsense, our time-"

"Have you seen yourself? You look like you're about to pass out and you expect to drive like that?"

Wesker replaced his sunglasses over his eyes and began up the dirt road, back to the jeep, without another word. Chris huffed and rushed after him, his hands balled in tight fists at his sides.

Chris couldn't quite understand why Wesker looked so frail. The man was Albert Wesker, self proclaimed God with inhuman powers of strength and stamina- it didn't make any sense. It had only been, at most, an hour since Chris had actually seen Wesker. How could the man lose all of his strength in such a short period of time?

The two reached the jeep but neither got inside. Wesker leaned against the hood while Chris lingered around the passenger side door, watching the other man intently. Wesker had both hands on the hood, his shoulders were hunched and his head was hanging slightly. Chris eyed the briefcase at Wesker's feet but his gaze returned to Wesker once he spoke-

"Those injections are weakening you," Chris stated just before Wesker began chuckling, looking up at Chris from his hunched position.

"You're wrong again, Chris," Wesker didn't bother elaborating before picking up the briefcase and standing up straight.

The two got back into the car, Wesker putting his collections of injections in the backseat as per usual, but the two just sat there. Neither moved, Wesker didn't start the car and Chris couldn't seem to find his voice. For a long moment, Chris found himself staring at the reflection of the moon on the hood of the car before looking through the window to see the real thing.

"Are you not going to ask what you wanted to know?" Wesker asked, pulling the keys from his pocket but not sticking them into the ignition.

"I didn't think right now was a good time," Chris replied, his head rolling onto the head rest, putting the moon out of sight.

"Now would be a good time as any, Chris," Wesker said with a visible shrug.

"Alright," Chris pulled his head from the head rest of the passenger seat and looked at Wesker, "Why did you ask me what your eye color was?"

"It was a test-"

"Not everything is a test with you, Wesker. You've had the past hour to come up with some excuse and I'd bet that's it. What's the real reason?" Chris retorted, cutting Wesker off almost immediately.

"You want my answer and I'm giving it to you," Wesker sounded exasperatedly tired from Chris's perspective and he would have guessed his condition, whatever it was, was growing worse. "I was simply curious of your answer. The test was merely a way to give me a minimal glimpse into what you saw when you looked at me."

"When I replied, you were surprised. Did you expect something else?"

"This isn't worth discussing further, Chris. Time is of the essence and the deal was clear, I've held up my end of the bargain," Wesker said sternly, the keys going into the ignition. "One last place on the list- we are making excellent time." Chris remained silent as Wesker drove through the village and changed direction completely.

Wesker drove for hours and Chris, from time to time, couldn't help but chance glances at the man. Each glance seemed to make Wesker steadily worsen and even as Chris began tiring, he couldn't help wonder what was wrong with him. His mind process, after hours upon hours of dwelling on it, began expanding and it steadily became out of control. His mind was soon accusing him of pondering it much too long and he began into questioning why he cared. Wesker losing his power, or strength at least, should have been a good thing- right?

So then, why was Chris worried?

There was a long few minutes where he tried convincing himself that he was only worried because if something did happen to Wesker, he would be in quite a bit of trouble. He didn't know where in Africa they were, he didn't have any weapons or means of survival, and he had no communication to the only two people he would guess to be looking for him. Once he, however, came up with several ideas on how he would possibly survive and get out of the situation and still found himself worried about Wesker, the idea of his own personal safety behind his reason immediately faltered. It wasn't until he became so tired, he began spacing out by staring at the constant moving environment that his mind actually settled down.

Chris was rudely awoken, not realizing he'd fallen asleep, when Wesker drove over a large bump that startled and shook him from his sleep. He sat up from his position against the seat and looked around curiously. Night was breaking into early, early morning and they seemed to be headed towards a rather large watering hole. There was, surprisingly, not many exotic animals surrounding it and any normal animals nearby quickly vanished at the sight of the car. They still seemed to be in the savannah area, as there were plains of dirt for miles around, but they were, unmistakably, going straight for the pond.

Taking a quick glance towards Wesker, Chris was surprised to see obvious beads of sweat dropping from Wesker's brow. His jaw was tightened, as if he knew Chris was glancing at him from the corner of his eye, and he seemed, overall, lacking energy. Frowning, Chris turned away as Wesker stopped the car, turned it off, and got out.

"Chris, refill the gas tank," Wesker commanded, leaving the keys in the car before slipping out and getting into the backseat.

"Where-"

"In the back," Wesker muttered from the backseat.

Chris sighed and did as he was told- getting out of the car and stretching before moving around to the back and opening the trunk part of the jeep. The back was filled with bags of food, countless jugs of water, and several gasoline canisters of gas. Chris grabbed one and pulled it out before rounding the car to the driver's side where the gas tank sat between the back door and the back of the car.

He flipped open the lid to the gas tank, removed the lid from the hose on the gas canister, and matched the nozzle with the tank before tipping it. As the gas poured in, Chris watched through the back window, Wesker injecting himself with PG67A/W. He threw the syringe aside, picked up the opposite serum, and injected it as well. Chris watched intently as Wesker's head leaned back against the backseat head rest and sighed as he discarded the second syringe.

Pulling his attention from the troubled blond, Chris pulled the container away from the gas tank and replaced the lid over the tank before doing the same on the canister. He, again, rounded the car and set the half filled can back in it's place before shutting the back and returning to the passenger seat. Chris felt the need to say something but had major contradicting feelings about the thought.

"If it isn't the serum then what is it?" Chris asked, looking to the rear-view mirror where he got a perfect reflection of Wesker, still sitting in the backseat.

Wesker still looked tired and the question seemed to just exasperate him. Wesker sat up straight with minor trouble as he made himself comfortable in the seat. Chris took this as a sign that perhaps Wesker was taking a well needed break but he felt the man was a bit too stubborn for that.

"It was you- you and that Alomar girl," Wesker hissed, his sleeve going across his forehead.

"What are you-"

"I know you remember it, Chris. I heard you shouting in the hallway at the estate."

Chris had to dig into his memory to remember what had happened. It only took a split second for it all to come piling onto him, being on the floor, writhing in agony, and the quick memory of him injecting Wesker with PG67A/W.

The needle was sticking from the man's chest as he stumbled backwards several steps. Chris could hear him groan as he stumbled forward half a step, his hand on the syringe, and he fell to one knee. He gripped the syringe, growled through a tightly clenched jaw, and pulled the syringe from his chest, a trail of blood flying after it as it was thrown aside.

"Did it work?" Sheva asked from beside Chris.

"I think so…" Chris spoke apprehensively, watching the man struggle.

Wesker limped into a standing position and then progressed towards the two slowly. Mid step, he dropped to both knees, his head in his hands as he yelled out in agony. Agony felt too loose of a word for Chris to use, he had never heard Wesker yell like that- like he was in pure anguish. His hands descended from the sides of his head, pulling off his glasses to reveal fire red cat eyes- Chris had rarely seen them that bright.

Slamming the sunglasses beside him, he growled and stood up.

"This isn't over, Chris!" He growled threateningly, his eyes flashing viciously towards both of them before turning quickly and running off, jumping from ground to an area that was separated rather far away, landing on a box only to jump to somewhere Chris couldn't see.

"Sheva, he's getting away, hurry!"

Chris yelled out in pain, his entire torso pressed against his thighs as he went into a fetal position in the passenger seat. His eyes burned with tears as he swore, wholeheartedly, that his head was going to split open. His temples were throbbing and his entire forehead was sweating through the agony. His hands were clawing at the back of his head, pulling his messy hair violently.

"You aren't remembering it all. There's more," Wesker's voice said from somewhere behind him.

It was like Wesker's voice sent a trigger through his mind and, once again, Chris was being pushed into a memory.

Chris and Sheva were now on a jet plane, though to where, Chris was unsure. The two had theirs guns at the ready as they walked through the storage area, looking around for any signs of Wesker.

"It seems I may have underestimated you, Chris," Wesker's voice rang out harshly through the intercom system- or so Chris thought until he saw the man hunched over across the room from them.

"Save it, Wesker. There's no one left to help you now!" Chris yelled at the hunched figure.

"I don't need anyone else," Wesker growled before slamming his fist into the metallic wall beside him. He stood up, using the wall for support before speaking again, "I have, Uroboros! In less than five minutes we'll reach the optimal altitude for missile deployment," Chris and Sheva raised their guns, "Uroboros will be released into the atmosphere ensuring complete global saturation."

With one last breath, Wesker bolted forward towards the two. Chris and Sheva had just enough time to avoid the attack by separating before Wesker went directly to Chris. Wesker was able to move enough for Sheva to not have a direct hit while keeping Chris's gun at bay before kicking him aside. Wesker did a sharp turn, pulled out a magnum, and began firing at Sheva who bolted behind a pole.

"Your feeble attempts only delay the inevitable."

Chris recovered and was in mid attempt of grabbing his gun and aiming when Wesker advanced toward him, still shooting at Sheva and somehow dodging every shot Chris fired at him.

"The entire world will be infected," Wesker spoke as he pulled out a hidden gun just as he stopped in front of Chris before pointing it straight at Chris's forehead. The two sat there for a long moment, Chris still on the floor and Wesker towering over him just before he spoke, "A new Genesis is at hand and I will be the creator."

Chris saw it, Sheva running at Wesker with her knife drawn. When she slashed, Wesker acrobatically avoided it, jumping into the air and going into a full body twist before landing on the ceiling. He had just enough time to simply aim at Chris before Chris took the shot first, knocking one gun from his hand. Wesker dropped down and his legs wrapped around Chris's shoulders, rather awkwardly, while he found stabilization from the ground with his hands. He was able to knock Chris over slightly, trip him, and kick him, quite literally, across the room.

Sheva came in, swinging her knife and was able to stick it into Wesker's arm. Instead of reacting to it, Wesker simply hit her with the end of the knife and grabbed her by the neck with his knife-less arm. She swung her legs up and propelled both of them down, rolling and getting out of his grasp.

"I've had enough of your bullshit!"

While Wesker was attempting to recover from the roll, he was taken by surprise when Chris came up behind him and stabbed more of the PG67A/W into his neck. Yelling out, he pulled away from Chris's grasp and stumbled forward, dropping to both knees.

"You're just one of Umbrella's leftovers," Chris said, just before an automated voice began announcing the missile deployment.

"You know what we have to do," Sheva said attentively, eyeing the over-ride lever across the room.

"Alright, I'm going for the over-ride lever. Cover me!"

Wesker watched, pain sweeping across his face, as Chris turned and began running for the lever. Wesker began to run and Sheva stopped and aimed before shooting. Wesker jumped into the air, hopping from one wall to another, dodging each bullet as he made his way to Chris. Reaching the lever, Chris pulled it just in time for Wesker to miss, digging his fist into the wall for a second time as Chris ducked.

"You'll pay for that!"

Chris jolted awake, his body shaking violently as he tried sitting up from his laying position. He looked around cautiously and saw Wesker in an armchair beside the bed he was laying on. The room itself seemed fancy but new and attended to. The wallpaper was a royal red along with the curtains on the window, the bedding, and the carpet. There was a desk beside the bed Chris was laying on and above it was the window that showed a stream of sunlight. A closet with a full mirror was displayed across from the bed and the door was to Chris's right, beside which sat Wesker.

A stinging headache erupted the second his eyes split open and his temples felt on fire. He waited a long, long moment for the agony to subside and, through shaky breaths, he was able to ask-

"What-"

"You became unconscious. Perhaps it was too soon for you to remember-"

"The memory broke off. There was more after it, I can feel it, and everything feels so blocked still," Chris muttered, his gaze falling on his reflection in the mirror across from the bed. He was still holding a hand to his temple from when he woke up but the pain itself was subsiding as silent minutes ticked by.

After he felt comfortable enough to remove his hand, Chris looked to Wesker and frowned. The first memory seemed to stick with him more than the second. The agony that was Wesker's cries of pain- they repeated over and over in Chris's head and he visibly shivered as Wesker looked back.

"It was the over-dose. That's what's doing this to you?"

"You don't even understand what's happening, Christopher," Wesker growled, his hands visibly gripping the armrest maliciously.

"I-Is it killing you?" Chris asked apprehensively. He was treading onto very dangerous ground and honestly found himself wondering if he would be alive much longer.

"No- It's much worse than death," Wesker gave a fatigued chuckle, shaking his head.

"Then-"

"Simply, I'm losing my superhuman abilities."
- 5
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- 7
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Shattered Memories