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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.

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.:Chapter 8:.

Advice

Chris completely lost track of time.

The brunet had pushed away the pot of pasta some hours before and now had his forehead leaning helplessly on the table. His arms were limp at his sides and, by this point, his mind was blank. The smell of old macaroni and cheese was lingering in the air and there was little he could do to prevent himself from vomiting. In fact, all he seemed to muster was pushing it farther away, to the opposite edge of the table before dropping his arm back at his side.

Chris couldn't seem to find the energy to stand up and take care of the dried macaroni let alone walk all the way back to his room. He felt emotionally drained as he tried to sift through the pile of useless thoughts accumulating in his brain but nothing was coming from it- he'd been thinking too long and far too much. Tipping his head to the side, Chris let his left flushed cheek lay against the cool table soothingly and couldn't find himself to switch sides when he heard the automatic door to his left open.

"Christopher-"

Chris could hear the mild shock in his voice but refused to look at the blond- he simply couldn't.

"Finally taking my suggestion for a break, Wesker?"

Chris heard footsteps and the automatic door closed. Chris could distantly hear the careful openings and closings of each individual cupboard.

"I'm simply here for nourishment as I've come to find my energy draining," Wesker muttered from somewhere behind Chris. "I assume you've been here for quite some time."

"It's hard being human, isn't it?" Chris asked, disregarding the latter statement by the blond.

"I am not human, Christopher. It's merely a simple complication that I must endure whilst I progress farther into my research," Wesker retorted.

Chris could mildly feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand and knew Wesker's eyes were on him, making him grow rather uncomfortable as he had just spent hours upon hours contemplating Wesker himself to no avail whatsoever.

"Right, but it's hard, isn't it?" Chris asked again, physically shivering until the feeling vanished.

"It's not as if I haven't been human before, Chris-"

"You aren't answering my question," Chris muttered, his voice replicating his exhaustion.

"I'm well aware," Wesker spoke as Chris heard the fridge open.

Chris sighed exasperatingly and he, reluctantly, moved his arms up. His elbows and upper arms sat on either side of his head while his fingers intertwined and cupped the back of his neck. Chris wasn't sure how or why but it made him feel much more comfortable as if it had just put some hidden barrier between Wesker and himself.

It became increasingly difficult for Chris to avoid pondering Wesker related thoughts whilst the man was lingering in the room. His thoughts somehow spilled back into the thoughts of the night before and their conversation prior to the kiss.

"I don't know where you get your ideas from, Wesker. Assuming I would have any faith in you at all would be-"

"Unfortunately, Chris, as I am the only one to protect you and have proved to be more than capable of doing so, you have put quite a bit faith in me. Perhaps that's why you're reaching out to me in such a strange way or, perhaps, it's that damn self righteousness- always having to be the hero."

Wesker was right, after all. Chris had put far more faith in him than he ever would have expected and this troubled him. Wesker was the enemy. It was Wesker's fault that Uroboros happened along with most of the viral outbreaks. Wesker had been the result of countless deaths- and yet somehow Chris saw a human side to him while also depending on him.

"I'm not asking to make the damn serum. I'm just asking to understand the situation and if that involves going into a detailed explanation that you don't think I'll understand, then do it. Just like I've put faith in you, you've put faith in me," Chris snapped, his right hand pointing from Wesker to himself.

"Oh, is that so?" Wesker chuckled, tilting his head in the opposite direction.

"You've put faith in me not to run, to help you find your damn serums, to play along with all of your mind games, and to steadily remember each direct thing that you wanted me to remember at the right times. Face it Wesker, I'm only here for your twisted entertainment. You throw me in a room, leave for hours to go do what you need to do, then when you're done you decide to come back and play more games. You do this over and over until I break down and then what, Wesker? I've already been down that road once. Are you going to kill me if I do it again? If I become so full of helplessness that I just give up and-"

Chris still believed this and it was the only thought that seemed to make sense in his twisted mindset- the thought that it was all a game and the moment Wesker grew bored would be Chris's downfall. It was, simply, how Wesker was. Wesker was a sadistic son of a bitch who played countless games for his own pleasure because nothing seemed to entertain him- and yet somehow Chris was attracted to his sadistic tendencies.

"You, Chris, are wrong. You have a tendency to be wrong more often than naught so do not assume you are always correct with your ridiculous little ramblings. Furthermore, and listen closely Chris because I will not repeat this again, you are indeed my entertainment but do not assume I would protect you whilst you were vulnerable and allow you to assist me just to simply kill you because you've ceased to entertain me. I can't find it in me to care if you decide to give up on hope or whatever the hell has kept you moving for these past few weeks because, Chris, I will continue to play with you even as you give up on everything around you. Lastly, I put faith in no one-"

It had been a lie but only the latter part. Chris had allowed the man to speak because, yet again, the blond was right and as he'd established beforehand, Wesker was always right. There would be little point in saving Chris only to kill him. Chris believed Wesker wasn't lying through most of it and the thought somehow soothed the brunet feeling as if he wasn't as expendable as he'd assumed a week prior. Even through it all, Wesker was clear that Chris was indeed there for his entertainment- and Chris found himself highly invigorated by the idea.

"Don't tell me you never held any faith in me while in S.T.A.R.S. because that would be an outright lie. I can name a handful of times that we've had to depend on each other and don't deny it, Wesker, some of that carried onto now because if you had taken anyone else as your prisoner, they would have been unconscious and handcuffed the entire time," Chris fought back, his eyes squinting in anger as Wesker remained quiet.

In reality, Chris was sure he could name far more than a handful. In S.T.A.R.S., Chris always seemed to be Wesker's backup and Wesker never once complained or requested anyone different. Granted, he was a sharp-shooter but the large amount of times that Bravo also accompanied Alpha on missions never changed the line-up, even if Forest could have supplied better backup than Chris could have. Added to the thought, if Wesker had taken Sheva or Jill, they would have been tied and unconscious, just as he said where as he was practically being treated as a guest getting will to move around and do mostly what he wanted- Chris didn't feel like a prisoner as he had when he first awoke in Wesker's clutches. Now, the brunet felt like a complicated friend- another feeling he could relate back to S.T.A.R.S.

"As I said, I assume you've been here for quite some time," Wesker's voice rang through the empty room and Chris felt himself physically jump.

"I have- Not sure how long," Chris muttered, his neck beginning to strain enough to cause him to roll his head slighting, allowing his warm right cheek to rest against the table and the view of the automatic door to come into his sights.

"Nearly six hours, I believe," Wesker muttered and Chris could practically hear the sliding leather material as the man pocketed the device he silently pulled from his pocket to check the time.

"Not really surprised," came another mutter from Chris as a sigh escaped his lips soon after.

"I also assume you've somehow accepted what has happened and now find yourself unable to fully comprehend the idea nor can you find a sense of comfort whilst your thoughts begin-"

"I get it. You know what's running though my head, thank you Wesker for pointing it out to me as if I haven't been mulling it over the past six hours," Chris snapped tiredly, his fingers releasing each other so that his arms fell in front of him.

"I doubt 'mulling' is the correct word to use, Chris. Perhaps, 'brooding' would be adequate?" Wesker suggested as Chris began hearing quiet shuffling through various cupboards.

"Wesker-" Chris grumbled, digging his face into his left arm.

"You've yet to listen to a word I have said regarding the issue and thus, you continue to suffer. Perhaps it's time, Chris, to stop and think why you find yourself so keen to over think absolutely every detail in the situation. Furthermore, you could possibly recall what we spoke about this morning- you just might find that this complicated situation isn't as complicated as you seem to view it in your head," Wesker suggested before closing the cupboard he was looking through and turning on his heel to begin towards the door.

"Aren't you going to get anything to eat?" Chris asked, his eyes peeking over his arm to watch Wesker stop in front of the now open door.

Wesker turned and looked at Chris from behind his sunglasses before speaking;

"Actually, Chris, I was simply taking a break- as you suggested. I assumed you would have come to some revelation about the whole ordeal and I, unfortunately, presumed you would be doing exactly as you're doing now."

"So you somehow knew I would come to terms with what happened and immediately shut down?" Chris asked through a mumble.

"Indeed, I did. I know you far better than you believe, Chris," Wesker stated clearly before leaving the room.

The automatic door closed and Chris, for the first time in hours, sat up. His eyes fell on the pot across the table from him and, with a sigh, he leaned back.

Wesker was, yet again, right.

So what did he want Chris to remember exactly? Chris had been sifting through his memories all day as each played one after another, like an endless taunting cycle. Chris's eyes focused on the reflective surface of the pot before he got up and walked around to it. Chris grasped the cold handle before disposing of it into the sink. Setting the pot into the sink itself, Chris began running the water and it was that simple motion that lead him speeding out of the kitchen after Wesker.

Rounding the corner and entering the lab, Wesker looked over his shoulder to the brunet in the doorway. The two stared at each other for a long moment, Wesker stiff and still while Chris found himself speechless.

"Yes, Christopher?" Wesker asked hesitantly.

"I was wondering if this place had any showers," Chris said slowly, his arms crossing defensively.

"Yes, of course. The bathrooms have a separate shower room and beside that is a locker room- all which can be found past the kitchen. Everything is labeled, you won't have much trouble finding it," Wesker replied, turning back to his project.

When Chris didn't leave, Wesker continued.

"Was there something else?" he asked, impatience and humor diving through his voice.

"No, not really. I just can't seem to figure you out," Chris muttered.

Wesker practically had the brunet wrapped around his finger yet Wesker seemed to surprise Chris at every turn- It was pathetic in Chris's eyes.

"This bothers you?"

"To an extent," Chris replied hesitantly.

"It shouldn't," Wesker's short replies alone were shocking Chris- maybe the blond just wanted Chris to leave? It wouldn't make sense to keep pursuing the conversation though, so if Wesker wanted Chris out of the room, he would state it plainly and Chris knew that.

"Why not?" Chris asked- the man was becoming rather desperate for answers.

"You already have me figured out, Chris, and I must say, that is a feat in itself," Wesker assured practically allowing Chris to hear the smirk in his voice.

"How do I have you figured out?" Chris asked, his head tilting to the right in slight confusion.

"I don't believe you require that answer, Christopher."

"I already know it, right?" Chris asked expectantly and somehow also absentmindedly proving Wesker's point.

"Indeed, you do."

Chris sighed heavily and turned on his heel, making a right down the hallway again as his mind swam with returning conflicting thoughts. He continued past the kitchen door, which opened for him anyway, and soon found the door that read bathroom. With no other door beside it, he approached it and it, like the lab and kitchen, opened automatically.

Similar to the kitchen, everything about the bathroom seemed white and new. The stalls, unlike public bathrooms, were a smooth and shiny white color while the white tiled floor glistened with the bright lights that lined the ceiling. The sinks that lined the back wall across from the entrance reflected in the mirrors above them- every separate mirror all showing Chris standing in awestruck. He walked down the rows of stalls until he reached the sinks and to the right was another door that read 'Showers'.

Unlike the previous doors, he had to push this one open but once inside, he wasn't surprised to see that the showers were as clean as the last few rooms he found himself in. The showers were separated into large cubicle stalls, all which had a white and shiny door rather than a cheap curtain. After the long line of showers was a large cupboard that Chris assumed hels shower supplies that he happily went towards.

Opening the cupboard, Chris saw three large shelves consisting of a variety of shower items including towels, robes, body washes, shampoos, and razors. Chris, gladly, began taking the needed items- first grabbing a towel, a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of conditioner, and a yet to be unwrapped bar of soap. Closing the cupboard with his free hand, he turned on his heel and picked a shower stall. He slid into it and deposited the items on a small shelf in front of him before hanging the towel over the open door behind him.

Chris backed out of the shower stall and returned to the end of the room where the cupboard sat. He opened the cupboard quickly to grab one of the robes that sat neatly folded beside the tower of towels before closing the cupboard door again and taking a left. Walking beyond the end stall, he was able to find the last door that read 'lockers'. Chris approached the door and extended a hand, opening it as he slid into the door.

The room was brighter than the last two and bigger than the prior rooms combined. Countless rows of lockers were displayed in front of him causing him to wonder how big the facility really was. Long benches lined the glistening silver lockers and the white tiled floor continued in this room as well.

Choosing a nearby locker, Chris opened it with ease and wasn't surprised to find it empty. He began first with removing his socks, his shoes being discarded somewhere in his room as he'd woken up the day before without them. When the remainder of his clothing was placed in the locker, Chris slipped on the long white robe, not bothering to tie it but pulling it around him tight enough for his nude body to be concealed (not that he expected anyone to see him like that).

Chris made his way back into the shower room and, before long, was running the water to the side of him while he tried finding a temperature he was comfortable with. When the fingers that were testing the water began warming, Chris shed the robe, tossing it over the closed door behind him, and began inching under the water.

For a long few moments, Chris was able to enjoy the water spraying over him. It had been the first real shower since he had left America and it was nice to allow the water to wash everything away- even if it was momentarily. Once Chris found it difficult to relax, his mind overpowering him again, he grabbed the small shampoo bottle he had retrieved from the cupboard and poured quite a bit into his palm.

Chris rubbed his palms together slowly, his mind getting lost in the way the liquid was shifting from finger to finger before scrubbing both hands through his hair. He rubbed at his scalp sensually, enjoying the lathering as water continued to beat against his sore back soothingly.

As the water rinsed the suds from his hair, Chris couldn't stop himself from thinking- what would happen if he gave into his desires?

He vaguely recalled, when driving into Africa, asking himself whether it was all worth it. Chris Redfield had been through enough to say that he'd lost too many friends, co-workers, partners. Chris was the clichéd hero that, despite everything, somehow always pulled through- even if that didn't mean the same for anyone who stood behind him.

He hated it.

Chris hated being the hero if it meant people around him getting hurt and this was the perfect example. He came to Africa not looking for Wesker but for Jill. If he hadn't been tipped off, he wouldn't have pushed so hard to get the mission from the B.S.A.A and he wouldn't be in this situation. But what situation, exactly, would he have been in? If Uroboros wasn't stopped then the world would have been catastrophic.

And yet, somehow, here Chris stood without either partner and in the hands of the enemy.

Not just any enemy- but Albert Wesker himself.

Adding to the bad situation was the fact that Chris was helping and even, slightly, falling for the guy.

Chris grabbed the conditioner bottle once he was sure the shampoo had been rinsed from his hair and poured a glob of it into his palm. He, again, rubbed his hands together before scrubbing the conditioner into his hair.

So was it worth fighting anymore? For all he knew, Sheva and Jill assumed both Wesker and himself were death. If that was true, maybe they would just say the mission was complete and go back to the B.S.A.A., completely forgetting about Chris.

Chris would assume that about Sheva but Jill? Would Jill really just let him go so easily?

Chris fought hard to keep searching for her. With no body found, he knew she had to have been alive and didn't stop until his job risked it but he had been right all along. Then, the thought occurred to him- what if Jill did think he was alive? Would she ever find him? Would he already be dead when she did?

There were too many possibilities for Chris to comprehend. He was finding it difficult to separate the different ideas playing in his head of all the different situations that he found himself pondering. What would happen to him if Wesker was able to fix the serum? What would happen to him if Wesker wasn't able to fix it? What as the man planning?

And what was Chris going to do about his feelings and that kiss? Both kisses?

Chris was just lost.

Chris unwrapped the bar of soap, setting the wrapping onto a separate shelf, and began rubbing it over his toned chest. Lathering the soap into his skin made his mind wander, again, to Wesker. What was the blond thinking exactly? Why did he kiss Chris first? What brought that on, exactly? And why did Chris shut down afterwards? Was it shock?

Why the hell were there so many unanswered questions swimming through Chris's mind?

Chris sighed, rather irritably, before moving to scrub the remainder of his body. His thoughts were getting too deep- he needed to listen to Wesker and at the thought, a shiver went up his spine. Chris would need to listen to his enemy for emotional advice? This alone explained how difficult his situation was.

Even after Chris had gotten out of the shower, his thoughts didn't stop. The brunet sat, the towel around his waist, in front of his closed locker. His hair was dripping wet and he could still visibly see watermarks displayed across his body as he hadn't bothered drying himself off whatsoever. Both elbows leaned on their corresponding knee and his palms covered his face.

Wesker said to stop thinking so deeply about it- and that's what he was going to do.

The question was- why did Chris kiss Wesker? Maybe Chris should be questioning Wesker's actions since he did kiss him first, but that would defeat the purpose of listening to Wesker because he also said to not question his actions before Chris questioned his own. Chris's thoughts were certainly getting confusing if they hadn't been before.

So, the questioned remained- why did Chris kiss Wesker?

Because Wesker kissed me.

The response wasn't what Chris expected nor did he accept the answer. It didn't make sense.

Why does it have to make sense? I liked the kiss Wesker initiated so why not initiate one myself?

That… Made a bit more sense logically but sounded nothing like Chris. Chris Redfield, B.S.A.A. agent, would not kiss Albert Wesker.

No, but Chris Redfield, S.T.A.R.S., member might.

Chris was beginning to really despise this newfound voice. He wasn't Chris Redfield of S.T.A.R.S., anymore. That was too far in his past and something he was sincerely beginning to get sick of. There were good memories and there were bad and, unfortunately, the latter was beginning to take over despite how vividly he remembered the majority of the memories. Chris's B.S.A.A. part wouldn't allow him to push any further into the idea of Chris's attraction to Wesker.

But is any of the B.S.A.A. around here now, rescuing me? Did they care that Sheva and I were the only two left in the entire squad they sent out? Did they bother trying to send another team? Of course not. Here, I'm not either a S.T.A.R.S or B.S.A.A. member. I'm just Chris Redfield.

Chris couldn't tell if the thought was unsettling to not feel apart of anything. It was similar to the feeling he got when he was disbanded from the U.S. Military and had nothing else to live for. It wasn't until Barry suggested that he try for S.T.A.R.S. that he actually felt like he was worth anything. Feeling apart of something, especially something good, had a profound effect on Chris- and now he sat without that. Though, he couldn't exactly say he got the feeling from being in the B.S.A.A. and he found himself feeling more expendable than he did in S.T.A.R.S.

Maybe because he was expendable.

Chris verbally groaned his palms rubbing against his face vigorously out of frustration. It took quite a bit in him to push himself back into the mindset of looking at things without succumbing to deep thought.

Another question arose- why did Wesker kiss him?

Because he wanted to. Wesker plays mind games, anything emotional goes too far for him. He wouldn't kiss me just to mess with me.

Again, Wesker was right. Chris really did know more about Wesker than he originally thought.

So why did Wesker want to?

Maybe the return of his humanity is also messing with his emotions- making everything he felt whilst he was human return and maybe that's what he was talking about when he said things were already changing about him.

The thought made Chris's stomach jump and twist excitedly. These answers all made sense and he was somehow answering them without much thought at all- yet he could easily find himself deep in thought for hours upon hours just running endless questions through his mind with no luck of squeezing a single answer out of himself.

The last question burned at Chris excitedly- What was he going to do now that he wanted Wesker?

I should do what I want.

His own thought response caused the right side of his mouth to twitch into a smirk and he pulled his palms from his face. Chris would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the thought of being able to act on desire and allow his mind to stop questioning every little action they did, whether it was separate or together. A dark chuckle escaped from Chris- would he really be able to do it?

If I want it bad enough, I'll be able to do it.

The answer was enough for him to contently open the locker in front of him. To Chris's surprise, it wasn't his dirty clothes that awaited him inside. Instead, his previous clothes were cleaned and folded neatly within, awaiting Chris's return. It took a long moment for Chris to ask himself who could have done it and after practically no thought, it was obvious.

Wesker.
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Shattered Memories