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Rare Side Effects May Include the Following:	By : maiafay376 Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 39551 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or characters therein. I do not profit from this story. Original characters and plaga hierarchy are mine.

Chapter List
- 8
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-Chapter 9: Red-eyed Monster-
Leon...Leon?
A voice penetrated the silence. At first he thought the voice was his mother, but no, she was dead. She had died from cancer two years after his father's murder. Ashley? No, she was dead too, rotting on the hallway floor somewhere. Ada? No, the tone was wrong. Besides, the way things were going she was probably dead like the others. Who then? Who would be calling him now? No one was left.
Leon opened his eyes to darkness. Confusion washed over him, the ache in his back, his stiff limbs. He blinked, and the gloom refused to brighten. His breathing went erratic. He groped around him, his eyes as wide as he could open them. There, a sliver of light, pale yellow. A window? A door? He stumbled toward it, the floor freezing beneath his bare feet. He felt for a handle. None. Walls, no knob. Or maybe Saddler had removed it. His wings had no luck either. He nicked himself more than once when he raked the blades over the surface, slicing grooves, but that little line of light never got wider. He hugged himself against the chill. Naked, but that was no surprise. Indigo had a strict dress code: skin and more skin. He doubt he would see clothing for a very long time.
Wait. He had been laying on something soft. If anything he could use it for extra heat. He groped his way back until his foot bumped against what felt like a blanket. A smell lingered on the material, something familiar. He held it his nose. Sour, musty, dried blood, and the barest hint of spice. Saddler's robe.
He thrust it away with a furious cry. The robe smacked the wall and crumpled to the floor along with him, but it didn't begin weeping as he did, it didn't curl into a ball, shaking with the force of harsh sobs. No making this right. No getting out of it. He was really, truly, fucked.
Leon? Can you hear me?
Who the hell was that? Voices babbling again? He told them to shut up, let him wallow for a bit. He snuffed against his knee, and wiped his nose across it. Not like anyone could see anyway. The walls settled, little creaking and clanking. No one went past his room. The sliver of light never faltered. The voice didn't call again.
He sighed and lifted his face. Now he felt flushed, sweat dripping in trickled streams down his neck and back. That robe could stay in the corner, and crying wasn't going to do anything but make Saddler want to cuddle when he came back. Snuggle against his poor baby Indigo. Brand new and old at the same time. One messed up paradox, the Sovereign and the Indigo. In the memories, their entire race had been human in appearance and manner. It disturbed him. Why hadn't they been green or something? Four heads? It would have been easier to deal with.
Then Medeya. Her madness.
And Jase, he made the plaga. He ran away in the end, still running now. Little bastard. Little weaselly shit–
Keep thinking, Leon. I'm close to finding you.
"What?" He shot up, stumbled into the wall.
I said keep thinking. I'm almost there.
Who the fuck was that? Sounded female, and a little familiar, but he couldn't place the voice. He frowned at the darkness as if it was playing tricks on him. This voice wasn't in his head, but it came from...somewhere. He reached out his hand, searching. Another wall bumped his fingers. He leaned his cheek on the surface, letting the chill sink in. Heat soothed by dampness. Steam should be rising from his face. And speaking of steam, he would give anything for a shower. Rinse away the nasty gunk between his–
Found you!
Girlish glee in that voice. Relief also. He found himself smiling before he realized he had no idea who this was, or how she had "found him". Curiosity became suspicion, then suspicion became dread when something began emerging from the other side of the room.
A blue haze skimmed along the right wall, cast Saddler's tattered robe in a cool shade of violet. A disembodied hand appeared, golden, wisps of its light evaporating into the air. A hazy arm, a dainty shoulder, then a girl slipped out of the wall like a nymph from water.
Her aura streamed from her, a misty waterfall flowing upward. Slim, with boyish hips, her long hair billowing around her as if she walked underwater. Her small breasts stayed blurred, as if her aura censored her anatomy. Same for her groin. No trace of blue within her golden light. Pure soul. How was that possible unless she was dead?
"Because I'm soul walking, Leon. Or, astral projecting. I like the former, personally. Sounds poetic." She smiled, gold glittering in her eyes. It took him a moment to realize she answered a question he had thought, not asked.
"Who the hell are you?"
Her aura wobbled with dismay. Her smile fell. "Oh. But I thought –" she stammered, taken aback. "You...don't recognize me? But I haven't changed that much. Not really." She floated closer, hesitant. He backed away, concentrating on her features. Small oval face, round eyes. Pert nose. She reminded him of Ashley, but more delicate, almost pixie-like. Her hair could have been any shade –
"It's blond," she whispered. "The last you saw me, I wore a headband. Blue. I still have her jacket."
"Whose jacket? What are you –" His thoughts stopped. Her last words flashed like red blinking lights. Claire Redfield spoke in his head, her gentle voice far away, inside a tiny room where she had comforted a young blond girl once upon a time in an underground lab.
Keep it. It's yours now, for good luck.
"Sherry?"
"Yeah, surprise," she said.
In the last ten years, all he had wanted was peace of mind. After the government had bullied him into working for them, they had managed to lose his only motivation to a third party. He had given them hell for their incompetence. Where was Sherry? What had Wesker done with her? In an old fantasy of his, he always rehearsed what he would say to her if he found her again. The first thing he would do once he could touch her.
By reflex, his body moved to embrace her, but his feet stayed planted. His mind couldn't wrap itself around the magnitude. Sherry Birken. Alive. Standing in front of him, smiling at him –
Butt naked.
Shit. So was he.
A teasing chuckle came from the golden girl. "And I appreciate the view. Totally."
He snatched Saddler's robe and covered himself. Guess there was a use for it after all. "I can't believe – Sherry. How are you here? Where's your body? You're all...glowy. I don't understand."
"I told you. Soul walking. And I think it's amazing how you see me."
"You see how I see you?
"Yes."
"This is crazy. Do you realize how long I've looked for you? Claire and I...broke up because of my obsession. The government deal was my fault. What happened to you was my fault. I'm so sorry. I tried to find you. I kept searching." He emphasized this with a shake of Saddler's robe. "I never gave up. I can't believe that you're–"
Unable to continue, he stood there and tried to pull himself together. Saddler's robe bunched in his hands, the smelly material twisting in his grip. In the small room, there wasn't much distance between them. Her light cast all four walls in gold. He could see the door now, the jagged etchings from his wings. "Wait," he said. "How do I know you're Sherry? I mean, I've been seeing a whole bunch of stuff that doesn't make sense lately. I visited an alien planet, took a ride through memories that didn't belong to me. How do I know you're real? You could be a hallucination, or some telepathic spy trying to trick me."
"It's me. Sherry." She proved her existence by thumping her blurry chest. Gold dust glittered from the impact. "Why would I pretend? What would be the point? I've missed you, Leon. You don't know how much. I even have poems written to you, stupid love notes and songs. I thought of you all the time. And her. Every night. Every day. Even when I couldn't barely remember my name. His experiments were awful, each one worse than the last. He made it bad on purpose. Because of my father. To punish me. "
His protective instincts surged at her tone, her slumped shoulders, her small frame shivering. A poor, tortured pixie. "Who? Wesker? What did he do to you? Tell me!"
At the mention of Wesker's name, she straightened, her aura cooling. Tarnished gold. "I can't. Not safe yet. Won't be until – " She shook her head as if freeing her hair from cobwebs, and pointed to the ceiling. "Never mind. No time. Wesker's here, topside, confronting Saddler –"
The memory of Saddler's kiss, his loving caress before the door shut and darkness took him. Don't worry, child. Rest. I shall see to our...visitors.
"Shit. How long has he been here? How long have they been fighting?"
"They aren't fighting, they're 'negotiating'. And not long. Wesker sent me searching for you as soon as his transport landed. Now I have to report back. Take my hand."
"I'd rather not. I have no desire to see Wesker. Or Saddler. And I'm not quite dressed for the occasion, if you haven't noticed."
"Aren't you a bit curious? Don't you want to see? This is one of the conditions I have to keep. He almost didn't let me come. I had to beg, promise things. I would tell you more, but I can't until you're free."
"And how are you going to free me?"
"Take my hands and find out."
"How? You're all aura."
A soft giggle, the pixie vibrant again. "Come on, try."
He reached out, and to his surprise, had no problem grasping her hands in his. "You're so warm," he said.
A gentle squeeze. "So are you."
"Now what?"
"We go back the way I came. Close your eyes."
He did as she asked. Seemed silly to argue with a mind-reader. The G-virus must have given her that ability, or maybe the DEVIL vaccine itself. Sherry. Here. It still seemed unreal. "I don't know what you plan to do. I can't do this soul walk thing. I don't know how."
"Clear your mind, Leon. Trust me. Just float."
Float? He did feel lightheaded, his hands in her hands, his senses fading like a row of candles puffing out one by one. It didn't frighten him. It felt...okay. Normal.
Because I don't want you to be afraid. If you're scared, this won't work. I'm piggybacking on Saddler's bond link with you. He doesn't know. Thinks you're asleep. I keep showing him the same image over and over. Like a video loop.
How did you learn to do this?
Practice...and drugs. My body's doped up on neural simulators, synaptic augmenters. They're necessary for long distance walks. When I return to me I'll be in recovery for days.
Where's your body? On the transport?
No, Oasis.
Oasis?
Wesker's primary research facility. Based in the Arctic. There's others. Not sure how many. He's using them to recruit, to...select. Saddler's a threat, but Wesker wants the impossible.
What does he want?
To be a god.
A great weight pushed against him, through him. Time and space expanded, then compressed, the force of it shattering his bones and flesh. No pain. Freedom. Abeyance, soothing weightlessness. His eyes flew open and the full moon gazed back. The night sky winked with stars. Original constellations of good old Earth. Scorpio, Andromeda, Pieces. A moment later, Sherry's golden head blocked the view.
"Leon, are you alright?"
"I think I just swallowed my ass."
She laughed, tugging him up and against her. His feet hovered above the ground, his toes an outline, the rest of him a shimmering thing. Soul walking, the newest craze. He tried to call his wings, but they wouldn't come. He didn't mind. Better for his soul to be untainted by alien appendages. Pure.
"You're so pretty. All purple."
She wasn't kidding. Unrestrained by his skin, and the color of dark grapes, his aura swirled around him like a foggy haze at twilight. What bothered him was the lack of a certain color, the color Sherry had in abundance. Another reminder of what he had become. Guess he wasn't so pure after all.
"Don't think like that. You're still you. Listen, can you hear them? We're close."
Outside, familiar cranes, sloppy piles of equipment, and lazy windmills told him where Sherry had brought him. Didn't have to watch his step here: no body, no worries. The temperature had plummeted during the night, but he could not feel it. His clue came as frost twinkling on the ends of the steel pylons. On one side of the platform, Saddler's former cage lay in ruins. Memories hung over the crow's nest of beams, beckoning him to come closer, to remember the confusion and horror of when his mind had not been his mind.
"No, what's done is done. This way, Leon." Her voice, full of compassion. It made his aura ripple in gratitude. But then he saw where she wanted to lead him. He shrank back.
"He'll see me."
"He won't. I'm looping you, remember? You're cut off from the bond as long as I can control the link, and as long as Wesker keeps distracting him. See, Wesker's good for something at least." Sherry took his hand, her light throbbing to the beat of her distant heart. Her body, thousands of miles away and yet, so close. He followed, reluctant as a boy walking toward his punishment.
They came to a large open space overlooking the ocean, the people gathered there reenacting a scene straight out of an old western. Two fronts, one led by Saddler, clad now in fresh robes, human face intact and sneering. Behind him, scores of ganado waited for his command to attack with wild eyes and matching grimaces. Moonlight did not touch their guns, or glint off their sparking taser rods. Spotlights illuminated the scene in garish white.
His eyes flew to the other side, eager to pick out who the Anti-Umbrella Group, and others like it, had been hunting down for the last ten years.
Albert Wesker.
Wesker's aura shocked the hell out of him. He had been expecting the same blue/gold combination, maybe a few odd colors here and there to reflect the virus. Chris Redfield had explained the events of Antarctica in vivid detail, from arrival to how he and Claire had escaped. Since then, Wesker had always been a curiosity to him, a man who betrayed his friends, his employer, and even his humanity. Chris said the unknown virus Wesker had used to resurrect at the Arklay Mansion had given him super-human abilities.
It had given him something all right. His aura was...on fire.
While Saddler's snakes stood at attention, their hollow eyes fixed on Wesker and his battalion of military, Wesker's aura raged like bonfire fed with rocket fuel. Amber at its core, ribbons of orange-red flames tapering into the sky, to all sides of him – a sentient inferno in constant motion, driven to search for something it never found. Closer inspection revealed hints of blues, purples, and greens hidden among the flames– radiant butterflies stuck within the amber center. He was struck by the unexpected beauty of it, and thankful he wasn't there in the flesh to feel the hunger Wesker's aura would have roused.
"I'm not normally this generous, Saddler. Think before you refuse." Wesker said. The spotlights bleached his blond hair to platinum, the black of his clothing a harsh contrast.
"I'm not normally this tolerate of intruders. Think before you demand anything." Saddler gripped his staff; the big eye narrowed to a slit, tentacles jerking. The ganado shifted like restless horses.
Wesker looked bored, but his aura flickered everywhere. Not nervous, but grasping, analyzing. Options. Decisions. What could he do to sway his enemy? What could he say to convince, to deceive?
Sherry watched him watch Wesker, a faint smile on her face.
"I forgot. You see what I see."
"Yes, and thank you. I'm finding it quite valuable. He keeps me out most of the time. Toughest shields I've ever dealt with. He's a damn vault – one I would love to crack open."
The vehemence in her voice, the hate. The twelve-year old girl she used to be was gone. Dead. Claire would be heartbroken if she found out.
You shouldn't think the worst, Leon, Claire had said a time long ago when they had been lovers. He had been searching for weeks, months. Never stopped. He blamed everyone, almost quit his job until he realized he needed the resources. Claire, tired of his mood, ready to leave him. She's safe somewhere, she's okay. They wouldn't go through all that trouble to hurt her. Hang onto that hope. They wanted her alive. They'll keep her alive.
Alive, yeah. But happy? Normal? No.
"I don't demand anything. I'm suggesting you give me Leon. No shots fired. No causalities. No mess. In exchange, I let you walk." Wesker's dark trench coat glimmered with a checkered pattern. Same for his pants and body armor. What kind of shop sells clothes like that? Sinister R Us?
"Generous indeed, if I worried for my safety. But as you see," Saddler waved his hand at the ganado, his faithful flock of empty ones. Once Indigo, now sheep. It saddened him more than it should have. "I have more than enough protection."
"As do I," Wesker said. His aura seethed and a tendril of flame snapped the air. Another option crossed out, but his aura kept shuffling through tactics like fingers through cards in a rolodex.
Behind Wesker and his dragon breath aura, stood several groups. The farthest were five scientists clustered together like sardines, ready to run screaming off the platform if Saddler so much as twitched in their direction. Only one seemed intrigued enough to stand apart from the others, a lanky middle-aged man who took notes on a small notepad, his scribbling frantic. Brave bastard.
The military units, vast in number, spread throughout the platform like black ants waiting to chow down on the ganado picnic Saddler had left out. Their emotions ranged from impatience, to anticipation, to shock. One grunt, his pale face frozen with dread, looked ready to bolt. Another wanted to open fire. Their auras mashed into one another, a sea of blue and gold churning in a storm.
Then four...others. Two female, two male, ages hard to pinpoint. What were they? They had auras like Wesker, but smaller, different colors. Infected with something, but what? They wore slinky red and black combat uniforms, held slick and shining weapons. Wesker's version of covert ops?
"Blood Angels, his selected." Sherry's lip raised, and her aura mimed her disgust. "They're dangerous. Like him. I could get only one on my side."
"Side? What do you mean side? Just what the hell is going on with you, with this?"
"Not now. I'll tell you everything later. Promise. Let's get closer."
Like two pixies choosing what flower to watch the battle from, Sherry led him between the two armies. She decided on a crumbled pylon to the side, and levitated toward it, towing him along. Soul or not, he didn't feel comfortable being exposed like this, even if Sherry had assured Saddler couldn't see him. Wesker's aura kept drawing his attention, the magical fire inside the fire. So much energy there –
An ocean to sup, you could drink forever and never empty it.
The echo of Jase's voice as the plaga. Even sleeping, the jerk annoyed him. Leon kicked Jase's echo away before the other voices got the bright idea to mutter random things in his head. Sherry glanced at him, her aura guarded. He felt a twinge of unease then. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for her to be eavesdropping after all. What were her motives? She had something planned, something that would involve him.
"Yes, but say nothing. He's noticed you finally."
What?" He stared at Saddler, his incorporeal heart thudding against his imaginary ribs.
"No, Wesker. Remember? I had to show him I found you."
Wesker didn't look in his direction, but a tendril of fire wove toward him. He retreated from the flame snake, worried that if he smacked it away, it would burn him. "Shit, Sherry. You could have warned me!"
"Sorry. I had to let him see. He didn't believe me."
"You're talking to him now? He can see us?"
"Yes. Limited communication. As I said. A vault."
Leon noticed Wesker's beady cat eyes darting to the side, sneaking a look at him behind those dark glasses. "So...can he hear me too?"
Sherry had noticed his tone, his sly smile. She lowered her voice in warning. "Leon. Behave."
He made his eyes big and innocent. "But he can't react without giving himself away, right?"
"Leon, don't provoke him. I'm serious."
"I'm just gonna go over there and say, 'hey'. He can handle that. I'm sure Big bad Wesker can multi-task like no other." Cautious, yet eager, he sauntered over to Wesker with his wispy connect-the-dot legs, careful to avoid touching the fire. Not that he had to worry. It retreated as he approached, a wary tiger surprised at the antelope's daring.
Sherry didn't stop him, but she didn't look happy either. "If you break his concentration, Saddler will know something's wrong. Then he might notice us. Notice me. If that happens-"
"It'll be fine, like teasing one of those British guys that can't smile or move." Leon stopped a foot or so away, crossed his arms and appraised Wesker from head to toe. He regretted not having his wings in this state. Razor feathers hurling toward Wesker's smug face would have been priceless.
"Well look at you," Leon said. "All dressed in black and thinking you're a bad ass. Funny, heard a girl kicked your butt back in Antarctica. Yeah, Chris told me all about it. She slapped you around the room and set you on fire. How embarrassing. And then you threatened Claire, desecrated Steve's body. Claire had liked Steve. Liked him a lot. And now I just found out you tortured Sherry. Not a smart move there, Wessie. So guess what? When I get back into my body and get ahold of you, I'll make sure you suffer as she did. I'm going to do to you what you did to her. Yeah, pretend you don't hear me, but I know you hear me. I know you see me."
"Help me understand why he's so important to you," Wesker said with a smile so sharp it could draw blood. "From what Ms. Wong showed me, these Indigo seem...belligerent. Aren't they hard to control? Defiant? I assume this why you keep the leash short."
"Wow, double talk," Leon said. "You're good. Better watch it though, Saddler's pretty spry for an old Sovereign, might catch on sooner than you think. You know, he has a fondness for eating heads, chowed down on a few ganado a while ago. Maybe he'll eat you. I'd pay to see that."
Wesker's predatory smile never faltered. His aura didn't even flicker in Leon's direction. "Such impudence to deal with on a daily basis. But if I took him off your hands, think of the relief, the peace of mind."
Saddler raised his eyebrow. His aura snakes coiled over one another, a mocking slinky dance unseen by all except Leon and Sherry. "He cannot harm me. He must obey me. There are moments, yes, when he will rebel, but as time goes by, those moments will recede. And the power we share. It is divine. There is a bleeding effect when they feed. Their power infuses us, makes us stronger. A bonded Sovereign is a formidable opponent indeed."
Sherry narrowed her gaze at Wesker, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Damn, why did Saddler have to say that? Now he's even more interested."
"Please, Wessie there wouldn't know what to do with me even if he had me."
A direct challenge in those words, one that Wesker's aura answered at once. In an instant, the wary tiger's appetite returned, and he surrounded the mouthy antelope with a ring of fire. Wesker's aura cut Sherry from view, and the momentary panic made his own aura lash out in a flurry of violet light. They clashed, the crushing weight of Wesker's will trying to dominate his, tripping him up, battering him. Without a body, he was defenseless, but his aura fought back, snarling, bucking, preventing the tiger from sinking its teeth. A moment more of abuse, and he managed to break free.
Tail between his legs, he rushed to Sherry's side.
Sherry held him close, calmed him with her light and her hands. "That's why I don't go near him. In this state, we are vulnerable to psychic attacks. He was just playing, but if he wanted to, he could have really hurt you," she said. Then she directed her next words to Wesker, her fury a golden array of darts aimed in his direction. "If you do that again I could lose control. I lose control, and Saddler will find out what you're doing. Then see if your sweet talk can save your men, your scientists, or your precious angels."
Wesker's aura gave a dismissive wave at her, but Leon saw those red eyes gleam at him with satisfaction. Yeah, point taken. Asshole.
Without missing a beat of his "real" conversation, Wesker said, "This bond sounds complex, but we can separate parasitic twins easily enough. All it takes is skill and patience."
"Which you have copious amounts of, I'm sure. But do you have the time, the resources? I think not," Saddler said.
"I reiterate. You can leave. Take your people, your research. I won't interfere. It suits my purposes, actually. You could continue your invasion of our helpless world, unimpeded, spawn your Los Plagas far and wide. I'll stay out of your way – in fact, I'll even offer support for your endeavors. There's no reason we can't be allies. Is he worth losing this opportunity?"
"Yes, he is. But enough maundering with lies and empty promises. We have arrived at a stalemate. A pyrrhic victory is something we both wish to avoid, yes? So I will treat you now as I would any rival lord." Saddler gave his staff to one of his ganado commanders. The creature took it with reverence and a sigh. The heavy mantle came next, a treat for another lucky member of his flock.
He stepped forward, gestured to the empty space between them as if inviting Wesker to sit down for tea. "If you want him, little black rat – you will duel for him."
AN: Sherry is very different than the first version of Rare, I know. But for what I have planned, she needs to be an adult, and a little conniving. Also, this chapter was done very quick. Let me know if there are typos, mistakes, weirdness, etc.. Hope you guys like the swift update :)
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