Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

*Amara POV*

In the small town of Marcell, within the many houses that surrounded its heart, lay a single house just on the city outskirts. The lone one-story house was a quaint, warm home with its wooden panels containing the heat within. The front of the door opened, allowing a lone woman to step into the frigid wind. A shiver racked her body, and she pulled her long black coat closer around her form. After she closed the door, making sure to lock it behind her, the woman turned around, her dark brown eyes scanning the darkness in front of her. A small sigh fell from her full lips. Time to go.

Hesitantly, she stepped forward, being mindful of the strappy two-inch heels that her friend had bought her for her twenty-eighth birthday. She wasn't quite used to them yet. As she made it safely to the sidewalk without twisting her ankle, she saw two bright headlights heading in her direction. She lifted her right hand to shield her eyes and squinted. A vehicle pulled up next to her, and she could hear the familiar voice of her best friend shouting out the window.

“Damn, Amara," the other woman said with a laugh. "You look hot as hell tonight!”

Amara let her hand fall back to her side, giving her friend a blank stare. It wasn't like she was wearing anything special. Yeah, Amara was wearing a long, gold-colored gown that hugged all of her curves, much to her dismay, underneath her long black jacket and the heels, but it was just a dress. Amara shook her head at her friend's antics as she made her way to the car and got in.

“No, I don’t," she said in a dry tone. "But thank you for the compliment regardless, Tanya."

Amara buckled herself up and then leaned back against the seat. She let out another tired sigh as Tanya began to pull away from the curb. Her friend shot her a brief, concerned look before grinning.

“You are welcome. Bess and Mari are going to meet us at the Opera house. Still can’t believe that Mari won those tickets for us. Or that the place is finally open! I mean, how many times did they do reconstruction on that monstrous thing?” Tanya asked with a wide grin. 

"I don’t know," she replied, looking at her mocha-colored companion thoughtfully. "About three or four times now, I think.”

“Shit. I am wondering where the hell they are coming up with the dough for this," Tanya continued, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "I mean, these tickets are going at three hundred dollars a pop. We're a small town, too. For someone to be able to rebuild this large-ass thing several times over the past few years... Yeah, someone is definitely swimming in some secret ass money. Love to know who it is, ya know?"

Amara shrugged and turned to watch the road. They drove past the different buildings, houses, and small businesses. Cars zoomed by them, either passing them or heading the other way. The roads were lit up by the street lights, and even then, it was a dark and overcast night. Eventually, Amara saw the familiar sight of the opera house in the distance. The building was large and stood out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the city. 

At first, all one could see was the marble roof. As they got closer, the true, gaudy, grandeur of the opera house became more apparent. Large pillars surrounded the building, holding up the roof. Marble statues of angels sat perched above the door, arms outstretched as if reaching for the sky. Tanya pulled into the parking lot and shook her head.

“Holy shit! This place is fucking huge!" Tanya said with glee in her voice. She managed to find a parking space near the back of the lot. "We should find Bess and Mari waiting at the entrance… Past all these people still waiting at the door. Benefit of them showing up before us. We can just cut ahead to our group." 

Amara blinked at the long line of people still waiting to buy tickets. God, that line was huge.  Tanya turned off the car, and Amara unbuckled and waited for Tanya to get out of the car first. Neither woman wanted to face the cold chill. Amara watched, amused, as her friend procrastinated by pulling her long, light brown hair into a high ponytail. Tanya then slipped her gold hoop earrings into her ears and double-checked her makeup. Amara watched as her friend finally got out of the car to brave the cold and followed suit, mindful of her heels. 

Amara had to steady herself as her heels slid on the snow-covered asphalt before she could shut the car door behind her. Tanya locked the car and walked over to Amara, gently grabbing her arm and locking it with hers. She then began to lead Amara toward the opera house. They both saw Bess and Mary standing near the front of the line, both other the other women waving at them with glee in their eyes.

“Bout time you two showed up! Ya’ ready to head inside?” Bess asked excitedly, handing them their tickets.

Amara smiled shyly at the outgoing redhead as she took her ticket. Mary darted forward on Amara's other side and jostled her arm with her elbow.

“This is going to be a wonderful show," she gushed as she handed her ticket to one of the folks manning the ticket booth. "The actors and actresses are just top-notch. Like, why are they performing in our dinky little town? Shit. We better hurry. It’s about to start soon!”

All four women handed over their tickets and then left their coats at the cost check-in. Laughing, they made their way to their seats. Amara was happy when she was finally able to sit down. Ugh, she had no balance in those blasted heels and needed to hold onto Tanya for most of the walk. At least their seats were in the front of the stage, right in the center. It was a great spot. 

As they got comfortable, the lights began to dim. They chatted for a few more moments until the opera began. It was beautiful. Tanya had been right. The actors were top-notch and able to make one feel for their respective roles. Even the villain of the piece could make a person feel inspired. Amara watched in awe as the opera's climax began, the swell in the music making her heart race.

Only... Amara couldn’t help but feel as if her body was growing hot. And not in a pleasant way. No, it was like she had a fever, and it was growing worse. 

Her eyes drifted toward the main actress, and Amara started in her seat. The woman was looking directly at her as she sang. The lovely brunette opera singer turned to face the man playing the prince and he.... suddenly caught on fire. The crew on stage panicked and were engulfed in flames seconds later. The crowd began to scream in shock and fear. This wasn’t part of the play.

Amara was frozen in her seat. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Fear engulfed her mind, and she found that she couldn’t move. Tanya was pulling at her arm, yelling in her ear. There was a bloom of heat to her left, and she jolted, turning to look. The man that she’d been sitting next to had caught on fire. He stood, screaming, and fell into the row of seats in front of them. Screams and wails echoed throughout the building. Amara looked up, some instinct tearing through her, and she saw a body falling from the rafters above. One of the stage people. 

Amara jerked out of her seat, wrenching herself free from Tanya’s hold and shoving her friend out of the way before throwing her body back to avoid being struck by the falling body. Panting, gasping for air, and coughing on the smoke, Amara pushed herself to her feet and looked around. So much carnage. The flames were spreading as more and more people caught on fire and fell to the ground. The stage curtains were alight and... Amara froze, eyes wide as her gaze once more locked on the form of the brunette actress. 

“I am Eve…” the woman said. “And tonight has been a glorious debut…”

The woman looked back at her with a grin that conveyed sick satisfaction with the scene around her. The woman left. Choking on bile, she spun around and tried to flee. As she reached the end of the aisle, a crack sounded from above her head, and she fell back just in time to avoid the broken and crackling debris of the second-story balcony. 

She was trapped. 

With nowhere else to go, Amaara clambered up onto the stage and ran toward the closest door. She barrelled through the opening and ran. Just ran. She didn’t know where she was going, hadn’t even seen an exit sign. She just needed to getaway. She ran down the long stone hallway and reached a single room. Not thinking, she yanked the door open and ducked inside it. It was a room full of props. She crawled between the gap between two large crates and tucked herself into the corner, trying to muffle her coughing. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she curled up into a ball. 

Screams filled the air. Distant, like the wailing cries of the damned. Amara slammed her hands over her ears, struggling to block out the noise. She hummed a melody to herself… and eventually passed out from the stress. 

An indeterminate amount of time later, she woke to the sound of the door opening. Amara jerked awake and leaned back, listening intently. There was a rustling sound, a snuffling sound of something sniffing rapidly at the air. A dog's nose brushed her foot, and she tucked herself into a tighter ball. The crates were shifted to the side.

“We have a survivor over here,” the man called over his shoulder, pulling the dog back. “Miss? Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

A large hand fell onto her shoulder, and Amara jolted back with a whimper of fear. A pulse of heat ran through her. The man jerked back with a pained yelp, shaking his hand. Amara’s eyes widened fearfully as flames danced over his skin. 

“Shit!” he cursed, patting his hand against his leg quickly, trying to put out the flame. The dog fell back with a whine. "What the hell?!"

A strange yet familiar clicking noise filled the air, and her head jolted to the side back toward the door. She whined softly, hunching in on herself at the sight of several guns pointed right at her. Whoever this man was, he'd brought friends. Military by the looks of them. A whimper escaped her, and she shakily held up her hands to show that she was unarmed. 

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry," Amara said, rambling in her panic.

"Stand down!" the man barked at his team. When they didn’t move, he stalked toward them. "Dammit, I said 'stand down!'"

He stopped in front of one of the men. He carefully but forcefully pushed the gun to the side, and toward the ground so it was no longer facing Amara. The glare he shot at the others made them lower their weapons as well. They looked wary. Afraid. And their eyes were pinned on her form. 

They were afraid of her?!

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Amara said repeatedly, looking at them with eyes wide and filled with open confusion. “I don’t know what's going on… I don’t know what’s happening…”

The man turned back to her, and he moved back over to her. He stopped a few feet away and knelt down. There was a kind look to his soft brown eyes that was soothing, but Amara didn’t dare move. Not when there were people who had already pointed guns her way. She bit her lower lip and went back to holding her legs. He held out one hand to her. 

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright, miss," he began in a low and soothing tone. "My name is Chris Redfield. I am with the BSAA. Can you tell me your name and why you were here?”

Amara stared at his hand, hesitantly reaching out for it. She was willing to answer his questions. Hopefully, she would get answers of her own in return. Something rustled nearby, and there was a heavy thump. Amara jumped and tucked herself back against the wall as all, but one of the armed men turned toward the source of the sound. All except for one who kept his attention on Amara. 

A small grey rat crawled out from a pile of props, sniffing at the air innocently. The men lowered their weapons, laughing and nudging at each other over being spooked by a rodent of all things. The man, Chris, started to chuckle as well… only to freeze as the canine with them snarled and started barking at the rat. The rat, in turn, let out a screech that was decidedly not rat-like. 

Everyone watched in growing horror as the rat began to grow in size. Double, triple, quadruple its natural size. Its teeth lengthened, as well, causing it to fall over from the weight. The jaw bone grew out to extend past the fleshy part with a harsh ripping sound. The rest of its skin and fur began to rip apart, revealing red muscle underneath. The eyes slowly sagged, and its tail lengthened like a whip before splitting into three-bladed ends. 

"Shit!! Confirmed bioweapon!” Chris roared into his radio. “Open fire on that damned rat!"

The rat let out an inhuman roar and jumped at the men as they began to fire at it. Amara watched in utter horror as the rat bounded around the room, seemingly able to dodge the bullets at an impossible speed. Amara noticed that the rat began to gather a fire at the tip of the split tail and sent it flying at the men. The single fireball suddenly split into three fireballs. Most of the men dodged out of the way, except for a single soldier, who was engulfed by the flames. The others were distracted momentarily by the man's painful screams, and it jumped at them again, this time grabbing a soldier's leg with its serrated teeth and tossed them at the others.

"Shit!" Chris repeated as he fired at the rat again.

Amara could only watch helplessly as events unfolded around her. The rat was dodging the soldier’s bullets with ease. It abruptly turned its attention on her, hissing loudly. A scream rose in the back of her throat, but all that escaped was a squeak of noise as she fell backward. It jumped at her, and Chris was able to shoot it in the thigh, forcing it off target. It fell to the ground and rolled around briefly before getting up and lunging once more for Amara. Another terrified squeak escaped her, and she rolled to the side. The rat’s head collided with the crate that had been behind her. Amara dashed away, attempting to flee the room, and tripped over the burned soldier’s weapon. 

Amara pushed herself up and looked at the M4A1 laying on the ground next to her foot. The soldiers were yelling, trying to force the damned rat into a corner so they could kill it. All of that was background noise. Another roar-like squawking filled the air, and Amara lunged for the gun, twisting around onto her side and settling the gun against her shoulder like Tanya had taught her. 

* When you’re in a life or death struggle, Amara, you act! You'll be fighting for life. Don't worry about what happens after. Just focus on your target and fire! * 

Tanya's voice rang through her head. She pulled down on the trigger, unloading the whole magazine into the rat as it leaped at her. The rat’s body flew backward with the force of the bullet's impact, falling to the ground. It began to deteriorate into a puddle of orangish goo. Adrenaline flooded through her system, making her shake. Her head fell to the ground, and she closed her eyes, gasping for breath. The gun was still in her hands, pointed at where the rat had been, her finger still resting loosely on the trigger.

"-I'm it at the ground," a voice said. It took Amara a moment to hear it through the loud ringing in her ears. "Miss? Miss! I need you to aim the gun at the ground and move your finger from the trigger!"

Amara blinked her eyes open, slowly doing what the voice said. She tried to remain as calm as she could. However, she was shaken at the thought of having killed something. She’d only ever practiced with Tanya at the gun range, and, yeah, it was a weird mutated rat, but still! She began to shiver violently. Someone reached out and gently took the gun from her hand.

"Easy now. You’re okay. Take a deep breath for me," the man said. He glanced over at his companions. "Jacobs, stay with me and watch my six. The rest of you, breach and clear. Look for survivors or traces of additional bio-weapons."

"Sir!" the other soldiers, sans this Jacobs fellow, headed out the door.

Amara tried to take a deep breath as he suggested. Tried to let it out carefully. However, it came out more of a shaky coughing fit than anything else. Tears began to stream down her face as she turned to look at the brunette.

“I want to leave…” she said in a watery voice. “I don’t wanna be here anymore…”

Before the man could offer up any words of encouragement, the building began to shake. It was almost as if an explosion had rocked the foundation. Amara whimpered in fear. Chris helped her to her feet, allowing her to lean on him as she stood. More screams came from somewhere in the building, followed by the sounds of gunfire. 

"Shit. I need a sit-rep!" Chris barked, his free hand going to his ear where she assumed an earpiece lay. His expression turned grim a second later. "Got it. Evac with the survivors you found. We need to get to the forward base asap. Move people!"

"We're going to need to move quickly,” he glanced down at Amara, meeting her fearful eyes with his own reassuring gaze. He offered her a gentle, if somewhat grim, smile. “Do you think you can run, or should I carry you?"

“I…” Amere glanced at him, alarmed, before meekly responding, “I’ll try to keep up. I’m not as fit as you are, and I… I don’t want to slow you down.”

Amara looked down at her shoes, mentally apologizing to Tanya for needing to leave her gift behind, and took off the heels. The floor beneath her bare feet was cold as ice, but at least she could run. Amara tossed the shoes aside before looking back at Chris. She gave him a hesitant nod. He nodded back at her, smiling briefly, and turned back to the door. The man he’d spoken to was standing by the entrance to the room, keeping lookout. Amara glanced back at where the rat had died and started. The orange goo was… gone. 

What in the world?

Not wanting to be left behind, Amara followed the men out of the room as they exited. They then turned to head down the hallway that led outside. As they ran, Amara did her best to keep up, but she was lagging a bit. Which turned out to be a good thing. They didn't get very far down the hallway when they were stopped by more of those rat-like monsters. Amara could hear the men cursing under their breath as they opened fire on the monsters. 

Just as with the first one, the small beasts easily avoided getting hit. One kept the men busy, jumping back and forth to distract them, while the other darted at Amara. She ran toward the left, trying to avoid it, but she wasn’t fast enough. It managed to sink its teeth into her left arm, causing her to let out a scream of agony.

Before she knew it, her body heated up again as it had earlier. She raised her right hand to try and wrench the rat-free and winced. Amara couldn’t understand how it happened. A small fireball launched from her raised hand right into the rat’s face! The rat released her arm, letting out an unnatural yowl of agony. It fell to the ground and became nothing but a puddle of orange goo. Just like the last one. What was going on?. Amara abruptly felt exhausted, stumbling to the side and hitting the wall. She pressed her hand against the wound on her arm, trying to stop the blood.

“Look out!” she heard one of the men call out to her as if from down a tunnel. 

Amara looked up just in time to see the rat bypassing the men and jumping right for her. She dodged to the side with a yelp. Shit. She wanted to cry. What did these things have against her?! What did she do?! She raised her right hand on instinct and, acting without her will or input, another fireball launched from her hand, hitting the rat square in the chest as it leaped for her face. Amara slumped to the floor. She felt as if she had run several miles in one go. She was so tired. Darkness ate along the edges of her vision, and she was afraid she was about to pass out.

"Get the hallway clear!" Chris's voice shouted from somewhere far away. A hand smacked her cheek, lightly at first, then harder and more insistent. "Hey! Come on! Don't pass out on me now, kid." 

“Wha-?” Amara shook her head, blinking and glaring weakly at the man. “I’m not a child, you ass. I’m twenty-four!” 

"Six years younger than I am," he countered with a cheeky grin. "Still counts, kiddo. At least you're talking. That's good. Come on, up we go. We need to go. Just stay next to me, and we'll get you out of here."

He stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet before twisting around and firing off a shot toward yet another rat-beast that had crawled its way out of the woodwork. There were so many, but reinforcements had reached them and were dealing with the mass of giant rats. Just the one made it past his friends covering fire, thankfully, so they both had a second to breathe. He looked back at her with a puzzled expression.

"Damned things really have a hard-on for you, kid. Any idea why?" he asked.

“I don’t know,” Amara said, looking at the man with an annoyed expression. “Maybe they just like my tits and my fucking ass. How the hell should I know? And knock the shit off with calling me a kid. My name is Amara Garcia.”

"There we go," once more, he flashed that damned, cheeky ass grin at her. "Got you talking and your name. Keep being angry, Miss Garcia.”

She winced and rubbed at her arm. She could feel the almost burning pain from her wounds hitting her. God, hopefully, it wasn’t infected...

“Fucking hell…” she muttered under her breath, looking over at Chris. "You got a bandage or some shit for my arm?”

“Your arm?” he glanced at her arm and then shook his head. He started to guide her down the hall. Several of his men took up position at their rear. “We'll have to bandage the wound when we get to the forward base. We don't have time to…"

Chris and the others went still as the ground started to shake once more. 

"...treat wounds…" he finished. He looked up, and his eyes widened briefly. He then looked back at her with a grim expression. "Remember how I asked earlier if you could run, Ms. Garcia?"

“Yeah,” Amara said slowly, looking confused. “Why?”

"Now's the time to run," he turned, breaking out into a dash to make a fucking line-backer proud. "Evac, now! Move, move, move!!"

Amara winced and burst into a run after him. She felt sluggish as she followed Chris, though she was trailing slightly behind him. Mentally, she cursed these military men for forgetting that not everyone was fit for such desperate running. Amara heard a crack coming from the ceiling above her. Looking up, she could see one of the support beams snap and give way. Yelping, she picked up her pace, barely avoiding the beam as it hit the ground. She tripped and fell onto the floor, landing upon her injured arm. Her arm flared in agony, and she let out a pained scream.

Gripping her arm tightly, she tried to get back to her feet. Sadly, her exhaustion and the pain she caused her to collapse again. Her vision went spotty. Sweating from the heat and pain coursing through her, Amara just felt tired. She’d often wondered if the universe hated her, what with the string of bad luck she had when it came to her life, but this was taking it too far. Monsters? A collapsing building? Too much. Chris' cursing filled her ears, and she found herself hefted up and over his broad shoulders in what she recognized as a fireman's carry. She blinked the spots from her eyes, watching dazedly as the hallway sped past them.

"So… you're lighter than I expected, Miss Garcia," Chris said in a strained yet joking tone as he ran with her over his shoulders. 

“Fuck you, you military asshole,” Amara replied weakly, a hint of anger leaking into her voice. “You should have just left my ass behind. And don’t lie about my weight. I sure as hell ain't lighter and know damn well that I’m in the one-eighties!"

Amara groaned in pain as her arm was jostled when he jumped over a pile of debris. She wanted this nightmare to be over. Amara just wanted to go home and forget this day ever happened. She wanted her friends...

“Only one-eighty-ish?” Chris asked with a laugh. He yanked them to the side to avoid a falling bit of debris and put on another burst of speed. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the others were still on his heels. When he saw that they were okay, he turned his attention back toward the exit. “Kiddo, that’s nothing to how much I bench-press every day. You’re as light as a kitten.”

"Kudos to you, Mr. Redfield. Would you like a gold star or a fireball to your ass?" Amara replied blandly. She winced as some of the dust from the debris hit her in the face. Today was not her day. “You know what, I think I might just fireball your ass regardless if you keep calling me ‘kiddo!’”

She was sure that they were nearing the exit of the Opera house. She could just make out burnt red chairs as Chris ran. As well as the glow of a somehow still lit Exit sign. 

“Stay awake and alive, and I’ll call you whatever you want later kiddo,” Chris said with a laugh as he zig-zagged around some fallen and burning debris. Thankfully, a large part of the building was built with marble and stone. Less shit to catch fire. “As long as you're awake and sniping at my ass, I call it a win. You’re one of only two survivors that we’ve found so far. No matter what weird shit is going on with you, I’m not about to let you die on my watch. So keep threatening my ass all you want.”

Amara blinked. Who was the other survivor? She glanced down and then angled carefully to look behind them. He bounced her about a little to resettle her, and the sudden thought of he's got a nice ass entered her head. Amara blinked and was glad she did not say that out loud. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself. One of the others, the guy Chris had called Jacobs, ran up alongside them at a jog. 

“Boss has a nice ass, doesn’t he?” the guy asked her with a shit-eating grin.

“... seriously, Jacobs?” Chris drawled over his shoulder as they reached the exit. One of the others darted forward to force open the door, gun raised to make sure it was clear before he waved them through. “Why are you like this?”

“What can I say? I know when a hot dame is checking you out,” Jacobs shot back with a grin. “Shit, if I wasn’t straight, I’d be tempted.”

Amara couldn't help the blush that coated her cheeks and the mental anguish she had just endured from another asshole military man. Chris sighed and ignored the other man as they made a beeline for a bunch of tents that had been set up in the distance next to a shit-ton of military vehicles. 

"Please tell me I can go to sleep now…? I am so fucking done with you military assholes," Amara pleaded tiredly. Her vision wavered again. 

“Not until a doc gives you the all-clear,” Chris said, and Amara could tell that he was heading straight toward a medical tent. “Touch the left side of your head gently.”

Amara grumbled but did as she was told. A sticky feeling met her fingertips, and when she pulled her hand away, she saw blood. Oh. That was why he kept her talking. And why he didn’t say anything about it. He hadn’t wanted her to panic. Amara sighed. She felt Chris shift her on his shoulder as he lifted his left arm and moved the flap out of the way.

“Doc. I got another survivor! She’s injured badly on her arm and has a head injury,” Chris called out to someone that Amara couldn’t see. "Possible concussion, but her pupils are steady, and she's talking without slurring."

“Sit her here on the table, gently, and let me take a look, Redfield," a  feminine voice spoke sternly.

Amara watched a red-haired woman step into view, green eyes landing upon her damaged arm. The woman crouched next to her. Chris gently shuffled her off his shoulders, setting her down on the table, and stepped to the side to allow the doctor to examine her.

“What the bloody hell happened, Captain!? Shit, this is a lot of blood. Normal for head wounds, but not the arm...” the woman began to angrily mutter as she stepped away and began to quickly rush around the tent, grabbing supplies before returning to Amara's side. A bunch of bandages, antiseptics, needles with thread, and gauze. Oh, wonderful. Stitches… Amara sat quietly as the doctor first examined her head wound, causing her to wince as the antiseptic was gently applied to the area.

“Thankfully, this wound is not too serious, but it will require stitching, along with the arm. Which brings me to the question…" the woman pinned her eyes on Chris, making him freeze in place. "Why in the bloody hell did you have this girl slung over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!? Especially with wounds like this!?"

The glare she had pinned Chris with a fierce thing that made even Amara go still. The woman huffed, not waiting for him to respond as she turned to focus on cleaning the head wound, poking a damned needle into the area, and then stitching it up. Amara whined painfully as she felt the needle pinching through her skin despite the slight numbing agent the doctor had injected onto the area.

"Sorry, deary," the woman said soothingly. "I need to stitch up this head wound first, and then I can focus on your arm. At least the head wound is not as bad as I'd feared. Won't need to lose any of that lovely hair. Well, Chris Redfield? I don't hear an explanation on why you had our survivor over your shoulder."

"Fireman's carry, ma'am," he offered in a stiff tone of someone reporting to and daring to correct, a superior. "And she couldn't walk. The building was collapsing around us, so I did what was needed. Kept her talking and awake until I could get her back out here."

The doctor tied the last stitch upon the head wound on Amara and moved to her arm to examine it. Amara could almost see the doctor’s eye twitch as she began to clean out her wound. Amara winced again and grit her teeth in pain. 

“I applaud you on that Redfield, but tell me, how come you couldn’t do that carrying her bridal style? Did you not have backup?" the doctor snapped, never once taking her eyes off what she was doing. "You could have done all that and prevented most of this debris stuck in her arm! You giant git. I can see glass in her arm, particles from the concrete, as well as dirt. Need I go on? I should have one of the others carry your bloody ass over his shoulder the next time you are injured or, better yet, have him drag you through the roughest roads.” 

The doctor ranted at him as she cleaned out Amara’s wound and began the slow process of stitching her flesh back together. Amara winced at the way she was laying into him. Chris coughed into his hand, a determined look on his face.

"With all due respect meant, ma'am, you're a civilian doctor just recently brought onsite for our missions," Chris said, his tone firm but somehow kindly. "I had her in a fireman's carry. Which is a hell of a lot more stable than just over one shoulder and still gives me leeway to use a gun if necessary, unlike a bridal carry. There were, and likely still are, hostile bioweapons in the area. Even if I'd had one of the others carry her here, it would have been the same." 

After the doctor finished stitching and wrapping up Amara’s arm before slowly turning to Chris. The woman sighed and shook her head. She still looked pissed. 

"Thank you for enlightening me, Captain Redfield," she said in a slightly less agitated tone. She turned back to Amara and said. "Since you don't show signs of confusion, I am sure you want to rest. After all, you had a long day, and I am sure you have had a great deal of manhandling from Redfield. You need anything, just ask for Veronica or Dr. Adams, and I'll get you what you need. We'll be waking you up every so often to check on you. Even a mild concussion can be bad news. Try not to be too grumpy when we wake you, hm?"

"Thank you, Ms. Veronica,” Amara responded with a weak smile. 

With Veronica's help, she was able to lay down comfortably. She was covered with a blanket and could feel herself drift off. Before she lost consciousness entirely, she heard the pair talking about her.

"Captain Redfield… When you rescued her, was she hot to the touch?" Veronica asked, all irritation gone from her tone.

"Very. She even burned my glove when we first found her," Chris said, voice grim. "Startled all of us, including her. Why? Do you recognize what happened from somewhere?"

"No,” Veronica responded. "No. None similar to this. However, there was an incident I remember reading about years ago in a different country… Bloody hell…. Where was it…"

Obviously unable to think of the article, Veronica let out a tired sigh.

"I can't remember,” she said after a moment. “It might be nothing. Anyway, I must go check on my other patients. You should try and rest, Captain."

"I will," Chris responded. "Regardless, thank you for mentioning the incident. If we can find more information on how this st, then it may help save more lives. Please let me know if you remember anything else."

"Of course,” Veronica said as she walked away. "Rest well, Captain. I'll be back within the hour to check on her." 

Chapter Text

*Lorraine POV*

Ow. 

Shit. 

My head was killing me. What the ever-loving fuck? I rubbed at my head and relaxed when I didn't feel any blood. Didn't mean I hadn't bashed my head at some point. The pain of a head injury was a Hel of a lot different compared to the pain of a migraine. External impact pain compared to internal 'who put a jackhammer in my skull and turned it on' sort of difference. 

I opened my eyes and frowned, squinting into the darkness of the room around me. Where the Hel was I? And why was everything so dark? I tried to think of where I could be. The last thing I could remember was camping with my husband out in the mountains and… Wait a second. I sniffed at the air and grimaced. 

Is… Is this a hospital? I thought to myself. 

I could smell antiseptic in the air along with all the other horrible smells associated with hospitals, but there was no light to see by. 

A power outage, maybe? But that didn’t really make any sense either. Any decent hospital had one or more backup generators. Generators that would have been activated by now. Right? I pushed myself to my feet and started forward, almost stumbling at the odd slanting to the floor. I made my way up the incline, frowning to myself. Wheelchair access ramp, maybe? Felt a little bit too sharp an angle for that, but what did I know?

Wait... I froze and tilted my head to the side. Who was that groaning in the distance? Did someone need help? What I needed to do was find a flashlight and quick. Something wasn’t right. Those residual instincts from my youth, little thief that I was twenty years ago for shits and giggles, was screaming out 'danger, danger!' in my head. And not the ‘oh shit, cops!’ sort of danger either. 

This was the ‘there’s something bigger nearby that might actually fucking kill me’ sort of danger that I got on occasion when there had been muggers or more violent folk about. I placed my hand against the nearest wall and followed it to the door. From there, I stepped outside and saw sunlight in the distance to my left. Perfect. It was still daylight out. I'd just be inside one of the inner rooms. 

The hairs on the back of my neck rose the closer I got to the groaning. It was disturbing. Add to that the fact that I had started to hear the distinct sound of flesh tearing and ripping and eating noises? Nope. No, and not only that but, Hel No. Swallowing roughly, I turned my happy little ass around and started down a different hallway. This was turning into some horror movie-level shit right now, and that was not cool. 

I reached another break in the halls and started down toward where I saw a brighter bit of daylight, only to freeze. A small whimper escaped my throat as the tall, rotting, moving corpse of a woman rounded the corner with a groan. I backed up a few steps. Movement caught my eye to my left. Instinct had me moving before I could think, but clawed hands caught and tore at my shirt. Containing a shriek by firmly biting down on my tongue, I wrenched free and darted down the halls back the way I came. I found an empty room and closed then barricaded the door. 

The scuffling sounds of movement drew closer... and then faded away. An hour, and one successful search for a dim-bulb flashlight later and I ducked out of the room and back down the hallway, listening carefully for any sounds of movement or groaning. I found a straight shot to the hospital entrance, and thankfully there were no more… things around. 

What is the Hel is going on!? I thought wildly. This… This can't be possible.

I kept telling myself that what I'd seen couldn't be real. That it was just a dream. It had to be nothing more than a really bad dream. I'd wake up soon enough and joke around with my husband about watching too many zombie flicks and playing too many horror genre games. We’d joke about it all in the morning and continue to enjoy our time camping in the woods. Then we'd head home where I could hug my ferrets… I mean, seriously. What else could it be but another silly, horror dream brought on by a far too active imagination? 

Right?

I mean, a dream would explain the weirdness of how I got here. Appearing in the middle of a fucking zombie-infested hospital right after seeing a... It would explain the… The big... What I remembered seeing before waking up here. Right? I stopped in the main lounge area at the hospital entrance and placed a hand to the wall to steady myself. 

Okay. Okay, I needed to stop and breathe. Breathe and don't panic . I almost burst into helpless giggles and clapped a hand over my mouth, wishing I had a fucking towel of all things. Thanks, Douglas Adams. I took a slow, calming breath and forced the hysterical giggles down as firmly as possible. 

Panicking will get you dead, I thought to myself. Panicking will get you so dead. Need to think. Need to take stock of things and… right. First things first. Safe shelter, food, and water. Nowhere in a zombified town is safe shelter, so get food and water and go . From there, I can... oh. Oh, shit.

I managed to shove the thing that attacked me off and had run, but… Okay. It had torn up my shirt all to Hel. Did it bite me? Scratch me? Most stories have the zombie virus, curse, whatever , spread by bite or bodily fluids. If not in the air itself. Gods, I hoped it wasn't airborne. I needed to find a safe place to duck into with a mirror to do a once-over. It didn’t feel like I was hurt, but adrenaline did funny things to a person's awareness when it came to injury awareness and shit. 

A glance outside showed me that there was a gas station across the street. That worked well enough. Decent cover for a bit if it was empty. And possible clean food and water if it hadn’t been raided yet. The lights were on too. Which was strange. Why did the gas station have power but the Hospital not? Edge of two grids? Maybe? Or was the Hospital backup set to fail on purpose? Not impossible. Not a good sign for later either if that was the case. 

I dashed across the street after checking that it was clear. The station was easy enough to enter, though I did reach up to rip off the damned bells before they could jingle and get the zombies' attention. Thankfully, it was empty of anyone living or unliving. That was a plus. And it had a bathroom door that could lock from the inside and had a functional mirror. That was good too. I could check myself over without worrying about being jumped. A quick bit of twisting around to check my shoulder later and… No wounds? No wounds. Not even a fucking scratch. Just torn up clothing. 

Okay. I'm okay. Not bitten, I thought to myself with a relieved sigh as I leaned against the sink. My hands were shaky and... I shook my head and slipped out of the bathroom. Breakdowns were for later. I started looking through the stock in the store. Okay. So how do I get out of this? Gotta get out of the City first. That’s the smart thing. Wait, no. Food and water first. Fill up a backpack with non-perishable foods and bottled water. Easy enough, the gas station has a ton of shit that I can use. And there are some simple backpacks too… Wait, back-to-school sale? I… no. Don’t think about it. Don’t fucking think about it. Just grab supplies. 

And to deal with the Zombies, I’d just… I’d just have to remember to cause heavy cranial damage, right? Destroy the brain, stop the zombie. Easy peasy, right? 

Sure. 

Easy.

Stop wasting time, Ca… no , I shook my head violently as I grabbed one of the backpacks. Lorraine. I need to be Lorraine right now. I can’t be the goody-two-shoes who follows the law and does her best to be nice and kind and... I need to be the Lorraine that I was in High School. The loner who could take care of herself and always had a knife on her just in case. 

Speaking of weapons… I knew that I needed to find a good, sturdy weapon. Something quiet . And not just that, it needed to be something heavy enough to smash heads in but light enough for me to carry… oh. I paused as I moved toward the back and grinned. That'll do for now. Old ass, heavy steel folding chair laying knocked over just behind the counter? Shield and weapon all in one. I'd be taking that with me for sure!

That and a decent pocket knife from the front desk display. Nice quality blades too. Not the crappy display pieces you usually find, but actual knives that you could use in the wild. 

Alright… Food, water, weapons. That’s good , I thought with a grim nod. Now to get the Hel out of Dodge.

Honestly, what I had found was likely going to be it for a while. I didn't see any gun shops or dedicated weapons shops. Besides, guns were a big no-no right now because of the noise. I slipped back outside, head on a swivel as I tried to keep my eyes peeled for more zombies. As I made my way down the city streets, I found myself freezing in fear and incredulousness when a pharmacy came into view.

Ah, shit. Please tell me I didn’t see what I thought I saw… I thought, looking away briefly in the hopes that, when I looked back, the sign above a nice-looking pharmacy had changed. It didn't. Nope. That’s the gods damned Umbrella symbol over the pharmacy. And just below it… yeah, signs out, but that definitely reads ‘Umbrella Pharmaceuticals.’ Fuck me, are you serious? Umbrella ? 

I had either landed in another world where Umbrella was real, or I was, again, dreaming. If it was the former, then... What the fucking Hel!? Why couldn’t it have been one of the other worlds with zombies? I mean, zombies are simple. Most of the time. In some stories, they were just slow walking clusters of death. The big threat was just the sheer number of them, and if you were smart, you could avoid the mass and loop around them to safety. The World War Z movie had the fast fuckers that were just… Nope. Yeah. Okay, I was glad I didn’t land there , dream or not. 

But here? A world where there were bio-weapons like the damned Tyrant, Mr. X, the damned Lickers and Las Plagas and Uroborus and the Cadou? All of those creatures were fucking walking nightmares that were as varied as they were monstrous. 

Gods dammit… Loki. Here's hoping you’re watching out for me. I thought a little hysterically. I rubbed my face and stifled a laugh. Fuck. Things are bad enough that I'm praying to the family's old patron… Yaaaaay.

Gods, but this City was an absolute mess. At least it wasn’t Raccoon City, though. Or I didn’t think it was. Nothing looked right for it to be that. Raccoon City was in the mountains. A forested area. At least if the games could be trusted to be accurate. This place looked like it was in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere in the middle of the desert. The weather was almost comfortable. Autumn probably. Or early spring? Either way, if this wasn't Raccoon City, then where in the Hel was I? I mean, I knew that there were supposed to be other outbreaks here and there. Quieter ones in isolated areas. 

Perhaps this was one of those spots?

Raccoon City was an accident. I remembered that much. It had been a major city that Umbrella had built up and then used to their advantage, yeah, but they hadn’t been planning on an outbreak. They sure as Hel took advantage of the situation, though. The story never really went over details regarding the other minor outbreaks that happened here and there. Mainly because Umbrella knew how to target easily contained cities. 

And the City I was in? Definitely a small town. The only notable buildings were what looked like a City Hall building, the Hospital, and a Church off to the side. Everything else around the area was small shops and good-looking homes. Small town, but good money. 

Honestly, it was probably a good idea to head back to that little gas station and get more water. More food. Maybe even rest for a little bit. It was cleared of zombies. At least for the moment. Easy to defend. Ish. If I just… Wait. Gunshots? Who the Hel was shooting? That’s… shit, that was going to just attract the damned things to that area! 

Maybe I could get to the person in time and warn them to stop firing their gun off like a damned idiot…!

I darted through the streets as quietly as I could manage. Several alleyways were empty, making it easier to get close to the idiot shooting at the damned things. The shots were consistent, at least. And there was no screaming. Two shots each time, then a few moments of silence, followed by two more shots. Someone knew what the fuck they were doing when it came to their shots. Head and then heart? Probably. So… cop, military, ex-military, or mercenary? Only people I could think of who did double-taps like that. 

I darted through the various alleyways and damn near walked into a wall of zombies, all making a beeline for the gunshots in the distance. I bit back a curse as a handful heard me skid to a stop, turning my way. More gunshots sounded, drawing most of the horde back toward the sound, but at least a dozen kept heading my way. Cursing under my breath, I spun around and darted back the way I'd come. 

Dammit! That was a fucking dead end. Emphasis on the dead . Why in the Hel did I think trying to find a survivor was a good idea? Whoever it was might even be a horrible person! Or people. Murderers or gang members or something else! Stupid! Now I had a decent-sized mass of the fuckers chasing after me all because I had to be a noble-minded idiot.

I knew that I needed to keep the damned things at bay. Thin them down. Get them in a solid choke point and smash their heads in with the chair. I saw a good spot a block back as I was trying to approach. Now where the Hel-There! That alleyway. It was narrow enough that they could only come at me two at a time, and it had a fence halfway down it, along with a large trash bin that had been shoved lengthwise down the alley for storage. That, or some enterprising individual had managed to push the thing down the narrow alley.

  I just had to reach the bin and climb up on top of it. I could cull the numbers down a bit… or just jump over the fence since it still looked clear on the other side. Yeah, that was probably the safer bet. Zombies were dumb like that. Couldn't climb well either.  

Up we go, I thought as I reached the bin. I scrambled on top of it, throwing my chair over the fence before leaping over myself. The rattling noise drew the zombies down the alley behind me.

I stumbled a few steps as I landed, but didn't twist anything, thank the gods. Grabbing the chair, I bolted for the end of the alleyway and ran into a tall, muscular form. I fell back with a startled hiss, immediately thinking that I'd been dumb enough to run headfirst into another zombie, and lashed out with the chair. A strong hand caught the steel chair, tugging harsh enough to almost tear the damn thing out of my hands. I stumbled and almost lost my footing but managed to catch myself in time. 

We both froze and stared at each other for a moment.

Turned out Mister Shooter McShooty was Albert fucking Wesker. Or at least, it looked like it could be Wesker. Same build and facial structure they had used for the game and the more realistic artwork, just you know more… human, I guess? None of that uncanny valley shit that had your brain automatically pegging something as CGI. There was even a fine layer of blonde stubble on his chin like he hadn't had the chance to shave that day.

He seemed honestly surprised to see me alive. If the raised brows over his dark shades were any indication. Probably surprised to see anyone alive, actually. I was pretty damned surprised to see him, too. I mean, not like I expected to run into Albert Wesker in person in the middle of gods be damned nowhere. The tall, lean-muscled blonde was even decked out in a cop uniform. Not STARS, though. No, it was just a regular old cop uniform. 

Part of me wanted to break into a hysterical giggle fit. The logical part of me clamped down on that urge. Hard . One wrong move and I was dead. I was not about to risk this not being a dream if he was running around. 

My thoughts raced about a mile a minute. Was he working undercover? Possibly. The man had a shit ton of undercover missions under his belt even before he got, or would get, away from Umbrella. As a ‘Wesker child,’ this guy was supposed to have been busy in the stories. And was this pre or post-Raccoon City? I found myself wondering what fucking year it was and almost stumbled again when he let go of the chair. He offered me a smirk that almost might have been reassuring if I didn't know who the fuck he was.

“Are you injured, miss?” he asked in a low but serious voice. He sounded like D. C. Douglas, only the accent wasn’t as thick as what the actor had used. Wesker glanced down the alleyway to see the zombies slapping uselessly at the fence and trash bin and then back at me with a raised brow and a pointed look at my damaged shirt. Snarling, hungry noises filled the air. 

“N-no, sir,” I responded quickly, taking a few steps back. I shifted a bit to show that my shoulder was uninjured, but didn’t turn fully away from him. I swallowed roughly, watching his movements with a wary eye as he looked over my undamaged skin with a critical eye. “I’ve watched enough zombie flicks to know to avoid getting bitten or clawed up or something else just as dumb…”

“Have you now?” he asked with a low chuckle. 

Wesker looked me over again, and I shifted the make-shift weapon around in my hands nervously. His eyes landed on the stuffed backpack that I was wearing and the still attached price tags. His lips quirked briefly upward in amusement. 

"If this was a normal day, miss, I'd be bringing you in for looting," he said in a tone that was dryly amused. Almost mocking.

"Yeah, well," I waved a hand toward the noisy zombies. "Not exactly a normal day at the office for anyone, is it, sir?"

"Not in this town at least," he said as if joking. 

Okay, why wasn't he killing me? Random person on the street in the middle of a zombie attack. If he was here to make sure people didn't live… no, I'd already be dead if that was the case. He'd have shot me as soon as I turned the corner. Bait for later, maybe? 

Wouldn't put it past him. 

"Um… so, was… that you that I heard shooting, sir?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes and no," he said with a dark chuckle. "It’s a recording of my shooting playing over the speakers of a nearby building. The… zombies … are attracted to loud noises. It made for a good distraction while I left the area."

"Right," I said with a blink and a nod. Okay. That made sense. A good trick to remember for later too. 

Rather than say anything more, he nodded his head and signaled for me to stay quiet and follow after him. I waited for him to take the lead and then moved after him at a wary pace. My head was stuck on a swivel, but my eyes kept shooting back toward him. Sure, he’s acting nice enough and everything. Playing the role of Good Cop for some gods damned reason. But I was not about to let him walk behind me. Not yet. Even if he was the best chance for me to get out of here alive, there was only one question I needed to figure out the answer to… and soon.

How the fuck did I convince him not to kill me once we get out of the City…?

Chapter Text

*Amara POV*

It was hot. The flames burned harshly around her, and Amara could see the scattered burned corpses surrounding her.  She backed up, fear flooding through her. An indescribable amount of pain suddenly pulsed through her arms as the flames lashed out at her. She tried to turn away from the fire and, as she did so, Amara could see the burnt corpse of Tanya and her other friends behind her. Charred skin and bone were all that was left of her friend's face. Fear filled her as Tanya opened her mouth and screamed.

“Why did you leave me!?”

Amara let out a blood-curdling scream. Hands began to swarm over her body, and a vaguely familiar voice called out her name.

“Amara! Amara!! Wake up!”

Amara’s eyes snapped open. Her vision was blurry with tears. She began to panic and struggled against the hands holding her down. A fearful keen escaped her throat.

“Amara! Amara!” a different but very familiar female voice said.

Amara blinked rapidly, her vision slowly clearing. Her eyes zeroed in on the face above her. The face of her best friend. She froze for a moment in disbelief and then reared up with a sobbing cry, engulfing Tanya in a hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry!” Amara sobbed, holding onto Tanya for dear life.

“It's alright. It's not your fault. I am so glad you’re safe,” Tanya said, holding onto Amara just as tightly.

The flap of the tent opened a few minutes later. Chris and Veronica entered the tent, worry written clear upon both of their faces. The pair looked at the hugging women, and they both relaxed a moment later. There was a hint of relief in their eyes. Veronica approached them with a small smile on her lips.

“I’m glad to see that you two know each other. Ms. Williams, I would ask that next time you refrain from running off from a medical tent when injured, alright?" she scolded gently. Tanya nodded her assent with a sheepish grin. Veronica looked at Amara. "I assume you had a bad dream?”

Amara looked at the woman, nodding from where she had her head resting on Tanya’s shoulder.

“Those bloody well suck, don’t they?” the older woman offered with a kind smile. “Well then, Ms. Garcia, I need to check your wounds.”

Tanya shuffled slightly out of the way, allowing Amara to sit up fully, but she stayed sitting next to her on the cot. Tanya’s eyes watched Veronica like a hawk as the doctor gently took off the bandage that she had placed around Amara’s head and arm. As the doctor examined the stitches, Veronica made a noise like she had noticed something off. Amara glanced down and blinked as she noticed it too. Her wounds seemed to be healing far quicker than normal, especially after just an hour and without any first aid spray.

“Your wounds are looking good. I’ll wrap them up in new bandages and let you try and get some more rest,” Victoria said as she began to bandage up Amara’s arms and head once more. “We should be getting specialized medical supplies within the hour, and that will help.”

“I’m sorry, ladies," he said as Veronica finished re-binding Amara’s wounds, "but I'm going to have to ask you both some questions about what happened-”

Chris was interrupted by Jacobs entering the tent. The other man had a panicked expression on his face.

“Captain, we have a problem!”Jacobs said in a strained voice. “There’s something big on the ra-”

Before Jacobs could finish his sentence, a sudden rumble sent the ground roiling beneath their feet. It was almost like an earthquake, which was more than a little strange for the area as they didn’t usually get quakes like this. There was an explosion of sound, like a bunch of rocks and dirt had been sent flying, but not as if a grenade had gone off. Screaming and the sounds of gunfire suddenly filled the air. Amara watched as Veronica, Jacobs, and Chris ran out of the tent, leaving Amara and Tanya behind.

“What the fuck is even happening?” Tanya muttered, looking at Amara in confusion.

Amara shook her head, also confused. Tanya stood up to hesitantly move toward the tent flap. She took a deep breath and then stepped outside. Amara got up from the bed, swaying, but managed to steady herself before following Tanya. Outside was complete chaos. Soldiers ran around in an almost blind panic, but Chris was steady and barked out orders from the front lines. People seemed to calm down as he called out orders, mainly because they had something to do. Something to focus on. Spotlights lit up the left side of the ruined opera house. Amara could see that all of their weapons were aimed in that direction as well. 

What were they aiming at? Amara thought. She could just make out Chris yelling at the men to keep themselves steady.

"What the fuck is going on? Can I get fucking clue?" Tanya growled, not quite willing to step towards the mess but definitely looking annoyed. 

"Ma'am, please stay back-" a soldier nearby began to say, moving toward them and trying to guide them back into the medical tent. Tanya wasn’t having any of it. 

“What the hell is going on?" she snapped, turning to glare at the poor soldier. "We deserve some answers, for fucks sake!"

Amara couldn't help but feel pity for the man as Tanya started yelling. She had a pretty strong set of lungs on her. She jolted as a crackling sound filled the air and turned to watch with fearful awe as the front of the Opera house began to collapse. The rumblings of what seemed to be another earthquake filled the area, and everyone nearby had to brace themselves. Amara watched in utter disbelief as something caused the front of the Opera house to explode outwards. Amara and Tanya raised their arms to cover their faces and ducked to the ground as debris pelted their raised limbs.

As the debris lessened, everyone slowly lowered their arms and looked toward the building. The rumblings started up again, though this time, it sounded like some type of heavy thing was coming toward the large crowd of soldiers. It kind of reminded Amara of the noise they used when making that old nineties film. The one about a kind of burrowing monster. Tanya let out a screech of noise and pointed toward the dust cloud.

“Oh, hell no!!” she shouted in disbelief. “What the fuck is that?!”

Amara looked around, confused. Her eyes followed toward where Tanya was pointing. Terror gripped her at the sight. Amid the cloud was the head of an extremely large diamondback snake. Its' scales were deep black, and red boils seemed to cover the snake in almost random places. However, that wasn’t the worst part. As the dust cleared, more of the creature's form was revealed. The snake was connected to the body of a large brown scorpion. The snake itself had somehow replaced the scorpion's tail!

Amara watched, rooted to the spot as the scorpion's pincers opened and closed with menacing clicks. The massive beast began to lumber its way out of the remaining dust cloud, crushing bits of rubble beneath its massive legs. It moved with the confidence of a predator sure of its success. From what Amara could tell, the beast stood nearly thirty feet tall, counting the tail. The main part of the body was nearly just as wide if you counted the things pincers! The snake opened its mouth and let out an inhuman, twisted hissing roar that revealed deformed fangs. Amara's eyes widened at the sight of what looked to be acid dripping from the fangs. The ground beneath the beast started hissing and melting as the acid landed.

"Open fire! Take out that fucking BOW quickly before it gets to the city! Now!" Chris barked out,  the rest of the soldiers opened fire on the strange animal.

Amara watched in utter disbelief and horror as the beast let out another angry hiss. Its long snake-like tail lashed out toward the soldiers, knocking several of them over. Its massive, twisted jaw opened wide and caught a running soldier. Within moments the man was swallowed whole, his screams silenced. The scorpion rushed forward, catching another pair of soldiers in its' large pincers, cutting the men in half despite their armor. Amara felt her strength leave her and fell to her knees. What could they possibly do against something like that? She’d heard horror stories about Racoon City. Who hadn’t by now? But this was worse.

Tears streamed down her face as she watched the carnage continue. She could hear Tanya calling out to her, but her friend sounded so far away. Her eyes locked on the beast's large, swaying snake-head, those bulbous red eyes focusing on her and flashing red. Before she knew it, the beast had started to charge toward her. Thankfully, one of the tanks slammed into the thing's side, slowing it down and making it roar in pain. Tanya grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly to her feet and giving her a shake.

"Amara!" Tanya's voice was strained but firm. "Get up, girl! We need to find a way out of here!"

Amara blinked back to herself and looked at her friend with wide eyes. She nodded shakily. They began to make their way past soldiers, past the tents. Tanya abruptly pushed Amara to the side. Amara let out a startled cry as she hit the ground. She looked up just as the tank landed between them and rolled several more feet before coming to a stop. Thanks to Tanya's quick thinking, both of them had narrowly avoided being crushed by the tank, but now they were separated by the burning tank. Amara pushed herself to her feet, and she started toward the tank, hoping to help if anyone had survived. Her eyes flicked back and forth, nervously watching for any signs of the large beast. 

Sadly, the tank exploded. Amara was flung backward, flames licking at her skin and clothes. Little bits of the shrapnel cut into her flesh, forcing a yelp past her lips. Thankfully, nothing larger hit her form. Lucky her. Amara groaned and struggled back to her feet, her ears ringing. She swayed, shock filling her as she looked around. 

A loud, hissing roar filled the air again, driving away thoughts of tears for those killed. Amara spun around to face the source and almost screamed. The damned thing was once more heading right for her. Why? Why was it focusing on her?! Amara quickly turned around and bolted away from the creature as it bulldozed its way through a line of soldiers firing on it. More screams filled the air. 

Amara glanced around desperately and noticed a Jeep parked off to the side. She ran over to it and looked in through the passenger side window. Oh, thank god. The keys were still in the ignition. She darted around to the driver’s side and hopped inside, turning the keys. The engine started up, and she almost cried in relief. That relief was short-lived as she glanced up. The snake beast was still gearing for her. Amara shifted the vehicle into reverse and hit the gas, the vehicle jerking backward. She spun the vehicle around and shifted back into drive, once more hitting the gas to try to get up to full speed and get away from the nightmare chasing her. 

She needed to get away. To get… no. She needed to lead it away. The thing was focused on her, and if it was focused on her, it wouldn’t reach the city. She didn’t want anyone else to die. Amara spun the wheel and took a side street that would lead out into the desert wilderness. She glanced into the rearview mirror and noticed several people, soldiers, trying to flag her down, but she shook her head and pressed on. 

Amara didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. Not when the beast really did keep following her like she’d hoped it would. Like she’d feared it would. Amara reached the abandoned streets of the old mining town, weaving around buildings as best she could to keep the thing confused. Whenever the damned thing got close, the massive snake-head lashed out to try to catch the Jeep. Amara was barely able to swerve each time to avoid the deadly fangs. She caught sight of the old city exit sign and bee-lined for it, hoping to get some more distance between her and the surprisingly fast monster. 

As she turned onto the dirt roads, her luck ran out. The snake-scorpion thing was intelligent. When she tried to swerve to the left to avoid the strike, the snake-head twisted about and latched onto the roof of the Jeep. The force of the impact and the speeds she was going meant that the roof was ripped off, the Jeep jumping into the air as the metal tore away with a screech of sound. Amara opened the door and leaped from the vehicle just as the snake-head lashed out again, sending the vehicle flying to roll over a dozen feet away.  

She bolted for the fallen corpse of an old tree, ducking behind it. Thankfully, the creature's attention seemed to be focused on the Jeep, as it kept biting and ripping into it. It had missed her desperate jump. Amara bolted away from the area as fast as she could. Sadly, she didn’t get far. The Jeep hit the ground a half dozen feet ahead of her, forcing her to skid and stumble to a halt. She spun around, eyes wide, and looked up at the massive snake-head which had lowered down so that its eyes were level with her own. The tongue flicked out at her.

Fear gripped her heart as she backed away slowly. The large head eased closer as she moved back. She froze as she bumped into the undercarriage of the Jeep. Trapped, she was trapped. She slid down to her knees, hands raised in front of her as if to ward off a blow. The snake-head reared back, ready to strike, and heat flooded through her. Fire launched from her hands, much as it had earlier, and slammed into the main body of the monster. It screeched and fell back, writhing in pain. Another larger explosion hit the scorpion-like body, and Amara blinked at her hands, wondering if she’d caused that blast as well. 

Her ears finally registered the sounds of a tank approaching, and her head jerked up and to the side. It came to a stop, launching another blast that forced the beast back and away from her. The top cover opened, and the man from earlier, Chris, leaped out. The creature hissed at the tank, snake-head lashing out, and Chris managed to jump off in time to avoid the biting jaws. The tank backed up rapidly after that, launching another burst into the thing to keep its attention. Chris ran over to her side, gently but firmly grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet.

“Up you go!” Chris shouted. “Come on, we need to get you out of here!”

Amara looked up at Chris with dazed eyes. She stumbled but caught herself. Another explosion filled the air, and the pair turned to see that the tank had caught the snake-head directly. The jaw was damaged and hanging loosely as it flailed about. Sadly, it didn’t seem to slow the beast down any. The main body started lashing out with its pincers to try to damage and flip the tank. 

“Shit- Jacobs, keep firing at the damn thing!” Chris barked into his radio. He grabbed Amara’s hand and led her to a large rock formation to use as cover. “Stay here.”

Amara wanted to reach out and tell him to abandon her and flee. Her words died on her lips as he ran off, pulling a grenade from his belt and throwing it at the beast. The tank rolled around the area, working on getting a decent shot in as Chris ran interference. The giant scorpion spun around, one massive pincer catching Chris in the chest with a glancing blow that sent him flying back several feet. Amara covered her mouth, blocking off the scream that threatened to escape her. He wasn’t getting up. 

Amara felt helpless and looked around for something, anything to do to help. A light bulb went off in her head at the sight of the Jeep. She darted out toward it and then started shouting to get the beast's attention away from Chris. The thing charged at her with an angry roar. She waited until the last possible second and dodged to the side. The upper part of the snake's mouth got caught in the twisted metal of the Jeep, causing it to flail about angrily. She used that time to run over to Chris’ form, shaking him. 

“Ugh… anyone catch the plates of that bus…?” he asked in a strained voice as he woke up and sat up. 

Chris looked behind her and then suddenly grabbed her in his arms and rolled them to the side. Amara felt the wind of something heavy passing quickly over her head and let out a bitten-off shriek. Chris yanked her to her feet and started running, one hand raising to his radio.

“Dammit! Jacobs, aim for the Jeep stuck in its mouth!” Chris yelled into the mic before veering off and forcing Amara down behind a boulder with his form covering her own.

Another mighty boom filled the air as a round struck the Jeep, causing a massive explosion. Amara winced at the noise, but no roars of pain filled the air. Instead, wet splats sounded around her, and Chris made a disgusted noise above her as something hit him. She looked up and noticed a piece of the monster sliding off of his back. Amara couldn’t help but let out strained little giggles at his expression as he sat up, allowing her up as well. 

“Come on,” he said with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. He grinned at her. “Let’s get out of here and back to camp. While I appreciate the distraction, don’t run off like that again. We’re here to keep you safe.”

She nodded as he helped her to her feet, still giggling as the adrenaline started to fade. The tank pulled to a stop nearby, opening up and allowing Jacobs, Veronica, and even Tanya, out. Though it made sense with Tanya’s military family background. The girl had always wanted to be in a tank. Chris started toward the others, raising his hand in greeting. Amara paused and looked at the fallen creature, most of its body blown away, stress giggles finally sputtering out. Her gut was churning. Something wasn’t right.

“Ms. Garcia! Come on!” Chris called out when he noticed that Amara wasn’t following him.

Amara turned to face him and waved. She slowly walked toward the group, still feeling uneasy. Something moved behind her, and she froze. Before she could turn around, a massive weight clipped her in the side and sent her flying. Shouts filled the air, and she blinked up at the sky. A shaky hand rose to touch her chest and came away red. She was bleeding. A shadow covered her form, and she stared up at the half-ruined claw of the beast. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Enough. Enough. Enough! She’d had enough, dammit! Heat filled her. Angry, vengeful heart. A scream of pain and anger spilled from her lips. The last thing she saw before her vision went blank was the mutilated form of the scorpion beast falling back, its entire body on fire, as the others fired their weapons at it.

Chapter Text

*Lorraine POV*

"You're not from around these parts, miss," Wesker said matter-of-factly once we were far enough away from the distracted horde of zombies that talking wouldn't draw their attention. "Where did you come from?"

"I…" I bit my lip and shrugged my shoulders, shifting the backpack nervously. "Washington. Well, California originally. If you're asking how I got here? Not a damned clue. I woke up in the hospital. I don't even know what town this is or the state…"

"Hm… interesting," he glanced back at me, brows drawn together. He then turned down one of the side streets.

It took me a few moments for me to realize he was leading us back toward the hospital. Nervousness filled me, but I followed, careful to keep up with him. He switched out his gun for a long ass combat knife that looked about ten, eleven inches long. I could all but hear my husband in my head cracking a joke about the blonde compensating for something and shook my head to clear away the unwanted thoughts. This was not the time for that kind of gutter minded humor. Nor the pain at not having him here with me...

We entered the hospital and weaved in and out through the hallways, Wesker in the lead while I tried to watch our backs to make sure nothing snuck up on us. Thankfully, it looked like the gunshots had been loud enough to lure away most of the zombies in the lower level of the hospital. We only had to kill three of the damned things. Also, his flashlight was far brighter than the piece of trash I'd found, so I had an easier time avoiding the debris on the ground. 

He stopped outside of a room labeled 'six-oh-six' and flashed the beam of light into the room. He glanced back at me and gave a small head nod toward the interior.

“Is this where you woke up, miss?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

“Maybe? Didn't exactly check the room num-” I started as I peeked inside the room. I froze and let out a stuttered breath. “What the Hel?”

The room looked like it had been melted down. Like, almost straight out of The Terminator -style melted, only with a wider circle. Wesker pointed the flashlight up and I followed the light, seeing that the damage extended into the second floor rooms above. A confused noise escaped me.

"W-what?" I squeaked in a strangled voice.

"I was hoping you might be able to tell me," he said in a dry, but bemused tone. "The power in the hospital was cut days ago, and yet there was a large, multi-hued burst of light from the hospital that could be seen from the other side of town."

"I…" I fell silent and shook my head, looking over the mess in the room. "You… came looking for the cause? In this kind of a situation?"

If the room hadn't been dark as fuck when I'd arrived, the damage would have been obvious. 

"I found myself curious enough to investigate, yes," he said, lips curling up into a brief smirk.

  I figured at that point that the only reason he hadn’t killed me right off the bat was that he wanted to figure out where the Hel I’d come from and why it looked like I'd appeared as if from an old movie. Well, old to me, depending on the year. Movie came out in 'Eighty-four. If it was even released here, that is. I shook my head again. Getting distracted wouldn't help any.

Shouldn't have surprised me that he'd want to investigate something so strange. He was supposed to be pragmatic like that. Always looking for ways to gather information and increase the potential success of his goals.  

“I… look, I don’t understand what happened. What is happening,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. I looked back at the dip in the ground as Wesker's flashlight passed over it once more. “I was camping with my husband in the Cascade Mountains, then there was a massive explosion in the distance. I… It was… a… A mushroom cloud. You know the kind I'm talking about, right?”

“Hm,” he hummed understandingly and said nothing beyond that. 

When I fell silent, he waved a hand at me, signalling for me to continue as he walked into the room and started looking around. Looking for additional clues or just acting like he was? I couldn’t quite tell. At this point, I was a bundle of confusion and nerves and just… I wanted to go home . 

“Anyway, my husband saw something behind me, I guess?" I said with a small shrug, hand tightening on the legs of the chair I was carrying. I ran my fingers through my loose hair and frowned at the long strands between my fingers. "He shoved me back and… The last thing I saw was a whirl of colors and different vistas around me, and then boom, I woke up here, in the dark, in an equally bad nightmare of a situation."

Ugh. Why hadn’t I put my hair up sooner? If a zombie or something grabbed me by the hair, I was toast. I grimaced, resting the folding chair against my leg, and grabbed a spare hair-tie from my pocket to quickly put my hair up into a rough bun. Wesker turned and watched my movements with a tilt of his head. Even behind the shades, I could tell that he approved of me putting up my hair the way I did. 

“Well, maybe not as bad,” I amended after a moment, hand falling to rest on my make-shift weapon. I began to tap my nails nervously against the steel and just as quickly stopped when it felt like he was glaring at my hand. Right. Enhanced hearing. Maybe. “You don't survive that kind of blast coming at you from close quarters. Even if you were miles out, the radiation would still reach you and leave you dying a slow and painful death. And zombie movies are popular, so… If this isn’t a damned dream, then depending on the type of Zombie, it can be easy to get away. Gives a gal a chance to survive, right?”

"A good assessment of the situation," he said, again smirking briefly at me. He moved toward the door. "Come along. There’s still a chance that others survived. We can examine what happened to you later if, as you say, you are not dreaming. Or, alternatively, insane.”

"Sounds like as good a plan as any. Though I’d argue that everyone’s insane,” I responded with a shrug. Again, I let Wesker take point, keeping my chair at the ready. He was still playing the role of Good Cop, so… Safe for now, right?

“And what makes you say that?” he asked with a hint of amusement ringing through his voice. 

“Well, because it’s true?” I said, following a few steps behind him. Crowding the Umbrella-trained super assassin was a bad idea. “I mean, everything and everyone is insane. The only thing that really matters is whether or not your brand of insanity happens to be socially acceptable during the time in which you exist.”

“What an interesting point of view,” he responded, letting out a low chuckle that sent a quick shiver down my spine. “Quiet now.”

I fell silent rather than say anything in acknowledgment. If the man said ‘quiet,’ it was probably best to stay quiet . And it was. A few zombies had stumbled their way down the stairs. Between the two of us, mostly him, we took them out and got back outside without any issue. 

"We should see if there are any other survivors," he said in a bland tone. That was probably code for ‘looking for the information that he needed.' "Keep close and stay quiet."

I nodded as he led us in the direction opposite of the way I'd originally gone. Quiet as a church mouse, as the saying went.

Sadly, I got really fucking stupid about twenty minutes later… 

We kept to the alleyways for the most part, weaving in between buildings and moving at a clipped pace. I was able to keep with him to an extent. I wasn't anywhere near combat fit, but I worked out regularly enough to have decent stamina. And I wasn't about to complain about our pace either. The adrenaline would only last me so long though, and he seemed to know that, holding up a hand when we reached an easily defendable alley. 

"Take a moment to rest and catch your breath," he ordered in a low voice.

"Right, thanks," I said. I wasn't huffing and puffing or anything, but it was nice to stop for a moment. I pulled out a bottle of water from my bag and held it toward him. "Did you want one, sir?"

"I'm fine for the moment," he said with a dry chuckle as he started toward the other end of the alley. 

I shrugged and went to open the bottle, but a faint noise from above caught my attention. I glanced up just in time to see a zombie stumble its way off the roof above our heads. The damned thing was going to literally fall on top of him.

“Wesker!” I shouted and lunged for him, shoving him forward as hard as I could. 

I twisted as I hit his back, forcing my body into a sideways turn that allowed me to just barely avoid getting caught beneath the falling zombie. It let out a growling moan and lunged upward, broken hands trying to grab my legs. I brought the back of the chair down hard on its head, splattering bits of skull and brain matter over my steel-toed boots. I looked up to make sure he was okay… 

And froze.

His gun was pointed right at my head. He tilted his own head at me, expression blank, and then pointedly reached up to tap at the very much bare name tag on his uniform. I could feel the blood draining from my face. A sensation that was rapidly followed up by a sudden blush warming my skin back up. A rather dizzying one-two punch as I realized that I'd accidentally used his name when he hadn't bothered to introduce himself. 

I eased the chair onto the ground, slowly so it didn’t make noise, and held up my hands as I straightened up. His lips quirked up briefly in dark amusement.

“I do suggest that you explain yourself,” he said in a low voice that was pure threat. “Quickly.”

I think he would have killed me then and there on principle, but he was giving me a chance to talk. And, you know what...? Fuck it. He's not that bad of a guy right now. Oh, sure, he was a top member of Umbrella, or is, depending on the year, and had possibly infected himself by now, and… Okay, so he isn’t one of the good guys. 

At the least, it didn't look like he'd gone crazy with power just yet. Didn’t think of himself as a literal God . I could work with that. Yeah, sure, he was involved in some shady ass shit, a lot of shady ass shit if I was honest with myself, but he still had the potential to be more than an ego-maniac doomed to die in a volcano by eating a fucking rocket of all things. 

And that was a very stupid way to die. Cliche comic-book villain level stupid. 

“Okay, so remember how I said this all feels like a weird-ass dream?” I asked, swallowing roughly. He inclined his head in a slight nod. “There’s this story called Resident Evil , or Biohazard in Japan, and… Well, a guy who looks a lot like you and has the name ‘Albert Wesker’ is one of the main characters… And well, there are fucking zombies running around… And the fucking Umbrella Pharmacy a few blocks the other way...”

I stuttered briefly and nervously ran a hand over my hair. 

"Look, the Resident Evil series got pretty damned popular," I continued in a bit of a rush. I was rambling. I knew I was. I also had a fucking gun pointed at my head , so hopefully I could be forgiven for the loss of decorum. "Covered various outbreaks. T-virus, G-virus, Plaga, and a whole host of other shit. First story went over what happened with the T-virus and… Well, later the… the character Wesker died after infecting himself with a virus that wasn't exactly stable… and then he ate a rocket in the heart of a volcano…"

His brows both flew up at that.

"Look, this really, really feels like it should be a dream," I continued with a helpless flutter of my hands. Yeah, having a gun pointed at your head was a really big incentive to talk and talk quickly. "A really crazy, realistic dream. But… on the off chance it's not, I… I don't know, maybe I can help or something? Depending on what year it is…"

Wonder of wonders, he listened. Or at least decided to humor me. 

“What an interesting tale you're weaving for me. Let’s test this. It’s only fair, yes? Trial and error. Tell me what you know about me,” he said with a huff of dry amusement. “Something only I would know. Be it something I’ve done or said. If it helps, the year is Nineteen-ninety-nine.”

Well, alright then , I thought with a blink. I’ll take that opportunity with both hands and run with it, thank you very much.

“Nineteen-ninety... hm,” I tilted my head in thought, ticking my fingers off by lowering them against my palm. I did not , however, lower my hands. “Pretty sure Golgotha was in ‘ninety-eight, and you helped Ada escape with Vlad-something from… Rockfort Island…? But that’s all in ninety-eight, too. And Ada at least knows about that, so that’s out… Um. You’d started working with, what was the name, Javier? Cartel dude…? Wait, no. That’s Two-thousand and two or so. Getting ahead of things. I know Racoon City was an accident that Umbrella took full advantage of, and you and Birkin were supposed to leave the company together… There were even some really minor hints that Sherry might be your goddaughter, considering how close you and the Birkin's were purported to be… But… Okay, come on, think…"

A small, amused huff escaped him and I pinched the bridge of my nose in thought. Why was it that stress left a person so scatterbrained?

"Shit," I muttered in a low voice. "Something that only you would know… Well, your eyes are supposed to be all dragon-like, but I don’t think that counts... Oh, I know! The two of you assassinated Dr. Marcus together! You and Dr. Birkin, I mean. You'd gone in with a kill squad, but you two were supposed to just gather or remove information. They took credit for the kill, but you two actually did the deed and also pocketed a shit ton of information to help protect yourselves. Information you were supposed to have destroyed. I think I remember that right…? There wasn't a lot of detail about what kind of information you two obtained though…”

I frowned down at the top of my boots and then looked back up at him with a small shrug only to freeze. He'd shifted his head down so that I could see that his eyes were indeed the red and orange and yellow cat-slitted pupil irises that the game described him as having after the change. He pushed the glasses back up his nose and let out a thoughtful hum. 

“What do you know about Sherry Birkin?” he asked after a moment. “And do try to breathe and avoid rambling this time, hm?”

“I… sorry, sir,” I responded with a wince, trying to calm my heart and speak at a more normal pace. “With Sherry, if the story is right, then Leon Kennedy and Claire Redfield saved her life and helped stabilize the G-virus. She’ll supposedly have some pretty good regenerative abilities for the rest of her life. I don’t know how puberty is supposed to affect the virus or if it does anything at all to her. The story said Kennedy made a deal to keep her safe, as long as he works for the government.”

“And will she be?” he asked, tilting his head. "Safe, that is."

“Yes and no?” I answered with another helpless little shrug. “The story didn’t go into a lot of detail about her new home life, but she’s supposed to be in protective custody with a... a Director Simmons. And… Personally speaking, sir, I wouldn’t leave her with him if I could help it…”

“Why?” he asked. He was frowning now. “I know of Simmons. A decent civil servant if a bit focused on his work.”

“Because his team is supposed to develop a ‘C’ Virus using her blood,” I responded with a wince. “And he kinda goes nuts later when it comes to his lust for Ada Wong. I don’t quite remember how, but he literally turns his assistant Clara into an Ada Wong copy that looks and thinks like the real Ada, only one that's stupidly crazy for him.”

“Idiot,” Wesker said after a moment of tense silence, letting out a faintly perturbed sigh. “Anything else you’d like to share before I make my decision, miss…?”

“Lorraine Kvale,” I said, offering my middle name and maiden name hesitantly. He inclined his head slightly. I shifted and then shrugged. “Well, I suppose… Congratulations?”

“Pardon?” he asked in a dry voice, one sculpted brow raising. 

“Congratulations,” I said, holding out my hands in a small shrug. “It’s a boy.”

“What are you blathering about?” he asked, both brows furrowing in thought. He let out a huff a moment later. “Are you suggesting that I have a child ?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered with a small nod. “With a… fuck, did they ever give her a first name? A Dr. Muller from-”

“Dr. Phillia Muller, from Edonia,” he said, cutting me off. “I remember her.”

I had apparently bought myself some time, given that he abruptly lowered the gun and turned away. He paused for a moment before signaling for me to follow him again. I warily picked up the chair and moved after him, keeping a few paces behind him just as before, so that I didn’t crowd him. Wesker paused a few moments later and looked at me over his shoulder. 

“Do anything foolish, and you will regret surviving here as long as you have,” he said in a cold tone. “Am I understood, Lorraine ?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head quickly.

Just wonderful. I knew what Wesker likely meant by that. He would keep me with him, with the threat of torture hanging over my head like a guillotine if I tried to conceal anything or otherwise pulled something stupid to escape. Great. Just great. But… 

It would have to do. 

I had nothing here. Literally had no identity. I knew better than to give up the chance to live. Knew better than to piss him off and be one more corpse to be burnt… or shot if I ‘revived.’ Here's hoping my willingness to help would be enough to keep me alive in the long-term… 'cause I really didn't want to die in this place. Or be a test subject. Or… ugh. So many things could go wrong, but dammit… I wanted to live. I wanted to see if I could go home. If there was even a home to go back to. 

My life’s motto was really going to get one hell of a workout here; Hope for the best, plan for the worst, expect nothing...

Chapter Text

*Amara POV*

Amara felt like she was falling. She opened her eyes and looked around, seeing nothing but darkness. She let her eyes close, sinking into the falling sensation. Her body jolted weakly as it landed on something soft. It was nice, just laying there. Opening her eyes once more, she found herself surrounded by white. So much white. She blinked again and could make out the blurry image of a white ceiling. Her head lolled to the side, and she could barely make out the shapes of medical equipment next to her. A hospital. She was in the hospital. 

Shifting her head back made her wince. There was a faint tugging sensation at her nose. Her hand rose to brush away the sensation and found tubing. Oh. Oxygen tubes. She was gathering her energy to try to sit up when the door opened. A blurry form moved over to her side, eventually clearing into the form of Chris as he sat down next to her hospital bed. 

“Good to see you awake,” he said in a low voice. “You’ve been out of it for several days now.”

“Days?” Amara repeated weakly, her voice cracking at the lack of use.

“Yeah, days,” Chris said, patting her arm gently. “You’ve been out for about seventy-two hours now. Veronica is on her way and will be able to explain things.”

“You know… we really… need to stop meeting… in some form of a hospital,” Amara joked weakly after a moment of silence. 

Ugh. Talking was painful. She took a couple of slow, careful breaths and tried to will the pain away. She blinked up at Chris’ still slightly blurry form and squinted at him, trying to check for injuries. He’d taken a pretty bad blow too. Sadly, other than the one bandage on his cheek, she couldn’t pinpoint any other bandages on him. 

“Having problems seeing there, Velma?” he asked with a playful grin. 

“Hmph,” Amara narrowed her eyes at him and then rolled them, letting out a huff and smiling. “Why? Got my glasses in your pocket, Fred?”

Chris snickered and went to answer, but the door opened once more. They both turned to look, and Amara squinted. It took her a moment to recognize Veronica.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” the Doctor said with a smile. “You gave us quite the scare, love.”

“What happened?” Amara asked, trying to sit up. Chris helped her get comfortable. 

“Let's just say that the creature made for one hell of a barbecue,” Chris said in a dry tone.

“As for you, deary,” Veronica started with a bemused huff. “You had some fairly severe injuries. You had a large gash running from your right shoulder to your left hip, cracked ribs, and severe bruising. Thankfully we managed to get the bleeding under control. You’re on the mend and slated for a full recovery.”

“Oh,” Amara said with a blink. She smiled weakly despite feeling so drained. “I suppose that’s why I feel like I got run over by a truck.”

“No doubt,” Veronica said with a small chuckle. “At any rate, you’re due to have your painkillers changed out. Captain, I trust you can watch over my patient? Without pestering her?”

“I think I can manage that,” Chris responded with a chuckle.

“Good,” Veronica nodded and left the room, leaving the pair alone. 

“Seriously though,” Chris started with a sigh, turning back to look at Amara. His voice was stern but gentle. “What were you thinking, going off like that alone? You could have died. I know you probably thought it would help keep my men safe, but you're a civilian. It's our job to keep you safe."

“I…” Amara glanced down for a moment and then back up at Chris. “That thing was targeting me. You saw it too, right? I’d rather have led the thing away from the city and other people than let anyone die because it was after me…”

"If and when creatures like that attack you, it's not your fault that others may die," Chris said, tone unchanging. "That's survivors' guilt talking. Whoever created that thing is the one responsible for any deaths that occur. Not you."

"I wish I could believe that,” Amara said sadly, looking up at the ceiling. All those people… “I feel like it's my fault this happened… I don't understand. Why me…? Why were those things attacking me? I’m no one special…"

"We don't quite understand it either," Chris responded with a sigh. "We ran some tests, but everything came back inconclusive. You've got a gift, however. That’s undeniable.”

“A gift?” she looked back at him with a confused blink. 

“Yeah,” Chris said with a nod. “That little fireball trick of yours can be useful, depending on the situation. If you want, the BSAA can help you learn more about yourself.”

“Why?” she asked with a confused blink. “Why would you want someone like… like me to join? Besides, I have no clue how that little ‘trick’ works!”

"Well, that's part of why I'd like you to join the team,” Chris said with a chuckle and a winning smile. “That way, you have a safe place to learn about your capabilities. You might be a bit better at one thing over another, but hard work pays off too. Will you consider it?"

“Honestly, I don't think I have much choice,” Amara said with a frown. If the government thought they could harness her abilities. Movies were full of government conspiracies about people with powers getting locked up and experimented on. Better to fight than stay locked up in a lab, right? “Ah hell, that means I gotta get up the ass crack of dawn to exercise, doesn’t it? I hate working out...”

"Nothing wrong with a little morning cardio," Chris said with a cheeky grin and a wink. His expression turned serious a moment later. "Don't take what I said to mean that you don't have a choice. If you want to stay a civi, there is nothing wrong with that. Some basic stuff here and there so you can protect yourself and others is suggested at the very least, but it's just that… a suggestion."

"I highly doubt anyone would want me around once this… incident… gets found out about,” Amara said with a wince. She was feeling tired. “Guess I'll just deal with the workout… I need to lose a few pounds anyway."

“Alright then,” Veronica said, entering and cutting off further attempts at conversation. “Got you the good stuff. I’ll pop it into your IV, and then we’ll let you rest some more. Your friend, Tanya, is nearby, so she’ll drop by a little later.”

“Thanks,” Amara said with a tired smile. 

She watched as the older woman moved to inject the pain med into the IV line. Doc was right. It was the good stuff. She could feel the pain slipping away into a dull ache. Amara’s eyes fluttered shut for a few minutes. The next time she opened them, she saw her friend sitting next to her. 

“Homegirl, I wish you would stop fucking getting hurt…" the other woman said, squeezing her hand. 

"Tell that to the monsters lined up to kick my ass,” Amara said with a weak laugh. “They just liked my ass for some reason.”

“Well, it could be that you have one fine ass, and they just wanted to watch it jiggle,” Tanya replied with a teasing tone.

“Really?” Amara said in a dry tone, rolling her eyes weakly. ”Why the hell would they want to watch my fat ass?”

“Again?” Tanya asked with a sigh and a roll of her own eyes. She lightly swatted Amara’s good arm. “Girl, we need to work on your self-esteem. You got a nice set of tits and a nice ass.”

There was a low chuckle from the doorway, and Tanya let out a startled squeak of noise. They both looked toward the door and saw Chris leaning against the frame. Tanya grabbed one of the small pillows on the couch and half-heartedly tossed it at him. He caught it with a laugh. 

“How long have you been there?!” she asked with a huff. “And how the hell are you so quiet, big man?”

“I’ve been in the room the whole time, Ms. Williams,” he said with a laugh. He pointed at a spot next to the door. “You literally walked past me keeping guard. The only reason I didn’t stop you was ‘cause I know you’re friends. Your situational awareness needs some work.”

Amara giggled softly at the affronted expression on her friend’s face. She winced and hissed a moment later, placing a hand to her chest. Veronica huffed and moved over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to ease her back. Tanya and Amara both started slightly. Neither of them had noticed the Doctor where she’d been working next to the sink. 

“You need to take it easy, deary. You don’t want to agitate your wounds,” Veronica said in a gentle tone. 

“The fuck?” Tanya said, throwing up her hands. “Was everyone in here, and I just didn’t notice? Is there someone in the bathroom I don’t know about?!”

“No, there is not,” Veronica said with a laugh. She wagged her finger at Tanya. “But Mr. Redfield is right. You need to be more aware in the field, Ms. Williams.”

“I take it then that you’ve decided to join the BSAA as well, Ms. Williams?” Chris asked, his tone serious as he looked over the dark-skinned woman in front of him. All of his prior amusement had been cast aside.

“Hell the fuck yeah, I am,” Tanya said, turning to look at him. Her expression was equally serious. And angry. “I don’t want this shit happening to anyone else. I lost enough friends today as it is. I won’t just sit back and watch if something like this happens again.”

Amara smiled tiredly at Tanya. Her friend was always one to run headfirst into anything, and she normally came out on top too. Amara, on the other hand, wasn’t as confident as her brunette friend. Amara often preferred to not get caught up in conflict and would hide from it if she could. She was always told that she wore her heart upon her sleeve and would take any criticism as a negative view of herself.

“You are joining too? Right, Amara?” Tanya asked as she looked over at Amara.

Amara simply nodded her head, feeling the effects of the pain medication slowly begin to take hold. Chris looked at both women and then nodded his head. 

“I won't try to change your mind," he began, tone still serious, "but I want you both to be aware of what the BSAA faces on a day-to-day basis. I’m sure you both have heard what happened to Raccoon City. The news was all over the incident. Well, that was the tip of the iceberg. Afterward got out about the Umbrella and how they were creating Bioweapons to sell… Well… Now everyone wants a piece of the pie so they can create bioweapons… The BSAA was formed to combat these Bioweapons. Today was only a fraction of what we deal with every month…”

“So the BSAA was founded after Raccoon city, right? Weren't there survivors of that incident?” Tanya asked, placing the first knuckle of her right index finger under her bottom lip.

“There were four survivors: Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, Leon S. Kennedy, and my sister, Claire. I had left Raccoon City shortly before its destruction. The man behind the virus outbreak was said to be William Birkin and that he had an accomplice, Albert Wesker, who is still at large. We've discovered evidence that the outbreak was originally an accident that Birkin, Wesker, and Umbrella as a whole used to their advantage to test the T-virus on. Jill and I were teammates before the outbreak took place, so I know Wesker's involvement was no accident. Two others also left before the virus hit the City itself: Barry Barton and Rebecca Chambers-”

“So there were quite a few survivors. Whatever happened to them?” Tanya asked, cutting off Chris, who gave her a stern look. She returned it with a sheepish smile of her own. "Sorry."

“Leon is working for DSO and is the agent in charge of protecting the president. My sister is currently working for an organization called TerraSave," Chris said after a moment. "As for Jill, she and I are two of the founders of BSAA and work in another part of our organization as a Captain. Rebecca works as an advisor and Doctor. She helps us in analyzing viruses and helps in the difficult process of making vaccines for them. Carlos, from my understanding, works under Jill’s leadership as one of the secondhand officers, and as for Barry, well… He is retired and living with his family.”

“That’s interesting. Can you give us any ideas on what types of creatures we will be facing?” Tanya asked.

While Tanya was curious about it, Amara, however, could feel a headache coming on. So much information.

"Yes, what… creatures would we likely be facing?" she asked in a tired voice. "More like that… that thing?” 

This caused both Chris and Tanya to look at her, each with different expressions. Chris’ was a mix of some type of amusement and grim understanding, while Tanya’s was one of open concern. 

“The creatures we face vary depending on the virus. However, the basic creatures we wind up facing are zombies, cerberi-like creatures that were once dogs, and different animal-based variants. I won’t lie to you. They may be as big as the thing we faced a few days ago,” Chris replied with a closed-off look as he glanced down at the ground. He looked back up a moment later. "I can understand if you want to back out after a mission or two. We've lost people before who realized they got in over their heads."

“Well, now that you have an idea of what you would be facing, loves, do you still want to join the BSAA?” Veronica chimed in as she glanced between Amara and Tanya.

“You can count my ass in. Where the hell do I sign up?” Tanya replied, determination writ clear in her features.

Veronica allowed herself a small smirk at Tanya's eagerness. She looked down at Amara, who simply nodded in agreement. Still, Amara knew that her apprehension was probably visibly in her eyes. 

“Well then. We should allow you to rest and then get you girls situated when you healed up,” Chris stated as he moved to the door. "Doc, I'll be back in a minute. Need to talk to Jacobs. Keep watch for me."

"Run along, Redfield," the Doctor said with a wave of her hand.

Amara watched as Tanya followed Chris out the door after saying goodbye to her. Once the door closed, Amara allowed her eyes to close, feeling as if her life was once again going to change. However, she didn’t know if it would be for the better or for the worst. Amara hoped that things would get better. Maybe working for the BSAA would help her in her efforts to build a life where she didn't have to look over her shoulder all the time.

Chapter Text

*Lorraine POV*

I learned some interesting things as we made our way out of what had been named Haven city. When I'd hesitantly asked, Wesker had confirmed that the city had been built by Umbrella, much like Raccoon City. Haven had been made specifically to help Umbrella run physiological and sociological tests on people alongside the virus testing. If I could take him at his word, then it was an out-of-the-way, super paranoid, religious town full of isolationists who eschewed contact with the outside world as much as possible without giving up technology. 

“Wait, wait…” I paused for a moment to pinch the bridge of my nose but then rushed to keep up with him. He wasn’t about to slow down just for me. I knew that damned well. “So the city has decent amenities, tech-wise at least, but they believe… believed ... that there were… what… monsters in the woods and that the evils of the outside world were coming to get them and all of that cultist bullshit?”

“Oh yes,” Wesker said in a dry tone. “Umbrella’s agents even went so far as to ensure the populace here were of a mindset to be guided into taking part in ritual sacrifices. Terribly cliche of them, I know.”

“That’s…” I shuddered at his words and weakly forced myself to ask. “ Human sacrifices?”

“Of course,” he chuckled darkly, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Did you think I meant pigs or goats or chickens, Lorraine ?”

“Not… really…” I responded hesitantly. I shifted the backpack nervously on my shoulder, thinking back to the gas station and the school supply sale. “I… haven’t seen any kid zombies.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Wesker said, looking at me with an inscrutable look on his face before turning and punching through the window of a nice Lexus. 

He opened the door and brushed the glass off the seat before sitting down. He then expertly hotwired the thing, and the purring roar of an engine filled the air. At first, I thought he had dropped the subject, but he looked back at me, eyes meeting my own over his shades.

“They’d had yet to breed," he said with a smirk. "If anyone had survived this mess, then plans were to move on to creating a second generation and bring fresh blood in.”

“Okay…” I let out a faint sigh and rubbed the back of my neck. “You know... I feel a little less bad about what happened here, but this is still a shitty situation...”

“Do you feel less horrified regarding their fates because of their quaint religious beliefs?” he asked in a mocking tone, unlocking the car doors and waving at the passenger seat. 

“Because they practiced human fucking sacrifice ,” I hissed back before darting around behind the vehicle and getting in, setting my bag on the footboard and buckling up. 

I found myself grateful that Wesker hadn’t used the time to speed away and abandon my ass. The noise from the engine had drawn the attention of a few zombies, and they had already started ambling towards us. 

“Believe what you want to believe," I continued with a small huff, "but there’s a limit when it comes to cults, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” Wesker said with another low chuckle. “Still, I have what I need.”

“More information to bring Umbrella down, right?” I asked hesitantly. 

“Correct,” he said, smirking as he drove us out of the city. “And perhaps a little more than I expected to find. We’ll see, won’t we, Lorraine ?”

“I… sir?” I shifted in my seat, trying to contain the urge to lean away from him. “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”

“Because it’s not your name,” he said in a bland tone. “And I wonder if you’ve lied about anything else you’ve told me.”

“I’m not-!” I started, only to yelp as he abruptly pulled over, stopping hard enough that I jerked forward. 

The car was put in park, and he abruptly caught me by the chin. He forced me to look him in the eye, his head tilted forward so that I had a close-up view of those deadly, draconian orbs. It took everything I had not to whimper in fear.

“Do not lie to me,” he said in a calm, deadly tone. The ‘or else’ really didn’t have to be verbalized. 

“I’m not lying,” I responded stiffly, struggling to keep my tone even. Despite the terror pulsing through my veins, I was angered by his accusation. “Lorraine is my middle name. Kvale is my birth family name. They are my names .”

“Hn,” he tilted my head to the side and back before letting me go. He leaned back in his seat, shifting the car back into drive before steering the vehicle back onto the road. “Be very mindful of what you say... Lorraine.”

“I’m not dumb,” I said after a few moments, turning to look out the window. At least he wasn’t saying my name with that hint of a scathing note to his tone anymore. “You could kill me in an instant, but you’re also the best chance I have at surviving…”

“True,” he responded with a dark chuckle. “Very true. Let’s see if you can behave yourself, hm?”

Wesker never did mention what state we'd been in, and the roads he took avoided any major signs that I could use to orient myself. After sixteen hours of driving, including a stop for more gas and a break where he let me stretch my legs, he pulled up to a stop at what looked like an abandoned mine. Wesker started inside without a word, and I hesitantly followed after him. A few confusing twists and turns later, and he hit a hidden switch, opening a path to a hidden bunker-slash-lab. He led me to a decent-sized room, a kind of mini apartment with a bedroom, living room, and bathroom. I warily stepped inside.

"You're to remain here for a time," he said, eyes narrowed on me over his shades. "I will be bringing you several notebooks and pens. I expect you to write down everything that you can remember, understood?"

"I… yes, sir," I responded. That tracked. I glanced around the sparse room. Sure, there was a TV and VCR, but… would they work?

"Good," his lips twitched up into a brief smirk as he turned away. "I'll also be drawing samples of your blood. Do not complain."

"Ah, no, that's… that's not a problem," I said with a nervous smile. "D-different Earth. Potentially different illnesses. Checking my blood makes sense. Um…"

"What is it?" he turned back to me with a scowl.

"Are… Are there any books I could read or something…?" I asked in a small voice. He blinked at me, raising a brow.

"You're not going to demand that I let you go? Or complain about your sparse accommodations?" he said, his voice almost but not quite sounding surprised. "Just a request for books?"

"Where would I go?" I countered with a small huff and a shrug as I moved to the modest couch and set my pack down. "As far as the government is concerned, I don't exist. Sir. Wesker. I… I said earlier that you're my best chance to survive. I didn't just mean back in the City. I meant overall."

"Wise of you," he said with a small amused little huff. 

He left the room without saying anything else. I heard the sharp clanking noises of multiple locks engaging and fought back the urge to sigh. Inspecting the connecting rooms didn't take long. There was very little there beyond the basics that you might find in a cheap hotel room. Curious, I turned on the TV… and was immediately left unsurprised by the lack of satellite connection. There were no tapes to watch, either. This time, I actually let out a small sigh before sitting down to sort through my pilfered pack of food. Satisfied with the haul that I had, I quickly downed an entire bottle of water and a snack bar before settling in to wait.

Wesker returned about an hour later, pushing a utility cart into the room. I blinked in surprise at the sight of a plate of food, chicken carbonara of all things, and a small stack of six books and three notebooks on the cart alongside the expected medical equipment needed to draw blood. What threw me off for a moment was the thought that he cooked . I sat up with a wince, preparing myself for the usual bit of agony that came with getting my blood drawn. He noticed and raised a brow at me.

"Afraid of needles?" he asked in a borderline mocking tone.

"Shy veins, actually," I responded with a shrug as I pulled up my sleeve. "So less 'afraid of needles' and more not looking forward to you digging around to find the vein…"

"Ah," he chuckled softly. 

Still wearing his leather gloves, he moved over to my side. I watched Wesker closely as he methodically tied the rubber tourniquet into place on my upper arm and then cleaned a spot near the bend of the arm. I began to clench and relax my hand without prompting, and he let out what might have been an approving hum. He went back to the cart to get the needle and its connecting tubing and three vials. I relaxed my hand as he returned, again without prompting, and he ran a finger firmly over my arm. The touch was brief but focused. My brows flew up in shock a second later when he eased the needle in, and blood immediately started to flow. 

"Not that shy today, hm?" he said in a dry voice as he filled one vial and then another. I immediately looked away from him, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. "Eat first and then write as much as you can recall into the notebooks. Chronological order of events would be preferred, but not all stories are released in such an order, and I understand some events may stand out more than others in your memory. After you're done, you're free to peruse the books I brought you."

"Thank you," I said in a quiet voice. "Um, what did you bring?"

" Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs , Hannibal, a Virology textbook, The Moon in her Eyes, and Gods as They Evolve Through History, " he said in a bland tone, pulling the second vial away and plugging the third into the line. 

"I know the first three. It'll be nice to read those again," I said with a bemused chuckle, not surprised in the slightest that Wesker was giving me a medical textbook to read. "But the last two aren't familiar to me."

"Hn, nor to me," he said with a bemused huff. "This was a bunker that the Birkin's intended to use if they had successfully escaped. William, for all that he was a skilled doctor focused on his work, often to his detriment, enjoyed the occasional trashy romance novel. Annette, however, enjoyed studying religious histories and their similarities through time. They both enjoyed crime novels."

"Oh," I scrunched up my nose briefly and quickly tried to wipe away the expression as he pocketed the last vial and removed the needle from my arm, and undid the tourniquet. "Annette's book sounds interesting, but I… don't like trashy romance novels myself."

"Not into 'rippling muscles' or 'bodice ripping'?" he asked with a dry chuckle, picking up the book and showing me the cover of a man holding a woman up by the waist, the moon in the background.

"Not my cup of tea," I confirmed with a shake of my head. "Romance is all well and good for some folks, but… it's all a little over the top to me?"

"Fair enough," he said with another bemused chuckle, pocketing the book. "I'll return later. Do behave."

"Not like I can go anywhere to get into trouble," I dared to quip. 

"Very true," he said, the chuckle taking on a more sinister note for a moment as he closed and locked the door.

I spent the next few months like that. I read the books Wesker had given me, wrote what I could recall down, ate, exercised as much as I could in such confines, and otherwise just tried not to break down. It wasn't that I was lonely. My introverted ass was quite content with the solitude. 

No, what had me occasionally crying was two-fold. One, I'd tested my little dream theory in the bathroom, the one place that didn’t look like it had a camera, and… well, there's just one thing I couldn't do in the hyper-realistic dreams I could sometimes get, and I was able to do that thing so… Yay. Stuck in a world with zombies. Two, my husband and ferrets were probably dead. No, not probably. They were dead. That had been a fucking nuke going off in the distance before hubby had shoved me back into that kaleidoscope of light. If one nuke had gone off on American soil, the chances of others going off around the world were high.

So. Yeah. Survivor's guilt was a thing. As was depression. 

I kept myself as busy as I could with the books I was given, even studying the virology books and occasionally daring to ask Wesker to clarify a few things during his daily visits. Given that the bunker was meant for the Birkin's, I worked up the courage to ask if they'd stocked any game systems for Sherry. I was pleasantly surprised when he brought me a Gameboy Color the next day along with a couple of games, a Pokemon game, and a Tetris game specifically. With that extra bit of media in hand, I kept myself busy enough to keep from going batty. 

Honestly, my situation was akin to the story of the Goose that Laid the Golden Egg. In this case, I was the Goose and Wesker the Farmer. Only, instead of being in a rush to try to obtain more eggs all at once, he was content to ensure that I was safe, healthy, and willing to share my information with him. I filled up notebook after notebook at his direction, trying to dredge up even the smallest bits of lore from my mind. I’d almost call it kind of him to treat me so, one could almost say decently , but I knew better.

Which was surprising. I kept half-expecting blatant torture or that damned control Scarab thingie. Except Wesker or Excella, they never did specify who exactly developed the damned thing, hadn’t had that particular item invented yet… so… blessing in disguise? Besides, those events weren't until, what, Two-thousand and eight or 'nine? Resident Evil Five’ s events. Maybe I could, I don’t know, distract him from that somehow? And make it so that Jill wasn’t caught as a test subject? Or Hel, maybe with my intel, it wouldn’t need to be invented at all. 

Roughly three or four months after he'd brought me here, he showed up with a tailored suit that looked to be exactly my size. And it probably was. It even had slacks instead of a skirt and a simple black purse to go with it. He'd apparently noticed my preference against wearing any of the dresses that he'd brought to me. Annette’s old clothes had been roughly my size. He set the suit on the table and turned to leave. I closed my book and blinked at the items. 

“What’s all this then?” I asked warily. 

“Check the purse and then get dressed,” he ordered over his shoulder as he left the room. “We leave in twenty minutes. Chop chop, Lorraine.”

“Thank-” the door closed behind him, and I blinked at it, feeling a little dumbfounded. What had changed? What was going on? “-you?”

I checked the purse like he’d said to and found an ID inside with my name, middle and maiden name on it. Alongside it was a social security card, a passport, and a single visa bank card. I spent a few moments just staring at the items. He'd forged a fake identity for me. Did that mean he was keeping me around…? Or did that… wait. Outside… 

I tucked the ID and other items back in the purse and grabbed the clothes, darting into the bathroom to get changed. Introvert I might be, but after so long, the idea of seeing daylight again was more than a little exciting. Sure, he had given me limited access to some exercise equipment, namely a treadmill, but that wasn’t the same thing at all.

For months afterward, he dragged me around to various places as he worked to ruin Umbrella. Not to fight but to act as his assistant. To sort through the physical paperwork that he found, while he handled the digital documents. I learned quite a bit about Umbrella in the process. And every page I read just made me despise the company more and more. 

“Ask your question,” he said at one point when we were alone on his private jet. We were heading to Moscow for some sort of meeting that day. “You’ve been thinking long enough about whatever it is that is bothering you.”

“Don’t… don’t you need injections or something to stabilize the virus?” I asked hesitantly, setting the papers that I was sorting through onto my lap.

“ Injections ?” he chuckled at the question, sipping at a glass of high-end scotch. “No. William was able to alter what he was given into a stable virus capable of bonding near perfectly with the Progenitor Virus already running through my veins. Yet another small detail…”

“‘Small detail?’” I repeated, pressing gently for more. He fell silent and looked out the window.

“Most of your information has been surprisingly accurate and highly profitable for my efforts,” Wesker began after a moment, smirking and taking another sip of his drink. “But there are small details that are wrong. Not enough to make your information useless, but enough that it is amusing at times.”

"What else was wrong?" I asked, curious. 

"For one, I certainly did not shoot Ms. Chambers and then cart Christopher down at gunpoint to the Tyrant's containment room," Wesker said with an amused huff. "That would have been the height of foolishness. Especially when I needed to focus on extracting information from Umbrella's computers. Christopher made his way there on his own. Though, I admit, I did monologue a bit too much for my own good when he showed up."

“Ah,” I responded simply, nodding and finishing sorting what I'd been given. 

Afterward, I turned back to the latest book he’d given me, another virology book. He was dead-set on me at least understanding the basics of his work. I was already working on a Bachelor's Degree on his orders.

Suffice to say, I was certainly kept busy as his little helper. He hadn’t been happy about Umbrella’s betrayal and wanted the company to burn . Using my knowledge, he was able to find and kill Sergei Vladimir earlier than in the games. Along with a handful of others. Overall, Wesker had been very pleased with my efforts and had… Well, as time passed, I became a very well compensated personal assistant who had an especially tight leash around her neck, and I knew it.

In late Two-thousand and two, after obtaining my Bachelor's in Virology, Wesker sent me to infiltrate TriCell. I moved up the ranks from a low-level front desk attendant to an upper-level Assistant to one of the Division Branch Managers in a very short period. Two years, actually. Wesker ran the show behind the scenes, while one Lawrence Polk, the 'on-paper' Manager, acted as his patsy. 

It quickly became apparent that my primary ‘responsibilities’ were to act as the main ‘TriCell consultant’ for the BSAA. Or, more appropriately, I was to work in Wesker's stead wherever he wanted to steer people like Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy in a direction that benefitted Wesker’s goals. 

Which was fucking terrifying… Wesker was damn well testing me, and I knew it.

My first real ‘test' was that first contact call between the two men in question and myself. I knew that I’d have likely been fucked over in a second if I’d tried to get them to ‘rescue’ me, so… I kept my head down and passed on the information Wesker had wanted me to without trying to alert anyone. Knowing that there was a trap in front of you made it easier to avoid said trap. And it wasn't like Wesker had put me in open danger over the years. 

Oddly enough, I began to develop a loose friendship with Leon and Chris. They… were nice guys. Sweet, really. Well, I say loose friendship, but it was close enough that Chris came to me for help on how to ask the sandy-haired blonde man out. That had knocked me for a small loop, finding out both men were Bi, but I was happy to help. They were cute together. 

Despite everything, I was able to do some good when it came right down to it. Wesker kept a closer eye on Sherry. And a closer eye on Simmons’ work. Wesker was making sure that Sherry wasn’t hurt and in need of a quick extraction. He really was her godfather. And though Wesker rarely made promises, he took them seriously. Thankfully, all Simmons did was occasionally draw her blood as he worked to develop his little C-virus. Otherwise, he treated her as a distant house guest. 

Wesker did what he could to manipulate events without changing them too terribly from what I'd known. All the better to predict the future and control what he could until my knowledge ran dry. 

Around mid-Two-thousand and three, I gathered up the gumption I needed to talk to him about another bit of ‘future lore’ that concerned him . Something that I had originally just glossed over… 

“Wesker?” I knocked on his office door one late evening when most of the others at his lab were gone for the day. “Do you have a moment?”

“Shouldn’t you have already gone home, Ms. Kvale?” he looked at me with a raised brow, setting down an updated folder with information on one of his projects. A sign that he was giving me his undivided attention.

“Probably,” I responded with a shrug, closing the door behind me. “But there was another ‘story’ subject that I wanted to bring to your attention. I just… am not quite sure how to go about explaining things…”

“Hm,” he pressed a button connected to the bottom of his desk, and the door locked behind me. He motioned for me to sit. “You only get this hesitant if the incident involves children or my ‘predicted death.’ Take a seat and explain.”

“Actually, it kind of runs together with that,” I said with a bitter laugh, moving to take a seat. “I suppose I should start with a question, really. What do you know about Project W?”

“It was the eugenics program that shaped me into who I am,” he said with a small shrug. “The program was all but a failure, given that only point-zero-zero-six percent of the children originally gathered bonded with the Progenitor Virus and are alive to this day.”

“And…” I hesitated, biting my lower lip nervously.

This information had driven him over the edge in the games, but at that point, he’d also finished off Umbrella. From what I could guess from the flashbacks we were shown, he'd been looking for a new goal to focus on and had decided killing Spencer would be the next big thing on his to-do list. Only shit hit the fan when he met the dying old man. Maybe finding out now would help. I took a deep breath and forged ahead.

“What if I said the goal of Project W hadn’t really been to make a better humanity," I began carefully. I'd been sitting on this for a while now, unsure of how to properly bring it to his attention. "But that Spencer’s ultimate goal was immortality and ‘godhood’ with an army of ‘Übermensch’ at his beck and call like loyal little slaves?”

"Immortality and godhood? Übermensch?" he repeated, sitting back with a blink. 

He shook his head and stood up, moving over to pour two glasses of whiskey. He walked back and silently handed one of the drinks to me before leaning against the side of his desk.

"You mentioned his death in the journals," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "Obviously, he failed. I witnessed his death in your story?"

"More than just witnessed. Around, what, Two-thousand and six or so?" I continued, taking a hesitant sip. I wasn't one much for whiskey, but it didn't taste bad. A note of honey tickled at my throat. "Around that time, you either find him on your own, or he sends you an invite to talk. In the part of the conversation that they revealed, he was quoted as saying, 'I was to become a god!' and in the end, you killed him, saying that such a right was now yours. But something in the hidden part of the conversation about building a race of superhumans ended up steering you down the path that led to your death after injecting yourself with Uroboros. You were exceptionally pissed off at the idea of being 'manufactured.'"

"I see. And how did Project Uroboros progress in this story of yours, Lorraine? You wrote down the highlights of events, Christopher's efforts and the enemies and allies he'd faced, Jill's capture, and subsequent brainwashing. Still, you wrote very little detail about the virus itself," he asked, tilting his head just a hair and blinking at me. "I have such a project in the beginning stages, and I find myself curious about the specifics that were mentioned."

"Ah, let's see," I tilted my head thoughtfully. It surprised me at how well I could remember things after three going on four years with no access to the game Wiki. "The plan was for an… 'atmospheric release to secure global saturation of the virus to wipe out or mutate all human beings save for those worthy.' Humans with certain genetic markers would bond with the virus and be improved by it. It failed to be released thanks to the BSAA's efforts like I mentioned. I know original testing found the virus untenable because of the-"

"Low survivability ratio. Which is currently a major factor against the Project. Of a population of six-point-five billion, currently, only five hundred to six hundred people might survive. If that. Improving things to even be point-zero-one percent would be a vast improvement, but also an exceptional waste of resources," Wesker finished for me with a shake of his head. "You say I proceeded with the plan regardless and injected myself but failed to mention what mutations occurred. If any."

"There were disastrous mutations, in my opinion," I responded with a shake of my head. "It was this roiling mess of… wait. I can show you..."

I stood up and grabbed a blank piece of paper and a pen from his desk, doing a quick and rough sketch of what he'd looked like in the game. His lips curled into a sneer of distaste as I passed him the page. I wasn't half bad at drawing, so it was a decent showing for a quick sketch with a simple pen. Decent… 

And in no way pleasant to look at.

"Clearly needs more work…" he said with a scoff. "The goal is to evolve Humanity. Not devolve it. Who assisted me with this Project in your story?"

"Excella Gionne," I responded with a small frown. "She's a very pretty, but on the whole, also very dumb smart person. She'll, ah… Be very enthusiastic about pursuing you..."

"Good to know. A person’s emotions can often be used to control them," he responded with a snort of dry amusement. He looked down at the drawing for a long moment before tucking it away in an empty folder and unlocking the door. “Run along now. You've given me much to think about and have a check-up in the morning.”

I left, feeling tentatively hopeful that I’d changed things some. Of course, Wesker didn't stop Project Uroborus. He wanted certain key events to still play out to his benefit, but he changed how he approached it.  

He took steps to make sure that the Uroboros Project was headed by Excella Gionne and that his name was clear of all files related to it. Any conversations he had with her over the phone or in-person were vague and practically in code. If anything, she would make a decent fall guy for his new plans to build a 'redeemed' name for himself. He had several ideas in mind that would require him to have a 'good' public persona.

Speaking of good things, Wesker had looked into his son's existence. The blonde hadn't exactly been pleased to find out that his ex had left because she had been pregnant. He didn't blame her, Umbrella being what it was, but he still hadn't been pleased . Umbrella had told Wesker that he was sterile. One more manipulation on their part. Despite the company's machinations, he was still of a mindset that building a better humanity was paramount. That he was the only 'Wesker' child to survive and pass on his genetics was important to that goal. Alexandra 'Alex' Wesker didn't count. While Wesker had reverse-engineered Birkin's T-virus and sent it to her, her illness had rendered her sterile. The viral cocktail didn't fix that.

Part of me had been worried that he might drag the kid in for tests, but all Wesker did was ensure that money reached the small family and essentially did that whole 'watch the person from afar' thing.

Wesker had a file set aside for Jake, which was updated regularly. The kid healed a lot faster than others his age. Not as quickly as Wesker himself, but it was notable. Jake was a bit faster than his peers too. A bit stronger. Whatever had been done to Wesker before he injected himself had been very beneficial when it came to long-term genetics. 

Who knew what would happen if Wesker had kids now.

One day he randomly pulled me aside to a private exam room at the far side of the lab, scaring quite a few years off me in the process with how serious he was and how isolated the damn room was. No one was currently using this area. No one would hear me if things went south. He waved at the pile of paperwork laying out on the exam table.

"Read it," he ordered before leaning against the door and crossing his arms, eyes watching me intently.

I wandered over and warily looked through the papers. Project Bifrost… eh? Every page I flipped through was one more arrow to my heart and one more bullet to kill my hopes of going home. The synopsis alone was painful to read;  

Budget sustainability - untenable. 

Feasibility of positive results - untenable. 

Logistics of appropriate relocation when factoring in current planetary placement in the galaxy, the target planetary body, and galactic placement showed a success rate of less than zero-point-zero-zero-repeating-one percent. 

Survivability of subject if attempt made - untenable. 

Project Bifrost has been deemed unfeasible, and all resources have been reallocated to more appropriate projects . 

I flipped through the pages one at a time, skipping over some of the more technical jargon. A tear fell onto the paperwork, and I froze, staring at it and the pages in my hands blankly. I couldn't go home. Ever. And that was if there was even a home to go back to . That’s what these pages were saying. Even if a test attempt could be made, I or any volunteers would likely die in the process.

"It's rather too bad the project turned out to be a failure," Wesker said in a dry, conversational tone behind me. "I was rather curious to see what might happen if a method of reliable transportation could be built..."

"Please stop," I muttered softly, chest tight. I could easily guess where he was going with things. And I didn't want to hear it.

"Imagine the possibilities," he continued as if he hadn't heard me. "Hundreds, no, thousands of potential test subjects that no one here would even think to miss and no one there could ever find ..."

"Stop…" I hissed, pressing the palm of my hand against my forehead.

"People just as helpless as you were, with nothing to their names," he ignored me, relentlessly pressing and… "The perfect test subjects-"

" Shut the fuck up !" I roared at him.

I'm not proud of the loss of my temper. I was dumb enough to turn around to try to punch him. Foolish on my part. Exceptionally foolish. He had me pinned to the wall with his arm against my throat faster than I could blink. Those dragon-like eyes were fucking terrifying when he was angry.

"I'd suggest maintaining control of your temper in the future, Ms. Kvale," he said in a low voice. "I only allow for a handful of outbursts amongst my… employees . I would hate to have to let you go over a minor incident like this. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," I muttered back, and he pushed away from me to leave the room. He paused in the doorway.

"I expect the files for Project J on my desk within the hour, Ms. Kvale," he said, tone back to being polite and uncaring. "Don't disappoint me."

I didn't dare respond verbally, alternating as I was between anger, grief, and lingering fear. It didn't take me long to realize why he'd said what he had. Wesker may have had a Ph.D. in Virology, but he was also skilled in psychology . He knew how to read and manipulate people to his advantage. He’d expected me to have a bad mental breakdown. His matter-of-fact attitude and cold words were meant to make me angry. To keep me from withdrawing into a shell. Something to focus my grief and anger on so I could go back to being ‘useful’ to him once I’d calmed down. 

Clever asshole. 

Even though his warning had scared a few years out of me, I felt mildly appreciative of his odd efforts to… help, I suppose? I was still pissed, sure, but my ‘home’ was gone. And I needed to accept that. I had a few bad months of depression afterward, but… it's not like I hadn't already mourned what I'd lost. 

The failure of 'Project Bifrost' only cemented the loss in my mind and allowed me to finally move on...

Chapter Text

Eventually, days turned into weeks, and Amara healed up. The scars of her encounter with the scorpion snake thing decorated her body, but they began to fade. The only one that stood out, in the end, was the one over her chest. Amara often eyed the discolored skin with contempt, despite how fast it healed. She hated it, despite having earned it heroically. She tended to avoid going out because of it. 

The early days training with Chris’s BSAA unit had been especially harsh upon Amara’s mentality. Amara had not been in the best physical shape and had only considered herself average at most tasks. Running, jumping, climbing, etc. Not her forte. She pushed herself as best she could to keep up, but it didn’t stop the quietly hissed taunts from some of the other squad members' mouths when Chris wasn’t around. 

The only two she really got along with at the beginning were Hector Jacobs, a rough-looking Caucasian man with a scar over his left cheek, and Dominic Williams, a broad-shouldered African American male with a perpetual smile. Both were senior squad members and did what they could to keep the peace between her and the others. Dominic had taken her under his wing to teach her hand-to-hand combat when he’d found out that her previous trainer was simply throwing her around and not teaching her a damned thing. Except maybe how to avoid cheap shots. Jacobs worked with her on her marksmanship for a while, but he eventually was given more responsibility in the organization and she only saw him on occasion after that.

The taunting could get exceptionally bad at times, especially after Chris started having her practice her strange ‘flame’ abilities. ‘Witch’ was the mildest of the insults. 

And yet, despite that, she was a quick learner. Especially when it came to weapons training and combat. She was a good markswoman and scout after years spent playing ‘combat’ airsoft with Tanya. It only took her a little bit of time to get used to the different weights of various live weapons and gear. 

Amara and Tanya had started training together, but because Tanya had more physical training and an actual military background, the older girl had been separated into a different squad. They’d started to hang out less and less because of it. The months slowly turned into years. Though Amara improved greatly in combat expertise and had even earned the rank of Lieutenant, the two friends hardly saw each other anymore. Sometimes months passed before they went out on a mission together. But when they did, they could still count on each other to watch the others back. 

Sadly, despite her efforts to get along with the already close-knit groups of people usually on their team, again, only Dominic, Jacobs, and Chris seemed to like her. Hell, Dominic treated her like she was a little sister. The others… well. 

Despite her new rank, they often ignored her and made life difficult for her on missions. More often than not, she’d be the one most injured when coming back from a mission. Yeah, she could somehow take more damage than the others and heal faster, but it was noticeable enough that Chris would sometimes pull her aside to press her for information. Asking subtle questions about the mission to try to figure out where things had gone wrong. The questions grew more pointed with the new rank, as she was sometimes the second or third in command depending on the mission. Perhaps she should have spoken up sooner, but... she didn’t want to stir up any trouble. 

That ingrained habit forced on her by her ex years ago to keep her head down and her mouth shut translated into her teammates getting away with worse than they probably should have. She’d gather bits of evidence to defend herself from the accusations of ‘wandering off’ or ‘disobeying orders’ and then… just sat on it. She’d use just enough of the evidence to keep herself from getting into trouble, but… She really should have used all of it to call the others out on their behavior toward herself and sometimes toward Dominic for being her friend, but she couldn't take that last step.

It hurt being considered an outsider and an outcast by most of the team. Chris and Dominic actively included her in things, and even though Jacobs was that distant sort of friendly, it didn’t help the feeling that she just didn’t belong. Yeah, she could take down a BOW on her own, had been forced to more times than she could count, but being competent in combat was one thing. People just… weren’t her thing sometimes. She’d actually developed a mild case of insomnia because of it all and would wander the base in the middle of the night. 

She often found herself drawn to Chris’ office. Most of the time, he was up late like she was, and she would help him with his reports. She’d found out that his handwritten reports left much to be desired in terms of neatness and his desk… Well, he had a lot of work on his plate. It eventually became routine for her to spend those sleepless nights helping him compile his reports. He’d eventually started to make comments or jokes that bordered on flirting, and Amara always found herself blushing and playfully scolding him. 

Other times she’d find him asleep at his own desk, his face clear of the constant stress that marred his waking hours. She’d tidy up his work area those nights, making sure he was covered with one of the thin blankets they had on hand. 

A few days before Christmas Eve, in the year Two-thousand and eight, Dominic surprised her with an early gift. It had been a week spent training and keeping in shape, and he’d pulled her aside after their sparring match to hand her an envelope. 

“What’s this?” she asked him with a surprised blink.

“Open it and find out,” he’d responded with another of his laid-back grins.

Blinking in confusion, Amara opened it carefully. Inside were two plane tickets to New York and a receipt for a hotel paid for an entire week in her name, along with two more tickets to the grand reopening of the Carnegie Hall Opera House. Amara’s eyes watered up with tears, and she’d had to contain a small noise of excitement. She’d been excited about the buildings reopening and had complained months ago that she was going to miss it. That he’d remembered and spent that much money on it… He drew her into a friendly one-armed hug.

“Hey now. No tears,” Dominic said with a gentler smile. He nudged her shoulder with one knuckle and then jutted his chin toward Chris’ office. “Now, how about you go and ask our good Captain Redfield to go with you, yeah? You know… for… emotional support.”

He grinned down at her, and she punched him in the chest lightly. He knew about her ongoing crush on their Captain. She’d never said anything to the brunette about it, but… yeah. 

“Really, Dominic?” she said, shooting her friend a playful glare. “Just up and ask him?”

“Why not?” Dominic said with a shrug, cheeky grin not fading in the slightest. “Hey, I'm not the one that's head over heels for him. And don’t you dare deny it this time. I saw you tucking that blanket around him.”

“Shh,” she hissed, glancing around before puffing her cheeks out at him. She looked toward the office and then down at her feet, apprehension filling her. “What if I make a fool of myself, Dominic…?”

“Girl, don't worry about that,” he said, giving her an encouraging smile and nudging her shoulder. “Just go in and ask if he would like to go. Make sure you knock, though. Heard the DSO agent, Leon Kennedy, is here to check the probability of recruiting Tanya from us for a mission in the future.”

“Leon Kennedy?” Amara blinked at him, feeling confused for a moment before she remembered who he meant. “Oh. Well, that’s good for Tanya then. She’s been itching to expand her options. I… I better go talk to Chris then to see if he wants to go.”

Dominic’s smile widened, green eyes glittering with amusement. He gave her shoulder another pat and wandered off, shouting for one of the others to get their asses on the training mat. Amara watched him for a moment before turning to look at Chris’ office door. She took a deep breath and walked over, noting that the blinds were drawn. Amara paused with her hand over the door, hearing two voices talking in low tones beyond the door. Should she interrupt? Wait? And… Why did their voices sound… husky? Curiosity got the better of her, and she eased closer, carefully putting a hand to the doorknob. She opened the door by about an inch and peeked inside. 

The angle was enough to let her glimpse Chris, who was sitting in his chair, leaning back casually with a smirk on his lips. Leon, the sandy-blonde-haired DSO agent, was leaning over him with a serious expression on his face. She watched, a small pulse of worry filling her, as Leon braced his hands on the arms of Chris’ chair, leaning in close. At first, she thought they were about to fight, and she almost pushed forward to announce herself… but instead, Agent Kennedy leaned forward and kissed her Captain .

She slammed a hand over her mouth to contain the surprised squeak that threatened to escape her. Amara watched with wide eyes as Chris returned the kiss, slowly standing up and pushing the shorter male back and… Oh, dear. Chris had pushed Leon onto the desk, knocking over a few items and… She swallowed roughly and closed the door as quietly as possible. As erotic a sight as the two made, she could feel her heartbreaking. Chris Redfield was… apparently spoken for. Her hand tightened around the papers, crumpling them a little bit as she tried to move away from the door as nonchalantly as possible. 

She left the main office area and went back to the barracks to her room. She ducked inside and closed the door behind her, placing a hand to her chest. Of course, Chris was taken. Why did she hope to have a chance? Amara shook her head and looked around her mostly bare room, and let out another sigh. It was times like this when she felt her depression start to kick in. As if she were alone. She could practically hear her inner demons cackling at her misery. 

“Amara? Hey lil’ sis,” Dominic knocked lightly on her door before poking his head in. “Did you talk to Chris?”

Amara turned to face him and the humor drained from his face. He let out a soothing noise and moved over to her without a word, giving her a comforting hug. She tried to fight back the tears, sniffling softly and rubbing at her face. Dominic’s hand patted gently at her back. 

“Hey now,” he shifted back to look at her face. “What happened?”

"He has someone already…” she said, trying not to hiccup and failing. “He… I saw him kissing Leon. Why would he want me when he has him? I… I’m sorry, Dominic… you wasted your money on such a nice gift for me and…”

“Don’t be sorry, lil’ sis,” he said, reaching up to brush the tears away. “It’s not a waste. If you still want to go, I can drop you off at the airport. I wouldn’t be able to join you right away, but I can finagle myself some time off and join you in time for the show, so you don’t have to be alone. Sound like a plan?”

“I… yeah. I’d like that,” Amara sniffled and scrubbed at her face, trying to force the tears to stop. “Stupid to be… to be crying. I already had time off anyway, as you know, so… I can be packed in ten.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, kissing the crown of her head gently. “It’s natural. Now you go ahead and get packed, and I’ll get the car ready. The plane leaves in two hours.”

Amara nodded her head again and turned to pack a small travel bag as Dominic stepped out of the room. She heard voices outside, but they were low enough for her to ignore them. Once Amara had some basics packed away, she went to the bathroom and scrubbed her face clean. She clapped her hands against her cheeks and took a deep breath before letting it out. It hurt seeing Chris and Leon like that but… they also looked good together. She shook her head and grabbed her bag, stepping out of the room. She saw some of the other squad members walking off laughing about something and frowned. Dominic pushed away from the wall next to her door, scratching at his neatly trimmed goatee. He only did that when he was upset…

“Is everything okay, Dominic?” Amara asked, closing and locking the door. 

“Hm?” he turned and blinked at her before grinning. “Yeah, things are solid. Are you good to go?”

Amara nodded, returning his smile with a weak one of her own. Her eyes were slightly irritated from the crying, but hopefully, it didn’t look too bad. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and bumped his leg with her bag. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her outside to his jeep. He gave a playful, mocking bow toward the vehicle. 

“The lady’s chariot awaits,” he said with a wide grin. 

“Oh, stop that,” she said, smacking his shoulder with her bag. “I’m no lady.”

“Sure you are,” he countered, quickly grabbing the bag from her and setting it in the back seat. “Come on, let’s get this adventure started, yeah?”

He ushered her over to the passenger side and helped her into the vehicle with a teasing grin, causing her to laugh despite her mood. He closed the door, letting her get buckled in while he got in on the driver's side. He started the vehicle and pulled out onto the road, heading toward the airport. Amara rolled down the window and let the wind blow through her shoulder-length hair as she tried to relax. Eventually, she had to tie it back before it could get too tangled by the wind. Dominic’s own hair was pulled back in the usual cornrow of braids, so she wasn’t worried about his hair getting mussed. 

“While you're in New York,” Dominic started, glancing at her a moment before turning his attention back to the road. “You should do some shopping or something, so you’re not cooped up in the hotel. Get out and sightsee a little, ya know?”

“You know full well that I hate shopping,” Amara said with a weak laugh and a shake of her head. Yeah, she was healthier than she’d ever been and was more fit, but… shopping just wasn’t fun for her. “Tanya usually had to forcibly drag me to the clothes stores to get new things.”

“Yeah, well,” Dominic glanced at her again, frowning as he took in her likely morose expression. “At least try to have some fun until I get there, yeah? ‘Cause, you can bet I’ll be dragging you to all the best places to eat. Even know a few steak joints that are to die for.”

Amara let out a soft bark of laughter at that. That was Dominic, always thinking with his stomach. She shook her head and waved away the comment. He stuck his tongue out at her and laughed. They joked a bit along the drive, but they arrived at the airport in short order. Dominic parked the vehicle and escorted her to the right terminal, giving a few guys who eyed her the stink eye. She giggled softly, shaking her head as she glanced down at the ticket. She turned to him and grabbed him in a bear hug.

“Thank you,” she muttered softly. “For everything. I appreciate this, even if it ate up your entire paycheck.”

“Nah, been saving up for this for a while,” he said, returning the hug and patting her on the back. “I’ll be along within the next day or two, yeah? It shouldn’t be too hard to get that time off request through. Captain has been pushing me to take a vacation.”

“Alright,” she said with a smile. 

She waved goodbye as he headed out and moved over to sit in the waiting area, letting out a sigh. Amara glanced at her watch and then nodded her head, reaching into her bag to take out the book she’d packed away. The plane wasn’t leaving for another hour, so she had time to kill relaxing. Which wasn’t that easy to do. 

Her mind kept flashing back to what she’d seen in Chris’ office. The two men had looked good together. A part of her wondered why Chris hadn’t said anything sooner about the relationship, but then again, a lot of people still frowned on guy-on-guy or even girl-on-girl relationships. It was getting better in some areas, yeah, but… well, she could see why he kept it hidden. Why had he flirted, though? Or… had she imagined that he’d been flirting when she helped him with his reports? Or had he not realized that he was flirting? Jill had once joked that Chris was sometimes as dense as a boulder, referencing her time dating the man so…

She shook her head to clear it and tried to focus on the pages in front of her. Lingering on things wouldn’t help any. However, frustration built in her gut when she found her thoughts pulled again and again toward the two men. She tucked the book away with a sigh and was about to try to meditate a little when her phone rang. Opening the small flip phone, she recognized Dominic’s number and answered it.

“Hey Dominic, did I forget something at the base?” Amara asked in a worried tone.

“Yeah… no… it’s not that,” he said, sounding both angry and sheepish. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna be late getting out to New York. Wanted to let you know.”

“What happened? Is everything alright?” she asked, feeling her worry spike a little higher. “Is it your sister?”

“No, no, nothing like that, lil’ sis,” he responded, and she could picture him shaking his head. “I uh… yeah, the usual assholes in the group decided to start some shit with me… Well, more that they were… ya know, insulting you again and all… so I…”

“Dominic,” Amara felt the worry drain from her as her shoulders slumped. A small pulse of anger went through her a moment later, and her tone grew scolding. “You punched one of them, didn’t you?”

“Ah… yeah,” she could picture the taller man’s wince.

“I told you to ignore them if they started shit like that!” she hissed into her phone, trying not to disturb the other people waiting for the plane. “They do it on purpose so they can try to fuck up our records!”

“I know , Amara,” he said with a defeated sigh. “I know. But I couldn’t let it slide this time. Good news is the Captain caught part of the conversation.”

“Wait… Chris… heard them?” she asked, feeling her heart climb into her throat. “They…”

“Yeah, they’re usually more careful about when they say shit,” Dominic said, his voice grimly amused. “But they fucked up this time. I have no idea if it's going to lead to anything, but I needed to let you know before I spend the night in iso.”

“Wait, iso?” she jolted in her seat, feeling her eyes widen. “Captain only does that if… dammit Dominic, whose arm did you break?!”

“Sanchez’s…” Dominic said hesitantly. “And I broke Jameson’s nose… I think Clark ended up with a broken rib… or two."

“For fuck’s sake,” Amara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose under her glasses. If he was in front of her right now, she’d have smacked him upside the head. “That’d do it… Just the night?”

“Yeah, well, twenty-four hours, anyway,” Dominic said, coughing into his hand. She could hear Chris shouting in the background, in full ‘Captain mode,’ as they called it. “Ah… gotta go. Times up. I’ll let you know when I get into town, and… ah, don’t give up hope on things, yeah? Had an interesting talk with the Captain.”

“What?” she blinked in confusion, surprised by the sudden change of subject. “What do you mean?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!” Dominic had pulled back from the phone to respond to something Chris had said. He came back on the line. “Sorry, lil sis! Gotta go!”

The call ended abruptly, and she stared down at the phone in confusion and annoyance as the call to board sounded through the air. 

Chapter Text

*Lorraine POV*

During the winter of Two-thousand and Five, we got an interesting report from the BSAA about people spontaneously combusting during an Opera event. That threw me off. There was nothing, nothing , in the Resident Evil universe that could do that. I mean, sure, Heisenburg was this version's world of Magneto, but there were no 'fire starters' of this caliber around. At least, none that I could recall off the top of my head. Alexia Ashford had flammable blood, yes, but that was just the equivalent of her throwing liquid thermite around. Lighting someone on fire like this from a distance? No. There... there was nothing, should have been nothing like that in existence. Wesker was absolutely fascinated by the report because, of course, he was. He wanted to know if it could be duplicated. Controlled. If it was a T or G-virus mutation that a survivor somewhere had gained due to some anomaly in their blood. If it was something new entirely like the Mold incident that would happen in Twenty-seventeen.

Me? 

I just had a bad feeling about things. A really bad feeling. Mainly because the whole thing sounded vaguely familiar in that 'I've heard of this but never watched slash read slash played the story for myself' kind of way. 

Wesker had brought back samples of the remains from the disastrous opera performance. Or, I should say, he brought back goop. Like, literal, orangish-red pulpy goop . And if the samples hadn't been bad enough to make my stomach roil, the copy of the static-filled video feed he managed to recover was worse . This woman, this Eve as she called herself, had done this without any sign of remorse or regret. She'd sung the crowd a swan song and... either burned them or melted them down.

Her abilities were bad enough, but her name? Her name set off a dozen alarm bells in the back of my head.

“If you know something…” Wesker growled in a low voice once we reached his office after examining the samples.

“I’m trying to remember!” I said, throwing up my hands in frustration as I wracked my brain. I started to pace a little, not much, just a small circle as I ran my hands through my hair. “Her name makes me think of a game called Parasite Eve . But, dammit, I never played it. There was a movie and a manga too, but again, I never watched or read it! My friends did, though, so I’m trying to remember what all they told me.”

“Try harder,” he rumbled in a stern voice, crossing his arms and tapping his finger against one bicep as he leaned against his desk. “This could be a very useful breakthrough. Most of our projects are melee-based. A ranged attacker of this caliber? That would be highly profitable as well as a boon to my ultimate goal if certain traits can be isolated and duplicated.”

“I know!” I said and pinched the bridge of my nose. under my glasses. 

I'd been a little more interested in other genres at the time of the game's release. And when I did find interest in the zombie, bio-weapon, survival-horror genre, I’d fallen fully down the rabbit hole that was Resident Evil and hadn’t once looked back. My friends had gushed about the game often enough, but... I felt beyond perplexed. 

Eve was from her own 'franchise.' She shouldn't even exist in the Resident Evil world. At least, not unless the writers of those respective stories didn't realize they were detailing stories that co-existed somehow? I mean, not impossible. There were so many viruses and parasites and bacteria-based BOWs running around already that it was entirely possible that Eve could exist here.

But my presence here also left me feeling worried. If a person from my world could appear on this version of Earth, why not people from other worlds? 

“Not the same universe,” I said eventually, voicing my thoughts and dropping my hand to cross my arms over my chest. 

“What do you mean?” Wesker asked with a small frown. 

“Two different stories. Two different Earths ,” I responded with a frown of my own as I met his gaze. “What if she’s from another world like I am? I mean, my presence here might be an outlier, something random, but the stories were set in two different versions of Earth...”

“A valid concern,” he said with a thoughtful noise after a moment of tense silence. “I’ll have someone look into the woman’s background. Best that we examine all potential aspects of this situation.”

Thankfully, that particular fear was put to rest within the week. Wesker was able to pull up the entirety of Melissa Pearce's background. The woman had always existed here. Every member of her family was accounted for. From her parents all the way back to her ancestors in the Eighteen-hundreds. Her career was easily traced. Medical records were easy to obtain. Everything was there. It took some additional time for him to dig up further information, not about the woman herself, but about the Project that had somehow made her what she was. What he found was sparse but enough to paint a basic picture.

The ‘Eve-strain' was indeed its own Project. It had been a revival attempt of the lead scientist's wife after she had died. He'd been a part of the original group of scientists that had worked with Spencer and, when the older man had turned his attention to the Progenitor Virus, he had left to pursue his own path. He had worked with Miranda for a time, but in the end, he had seen the Megamycete as a waste of his time and had left her to her own devices as well.

Sadly, most of the information about this ‘Eve' had been lost with the Japanese scientist. The records had been destroyed by the very creator of the Project. There were no notes left to detail what had gone wrong, and since my information was all second-hand, I couldn’t help to clarify much. What I could recall was that it was tied to a person's ‘Mitochondria.' Some sort of ability that could only be passed along the maternal line. It was a dormant, recessive gene in men. As such, only the women could ‘awaken’ to their powers, and even then, only if the right set of circumstances occurred. 

The sheer lack of knowledge available to us had me worried and just plain annoyed Wesker. The songstress' trail had gone cold, too. We couldn’t find Melissa anywhere. She was ‘on indefinite leave’ and couldn’t be found even with Wesker’s admittedly massive and widespread information net helping him try to track her down. And the man had a ton of contacts in the mercenary world. Melissa was a high-profile singer. The fact that she disappeared from the radar so completely was bizarre. Unless she had some pretty powerful help, it shouldn't have been possible for her to just disappear like that.

Sadly, trying to find anyone tied to the Project kept leading to dead-end after dead-end. One survivor of the Project was insane and mute on top of it all, and the other was comatose. We kept trying to find her or any of her accomplices, but at this point, all we could do was wait… 

I spent the following three years after that alternating between helping Wesker build up his ‘good guy' persona, working with the BSAA when it came to various missions that required TriCell’s help in neutralizing various viruses that kept popping up, going to meetings with TerraSave representatives, and trying to figure out the conundrum that was ‘Eve slash Melissa Pierce.’ 

Honestly, out of all of that, the thing I found the easiest to handle was helping Wesker in his efforts to fool the BSAA and the UN into thinking he wasn't 'a big bad evil guy.' Ever since I'd shown up and started feeding him information, he'd been sending out carefully routed packages of information about Umbrella and the various projects they'd been working on. Sometimes the information was sent through Ada Wong herself. The wily woman was a bit of a handful, but I could see how and why Leon had briefly fallen for the woman. 

Wesker’s information reached various government agencies, laying the groundwork for his 'redeemed' persona. Some of the information was about Project W itself, of course. Even more of the information had been about Umbrella and had aided in the UN's case against Umbrella itself. Obviously, the BSAA and UN did everything they could to vet the information provided to them by 'the Morning Star,' AKA 'Lucifer,' but they had been kept in the dark about who said informant was until Wesker had built up a significant amount of goodwill. 

An informant of his caliber was important to have, after all. The UN could use resourceful individuals capable of finding such information without putting their own people at risk. It certainly helped to find out that he’d only danced circles around the Redfield Siblings during the December Ninety-eight Rockfort Incident instead of fighting them. Instead of choking Claire out like he had in the game, Wesker had trapped the girl in the facility like he had Jill back in the mansion. In a secure area where she could be found by Chris without being overwhelmed by the BOWS in the building. Neither of the Redfield’s were able to push very hard for the BSAA or the UN to try to capture Wesker as he hadn’t proven himself to be an outright threat to BSAA agents or their families. 

Overall, both the BSAA and the UN higher-ups had reacted positively once Wesker revealed that he was the lethal mercenary 'Lucifer.' Thanks to his help, more arrests were made, conspiracies to restart various programs ended, and open negotiations via a neutral party were started. Wesker had his foot in the door, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

To say that he had been pleased with the results had been putting it mildly. It was subtle, the man was all about micro-expressions that were hard to read if you didn't know him, but I could tell he had a smug, 'cat that ate the canary' air about him for days after that first meet and greet. And I had made a point of figuring out said micro-expressions early on. I'd wanted to thrive, not just survive , and knowing how to read the man had been paramount. 

He'd been in such a good mood that he'd broken out a bottle of fine wine to enjoy while working on his latest projects. He hardly ever drinked, and never when he was in a bad mood.

His attitude made the rest of the staff on our current island base wary as Hel, but it actually helped me relax. Wesker being in a good mood was a good thing as far as I was concerned. Despite the confrontation back when he'd shown me the results of Project Bifrost, he'd never hurt me. Oh, he made sure I received gun, self-defence, survival, and some 'resistance interrogation techniques' training, but that was more par for the course sort of education that most of his 'in the know' staff got to help protect themselves in case shit hit the fan.

The past week had been a rough series of days for me, though. 

I was currently working in the 'main' TriCell office on the island we were operating at, and my 'boss,' Lawrence Polk, was out of the office. I leaned back in my seat and let out a sigh, pinching at the bridge of my nose. Mr. Polk wasn’t that bad of a guy, but he was hardly ever in the office lately. That left me fielding his meetings, handling calls he was meant to handle, and, in general, making sure people at the office were doing their jobs right. He still came in for the major meetings, sure, but I was all but doing his job for him at this point. 

And it was pissing me off.

Another frustrated sigh escaped me, and I rubbed at my face. I'd just finished taking a call from one of the mission techs for the BSAA. One of Chris' units had gone on a mission in Southern Africa, and it had almost ended badly for two of the team, Dominic Williams and Amara Garcia. Something had been very off about the rest of the unit's behavior. If the tech was to be believed, then they had been acting off ever since Ms. Garcia joined the team. 

Personally, I found the younger woman a treat to talk to and work with whenever we conversed. Ms. Garcia was dedicated to the BSAA. She helped Chris with his reports, and damned if he didn't need that help even now, and did her best to keep her team alive whenever she was out on the field. A wonderful team player from all reports. But, save for Dominic, the rest of her immediate team didn't seem to return the favor. 

There wasn't much I could do. The tech had mostly just needed to vent and ask for advice. Turns out that the cameras for the other soldiers on that Africa mission had all been 'malfunctioning' during the mission. Save that is, for Ms. Garcia' and Mr. Williams' cameras. What little could be recovered from the pair's recordings could make for a negligence case, but only when it came to keeping their own equipment functional. 

It was like trying to prove that a group of bad cops were hazing or trying to kill a good cop. Almost impossible when the dirty cops knew what they were doing. 

I shook my head again and wrote up a report to send back to Chris. At the very least, the others weren’t maintaining their gear properly, and he would need to correct that behavior. At the worst, something else was going on within that group dynamic, and it needed to be rectified. This was more in the wheelhouse of the BSAA, but TriCell also needed access to those videos and reports to help us do our job of studying and countering the BOWs that the BSAA soldiers faced.

I’d just finished sending off the email to Chris when a large file landed on my desk, startling me. I looked up and found Wesker staring down at me with that trademark smirk on his face. The asshole loved startling people. He really did.

“Dr. Wesker,” I said, giving him my best ‘customer service’ smile since we were around those who weren’t ‘in the know’ like they were at the secondary, hidden lab. “What have you brought us today?”

As far as the people in this office were concerned, Wesker spent most of his time at his personal mansion gathering intel or otherwise being paid to act as an ‘on call’ consultant for TriCell and the BSAA. He'd been doing so ever since the UN had extended that first little olive branch his way. It was a bit of a hassle for me, bouncing between two different buildings and two practically full-time jobs, but... well, that was my life now. 

At least I lived smack dab in the middle of the two buildings. 

It helped that the pay was more than just 'good,' and Wesker took care of my medical bills. I had the option to take sick leave or vacation whenever it suited my needs. Not that I took sick leave or vacation leave often. What was available on paper was not necessarily available to me in reality, and I wasn’t about to push things when I didn’t need to. 

“I’ve compiled a file on another one of Umbrella’s more clandestine projects that may yet be up and running under a different company name,” he said, tilting his head at me. His eyes were hidden by his trademark glasses. Thanks to the Progenitor Virus, he'd had photophobia, or light sensitivity, since his early childhood days. “I expect the information will be useful for both the BSAA and TriCell.”

"Thank you," I said, my smile fading into a faint frown. It was probably one of the projects Wesker didn’t agree with. That or he felt it was falling apart due to poor management. “I’ll review this and get it over to the BSAA and the mainland office as soon as possible.”

“Good. Perhaps this Project can be cut off at the knees before it can ruin more lives,” he said, letting the smirk fade slightly as one of my co-workers approached us with a nervous smile. “I’ll be going now.”

He turned to leave just as abruptly as he had approached. My co-worker skirted around him like a nervous animal in the face of a greater predator that was deigning to ignore the smaller target. 

Not exactly an inaccurate thought...

“Thanks again for your hard work, Dr. Wesker,” I called after him, earning myself a small, over-the-shoulder wave as Sally Kearns moved over to my side. “Hey there, anything wrong, Sally?”

“N-no…” she took a deep breath, looking away from the blonde as Wesker stepped into the elevator and disappeared from sight. “How do you work with him?! He’s so… so…”

“Scary?” I finished for her with a laugh, opening the file to look it over.

I recognized some of what was here. Definitely one of the dead-end projects that Umbrella had lingering in the wings. Culling the chaff from the look of it. 

“Yes!” she hissed, leaning in a little closer. She didn’t try to peek at the file in my hands. She knew better than that. She was just one of the types to lean in and get quiet when gossiping with another person. “I mean, sure, he’s all dark and broody and… I mean, if you’re into that sorta thing, that’s okay, but...!”

“And why are you assuming that I am?” I asked her with a slow blink, looking up from the file to look at her with a raised brow before glancing back down.

Looking closer at the report's details, it looked like whoever was running this particular Project was trying to improve ‘Lickers’ for cold environments. Ew. Just. Ew. The damned things were bad enough as they were and, after the recent weapon design improvements, had been mostly rendered obsolete when it came to military combat. 

"Well… I mean," Sally shifted in place and tugged at a strand of her hair.

“Seriously, what the Hel brought that question on?" I asked, closing the folder and setting it on the desk, one hand covering the file. "Our relationship has been strictly professional.”

"It's just, you work with him all the time, and… I don’t know. I think I’d have requested a transfer by now if I didn’t like him like that , you know?” she said, fiddling with her bleached-blonde hair. “He’s supposed to be like, super dangerous, right?”

“He is… and I can work with someone without developing a relationship with them, Sally,” I answered with a slow sigh, glancing back at the paperwork in front of me. I had so much to do. Maybe if I was blunt she’d go back to work…? “Otherwise, I’d be flirting with you.”

“I... what!?” she let out a startled squeak that drew the attention of others. She waved a hand in apology to the others and leaned closer to me. “You’re a lesbian...?”

“Bi-sexual, actually,” I said drily, shaking my head at her antics. That had been about the reaction I’d expected. “Honestly, though, don’t worry about me flirting or anything. I try to remain strictly professional with co-workers. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

“Uh huh… and that right there is why people think you might like him,” she said with a disappointed sigh as she pushed back from my desk. “You’re like… the Ice Queen of the division.”

“Oh, how wonderful to see that nickname make a resurgence,” I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes and picking up the file with a huff. “Just what I wanted to find out today. That my high-school nickname still applies to me in some way. Ugh.”

“Oh, um… Do you not want me to use it?” she asked hesitantly. I waved my hand dismissively at her. “I mean, I won’t if you don’t-”

“People will say what they want to say, Sally,” I interrupted, my voice sounding tired. “Not much I can do to control that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to send this off to the BSAA for them to double-check.”

“O-okay, bye then,” Sally said as I stood and headed toward Polk’s office to scan the file and send it off using the secure fax line. 

Office politics were annoying at times, but it came with the territory. Hopefully, the knowledge that I was Bi would get some of the idiots to stop thinking I was in a relationship with Wesker. At the very least, it would confuse some folks and have them debating who else I might possibly be in a relationship with. The distraction would hopefully keep them busy for a while.

Honestly, as if that was ever going to happen...

Chapter Text

Amara arrived in New York around two o'clock in the afternoon. Thankfully, she had arrived at the hotel without any incident or other worrisome calls. Amara entered the hotel room and set her bag down, unpacking a few toiletries and putting them into the bathroom before collapsing back onto the bed. Despite being super tired from the flight and her looping thoughts, she knew she needed to get up and grab a bite to eat. Maybe she'd even go and get herself a nice little dress to wear for the Opera. Yawning, she forced herself off the bed and got some fresh clothes from her bag.

She walked into the large bathroom and again had to marvel at the room. Dominic had gone all out for this gift. The flooring looked like white marble, and there was a tub big enough to hold three large adults. There was even a decently sized shower along the opposite wall if someone didn't want to enjoy a bath. The countertops also looked to be made of marble and had two sinks. Even the toilet looked fancy. She shook her head and let out a soft laugh, moving to grab a towel off the nearby rack. She set it and her clothes on top of the closed toilet and took her glasses off before starting the shower.

Sure, she wore her contacts when out on missions, but she preferred her glasses when she could get away with it. It was one of the reasons why she wasn't the point man/woman of the group. That was usually Dominic's job.

Amara turned on the water and stepped into the warm spray after it heated up. She tilted her head back to let the waterfall over her… and winced as she felt her depression start to flare up once more. Putting a hand to her face, she let herself fall into a crouch under the spray of the water, tears falling freely down her cheeks. Dammit. Why was it flaring up so strongly all of a sudden? She'd finally thought that she'd gotten it all under control, and… muffled sobs escaped her as the day's events ran through her head once more. Eventually, the tears ran out, and she stood up, scrubbing herself clean and stepping out of the shower.

She felt numb… and hated it.

Growling to herself in frustration, she dried off and quickly got dressed. As much as she wanted to just lay down and wallow, her therapist had told her to stay active when moods like this hit her. It was hard, really hard actually, but after years of fighting, she had learned how to force herself to stay active even when she was tired. The trick was to think of things to do like mini-missions to complete. Most of the time, it worked. She noticed a small blue light blinking at her from her bed and blinked. She walked over and picked up her phone. She had a text from an unknown number. She tilted her head as she read the message.

Save us a couple of seats at the Opera, will you?

We're flying in tonight and should make it in time to see you there.

We've got quite a bit to talk about.

It looked as if the person was going to type more. However, for some reason, there was nothing after that last message. Wrong number, perhaps? There was no name, either toward the recipient or the sender. She shook her head and decided not to dwell on it. She finished getting ready, grabbed a fresh pair of socks and shoes, and then took out her coat, gloves, and hat.

Once bundled up and ready to brave the cold winter air, she nodded to herself. She grabbed her wallet, phone, and room key before heading to the door. Making sure everything was secure before she left, she took the elevator downstairs and exited the noisy lobby. She'd rather not deal with the crowd. Food and something nice for the Opera was what she needed. That was her current mission, and she was going to get it done!

As soon as she stepped outside, she hissed and almost turned her ass right back around for the warm interior. It wasn't just cold. The wind had picked up at some point since she'd arrived, and it was now downright frigid. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Ugh. She hated the cold. And she didn't quite know where to go… Well, the first step to any mission was information gathering, right? She sighed and stepped back inside, quickly talking to one of the attendants about a decent restaurant and clothes store.

The male attendant knew of a highly recommended Mexican restaurant nearby that sounded like it would suit her to a T. And of a clothes shop just a little further out. Both buildings were within three blocks of the hotel. Two birds with one stone. She nodded and thanked the man before heading back out.

She braved the cold once more and quickly power-walked toward the recommended restaurant. Stepping inside, she was greeted to a homely atmosphere that was welcoming and warm. Humming in contentment, she walked over to the counter and looked at the hand-written menu up on the large chalkboard. Oh! They had tamales. An older lady stepped out from the kitchen, drying her hands on a white cloth. She smiled warmly at Amara.

"Hello there, senorita, welcome to Ramon's," the older woman said in a gentle, accented voice. "What can we get started for you today?"

"Could I get a couple of beef Tamales and a medium cup of Menudo, please?" Amara asked, a hint of excitement entering her voice. Having been out of the country for so long, she was eager for a taste of home.

"Of course!" the elderly lady said with a laugh. "Anything to drink?"

"Diet coke, please," Amara responded with a grin.

Amara paid the total due and went to sit at a table next to the window. She looked outside and watched people bustle about with packages and bags full of presents or decorations in preparation for Christmas and Hanukkah, and more. She smiled faintly to herself, letting out a small sigh. How many of them were aware of just how lucky they were to be able to celebrate with their families? She shook her head and tapped her finger against the tabletop. After food, she needed to get something to wear. But what? A simple dress would probably be best.

If Tanya had been there, her friend would probably push for her to get dressed to the nines. Amara didn't really consider herself to be fashion conscious. That was Tanya's job. Another sigh escaped her. She was tempted to call her friend, but she was likely busy on a mission of her own. Amara could only hope they didn't drift any further apart, but it was starting to look like that was inevitable. She shook her head quickly.

She needed to think about something else, but… honestly, she found herself thinking about Chris once more. It's not like she'd forget her crush on the man overnight. She'd thought they'd been building a closer relationship, but… Well, it wasn't too much of a surprise to find out he was a taken man. Even if they had spent hours working together, just the two of them. Heartbroken she might be, she was happy for him. It was only obvious for him to have found someone who had been through similar hardships and battles.

In fact, looking back on things, she was surprised that she'd missed the signs. They'd been joined by Leon once before on a mission just last year to stop someone trying to distribute the T-virus in Russia. It had been a strange meeting overall, with a lot of joking insults passing between the two as the group had fought off the target's guards. It must have been their way of flirting. They'd even gone off on their own after the mission and returned looking a bit flushed in the cheeks. Really, the signs had been pretty obvious.

Loneliness tried to take root, but she quickly shook her head, glancing down at her gloved hands with a frown. Honestly, she missed being normal sometimes. Her 'powers' were effective, sure, but she still had issues controlling them sometimes. Especially when she was upset. The elderly woman approached with her food, smiling at her. To her surprise, the older woman had also included a thin slice of chocolate cake.

"I didn't," she started to say, only for the old woman to wave away the concern.

"You look like you could use a pick me up," she said with a smile and a wink. She glanced outside. "You've been watching the crowd. Anything in particular that you're looking for?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said with a blink and a faint smile. "I have a ticket to the Opera that is playing soon at Carnegie Hall. I want to get a new dress. The hotel attendant said there's a shop nearby…"

"Oh yes," the woman said with a chuckle, her hazel eyes twinkling with delight. "There's a little boutique just a block down the road. Can't miss it. You let them know that Granny Mariana sent you, and they'll take good care of you, senorita."

"That…" Amara blinked again, and her smile widened a little. "Thank you. I'll head right over after I finish eating."

Granny Mariana nodded her head, quickly writing down instructions on how to get to the shop 'just in case the crowds got too busy' and then headed back into the kitchen. Amara finished her food quickly enough and left, giving the older woman a wave goodbye. She glanced at her phone, blinking in surprise. It was nearly four o'clock already. The Opera started at seven.

She picked up her pace, following the directions that Granny Mariana had given her. Thankfully, 'Reyes Boutique' was easy to find. She hated shopping for clothes. She really did. But… a mission was a mission. She nodded her head and squared her shoulders, stepping into the boutique. The bell above the door chimed cheerfully. Amara glanced around and relaxed a little. The atmosphere was quaint and homey. Not bad. Tempted as she was to turn right the hell around and just go in her usual clothes, the voice calling from the back stopped her in her tracks.

"Hello," a male voice called out. "Welcome to Reyes Boutique shop. Anything I can help you with?"

A broad-shouldered, tall man stepped out from the back, and she blinked up at him. At a glance, the guy looked to be ex-military of some sort. Short cropped hair and a neatly trimmed black goatee and eyes that had definitely seen things no civilian had seen. She shook her head quickly and moved over, offering the man a small smile. No time to waste.

"Hi, um…" she paused nervously and coughed into her hand. "Granny Mariana sent me this way. I need a dress for the Opera that's going to happen?"

"Ah!" the man laughed and nodded his head. "I see my Abuela sent you my way. Must be someone special to have caught her attention like that. Come on, let's head to the back and get your measurements, si?"

"Gabriel!" a male voice called from the back in playful annoyance. "You didn't even introduce yourself! What have I told you?"

Amara glanced to the side and saw a blonde male step out from a side room. He, too, was a broad-shouldered male but had bright blue eyes the color of the spring sky. He radiated an aura of kindness and authority both. The dark-haired male, Gabriel, apparently let out a bark of laughter.

"You are right, amore. Forgive my lack of manners," he said, turning back to Amara with a hint of amusement in his eyes. He gave her a playful bow. "I am Gabrial Reyes Morrison, and this is my husband, Jack Morrison Reyes."

Amara smiled back at them and nodded her head. Mentally, she was sighing to herself. Why was it that all the attractive men were either taken or assholes? She shook her head to clear it and held it out to the men, shaking hands with both of them. Each of them looked pleased by her politeness.

"Amara Garcia," she said in a soft voice. "It's nice to meet you both."

The next twenty minutes were a blur of movement as the men took her measurements and helped her try different dresses. Ugh. She wished Tanya was there. Each new dress seemed to just not be what she was hoping to find. They felt clunky, and either didn't suit her skin tone or hung wrong even after some test adjustments. Maybe she wasn't suited to wear gowns...

"No need to look so down, chica," Jack said, playfully bopping her forehead. 'We have one more dress that may suit you."

"Si, sometimes it is the best that is saved for last," Gabriel said as he exited the back room, a black gown folded in his arms. "I think this will be the dress."

He held out the dress, letting Amara see the beautiful gown with a low back and a neck strap to hold it in place. It had slits on each side and would reveal her legs up to about mid-thigh. A sheer, lacy skirt overlay glimmered in the light and a little bit of that same lace around the dress's collar. She smiled, slipping into the dressing room to try it on at their urging and let out a pleased hum when she found that it fit without issue this time around. Gabriel and Jack let out low wolf-whistles and clapped their hands as she stepped out of the fitting room.

Thankfully, working for the BSAA paid handsomely, and she was able to easily afford the dress and a matching pair of half-inch heels. She thanked both of them and bundled back up in her winter clothes to brave the walk back to the hotel. Still cold as balls, but it was bearable this time around now that she'd completed her imposed missions. The dress was perfect for the night. And she had just enough time for a quick shower and to dry her hair.

Her phone went off as she tried out different hairstyles, and she let out a small meep of noise. She quickly got dressed, switching her wallet, gun, and concealed carry permit into her purse before heading for the door. Her glasses were left on the bathroom counter, traded out for a pair of contacts. She paused and frowned as she noticed the scar on her chest. She shook her head quickly, grabbed her black jacket, and moved out the door. To her surprise, a limo was waiting outside for her. The driver even had her name written on a board. She chuckled at Dominic's perfectionist nature and walked over, waving at the limo driver. He smiled in turn and opened the back door for her. The drive to the Hall was short enough that they arrived with several minutes to spare. The limo driver opened the door from her and gave her a polite bow.

"Enjoy the opera, ma'am," the driver said, "I will be back to pick you up once the evening's performance is done."

"Thank you," she said, giving him another smile and fishing out a quick fifty-dollar tip.

The man bowed his head a second time, and Amara headed inside, handing her ticket to the concierge before being led to her seat. She settled into her seat, and a few moments later, the lights began to dim. A contented noise escaped her as the lead actress began to tell her character's story. It was riveting. The actors were experts at their craft. Still, despite her enjoyment of the play, something had her on edge. Something about the masked main actress was familiar to her, and not in a good way.

The actress's eyes trailed over the crowd as she started to sing. That golden-brown gaze met her own, and she froze. She knew those eyes!

She started to stand up, to shout a warning, but it was too late. One of the actors on stage caught fire, letting out a startled scream. He fell back, flailing and trying to put out the flames, only to stumble into the stage curtains. The flames spread from there like a wildfire in the middle of summer. People were screaming and trying to flee the building.

It was just like back then...

A howl sounded from above her, and her head jerked upwards. She could see a man in the upper stage area flailing about, also on fire. He slipped from the metal bridges above the crowd, and she quickly flung herself out of her seat and over the chairs in front of her. A loud 'thud' sounded behind her, and she turned slowly to look at the corpse. Her purse had fallen to the ground in her bid to avoid being crushed beneath the man, and her gun had tumbled out of the bag. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the weapon and flipped the safety off, turning to glare toward the stage.

The main actress stood there amidst the chaos, just like last time. Uncaring and smiling at the havoc she'd wrought upon the people. Amara was near the front of the audience, so she was able to quickly leap over the front rows of seats and past the now emptied band area to scramble up onto the stage. She aimed the gun at the woman.

"BSAA!" she shouted, voice stern and angry. "Hands where I can see them! Now!"

"Well," the woman followed her movements, amusement filling her eyes. Her voice remained sultry and carried over the screams of the crowd. "You seem to be the only one here unaffected. Why…? Oh… I know you. How wonderful. You should fully awaken soon..."

"I…" Amara shook her head, knowing her expression was likely linked with her confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

To Amara's surprise, the woman rose in the air several feet.

"I said, 'what do you mean?!'" Amara snapped, keeping her gun trained on the woman. "Explain yourself! And cease attacking the people here! Now!"

"Can't you hear them?" the woman asked instead of answering Amara. Her hands rose in the air, and her expression turned gleeful. Rapturous. "Your cells are trying to communicate with you. Calling out to you…!"

Amara felt the air around her shift as if it was suddenly charged with energy. The actress's eyes began to glow a bluish-green, and little specks of light gathered around her form. The woman lowered one hand toward Amara, and the light began to coalesce in front of the woman's palm. Eyes widening, Amara darted to the side just in time to avoid taking a direct shot from a… a sharp beam of light. The light grazed her side and went on to hit some of the stage props, which immediately caught on fire. Not wasting a second, Amara spun and shot twice at the floating woman.

But the actress just laughed.

Amara snarled, moving to step toward her, and then froze as a dizzying wave of heat hit her. Hard. It lasted only for a moment, and she felt fine afterward. In fact, she felt better than fine. She glanced down at her side, where she'd been clipped by the beam, and while her dress was still damaged, her skin wasn't.

"Just as I thought," the actress said, sounding delighted.

"I…" Amara's gaze snapped back to the woman, gun lifting once more. "What the hell did you do to me?!"

The woman casually flicked her hand out instead of answering her, and another beam was launched toward Amara. Once more, Amara dodged to the side, rolling back to her feet and keeping her weapon trained on the obvious threat. Every shot from her gun was either dodged or outright ignored by the other woman. Eventually, she paused and let out a low sigh, smiling.

"Our bodies are communicating with each other. Can you feel it?" the woman asked, sounding pleased. "The power that you have obtained… The more you use it… The more you'll become like me…"

"Power?" Amara hissed, anger and grief filling her. "You mean this damned curse that you gave me?! It's your fault I'm like this! What did you do to me?! Who are you?!"

"My name is… Eve," the woman responded, tilting her head. "I'm surprised you don't know that already. You should know me very well…"

"'Eve?'" Amara repeated with a surprised blink. "I don't…"

Amara's vision went white for a moment, and she fell to one knee. Memories of her childhood flickered through her mind, namely her time spent in a hospital bed recovering from… No. She shook her head, struggling to get back to her feet. 'Eve' laughed softly and landed on the ground before walking toward the stage exit.

"Dammit, stop! I said `freeze!'" Amara shouted angrily. "You're under arrest for acts of bioterrorism! You-!"

Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she stumbled, shaking her head violently. When she finally got her bearings back, Eve was gone. Amara shook her head angrily and darted down the exit the woman had taken. Once past the curtains, she froze and frowned down at a large hole in the floor. Readying her weapon, she eased closer to the hole and glanced into the darkness below. Her gut was telling her that the woman had fled through the impromptu exit. Frowning, she checked her magazine and shook her head.

"Dammit," she muttered softly. "Only two bullets left, and I don't have a spare mag… shit."

She glanced around the area and noticed the burnt corpse of a man near the hole. There was a security badge hanging around the man's neck. That… might be useful. She walked over to the man's body and checked him over. He was armed but hadn't had a chance to defend himself. She checked over the ammo pouches and found the knot of tension in her spine ease.

They had the same model gun.

She carefully undid the ammo belt and wrapped it around her waist, having to tie it off since the belt was too big for her. She took out her old magazine and replaced it with a fresh one, tucking the nearly spent magazine into one of the pouches. After a moment, she reached out and closed the man's unseeing eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice. "I'll stop her. I promise I'll stop her..."

Amara walked back over to the hole and was about to climb down when the sound of police and fire department sirens reached her ears. She weighed the option of waiting for backup but shook her head. There was no telling if any of the officers that arrived were used to dealing with BOWs. She had the training, though, and had faced several such creatures alone before.

She dropped down to the room below. The room itself was empty, and a single door opened out into a lit hallway. She would have started forward, but there was a little girl in front of her with black hair pulled back into twin tails with little beads dangling from the ends of her hair ties. Brown eyes looked up at her, and the girl smiled.

"Did you see a lady come down here, sweetie?" Amara asked gently. The girl's smile widened, and she pointed down the hall. Amara nodded once. "It's dangerous down here. I can help you get back up out of the hole. Are your parents up there too?"

The girl giggled instead of answering her and spun in a small circle, letting her dress spin around her. She then darted down the hallway, and… disappeared? Amara blinked rapidly and rubbed at her eyes, trying not to dislodge her contacts. That had been odd.

"Who…" Amara shook her head again. "Why did she look so familiar...?"

Pushing away the weirdness of the incident, she proceeded through the doorway and into the hallway. She glanced around the area and noticed that several doors lined the Hall. As Amara moved down the Hall, she checked each of the doors. The first three were locked. Growling low in her throat in frustration, she almost missed the sounds of a rat squeaking in pain. She turned toward the noise, gun raised and watched as the small thing twist and writhe, turning into one of the monstrous little BOWs she'd encountered years ago.

"Well, shit," she swore, quickly firing on the thing before it could finish transforming.

Two bullets hit the beast dead on, and it let out a pained squeal. It managed to dodge the last bullet, and Amara had to dart to the side to avoid the charging animal. To her surprise, the rat managed to chuck a fireball at her, and she twisted to the side. The heat splashed against the stone walls, and she turned back around, returning the favor. The giant rat squealed as her flames licked over its body, writhing about before falling to the ground, dead. She put an extra bullet in it, just to be sure, and watched as the thing dissolved into a puddle of orangish goo.

Again, just like the opera event years ago…

Amara let out a heavy sigh and continued down the Hall, checking each door as she went. Finally, one of the handles moved, and she backed against the wall as she pushed the door open slowly. Amara stepped into the room and winced at the sight of two more burnt bodies. Memories plagued her for a moment before she shook her head and pushed them away. Now wasn't the time. She had to stop the other woman before she killed anyone else.

She started back toward the door and twisted about when one of the 'corpses' let out a pained groan. Keeping her gun raised, she moved over to the body. She'd had to put down more than one zombie BOW before. She hated doing it, but she would if she needed to. Instead of white-cataract eyes, however, pained brown eyes met her own. A startled noise escaped her, and she moved to the person's side.

"Hang on," she said in a gentle but urgent voice. "Hold on for me. There are paramedics in front of the opera house. I can-"

"Meh… me…" the voice was dry, crackling, and feminine. They managed to raise their hand and touched Amara's weakly. "Melissa…. Mn… mon… ster… monster…"

"Melissa?" Amara repeated with a blink. She shook her head. "I know she's responsible. You need to save your strength. I can get you out of here-"

"N-no… too… lah… late…" the woman said with a weak shake of her head. "Suh… Suh... zanne… She… may have… Suzanne… sah… save… Suh…"

Tears pricked at Amara's eyes as the woman went limp, eyes glazing over. Guilt hit her like a freight train. Why was it that they were always too late? Tears started to stream down her face, and she quickly scrubbed at her face. Now wasn't the time to break down. Not with a BOW active and on the loose. She gently closed the woman's eyes and stood up.

"I am so sorry. I'll stop here," Amara repeated her promise from earlier in a soft voice.

Seeing no other exit to the room, she slipped outside and closed the door behind her. She moved down the Hall and carefully opened the next unlocked door, gun raised and ready in case she ran into more of the damned rats. Instead, she found a male survivor cowering behind a desk. He waved toward an open safe and backed away with his hands raised when he saw her gun.

"You can have the money!" he yelled out. "It's all in there!"

"Calm down," she said in a firm voice, raising a brow at the man. "I'm with the BSAA, and I am searching for survivors. It's dangerous down here. You need to evacuate immediately. There's a hole leading to the floor above us back the way I came. You should be able to climb up safely."

"Sure thing, toots!" the man said, quickly scrambling past her and down the Hall. "I ain't dyin' here!"

Before Amara could move to follow, a high-pitched shriek filled the air. Startled, she bolted out the door, gun raised. The sight that greeted her almost made her retch. The man she'd just found was nothing more than a burnt corpse. She could see bone. Looking away quickly, she grit her teeth and marched down the Hall determinedly. Piano music filled the air, and she slowed down, wary. There was one last door at the end of the Hall. She tried the handle, only to find it locked. She could just bust down the door, but hopefully, she could find a key and take the person inside by surprise.

She searched the room closest to her, realizing that it was Melissa's, Eve's, room. It took a few minutes, but she was able to find a key labeled 'Rehearsal room.' Perfect. She also lucked out in finding a flashlight. Amara turned to leave the room and stopped as she spotted a phone on the nearby desk. Her own flip phone was still in her purse, forgotten on the floor near her seat. Walking over, she quickly dialed Chris' work phone and frowned when it went to voicemail.

"Chris, this is Amara," she said, keeping her tone as level as possible. "I don't have much time. I'm at Carnegie Hall in New York and… Chris, it's happening again. Just like when we first met… I'm on the tail of the woman responsible and hope to bring her in. I… get reinforcements here quickly, just in case."

She hung up and quickly darted for the locked room. Quietly slipping the key into the lock, she unlocked the door and eased the door open. Gun raised, she peeked into the room and saw the woman sitting at a grand piano, playing a haunting melody. Amara eased closer, step by step, gun raised. She froze when the woman stopped playing and started muttering out loud.

"My name… is Melissa," she said in a weak voice, her hands shaking. Her head twitched to the side. "I am… an actress… I am… No! I am… Please! No… I… am… Eve…"

"Shit," Amara swore under her breath and stumbled back. She could practically feel the heat emanating from the other woman. "Put your hands where I can see them!"

"Ah… much better," the woman said, her voice clear and confident. Sinister. Her fingers began to dance over the keys, continuing the haunting melody from before. "Nucleic domination has finally come to an end once and for all."

Eve's hands slammed down onto the piano keys, causing several of the ivory teeth to break under the force of the blow. Amara jerked back, eyes flying wide as the woman's hands grew in size. The fingers lengthened, and the nails grew sharp and long. The woman's hair rose on its own to twist into four crown-like spikes. The dress melted and flowed around her until it went still, leaving her shoulders and stomach bare. Eve's body rose into the air, and the woman's legs seemed to melt together to form a blue, tail-like appendage that flowed back and forth as if the woman was swimming in the air.

"Yes… oh yes," Eve threw back her head, letting out a melodic, sinister laugh. "Once more, I am free. The day of the Mitochondria has arrived!"

Eve's head turned to the side, and she smiled as if just now taking note of Amara's presence. Light gathered in the woman's hand, and Amara yelped, dodging to the side to avoid the beams of light. Laughing, Eve lowered her hands and smirked at Amara as the other woman hefted her gun and took fire on the humanoid BOW. Like before, the bullets did nothing to actually harm the woman. Cursing, Amara quickly reloaded her gun and tried to take aim, only to duck as Eve rushed forward to backhand her with a large hand.

Despite her attempt to dodge, the blow clipped Amara in the shoulder, sending her flying back toward the far wall. She hit hard, letting out a pained yelp, but she managed to catch herself and avoid collapsing into a heap. Heat pulsed through her, and the pain in her shoulder immediately started to fade. She pushed to her feet, frowning, but she had little time to wonder as to why it felt like she was healing impossibly fast. Eve was throwing more energy shots her way. Rather than waste more bullets, Amara focused on her flame abilities and launched a fireball at the other woman. Eve took the hit, and she laughed, tilting her head as she looked Amara over.

"It looks as if you will need more time," she said with a sadistic smile. "And then your Mitochondria will be free…"

"You said that before," Amara growled, feeling more than a little exhausted after using her flames. "What are you talking about? My mitochondria? What do you mean?"

Amara's vision abruptly whited out, and she could see the little girl from earlier. On a hospital bed this time. Next to Amara. Why was that scene familiar? They were both so little, and... she shook her head to clear it. Looking around the room, she cursed under her breath. Eve had used her distraction to flee the area.

"Dammit," she hissed again, looking around for signs of where the mutated woman had gone. "The hell did she mean by that?"

She glanced at the piano and frowned. There were scorch marks all over the bench. Amara walked over to the area and found yet another hole in the ground, this one deeper and smelling of shit and rot and piss. She turned the flashlight on and angled it down the hole. A grimace curled her lips downwards. Great. The sewers. How fun...

"No choice..." she muttered, taking a slow breath before finding a safe route to climb down the hole.

She got about partway before she had to let go and fall the rest of the way down onto the walkway below. Rolling to her feet, she lifted her gun and flashlight to shine the light down the tunnel. The way to her right was blocked by an intact grate. Nodding to herself, she turned to follow the only path the other woman could have taken. Disgust filled her as the sewage water sloshed up occasionally onto the stone walkway that the workers used. She hated missions like this. It took forever to get rid of the sewage stench.

Frustration filled her as yet another group of mutated rats climbed out of various bits of sewage debris. Mentally cursing her luck, she fought the three off as best she could, using her gun and flames. Amara got bit more than once, but her innate healing abilities allowed her to recover from most of the nasty wounds. It took her a few minutes to take out the damned things, fast as they were, and she had to reload once more. She rolled her shoulders and hissed at a sudden sharp burst of pain.

A glance at her arm showed her that one of the bites hadn't healed all the way yet. Damn. She was getting close to her limits. She'd have to hold off on any fireballs for the time being. Amara found a clean patch of her dress and tore off a strip, using it to bind the wound. It was the best she could do until she either found a medic or got enough energy back for her body to heal the wound.

The faint sounds of a little girl crying caught her ear, coming from the path to the right. Amara rushed forward, gun raised, and almost walked face-first into a giant ass mutated frog. Her nose curled in disgust, and she backed up warily. She didn't have much in the way of ammo left. Turning around, she darted down the other path, past two flights of stairs that had additional giant frogs milling about.

Eager, hungry croaking filled the air behind her, and she cursed. There had to be a way out of here... there! The girl again. And she was... running through a grated door? Amara shook her head, and the girl was gone. What the hell was going on? Was it Eve or something else? Regardless, she knew she couldn't fight the frogs in her condition. She bolted for the door and found a switch next to it, which she hit with her palm.

The door opened, letting her through, and she found another switch on the other side. A quick smack of her hand later, and the frogs were stuck on the other side, croaking loudly in anger that their prey had escaped. Her relief was short-lived, as when she turned around, she saw Eve at the far end of the tunnel they were in. Snarling, Amara ran after the woman, gun raised.

"Don't move!" Amara shouted. "Hands where I can see them!"

"Oh?" Eve turned and smiled coyly at her, lips curling upward to show off her sharp teeth. "Are you trying to take me on? Are you sure you can do that by yourself? No matter... it's not like you could bring someone with you, now could you? They'd just burn like the others."

"Explain it to me then!" Amara growled through clenched teeth. "Why am I the one who survived both your attacks?"

"Don't worry..." Eve said with a laugh. "You'll find out in time. Don't be afraid when the change comes. Your Mitochondria will know what to do. They always know."

"The hell do you mean by that?!" Amara demanded.

"Shhh," Eve said, smiling in an almost motherly way. "I'm going to give you some time to think. To evolve. When the day comes, you will finally awaken, and it will be glorious..."

Before Amara could react, Eve floated toward the gates barring further passage onward and just... melted through the bars. A large portion of orange goop remained behind, setting over something on the other side of the gate while Eve made her escape. Amara watched with wide eyes as a massive shape tore through the bars and lumbered toward her with a twisted hissing sound that was vaguely familiar to her.

The beast's now-massive head rose up, long jaws opening wide before snapping shut with a terrifying 'clap' of sound. A giant alligator. Of course, it was a giant alligator! Just her fucking luck!

Amara quickly took aim and fired at the beast's head, aiming for its eyes. The creature let out a wail as one of the bullets hit its mark. It charged as she loaded up her last magazine, and she tried to dodge out of the way. The main bulk of its body missed her, but the tail lashed out lightning fast to send her flying into the far wall.

Heat spread through her at a sluggish rate. Her healing abilities were all but at their limit now. The massive jaw opened, and she scrambled to the side to avoid what amounted to a gout of flame spilling from its massive mouth. She took careful aim as she rolled to her feet, aiming for its empty eye socket.

If she could just puncture the brain...!

It darted for her, faster than it looked, and she had to roll to avoid its massive clawed feet. The claws barely scraped her stomach, opening a hole in her dress and the skin beneath but thankfully not disemboweling her. She ran to get some distance between them, risking throwing a fireball at the damned thing's head. The creature howled and flailed briefly before charging her a second time.

She twisted around, firing the last rounds of her gun at the damaged eye socket. It wrenched itself back with a strangled hissing roar, tail and limbs flailing every which way. Amara had to scramble back, tucking herself in the far corner to avoid the flailing limbs. Eventually, it fell still and melted into a puddle of orangish goo.

Panting, Amara glanced around for Eve and then slammed her fist against the ground in frustration. The woman was gone. And she was out of ammo and energy. Persuing the mutated woman now was tantamount to suicide. Amara pushed herself back to her feet and slowly made her way back to the surface.

Hopefully, Chris had gotten her voicemail... The BSAA was needed in New York.

Chapter Text

I was in the middle of driving home when I remembered something important. Eve hadn't just attacked a random opera house in the middle of a small city in the middle of bloody nowhere but had also staged a major attack at Carnegie Hall itself. I quickly took a side street and looped around, heading for the second lab.

I had to force myself not to speed on the way there. Didn't need the cops on my ass causing trouble when I had no time. Once there, I parked and quickly fast-walked to Wesker's office and, thankfully, he was alone, his door open. I darted inside without knocking, and he raised a brow at me as I closed the door. He locked the door behind me when he noticed my contained yet harried expression and leaned back in his seat.

"Is there an emergency, Ms. Kvale?" he asked, looking bemused.

"Carnegie Hall!" I hissed as I moved over to his desk. "I just remembered as I was heading home. My friends joked about how Parasite Eve started with an attack on Carnegie Hall itself."

"Do you recall when?" he asked with a frown, expression turning serious.

"Sometime in December," I said with a wave of my hand and I winced. Given that it was late December right now, we had very little time to prepare if the attack was meant to occur this year.

He nodded thoughtfully and started making several calls. I pinched the bridge of my nose and paced while he talked to his contacts, trying to recall anything else that might help. A more precise date. Anything. The most I could recall was, given we were kids at the time, my friends had wished that something like the game's events had occurred during the performance that they'd been dragged to see by their parents. Because that would have made things interesting. It would have made it fun.

Maybe they could even play the hero and save the day...

Sure.

With my warning, Wesker was able to remotely hack into the security systems just in time to catch the main attack as it happened that night. Through that, we were able to witness the way Eve's powers worked. And it wasn't interesting or fun at all. It was outright horrifying. Horrifying and disgustingly fascinating all at the same time. And I'd gotten used to seeing some pretty messed up shit as Wesker's assistant. Especially when Wesker wasn't just trying to isolate beneficial traits of the viruses but also vaccines. The many experiments involving the Nemesis, the Crimson Head, and the Licker branches of BOWs could get pretty vile sometimes, regardless of the end goal. Never mind the Las Plagas shit that Leon had needed to deal with while keeping the President's daughter safe.

The efforts could get nasty and sometimes dangerous enough to be put down, and yet somehow, Eve's abilities topped my 'disgusting as fuck' chart.

It was probably because she could quite literally liquify people…

Wesker took notes and tried to get what he could, but even he could not get much without a more timely warning of the attack. He was a bit annoyed, but… honestly, there wasn't much I could do about that. I'd gone to him the moment that I'd remembered. Hel, I'd believed us to be past the 'opening' part of that story given the small-town opera house that had been targeted a few years back.

Still, limited though we were in what we could do, we were able to gather some information.

The biggest lead we had were the three survivors of the attack on the Hall; the BSAA agent, Amara Garcia, a young NYPD rookie cop, Aya Brea, who had shown her own set of weird abilities during her escape, and Aya's date for the evening, Alex Wickers.

Now Aya and Amara? Both women were too high profile to just 'disappear' for no reason. Especially since Amara Garcia was with the BSAA. Alex Wickers, though? A regular paper-pusher at a large corporate office with no family and few friends to speak of? Someone who could be easily nabbed in the middle of the whole kerfuffle without anyone being notified? Yeeeeah… Wesker had acquired a new test subject! Yay!

Please note the sarcasm...

The man was quietly captured and flown in on a high-speed private jet and secretly tucked into one of the back labs, drugged into a comatose state. As the only non-female, non-powered individual who survived the attack, he was a near-perfect neutral test subject for Wesker to work on. The goal right now was to see why he had survived when others hadn't and if that effect could be duplicated. If Mr. Wickers was indeed a male carrier of the dormant Eve gene, it boosted our chances of making a preventative or neutralizing agent to protect our agents in the field.

Number one rule when developing man-made viruses? Always, always develop a vaccine to counter the damned thing before using it.

As I watched and took notes while Wesker worked, I got partially lost in thought, having fallen into a rhythm with him a while back now. Enough so that I could multitask or just think about things... Like I was doing now.

I like to think I'm not a bad person. I haven't killed anyone directly since arriving, stayed out of the way, and just... yeah. Still, as I stared down at the unconscious man, dutifully taking notes, I found myself wondering if I was simply deluding myself. I'd become numb to a lot of the horrors that could occur on this world. Mission report photos needed to be sorted through and routed to the right teams after all, and I did a lot of that work myself. It probably didn't help that I still occasionally found myself thinking of things in game terms.

To be fair, some things really did work almost exactly the way they were portrayed in the damned games. The herbs used in the games? Green, blue and red herbs? Yeah, those were specially grown, genetically enhanced, super-powered variants of marijuana that worked remarkably well to boost the body's recovery speed. Mix them together, and you had one Hel of a 'first aid' spray.

There was a reason that Umbrella had previously had enough money to start working on fucking Bio-Weapons. The stuff worked great to help stabilize people in the middle of an active battlefield or even during at-home emergencies as long as the wound wasn't a mortal one. Even then, the herbs could help to at least buy time for those at death's door. If they reached the right facilities for treatment, that is. As such, I always kept a few fresh potted plants of the Weed-variants in my office and in my home. Always keep supplies close, right?

I forcibly centered my thoughts as I jotted down a few more notes for Wesker. Mental tangents aside, I found myself bothered by the fact that I hadn't been bothered by Mr. Wickers' abrupt kidnapping. To him being... well, less a test subject so far and more of a subject to be examined for potential answers. Sure, he was being kept unconscious, but that didn't change the fact that I hadn't objected.

"Done with your wool-gathering?" Wesker asked in a dry tone as he finished filling up the last few vials with Mr. Wickers' blood.

"Apologies," I responded with a faint wince, ducking my head down. "Do you believe we'll find anything in his Mitochondria like we would with Eve or the other two survivors given the video evidence of them both having powers?"

"Even if the trait is dormant, we should find traces within his blood," Wesker said, watching me for a moment before turning away and placing the vials into a vial rack for ease of transport. "The scientists of Project Eve had succeeded in making modifications to the Mitochondrial Sequence in a person's body, even if the results of their efforts are no longer available to us. We should be able to retrace their steps using a potential Null-effect subject like Mr. Wickers here."

"Will we be focusing on duplicating Eve's powers first if possible or on an inhibitor?" I asked, tucking the clipboard under my arm and taking the rack from Wesker when he passed it to me.

"Inhibitor," he said in a firm voice. "This Eve seems to be an uncontrollable factor so far. A way to counter her abilities will be paramount, given the damage she's done already. Take these to the labs. Tell them I want results within the hour."

"Yes, sir," I said with a nod, moving quickly.

I may have picked up several things here and there over the years, but I was no trained expert. Wesker, however, was used to working with DNA, RNA, and viruses in general, so he was really the best one to figure the whole mess out. Hel, I was still having a hard time understanding how the Progenitor and T-virus could, if compatible, bond with its host and act more like a symbiote than a virus. Boosting its host to keep the subject, like Wesker and Alex, alive and well when most viruses tore their hosts apart from the inside. And that was with my Bachelors.

Oh well, working on a Master's degree later would hopefully help me fill in the blanks…

An hour later and we had our confirmation. Mr. Wickers was indeed a dormant carrier of the Eve strain. Wesker had drawn more blood and immediately started working on an inhibitor to hopefully help protect our field agents from Eve's abilities. He had also deemed it for the best that Mr. Wickers remain unconscious and out of the way for the time being. We might find ourselves needing his blood later to run further tests. It was a bit of a relief to hear that Wesker might even release the man later once we were done.

Given that he hadn't seen anything of our operations and had been unconscious this whole time, it was a possibility. Slim, but still an option once things were all said and done.

By the end of that very day, Wesker had a preliminary inhibitor made and ready for the first round of testing. The man's level of intelligence still surprised me on occasion. Ideally, the inhibitor would protect the subject injected from being burned to a crisp, melted into goo, or otherwise twisted into some unholy amalgamation of a beast like the weird rats. Now, we just needed a chance to test things out in the field.

Now that we had a general idea of what to look for, given that the performance at the Hall was announced last minute, Wesker's agents had found flyers announcing that our target, Melissa slash Eve, was going to sing at the park on Christmas day. There was no online announcement, nothing on the news. No, just a small series of flyers passed out to the local populace. The locals who handed out the flyers were just teenagers trying to make a quick buck, so nothing to go on as far as finding the damned woman.

There would be, at minimum, a few hundred people in that crowd. If not closer to a thousand. And the survival rate of people caught in the woman's attacks so far had been less than one percent. The odds were certainly stacked against us when it came to the upcoming experiment. Still, we had to test the inhibitor. Had to get our people in close enough to see if it worked or not.

A Tango team was already being formed in preparation for the coming event. They'd be spaced out amongst the crowd to test how well the inhibitor worked based on the distance between them and the target. I was tentatively hopeful that those who joined the team would survive the encounter but knew better than to hope too strongly. If they did make it, we might have a better chance of potentially capturing and containing Eve.

Which... Really didn't seem wise...

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked as we reached the elevator leading back up to the main floor. "Trying to capture Ms. Pierce, that is...?"

"Capturing the subject would be highly beneficial, Ms. Kvale," Wesker responded with a smirk.

"Or just plain dangerous," I countered hesitantly. "We don't know the full range of Eve's abilities, nor do we know if she can use those abilities while unconscious. I only have so much information to provide. What if her creatures zero in on her and try to rescue her after she's captured? She's dangerous."

"As am I," he countered with a small, amused huff.

"You can't melt people at a distance," I pointed out with a tiny huff of my own. "I'd feel a little better about this whole thing if we had a way to safely warn Chris and the others."

"No," Wesker shook his head after a moment of tense silence. "There's no way to warn them without tipping our hand. We continue as planned. The inhibitor can be explained away as a result of examining the remains found at the scene of the attack. Warning them of Eve's abilities and her pets in advance of what has already been revealed to them will merely lead to them asking more questions. Patience, Lorraine."

"Yes, sir," I responded as we stepped off the elevator.

I followed after him, tension singing through my shoulders for a moment before I let out a breath. He only used my 'first' name whenever he wanted to make a point. And I knew the point he wanted to make.

The me from before all of this would have probably warned Chris, Leon, or this new girl, Amara, who had never existed in the games to my knowledge, that shit was going to go down. Regardless of his not-so-subtle warning to keep my mouth shut. Eve was dangerous, and I might have been dumb enough to take the chance to warn them years ago of just how serious a threat she might be.

The me now knew better than to go against Wesker. Not just because I owed him my life and very livelihood, but because I knew damned well what happened to traitors who turned against him…

They tend to either disappear or become experiments themselves.

And the one thing I am not is an idiot.

Chapter Text

Amara limped toward the front doors of Carnegie Hall, holding her left side. Either she'd pulled something during that last fight, or she had a cracked rib. Either way, it hadn't been a pleasant walk. Several large searchlights were set up, and a line of media hounds all chomping at the bit to get past the 'Do Not Cross' tape that barred them from entering. She almost groaned at the sight. No matter the country, the media was usually butting their noses in where it wasn't safe. She didn't care that they could smell a story. No, it was their sheer stupidity regarding their own safety that made her cringe whenever she saw them. Especially when BOWs were involved. 

Two tall figures were barking orders at the reporters who were trying to push their way forward. It took her a moment to recognize Chris and Leon both. Good. Chris had gotten her message... but... how had they gotten here so fast?

Amara frowned at the thought, looking at the two men blankly as they approached her. Worry was etched clearly over their faces. Worry for her? Was she really that much of a mess? Blinking, she straightened up as she realized their mouths were moving. They were talking to her, but... everything was just background noise. The sudden press of a hand on her shoulder jolted her out of her dazed state. Sound flowed back in like the tide.

"I'm sorry, Captain," she said tiredly, turning to blink at the tall brunette. "What did you say?"

"Amara?" Chris was looking down at her, concern written clear in his eyes. "Are you alright? What happened here?"

"It was the same as the event in Marcell, sir," she said, running a hand through her mussed hair. "The actress, Melissa, was acting crazy and suddenly started calling herself Eve when I confronted her in the lower levels of the Hall... she-"

Amara would have said more, except an officer walked over, looking stressed, and he leaned over to whisper hurriedly into Chris' ear. Chris let out a muttered curse and nodded to Amara.

"I'll get the full debrief after I deal with this," Chris said. "Get some rest."

"Sir," she responded with a nod and a wince. 

Chris walked off, barking orders at the other officers on the scene, sending the men and women scrambling in a mess of organized chaos. A calloused hand closed around her right hand, where she still had a death-grip on her gun. She started, turning her head and freezing as she met Leon's light blue eyes. Leon smiled gently at her and carefully extracted the gun from her grip, flipping the safety on. He tucked it into the back of his trousers and then gently laid a hand on her shoulder. 

"Come on," Leon said in a soothing voice. "You need to have someone check over your injuries."

"No... no need," she said with a dazed shake of her head. "I heal quickly. I just need to rest. I can make my way back to the hotel room on my own, and I can have a report drawn up for what happened by tomorrow."

She brushed away his hand and turned away, intending to avoid causing a scene. He moved up beside her, hand raised to lightly press against her arm. Amara stopped and blinked up at him with a frown. 

"I can understand not wanting to see a field medic," he said in a gentle but firm tone. "But I am not about to leave you alone right now. Not when you look about ready to fall asleep on your feet."

Amara could tell that there was going to be no changing his mind. She let out a sigh and nodded her head tiredly. 

"You also know that we have to check over everyone immediately after incidents like this for potential infections," Leon continued. She winced. He was right. As much as she wanted to just go to sleep, they couldn't afford an outbreak just because she was tired. "If you don't want one of the on-site medics to look you over, then I can at least gather the blood samples needed for after combat blood-work. It's not something to sit on."

"I remember, Agent Kennedy," Amara said with another tired sigh. 

"Good," he smiled at her and gave her arm a gentle pat. "Let's head out. You'll need to lead the way."

Leon turned around long enough to signal something at Chris. The other man waved at him before turning back to coordinate the local authorities. As Amara let Leon past the crowd, a dark-skinned female officer walked over to them and cleared her throat. 

"Excuse me, Ms. Garcia, yes?" the woman asked.

"Yes?" Amara stopped and blinked at the other woman, tired eyes meeting bright green orbs. 

"Name's Michelle Williams," the woman said, removing her hat and letting her long curly hair fall loose around her shoulders. "I believe you happen to know my idiot big brother, Dominic?"

"You..." Amara blinked again and then smiled at the other woman. "Yes. He's told me a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope?" Michelle asked with a laugh before her expression turned serious. "He was let out of iso early given the situation and gave me a call. Asked me to escort you back to your hotel if you were located and make sure you were safe. I have my squad car nearby."

"I... thank you," Amara said. "I'd appreciate the lift."

Leon said something, but Amara found her mind drifting again. Her side ached something fierce. Heck, her everything hurt. The fights down in the sewers hadn't been a cakewalk, that was for certain. Leon helped her into Michelle's car, and she buckled in before letting her head fall to rest against the glass window. So tired. She could hear the two talking in the front, but everything was dull static to her ears. 

Yawning, she pushed herself back up and smacked her cheeks lightly. Despite the desperate urge to sleep, she needed to stay awake. At least for a little while longer. She wanted to get clean and, hopefully, do something to try and avoid the nightmares that were sure to crop up after a rough mission. The car eased to a stop, and she looked up to see the hotel in front of them. Leon stepped out of the car and opened the door for her before she could reach for the handle. 

"Thanks," she murmured tiredly. 

"Not a problem. Need a hand up?" Leon asked, holding out his hand to her. 

She smiled gratefully and took his hand, pulling herself to her feet. Fighting back another yawn, she waved goodbye at Michelle. The other woman smiled and touched her fingers to her head in a small salute before driving off. Amara turned and led Leon inside to the elevator and then to her hotel room. 

Leon let out an impressed whistle at the grandeur of the large room Dominic had gotten her. She smiled faintly. Her friend really had gone all out, hadn't he? He enjoyed spoiling her as his 'adopted sister' just as much as he did Michelle. Amara limped her way over to the bed and sat down with a pained wince. She gingerly prodded at her side, checking the ribs carefully to see if there was any movement. 

None. 

Well, that was a relief, at least. Still, the pain was pretty intense. She'd used up a hell of a lot of her energy earlier, too, so she wasn't recovering the way she was used to. A few tears fell down her cheeks, and she swiped at them angrily. Leon let out a soothing noise and knelt next to her, brushing away a tear.

"Hey, easy now," he said soothingly. "You did well tonight. You're alive. You made it out. From what we've already pieced together, you also saved several lives chasing off the attacker. You did well."

"I... yeah," she nodded her head, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a shaky sigh. "Just... that was rough."

"I can imagine," he said with a small smile. "How about you give me a verbal report while I clean up your wounds. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Amara said with a wince. "That works."

So she told him. She told him about the people she'd found burned to death. The survivor that she'd found and directed to safety... only to have the man die consumed in flames. She told him about the confrontation near the piano and the track through the sewers. About the weird giant frog BOWs that had been down there. 

Talking so matter of factly about what had happened helped distract her from the pain as Leon tended to her wounds. Leon gently pulled the ruined sleeves of her dress away from her arm, examining the area with gentle brushes of his fingers. A thoughtful hum escaped him. 

She wondered briefly if he was looking at her tattoo and if the wound had messed up the coloring. She'd gotten a Chinese-style dragon several years ago done in blues and greens. The dragon held a branch of Sakura blossoms in each of its foreclaws and had smoke billowing around its body. 

"Lovely piece," Leon said, confirming her assumption. "Lucky that the wound is over the top of it and not through the tattoo. This is going to sting."

Immediately after the warning, the sharp pain of alcohol on a wound jolted through her arm. She hissed but didn't flinch away from the touch. His movements were slow and kind as he used the med-kit to tend to her wounds. It took her a moment to register his statement. 

"Thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks warm up. "It's the first one I've gotten since joining the BSAA a few years ago."

Her lips quirked up into a faint smile. Dominic hadn't believed her when she told him it wasn't her first tat, just the most visible one. Since she wore long pants and avoided shirts that showed off her backside, her friend had never seen the other ones. He teased her about it but had never once pressed to see her other ink, so it was more or less a running joke between the two of them. Leon gave her arm a gentle pat, having finished treating her wounded arm. He moved over to her other side and examined the area with a thoughtful hum. 

"No cuts, but this is already bruising pretty good. Your arm is going to be sore for a while," he said, voice kind but clinical as he moved on to check over her other injuries. "So, the dragon you got after joining up. Fitting, in its own way. Do you have any others?"

"Ah..." she blinked, feeling the blush on her cheeks deepen. "I have five other tattoos in various places…"

She couldn't help but give him a hesitant smile. She'd been told more than once that men didn't want women who had tattoos, but... Amara clenched her fists and shook her head. Honestly, why was she thinking about that now of all times? She was past thinking such things. She'd been to counseling for her depression. Had to go frequently because of her job, really. Given how many people died or ended up mutated because of the many BOW threats they faced over the years, it wasn't surprising to find out that most of the soldiers for the BSAA were required to go to monthly counseling. She needed to focus on the positives of the now, not the negatives of the past. Not that doing so was easy, but...

Leon had said the tattoo was lovely.

"So… you, um… you think it's nice?" she asked hesitantly. 

"I do," Leon said, flashing her a grin that threatened to melt her right then and there. "Lovely piece for an intelligent and lovely woman. Tell me about the others while I work? Obviously, if they're in a delicate spot, you don't have to worry about showing them to me. Okay?"

“I have two tattoos on my legs, one on each leg, on my right leg is the Egyptian God Anubis, and on my left is the Egyptian God Horus," Amara said, smiling happily. It wasn't often that people complimented her ink. " On my back is what I was told is my birth family's crest with my name above it. It's designed so you can still read it upside down or upside right. Underneath it is my adoptive family's crest. My last tattoo is that of an oni mask that sits in the center of my chest."

Amara's smile faded somewhat as she thought about her adoptive family. They'd been good to her once before they'd had a child of their own to dote on. Sure, they needed to focus on the baby, but they'd done so to the point that she'd been left feeling like an outcast. It hadn't been pleasant, but she had still gotten their family crest inked on her skin to remind her of the good times. 

"They sound nice," Leon let out a hum. He nodded his head and began to pack away the bandages. He then took out a small blood kit and started to swab her arm and place a thin tourniquet around it, winking at her teasingly. "Don't faint on me now."

"Really?" she shook her head, her smile returning full force. "I don't think you need to worry about me fainting just from you taking a blood sample.”

He chuckled and gently pricked the needle into her arm after having her squeeze her hand a few times. Blood rapidly filled the small vial, and he set it aside once it was full. He placed a small cotton ball over the wound, having her hold it in place. Warmth started to fill her, soothing some of her aches before fading again. Amara pulled the little ball away and saw what she'd expected after the Opera incident. 

Her wounds had closed over just a little more. 

"Looks like I don't need a bandage," Amara said in a low voice. She pulled off her heels and let out a low groan of relief. 

"What was-? Oh," Leon blinked at her arm and then shrugged before tucking the bandage he'd grabbed away. He smiled at her and shook his head. "I imagine those weren't fun to fight in. I have no idea how Ada manages."

"Ada?" Amara repeated, tilting her head to the side. "I’m not familiar with her, but I am sure her feet would hate her at the end of the day if she constantly fought in heels.”

She pushed herself to her feet, letting out a low groan. Despite the earlier warmth, she still felt sore all over. She walked over to her duffle bag to grab a change of clothes and then glanced at Leon. 

"I'm going to shower and wash the filth of the sewer off me," she said in a timid voice. 

"Don't mind me. I'll go rest on the couch for a few," he said, standing after he'd tucked away from the last of the kit's contents. "Once you're done, I'd like to talk to you about something personal if you're up to it. It can wait until tomorrow if you'd rather get some rest, though. Up to you."

"Alright?" she said with a confused blink. "I'll be a few minutes..."

Amara slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and pouted. The dress was in tatters. Pity. She'd been hoping to keep it to wear again later. Sighing, she slipped out of the torn dress and threw the remains into the trash before turning on the hot water. A low sigh escaped her as she stepped under the warm stream. The heat spread through her skin and helped relax her sore muscles. Not wanting to stay too long, she washed down twice over with the hotel-provided toiletries to get rid of the sewer scent clinging to her skin. 

She hated missions that led into the sewers. Sometimes it took forever to get the smell out. 

Done in record time, she slipped out of the shower and toweled off before slipping her nightclothes on. She put her contacts away and slipped on her red-rimmed glasses. Pausing at the bathroom door, she found herself wondering what Leon wanted to talk about. He said it was something personal. Had she done something to upset him? Amara shook her head and stepped out of the bathroom, moving into the living area where the couch lay. 

"Are you alright, Kenne-Le..." she forced herself to take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Is it alright if I call you by your first name?"

"Leon's fine," he said with a charming smile. 

"Right... Leon, then," she shyly returned the smile. "Um... What was it you wanted to chat with me about?”

"Right," he sat up, turning off the T.V. and turning to face her. He gave the couch next to him a small pat. "I wanted to explain a few things about the relationship that I have with Chris. Please, take a seat?"

"Ah... um..." she gave him a hesitant smile before moving to sit down next to him, hands in her lap. "You... You don’t have to explain your relationship with Captain Redfield with me, Leon.”

"I do, actually," Leon countered with a reassuring smile. "First, I wanted to ask you what you know about Polyamory?"

"I..." she blinked at him, confused and a little surprised by the question. "It’s a relationship with multiple partners.”

"At its base state, yes," Leon said with a nod. "It's also the willingness to understand and love your partner and know that they may find others that call to them differently. It's like saying that this partner is like Saturn, but that partner is like Mars, to use a planetary analogy. You still love both worlds, but you love them in different ways. Do you see what I mean?"

"I think so," Amara said slowly, feeling her cheeks heat at the poetic description. She had always loved astrology. "You love them both, but for different reasons. Essentially."

"The other, very important, part of such a relationship is open communication," Leon stressed with a gentle but firm smile. "You have to be willing to talk to each other. Be open about your needs and desires with one another. You may find one partner fulfills the role of, let's say, a tactician. The planner. The one who always knows how to tackle a problem or can at least see how to start tackling a problem. But your other partner is an active protector, a sword and shield sort of person. Perhaps even a third… well, a third could be a nurturer, the gardener if you will. One who helps their partners grow in healthy ways."

He paused for a moment to make sure she was following the new analogy.

"Alright," Amara said hesitantly, her heart starting to race in her chest. "I get that, but what does that have to do with your relationship with Captain Redfield? And with me?”

"Quite a bit," Leon responded with a chuckle. "Before I continue, I would like to mention that Chris is very poor at communicating his interests in a person. He is fairly shy when it comes to relationships. For all his strength and bluster, his 'sword and shield' mentality, he always freezes up when it comes to asking someone out. That's where I come in. As a 'planner' or 'tactician,' I can better test the waters and ensure that I don't put my foot in my mouth. You understand?"

"Heh," Amara put her hand to her mouth to stifle her giggling. "I understand what you mean. He's a little disorganized."

"That's putting it mildly," Leon said, winking at her. His expression turned pensive a moment later, and he leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "He believes, and I agree, that we have perhaps found a third… the 'gardener' that I mentioned."

He met and held her gaze… As if willing her to understand what he meant. As if hoping that she wouldn't bolt once she connected the dots. Amara swallowed roughly, realizing what he was getting at. Her cheeks warmed, and she clenched her hands together to avoid wringing them nervously.

“Are you sure you want me to be your third?" she asked hesitantly. "I… I have never been in a real relationship before… I am afraid I won’t be… enough for you… and... well, I am very inexperienced when it comes to relationships.”

"We're both willing to give things a go if you are," he said in a soothing tone, smiling gently at her. "It's understandable if you're hesitant about things too. We don't want to pressure you into anything, and we can go as slow as you need us to go. Alright?"

"And... will you be okay with this yourself?" Amara asked with a hesitant smile. "I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and... I don’t want to come between you and Chris. I know you two must have been together longer.”

"And that right there is one of the many reasons we think you'll be good for both of us," he smiled gently at her and gently touched her hand. "Your first concern is for our relationship. That we are comfortable with it. Others we've talked to about this have been… well… either overeager to the point of being off-putting or outright cruel." 

"I am sorry you had people like that," Amara said, gently reaching out to take his hand in her own. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. "As long as you both are comfortable with this and with me, then I'm willing to give it a go and see where things go. All I ask is that you both be patient with me."

"That's fair," Leon said, shifting his hand to give her a comforting squeeze. "All we ask is that you communicate with us. Your needs. Your wants. Your concerns. That way, things don't fester. That doesn't mean mistakes won't happen, that we won't upset each other. But we need to be able to talk to each other. To trust each other. Okay?"

Amara nodded her head and then let out a sigh. She pulled back, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was so tired and yet...

"I know this is going to sound stupid," she began in a soft voice. "And I'm not trying to rush anything, but I'm afraid to go to sleep. Would... would you be willing to be next to me until I fall asleep?"

"It's not stupid in the slightest," Leon said in a gentle but firm voice. "Especially after a night like today. Chris and I often spend some nights trading off on who is keeping watch, so I can do the same for you."

"Thank you," she said, offering him a relieved smile. She really did not want to be left alone just then. She stood and started for the bedroom, Leon on her heels. She shifted her feet nervously. "Um, do you prefer one side of the bed to the other?"

"Which would you prefer me to be on?" Leon said, glancing first at the bedroom of the door and then to the window. "We'd have time to react if someone comes through the main door. Less if they came through the window… Which spot do you feel better placing me in?"

"Um," Amara let out a small sigh. "Is it okay if you are by the door? In case anything comes through that way? I mean, I could probably burn whatever comes through the window with… you know."

"I do," he said with a comforting nod as he sat down on the side of the bed closest to the door. Instead of slipping off his gear, he simply spread out his legs and leaned back against the headboard.  He held out one arm, leaving her free to cuddle against his side if she wanted to. 

Amara laid down on the other side of the bed and smiled. She took his offer and snuggled into his side. Amara let her head fall to rest against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Sleep slowly claimed her, as she felt wholly safe for the first time in a long while.

Chapter Text

I let out a frustrated sigh as I reached my office room in Wesker's main facility. I set my glasses down and rubbed at my face for a moment. This whole mess with Eve was leaving me frustrated to no end. There were so many unknown factors, and... well, I was having a hard time dealing with it if I was being honest with myself. I'd gotten used to having my knowledge act as a means of predicting the future, of being able to prepare for upcoming events. 

Now?

Now I had next to nothing to go on, and it was leaving me floundering for stable ground. I wished I could remember more about the story, but at this point, I was pretty sure I had exhausted every little tidbit my friends had shared. Fuck all. If only I hadn't been so snappish in my youth about 'story spoilers,' then I'd be able to help more. As it was, all I could do was manage things as they occurred and hope that some of it fell within my wheelhouse, so to speak. 

The various TriCell branches were reaching out to each other to keep abreast of the situation on the mainland in New York. All of our scientists were working together to try and figure out the problem that was 'Eve.'

I put my glasses back on and turned to my computer, logging in and opening up my work email. If I could keep myself busy, then my pessimistic nature wouldn't trap me in a loop of 'all of this shit could go wrong and here's why!' which could get annoying. Before I had a chance to open the latest email I'd gotten, there was a knock at the door. I looked up and watched Dr. Johnson walk in without so much as a 'by your leave.' 

Seriously, dude? Knock and wait for an answer first...

"Can I help you, Dr. Johnson?" I asked instead of snapping at him. I kept my voice pitched to a moderately friendly tone. 

"Yes, you can," he answered with what he likely thought was a winning smile. It really wasn't. “I had some updates on the samples taken from AW-one for the Eve strain. Dr. Wesker is currently not in his office, so I thought I’d leave them with you. I hope that's not a problem?”

“Go ahead and leave the file on my desk,” I said with a nod, turning my attention back to my computer screen. “I’ll make sure Dr. Wesker gets it the moment he gets back in for the day.”

“Very well,” he set the file down and then leaned one hip against my desk, still smiling at me. I felt my shoulders tense up but kept my expression polite. “I also had a personal question for you, Ms. Kvale. If you have a moment, that is?”

“Yes?” I asked, holding back the urge to frown as I opened up an email. 

Johnson had mispronounced my name. Again . My family name wasn’t ‘Kah-vay-el.’ It was ‘Kah-wall-ee.’ I’d corrected him, and others, on multiple gods damned occasions now over the years. Most people got better at it after the first couple of pointed reminders. Johnson just didn't or couldn't take a hint. I refrained from correcting him for the dozenth time. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the hassle. 

What the Hel did he want?

“Would you be willing to join me later on tonight for dinner?” he asked with a broad and ‘winning’ smile.

“Excuse me, what?” I turned my head and blinked at him in open confusion. “Why would you ask me out to dinner?”

“You’re a lovely young woman, Ms. Kvale,” he said in a soliciting, too-sweet tone. “And I would truly enjoy your company tonight if you’re willing.”

I mean, sure, young woman. I was thirty-eight now, though I looked to be in my mid to late twenties. My listed DOB on my fake ID was in August of Nineteen-seventy instead of my original birth year. Dr. Johnson was only thirty himself. Most women might have found being called a 'lovely young woman' a compliment at my age. I just found it condescending, mainly because I kept bloody well getting carded for drinks whenever I went out. 

“Considering that you cannot even pronounce my name correctly,” I said after a moment of tense silence, turning back to my computer. “I’m going to have to decline.”

“Come now,” he started with a wave of his hand, grin faltering somewhat as my cold dismissal. “I’m sure we could-”

"I do believe that my assistant has declined your invitation," Wesker said in a cold voice as he walked into my office via the connecting side door. "Now, if you would, I need to review some project details with Ms. Kvale. Please leave, Dr. Johnson.”

“O-o-of course, sir,” the doctor straightened up and fled the room. 

I let out a soft snort of amusement and picked up the file he'd left behind, holding it out to Wesker. The tall blonde took the file while letting out a low, cruel-sounding laugh. He did so enjoy spooking the staff at times. 

“Thanks for chasing him off,” I said, gratitude ringing through my voice. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose before continuing under my breath. “He can’t even get my name right, and he has the gall to ask me out on a date?”

“Temper, temper, Ms. Kvale,” Wesker scolded me with an amused chuckle, opening the file and flipping through the pages. He let out a low hum a moment later. “Good. So far, results are coming back positive with the preliminary testing of the Eve inhibitor. The test during the performance at the park will proceed as planned."

“Do we have volunteers for the project?” I asked hesitantly, looking up at him with a faint frown. 

I tried to push where I could for volunteers for various projects, but I wasn’t the one in charge. He was. There was only so far I could push, and we both knew it. 

“Several,” Wesker said, glancing at me over his shades. The dragon-like pupils glinted in the fluorescent light. He was amused by my question. “At least two of the current volunteers are native to New York and have ‘taken offense’ at the attack on their home city. The others are plagued by, ah, what was it? Ah yes, ‘nationalist pride.’ They are eager to help their fellow US citizens.”

“You know," I began, thinking quickly to change the subject before I pushed too far on the volunteer thing. "I’ve never asked or looked but, do you even know your birth nationality? Was that even in the Project W records? You’ve never let me look over the more detailed reports despite letting me review other projects.”

“You get emotional if we receive reports involving children coming to harm,” he said with a dark chuckle, still flipping through the file. He closed it with a snap and tilted his head at me. “And I need you to remain level-headed. As to your original question, I have dual citizenship in both the US and England. Why do you think we spent so much time at the England base?”

“I’d primarily believed that was because of your ongoing projects there. They were making significant headway with the T-eighty-two project at the time after all,” I said, leaning back in my chair with a blink and ignoring the comment about kids. He wasn't wrong. T-Eighty-two was a part of his efforts to reverse engineer Birkin's Virus. “You were looking into your family at the same time?”

Now that I thought about it, his accent had been a faded mix of American and something... posh. One of those ‘rich people’ accents, if you will. It had only deepened during our time in England. 

“Yes and no,” he tucked the file under his arm and let out another low laugh. This one almost sounded bitter. “I’d found a small note in the file regarding my ‘birth’ family amongst the Project W records. I was curious to see if they were still alive and if one of my ‘true’ siblings would have been considered lesser candidates for the Project. Given the changes that Birkin made to the T-virus, there was always a chance that others from the program could bond with it as I have despite earlier decisions to remove them from the Project.”

“You…” I started, only to fall silent for a moment, thinking back on our time in England. How he'd acted throughout our time there. “They were dead, weren’t they?”

“And what makes you say that?” Wesker asked in a droll voice, tilting his head and smiling that faintly smug smirk of his.

“You’d have brought them up at some point if only to make sure they were on the record like the rest of the ‘Wesker’ children,” I said, turning back to my computer and starting to respond to an email about an order of viral suppressants for the BSAA and their teams regarding a completely separate incident. "But those files haven’t been touched at all save for two."

The ‘two’ in question that I'd brought up were Jake’s and Alexandra's. Or Alex as she preferred. The two never really ‘talked’ save for an occasional ‘yes, I’m still alive’ message which they sent to each other every year. 

“You wouldn’t leave a loose end dangling like that," I finished after a moment.

“Any other evidence leads you to that conclusion?” he asked with a low chuckle. 

"Yeah, you returned upset one night,” I began carefully, hitting ‘send’ to approve the order request. The viral suppressants would keep the poor soldiers from mutating until we could work out an actual vaccine for their conditions. I leaned back in my seat. “We left the next day for the Australian branch. Whatever you found wasn’t pleasant. Not if it put you in that bad of a mood when things were going so well at the base. And there was nothing wrong at the Australian branch when we arrived. Meaning that your ‘family’ was likely dead because of something minor and inane that shouldn’t have killed them, or Umbrella had them put down so they wouldn’t ask questions. Either way. Dead is dead.”

“Very good,” he said in a tone that was part mocking and part pleased. “You’re not wrong. My birth family met with an unfortunate accident in the form of a drunk driver. Nothing more. Nothing less. A waste of talent, time, and money.”

“Just an accident?” I asked warily. More than one of the ‘kept’ Wesker children had poorer families that suffered from similar ‘accidents’ so Umbrella could 'officially' adopt the 'orphaned' children. “What of your inheritance?”

“My family was well off enough and active donors to Umbrella,” Wesker said with a dry laugh and a shake of his head. “If not for the accident, I would have been returned to them eventually. 'Programmed' with Spencer’s values, of course, but returned nonetheless. As it was, it turns out that I was their only child, and there were no other surviving relatives to take me in, so they kept me with the others to continue testing. As to any funds, I received those upon adulthood in the form of a ‘special gift’ from Spencer.”

“Perfect for Spencer’s needs,” I said, a hint of bitterness leaking into my voice. Gods, but that man had been foul. Wesker's explanation sounded suspicious as fuck, but I knew he was the sort to research every avenue of a problem, so... “Especially since you were showing promise at the time. And giving the funds to you as a ‘gift’ meant he was trying to put you even more into his debt and control.”

“Precisely,” Wesker said with a nod, moving back toward the door that separated our offices. “And before you think to ask, yes, I investigated the situation thoroughly to make certain that it was not a successful assassination. That was why I was ‘upset,’ as you put it. Such an inane way to die...”

“Well, you have my condolences regardless,” I said with a sigh, leaning forward, intent on getting back to work. 

I knew damn well that Wesker wasn't the type to mourn his family or even the idea of them. He’d been curious and had his curiosity sated, even if the result wasn't one he was pleased with. Part of me still had a niggling feeling that what he’d found had been too… too neatly tied up in a bow, if you will, but if he said he’d double-checked everything, then I believed him. He was the through type. 

“You have an appointment in an hour with the main TriCell office,” I said as the reminder popped up on my screen. I dismissed it, glancing over at him. 

“And you have your monthly check-up and a flu shot to receive, do you not, Lorraine?” he called back, hand on the door. His tone had again gone back to that almost mocking drawl. “Chop chop.”

“Ugh,” I made a face after he closed the door and shook my head. 

He was right. I needed to head out now if I was going to make the appointment in time. Damn. Standing, I made my way out of the office and to my car.

Gods, I hated needles... and hospitals...

Chapter Text

Amara didn't know how long she had slept. She woke up to the feeling of the bed dipping and two voices murmuring softly nearby. Male voices. Opening her eyes, she could just make out the semi-blurry figure of Chris sitting at the foot of the bed. After a few moments spent in that haze of being half-awake and half-asleep, with Leon's arm a comfortable weight around her shoulders, she realized that Chris was tiredly giving the blonde a status update about what had happened. While she was tired and didn't want to move away, she knew that the three of them would probably have to get up soon. They had things to take care of.

"Are you okay, Chris?" she asked in a groggy voice.

"Eh?" Chris blinked at her for a moment, his expression so tired-looking. He smiled faintly. "Yeah, I am fine, Amara. We've got a couple hours to rest and recuperate while the others investigate things..."

Amara could tell he was lying. The exhaustion in his voice was pretty obvious. She held out her hand to him. Confused, he reached out and placed his hand in her own. She gave a quick tug, catching the taller male off guard. Chris ended up sprawled across her's and Leon's laps. Leon burst into soft laughter. Chris huffed and tried to push himself up, but Amara shoved at his shoulder.

"Sleep, Chris," she muttered softly, shooting him a half-hearted glare. "You're no good to anyone dead asleep on your feet like you are. Don't make me knock you out..."

"I'll sleep in a few," Chris said with a chuckle. "I need to take a quick shower, and we need to grab our stuff from our own room..."

"You'll both be back then?" she cut in quietly, still feeling unsure and a little off-kilter after the talk with Leon. "You... don't have to stay here if you don't want to..."

"If it's alright with you, then yes, we'll come back," Chris said with a sigh, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Usually, I'd suggest maintaining some, ya know, propriety for a little bit while we… get used to each other and everything, but we were able to recover some video surveillance of what happened and... well."

"You mentioned in your report that the other woman talked to you. What video we have shows that she was luring you into following her," Leon said, and his expression darkened. "We're worried she may try to target you again. Best to keep together right now, agreed?"

"That makes sense. Safety in numbers and all that," Amara said with a shy nod of her head. She looked down at her hands and let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. I have no idea why she would single me out. Then or now."

"It may be your abilities with fire," Chris said with a shrug before sitting up and letting out a groan that made it clear that he didn't want to move. "Regardless, orders are to stay together until we're able to apprehend the woman and any of her accomplices."

"And no tearing off alone if you can help it," Leon said firmly, giving her a one-armed side hug. "Wait for backup if you get separated from us."

Amara nodded her head and smiled faintly as she leaned into Leon's hug. The two men stood up and headed for the door even as she laid back down, intent on getting a few more minutes of rest while they gathered their things. She dozed off again, but her rest was anything but restful. Amara could see the burned corpses coming for her in her dreams. Their voices asking her why she hadn't saved them. Why she hadn't been better. Survivor's guilt. Amara knew that, but it ate at her just as badly as it had those first weeks after Chris had saved her.

Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped softly, managing to force herself awake and away from the grasping, burning hands reaching for her. She felt hot. Like she was caught in a furnace. To her surprise, Chris and Leon were laying down on either side of her.

No wonder she'd felt like she was overheating.

Chuckling softly, she scooted herself toward the end of the bed, thankful that there was no footboard to impede her, and made her way over to the window. She heard some rustling behind her and turned, watching as the two shifted to wrap themselves around each other. Another soft huff of laughter escaped her. They looked adorable like that.

Her shoulders slumped as she turned to look out the window, staring out at the city lights. Despite not having her glasses on, the view was still gorgeous. Amara wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling despondent. Why was this happening again? Why was Eve so interested in her? Why had so many people died because... because of some stupid virus or whatever this 'mitochondria' was.

"Maybe I'm cursed, " Amara muttered to herself quietly before shaking her head.

No. Thinking like that was an effort in self-recrimination and would not help things right now. Amara thought back to her recent therapy sessions. Doctor Kerrigan had told her that she needed to focus on a positive thought for every negative one. To try to build herself up instead of tearing herself down. She'd been doing well recently in that regard, despite the constant bullshit she had to deal with when it came to most of the people she was paired with in the BSAA.

And today? Today she'd done well, even if it hadn't seemed like it. She'd survived. She'd taken on a bio-weapon on her own and lived. She'd even begun taking the first tentative steps of a relationship with two very intelligent and handsome men. Good things, despite the hell they were going to face. She wasn't alone. And that was important.

Unlike some others she could name, Chris and Leon would have her back. They'd survived hellish situations just like this before, and they'd do it again.

She nodded firmly to herself and turned to walk to the table next to the bed, quietly grabbing her glasses and slipping them on. She smiled at the sleeping men and then walked over to her backpack. Pulling out her computer, she made her way to the coffee table and placed the laptop down. Opening it and turning it on, Amara sat down on the couch and started to type out her report.

"Couldn't sleep?" Chris asked a good half hour later, startling her.

His voice was pitched low enough to not bother the sandy-haired blonde still curled up on the bed. He moved to sit on the opposite side of the couch from Amara, giving her space if she wanted and or needed it. She flashed him a shy smile and got an equally shy grin back.

"Yeah," she said, turning back to her report and saving it. "I hope I didn't wake you up with my typing. Were you able to get a decent rest in?"

"Yeah," he said, letting out a sigh and leaning back on the couch, one arm rising to rest on the edge. "Bed's nicer than what I'm used to, though. While they let you have a certain amount of leeway at the BSAA barracks, it's still not exactly a life of luxury. Took me a bit to drift off."

"It is a nice bed, isn't it?" Amara said with a small smile, glad once more that Dominic was such a good friend and pseudo-brother. "If you're still tired, though, you should go lay back down. I don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep myself, and I still need to finish up this report."

"Not going to be able to sleep at this point," Chris said with a small shrug of his muscled shoulders. She turned away to avoid staring. "Too many nightmares vying for my attention. You know how it goes when we get missions like this. Um... So, anyway, you, uh... You talked to Leon, I take it?"

"Yes, I have," Amara said with a nod, turning to look at him with another shy smile that quickly faded.

She blushed and turned her attention back to her report for a few moments. Chris seemed content to let the silence linger. As if he was just as unsure of what to say as she was. When she glanced over at him, she found him staring, and they both looked away from each other. She glanced back and noticed that he was blushing. It was cute. And also good to know that she wasn't the only nervous Nelly in the room. Finishing her report, she quickly sent it off and closed up her laptop. She turned toward him and opened her mouth before closing it. She coughed into her hand and tried again.

"So... Um... Are... Are you okay with this, Chris?" she asked, pointing toward herself and him and then toward the bed where Leon was snoozing away.

"Okay with...? Okay, you, uh, you mean the three of us?" he said with a squeak before coughing into his hand. Amara covered her mouth to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape her. "Yeah, I'm, uh, good with it. I'm just, you know, not all that great at talking about, um, feelings and shit. Took Lorraine giving me a stern talking to in order to, uh, even ask Leon about things, so... Yeah. I want to. With you and Leon and... yeah."

"I... I'm honored you both like me enough to want to try," Amara said with a weak smile, reaching over to lightly touch his hand where it lay against the back of the couch. He shifted his hand down into her own, and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm... admittedly a little worried that... Well, to be blunt, I haven't had many relationships. Only one, really, and that didn't go all too well for me. I worry that my inexperience with such things could put a strain on what you two already have."

Amara looked down at their joined hands, fingers lightly trailing over the back of his hand. Despite the familiar calluses from holding weapons, they looked so different. Chris' hands looked strong. Like they could fight off the world and win. Chris shifted, reaching to cup her hands in his own briefly before reaching out to touch her cheek with his thumb.

"That's an understandable fear," he said in a gentle voice. "Lord knows that Leon and I have had a few relationships go south ourselves. But if there's one thing I have learned, it's that any relationship is a learning experience. And... Well, we'll learn as we go, yeah?"

"Yeah, you're right," Amara said, looking up to meet his eyes for a moment before blushing and looking away. "I know I've said it before, but... thank you, Chris. I don't think I'd be alive right now if you and the others hadn't found me years ago."

"We've helped each other out more than a few times since then," he countered with a gentle laugh. "More than balanced the scales out, yeah? Besides, do you know how often you've saved my bacon when it comes to all that blasted paperwork? It's necessary, don't get me wrong, but I hated the paper-pushing parts of these sorts of jobs since back in my military and STARS days. Don't sell yourself short, Amara. You are a brilliant and amazing woman. Charming too. It... It'll be nice, getting to know you better."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me," Amara said, feeling her cheeks heat up. She adjusted her glasses nervously. "I... I'd like to get to know you two better as well."

Honestly, she knew that if it hadn't been for Chris, Dominic, Tanya, and all the lives they'd save while working in the BSAA, she'd have sunk deeper into depression due to her survivor's guilt. If she'd just had to deal with hateful squadmates and not had the support of her friends, she'd have hit a point of no return a while back. Hells, even being in contact with a handful of the people she'd saved in the past helped her quite a bit when it came to her depression. One younger Japanese woman was a cheerful ball of energy that messaged her often.

Amara shook her head faintly, mentally shoving the negative thoughts away. Ever since arriving in New York, her thoughts had been slipping into darker and darker waters. Things may have started off rough, but she was alive. She had friends and... and two boyfriends now? A shy smile curled her lips upwards, her cheeks heating. Yeah. Yeah, she was in a very good place right now, even if they were going to have to deal with a new BOW of unknown strength and ability.

"Feel up to returning to bed, even if it's not to sleep?" Amara asked shyly. "I don't want Leon waking up alone."

She looked up at Chris and saw that he'd tilted his head at her. Her face warmed further still when she noticed that he looked concerned. He'd probably noticed her mood darken for a moment there. Rather than pressing for information, he lifted her hands up and kissed the palms lightly. She squeaked softly, and he let out a gentle, rumbly sort of laugh.

"Sure, let's head back to bed," he said with a small grin. "This time, I'll actually stay awake to keep watch."

"You don't have to do that," she said in a gentle voice. "I'm rested well enough now. I know you and Leon were out there organizing things. Let me keep the watch, yeah?"

"I... sure," Chris said, leaning back to rub at the back of his neck. "I don't know if I'll actually get back to sleep, though. Things had been pretty hectic on site. We're still waiting on several contacts with TriCell, TerraSave, and the government to get back to us. Hopefully, we'll be able to catch up with this woman and stop her. Either by capturing her and containing her or... well, stopping her permanently if need be."

"I hope so too," Amara said with a small frown. "The way she was acting... it was like she wasn't herself at a couple of points. Like this 'Eve' was controlling her."

"Then we can try for containment first if possible," Chris said with a grim look. "We might not be able to succeed, but if something's been done to her, then we have a duty to see if that can be reversed."

"Agreed," Amara said with a faint sigh. "I hope we can help her, but I'm honestly worried we can't. How many infected have we had to put down because the viruses or parasites moved too fast?"

"Too many," Chris said in a tired voice. "But that doesn't mean we don't try."

"Yeah," she shook her head and stood up, silently holding her hand out to the taller male.

He stood and took her hand in his. As they walked back into the room, Amara smiled at the picture Leon made, cuddled as he was around several of the pillows, legs twisted in the sheets and blankets. Chris let out a chuckle and moved over to detangle Leon from the mess he'd made of things before slipping into bed behind the slightly shorter male. Amara then slipped into the bed next to them, leaning back against the headboard as Leon scooched close enough in his sleep to cuddle her legs in his arms and use her lap as a pillow. Chris snickered softly, and Amara had to cover her mouth. Leon was a cuddle bug. How adorable.

Amara leaned her head back against the headboard, gently running her hand over Leon's hair. The male let out a contented noise and snuggled closer. She smiled, determination and joy filling her.

She was glad, very glad, that these two men had decided to allow her into their hearts...

Chapter Text

*Lorraine POV*

I walked into the nearby hospital and had to immediately contain a grimace. Gods above, but I hated visiting the doctor's office. It wasn't the doctors themselves that I had an issue with. I'd always lucked out to have kindly doctors, even here on Wesker's version of Earth.

No, it was the hospitals themselves that bothered me. Especially the bigger ones. The scent of antiseptics and cleaning solutions and flowers and body odor and sickness and death all coming together in a clash of odors that assaulted the nose and left me sick to my stomach. The death scent was bad enough on its own. What made it all worse was the efforts to mask that scent. The cloying scent of cleaning solvents mixed with gifted flower baskets and everything else became a nauseating roil of scents to my sensitive nose. Just catching a whiff of that mixture of scents used to be enough to trigger a migraine on the spot.

Even though I'd gotten used to the scent of decay, given the corpses that were often examined at the labs, I still flinched at the smell as it hit me. It was a scent that lingered in the air and on the handful of nurses and doctors passing through the various sections of the hospital as they went about their jobs.

To be honest, I didn't much care for the TriCell labs either, but at least they weren't pretending to be anything other than what they were. A testing ground. It was easier for me to process the scents of death and decay when I knew that something in the labs was more often than not meant to die as the scientists ran their tests. Hospitals gave you the illusion of peace and health wrapped up in those pristine white walls. In the flowers and the false smiles. You could so easily find the rot if you knew where to look, ruining the pretty illusion that hospitals presented to the public eye.

Wesker's labs didn't lie when it came to death in those white halls…

Weird that I appreciated the distinction. But I did. Morbid of me, I suppose.

As to the needle issue? As I'd mentioned to Wesker, having shy veins made it difficult for me to be comfortable being stabbed with the damned things. It still surprised me to this day that he could always get the needle into a vein on the first go. And while most vaccines could just be administered into the muscles of one's arm, some shots still required direct injection into a vein. At least here. Depending on the person and the vaccine, we'd had shots to the arm or even nasal sprays back home.

With all the work that had been done to help combat the T-virus, the scientists here, however, had developed more effective versions of the flu shot. It was still a seasonal illness, but it wasn't as prominent here as it had been on my old world. The shot they gave you now was a tiny intravenous dose administered to a vein in the back of the hand, and then boom. You were on your way and protected for the year.

And yes, I did my research first before getting that initial flu shot years ago. I hadn't been about to just trust Wesker at his word when it came to my health and had been wary as Hel of it being something other than a flu shot. He'd been quietly amused rather than offended when I'd asked to see the research done for the flu shots here. Some of had gone over my head at the time, but it had been familiar enough to recognize what I was reading.

I checked in at the front desk and sat down in the waiting room, idly picking up one of the many National Geographic magazines laying on the small table next to the chairs. This one was about rare breeds of birds and how humanity was 'doing what it could to protect such beautiful creatures and their habitats.' After reading that, I immediately felt my mood darken, and I set the magazine aside, leaning back in my seat and pinching the bridge of my nose before adjusting my glasses.

As long as the creature was 'pretty,' humanity tried to save it. Never mind all the 'ugly' creatures needed to maintain the various ecosystems around the world. Hel, I had arachnophobia, a pretty bad case of it. I'd had to learn as a kid how to trick myself into an 'out of sight, out of mind' state when it came to spiders, but even I knew and accepted how useful arachnids were.

I took a calming breath and shook my head. I was being silly and getting upset over something stupid because of where I was. Before my thoughts could loop back around to something equally silly and inane, the side door opened up.

"Ms. Kvale?" the nurse called out, saying my name properly, which I appreciated. Especially so soon after the debacle with Dr. Johnson. I stood, flashing her a weak smile, and walked after her as she led me down a hall of exam rooms. A quick weight and blood pressure check later, and she moved to the door of the exam room that I'd been led to. "Dr. Owen will be with you in about five minutes."

"Thanks," I said, flashing her another small smile as she left.

I had a moment to think 'cute gal' before I shook my head dismissively and settled in to wait. Dating wasn't exactly something I did nowadays. Occasional flirting when I went out, sure, but never anything more. I glanced at my watch and then closed my eyes to take a second to meditate. Five minutes later on the dot and Dr. Owen entered the room with the nurse on his heels. She carried the dreaded needle and flu-vaccine vial in a small tray. I winced, and the doctor chuckled.

"Needles still a problem?" he asked in a gentle voice. I rolled my eyes and let out a bemused huff at his question, causing him to chuckle. "Well, at least you've only needed to come in to get a shot once a year. And you're nothing like some of my other patients."

"Have to hogtie them down to give them their shots?" I asked with a laugh.

"Just about," he responded with a chuckle, taking a seat across from me. "Alright then, let's test your reflexes, run a few physical tests, get you your shot and set you free into the wild, eh? Unless you have anything that you'd like to bring up as a concern?"

"Nah, fit as a fiddle, Doc," I said with a smile, playfully flexing my arm and tapping my bicep with one finger. My self-defense exercises kept me active enough to have a lithe form, and I only weighed around one-fifty-five to one-sixty. A good body to weight ratio given that I stood at about five-six. "The migraines haven't come back either, so the treatment there seems to have worked wonders."

"I'm glad to hear it, now if only we could develop something for cluster migraines, then I'd be one happy doctor," he moved over with a reflex hammer. "Now, relax your limbs for me."

Ten minutes of basic tests later, and it was time for the damned shot. I winced and held out my left hand. No need to impede my dominant hand while the area recovered from the shot. I hissed as the needle pushed into my skin, and the doctor hummed before adjusting the angle to chase after the vein. As I expected, he had to withdraw and try again. Thankfully, he found the vein on the second go, and he successfully injected the flu shot. He gave my hand a pat after placing the bandage in place.

"There we are," he said in a cheerful voice, turning to make a note on my chart. "All good. Go ahead and schedule your next appointment at the front desk, hm?"

"Got it, thanks!" I said, grabbing my coat and hurrying out of the office while rubbing the back of my hand.

I made my way back to work and only relaxed once I was back in my seat. I let out a low sigh and rolled my shoulders, leaning forward and reaching for a file waiting on my desk. I froze a second later and almost whimpered at what lay before me.

Speaking of fucking spiders, there was a Gods damned spider right on the file I'd been about to pick up.

I slowly shifted my hand to the side to grab a pen and tapped at the top of the file, spooking the small thing off of the paperwork. That would have been enough for me to grab the file and move away until it left to hide somewhere... had the thing not darted toward me.

I let out a yelp, grabbed the textbook sitting near the corner of my desk, and slammed it down onto the small arachnid with a loud thud. I winced and froze in place before glancing toward Wesker's office. Was he in? Please say he wasn't in right now. Gods, this phobia was outright embarrassing sometimes.

The first time he'd learned about my phobia had been when a spider had dropped from the ceiling of the plane to land between the pages of a book I'd been reading. I'd promptly screamed, slammed the book shut on the spider, and tossed the book across the aisle. He hadn't laughed, though his shoulders had shaken a little at my antics. No, instead, he'd merely stared at me for a long moment before standing from his own seat to recover and clean my book before handing it back to me. I'd barely been able to manage a quiet thank you and, if we hadn't have been on a bloody plane at the time, I'd have found someplace to hide and stew in my embarrassment.

When nothing moved in either office after a few moments, I lifted my book and grabbed some cleaning tissue to wipe up the tiny mess left behind. I shuddered as I threw away the tissue and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Another spider?" Wesker asked. From right behind me.

I let out a startled squeak and spun around. I almost started again at the sight of him. He wasn't wearing his usual black coat. Instead, he was wearing one of his black silk dress shirts with the sleeves pulled up to reveal his muscular yet lean forearms. It was one of the few times I'd seen him look so… relaxed, almost. The man was terrifying, yes, but also handsome in his own way. My gaze trailed up to his face, and I felt my cheeks warm. Aaaaand I'd been caught staring. He smirked down at me, taking in a slow breath and then letting out a low chuckle.

"I-I… yes," I muttered, breaking my gaze from his. Shit, why was he standing so close? "Apologies if I disturbed you."

"Amused, more than disturbed, Ms. Kvale," he said, letting out another low laugh that made my insides squirm. "Call the exterminators again. We cannot afford smaller animals entering the labs and getting infected. It's how the debacle with Umbrella and Raccoon City began in the first place. Ineptitude and inappropriate cutting of costs when it came to proper cleanliness and maintenance of the facilities. That will not happen here, understood?"

"Yes, sir. I'll make the call right away," I started to move toward the desk and froze. He wasn't moving out of my way. I shifted my feet nervously, feeling a blush heat my cheeks. "If you'll excuse me, Wesker, I do have work to see to. Could you, um...?"

"That you do," he said after another tense moment of just standing there before moving back toward his office. "Have a good day, Ms. Kvale."

I shivered as he closed the door. Why the Hel had he purred those last words at me like that? Had I imagined it? I probably imagined it. I shook the inappropriate thoughts from my head and took my seat, quickly dialing up the cleaning company we had on retainer to politely tear them a new asshole. Wesker was right. We did not need a repeat of Raccoon City due to someone's carelessness and attempts to cut costs.

Chapter Text

Amara jerked awake, blinking rapidly as she looked around the partially blurred room. A small huff of amusement escaped her as she pushed her askew glasses back into place, and the room came back into proper focus. Looking down, Amara found that both Leon and Chris were still resting themselves. Like earlier, she carefully extracted herself from between them. This time, she moved over to the hotel phone and quietly placed an order for a large breakfast for the three of them. Based on previous potlucks and meals, Amara knew that both men had large appetites.

After getting the estimated time of when their meal would arrive, she went back to her bag and grabbed a change of clothes. Moving to the bathroom, she left the door open a crack to listen for the guys as she took a shower. Not long after that, she heard the muffled noises of the pair getting up and talking, followed by the familiar sounds of weapons being checked over and cleaned.

Finished with her shower, she dried off and got dressed. Before exiting, though, she switched from her glasses back to her contact lenses. It was better to wear the contacts than her glasses if there was going to potentially be combat ahead of them. She left the bathroom, rubbing a towel through her hair. Leon and Chris were next to each other on the couch, still working on their guns.

"Hey, you two," she greeted them with a smile. "How did you sleep? I have room service coming up with food. They should be here soon."

"Slept pretty well, actually," Leon responded with a faint smile, sliding the last part of his gun back into place.

"I'd say 'like the dead,' but-" Chris started, only to get elbowed in the side by Leon. "What?!"

"Seriously, not the time," Leon said with a sigh, moving to sit on the couch. "Glad to see you're looking better, Amara. And thanks for ordering food."

"Same," Chris said, tucking his gun away in its holster and putting his feet up on the table. "Leon sent off a message to one of his contacts. Considering the bullshit Umbrella was always up to, we're trying to figure out if this current situation is one of their lingering pet projects or if it's the result of a competitor losing control of an experiment."

"Fair enough," Amara said with a nod of her head. "I'm glad you both slept well. We may not be able to rest much going forward."

"The calm before the storm," Chris agreed with a huff.

Amara nodded and finished toweling off her hair. She quickly brushed it and pulled it back in a tight braid before moving to clean and check her own guns. She'd barely finished reassembling her gun when there was a knock at the door. Leon and Chris both tensed at the knock, and Amara glanced at the time. Ideally, it was just room service. Keeping her gun at the ready, she checked the door and then relaxed, signaling the okay to the other two. The pair relaxed as she opened the door, and the food was wheeled in and laid out for them. She passed the attendants a tip in thanks as they left and then closed the door.

"I didn't know what you two might want," she said as she turned back to them with a sheepish smile. "So I kind of ordered a little bit of everything."

Before they could respond, her phone started to ring. She walked over, recognizing the caller ID, and answered the phone.

"Dominic!" she said in the way of greeting. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, homegirl. I should be asking you that," Dominic said in a teasing tone. His voice turned serious a moment later. "Heard about what happened at the Hall. Piers and I, along with some of the others, are in New York now. We're heading to the hotel. The BSAA got clearance to use it as a base for the moment. Also, hope you ordered breakfast, 'cause my little homie here is getting cranky."

There was a bit of shouting in the background. Amara bit back a chuckle as she recognized Piers' voice. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but she could easily hear the annoyance in the younger man's voice. As one of the youngest members of Chris' units, the kid got teased by pretty much everyone. Not maliciously, like she did, but more in the way you teased a younger brother.

"Be nice, Dominic," Amara scolded in a teasing tone. "You know you get cranky too when you haven't eaten. How soon until you get here?"

"Given the circumstances and that we're helping with clean up right now?" he said, letting out a small hum. "We'll be there within the hour. Which reminds me... you gotten laid yet, girl?"

"Dominic!" she yelped, startling the two men on the couch. She flushed and turned away from them, hissing into the phone. "Really?! Must you?!"

"What?" Dominic asked with a chuckle. "I'm just curious. I wanted to know if Chris or Leon, or both, made a woman outta you yet."

"You... ugh! You don't need to be asking about things like that!" Amara growled in a soft tone, moving a little further away from the two men in the room.

"Down, Mama Bear, down," Dominic responded with another laugh. "Don't need to panic. Anyway, see you soon. I got the cub glaring daggers at me."

"Be nice to Piers," Amara said with a sigh and a shake of her head. "I'll see you two soon."

Amara hung up the phone and rubbed at her forehead. She could feel the beginning stages of a headache forming. Honestly, she didn't dare turn around to face the other two. Not when her cheeks still felt so warm.

"Dominic giving you shit again?" Chris asked with a chuckle. "You said they'll be here soon. Do we have an ETA? We could use the help with this mess. Even with the folks already on the scene, it was a bit of a mess."

"You know how Dominic gets when he wants to poke fun at me," Amara said, trying to will away her blush as she turned back to the pair. "Anyway, he and Piers are on their way. Dominic specified that their ETA is about an hour from now."

"Our contact may not get back to us for a day or so," Leon piped up. "Sent some samples of the remains her way, but who knows what they'll get back at this point. There wasn't much left of any one person, you know?"

"Yeah, the bodies were..." Amara shook her head and let out a sigh. "Oh, and Dominic said we have clearance to use the hotel as an operations base."

"Oh, good," Leon said with a relieved sigh. "Sometimes trying to arrange for a FOB is a hassle of red-tape and other bureaucratic bullshit between the local government and us. Even in the US."

"The city may end up being evacuated," Chris said with a frown. "We've got an agent talking to the mayor right now. We don't need a repeat of Racoon City."

"Yeah, bombing New York into oblivion wouldn't fly with a lot of people," Leon said with a snort. "Hopefully, the mayor here listens to reason."

Amara nodded in agreement before letting out a sigh. She moved over and filled up a plate of food before walking over to sit down. Once Amara had grabbed her own food, the guys got up to fill up their own plates. She turned on her laptop and perused what little they had on Melissa Pierce and Chris' own report on the situation thus far. She glanced at the two men, shaking her head discreetly in amusement as she turned back to her laptop.

It wasn't that Chris' reports had grammar issues or spelling issues. It was that they were so bare-bones that it... well, it just lacked in detail. Things like 'Suspect 'a' evaded capture' or 'Remains of victim 'b' unidentifiable' or 'Security footage non-viable.' Explanations as to why or how an event occurred would certainly help anyone reviewing his reports. Amara let out a sigh and turned to face Chris just as he turned back around.

"Chris, could you... could you explain why you're trying to kill my brain with your reports?" she asked in a dead-panned tone.

"I… uh…" Chris looked at her sheepishly before turning to look at Leon, who immediately held up his hands.

"Don't look at me, man," he said with a grin. "I know how to write a detailed report. That mess is on you."

"Half if not more of the report will be redacted anyway!" Chris said, trying to defend his lackluster methods.

"Doesn't matter," Leon responded with a huff, pointing his fork at the dark-haired male. "Just because it's redacted now doesn't mean the reports won't become public later."

Chris just gave him a look that said, 'Yeah, sure it'll be made public later.' He then turned a puppy-dog look toward Amara.

"I mean, you get it? Right?" he asked with a hopeful note in his voice.

"You better be grateful that I find you cute," Amara said with a sigh, rubbing at her face and letting out a playful growl. "Otherwise, I would make you rewrite the entire thing by yourself."

Shaking her head, Amara turned back to her laptop and began to re-type Chris' report, asking clarifying questions here and there to make sure she got the details right. Barely five minutes after she sent off her report, forwarding the email to both BSAA headquarters and to TriCell, given the company was helping with the medical side of their operations, she got an email back from Lorraine Kvale, their TriCell contact. As she read the message, she burst into laughter.

The message read:

Amara,

Tell Chris to do his own damn reports and to give you a damn break. With all that you do, the higher-ups in the BSAA are going to start asking if you want his job.

Amara clicked on the reply button of the email and began to type up her response:

Lorraine,

I will be sure to pass on the message. Though I am pretty sure he'll make an attempt to puppy-dog eye me into doing his reports. On another note, I don't think HQ would want me as a leader. Not too good at leading people into combat situations.

Upon hitting the send button, she couldn't help but let out a weak laugh at the thought of her taking over Chris's job as Captain of Alpha team.

"What's got you in a good mood?" Chris asked, downing the last of his drink and leaning back with a contented, well-fed noise.

"It was just Lorraine," Amara said with another soft chuckle. "She was just letting me know that, since I'm doing your job filing reports, HQ is offering me your job."

"I-what?!" Chris sputtered even as Leon burst into laughter. Chris tossed a napkin at the other male before turning back to Amara. The look he pinned her with was one full of mischief. "Well, if you want the job, I'm willing to step aside for the 'Lady of Wisdom.'"

"I… really, Chris?" Leon said in a dead-pan tone.

"What?" Chris turned to Leon with an innocent look. "'Goddess of Council' sound better?"

"You're comparing her to the Goddess Athena," Leon said in a dry tone, clocking that Amara was starting to blush. "And while I agree she is a 'goddess' in her own right, shouldn't we come up with something new to use as a title instead of stealing from a long-dead religion?"

"'Lady of Writ?'" Chris said, tapping his chin, both looking playful and thoughtful.

"Nah," Leon shook his head. "That's just you slacking and her being nice enough to pick up that slack. How about 'Lady of Light'?"

"Lord of the Rings, really, dude?" Chris asked, tossing yet another napkin at Leon. "Nah, how about-"

"Both of you stop," Amara said, blushing and throwing a napkin at each of them. "I am neither a lady nor a goddess."

She closed the laptop and stood, moving to sit between them. They made room for her, both grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Now, if I had to call you two anything," she began with a teasing grin of her own, "it would probably be Chris God of War and Leon God of Mischief."

"Nice!" Chris crowed, grinning at a suddenly huffy-looking Leon.

"You're just a jarhead," Leon growled playfully. "Of course, she labels you after Ares. Why do I have to be Loki?"

Leon turned his own version of puppy-dog eyes on Amara. She had to bite down on her lip to contain a fit of laughter. He even included a little wobble of the lower lip, like he was about to cry.

"Aw, but Leon, you are acting like Loki right now," she said playfully. "Such a mischievous scamp."

Leon went into a full-blown pout and crossed his arms, looking away from her with a huff. Amara laughed and held out her arms to him.

"Awww," she cooed. "Does Loki want a hug?"

"..." Leon grumbled a bit under his breath, but Amara was just able to make out 'of course I want a hug, hmph.' Chris, who was closer, heard him and burst into laughter at the lighter-blonde-brown-haired male's antics.

"Well, come over here and get one," Amara said with a giggle. "Or are you feeling really lazy?"

Leon shifted slowly toward her as if he were a disgruntled cat trying to ease closer to their human for pets while acting like they didn't want any. At the last second, he turned and swept her up in a hug, standing at the same time and spinning her around.

"Gotcha!" he shouted with a laugh.

Amara let out a squeak of surprise and wrapped her arms around Leon's neck. She burst into laughter and let him spin her about.

"Okay!" she shouted, still laughing. "Leon! Enough! You're making me dizzy!"

Leon let out a bark of laughter and spun back around the other way before plopping Amara down right onto Chris' lap. Chris let out a laugh himself, quickly catching Amara before she could slip from his lap. Leon sat down next to Chris and forced himself onto the other man's lap alongside Amara. Chris let out a groan.

"How strong do you think I am?!" Chris said in a mock-complaining tone. "Leon! Off! You're heavy!"

Amara laughed as Leon pushed himself further onto Chris' lap, forcing another playful groan from the brunette. Joy filled her as she interacted with the two men. Their relationship had barely begun, and already it was so different from her first relationship. If it could have even been called that. She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on her past. She wrapped her arms around their shoulders and squeezed them close.

"Thank you, both of you," she murmured softly. "I am very lucky to have you both here."

"Nah, we're lucky to have you," Leon said, nudging Chris with his elbow. "Especially this slacker. Don't let him get away with too much-"

Leon paused as his phone rang on the table. He leaned over and frowned at the screen. With a curse, he twisted to his feet as swift as a cat and moved over to grab it off the table.

"Leon," he said as he answered the phone, his voice losing all traces of good humor as he began to pace the room. "Yes. That's right. We're meeting with Ms. Brea tomorrow at the NYPD. What? What do you mean he's gone missing? Mmhmm. No. No, give me the address. Yeah? Easy to remember. My team and I will check out his apartment. You check any of his haunts. Right. Bye."

Leon hung up the phone and cursed, running his fingers through his hair. His hand continued to run soothing circles over Amara's back. Chris had gone tense beneath Amara, following Leon with his eyes. He glanced down at her and then back to Leon with a serious expression.

"What's happened?" Chris asked in a stiff tone.

"Alex Wickers, the other survivor from last night's performance, has gone missing," Leon said bluntly. "He hasn't been seen at work today and hasn't responded to any calls. We're to head out as soon as the others get here. They can get some food on the go."

Amara frowned at the news. A flicker of guilt pulsed through her, and she quickly squashed it down before it could take root. If the man had gone missing since the attack, there was nothing she could have done personally to help, and she knew that. A knock filled the air, startling her from her thoughts. She extracted herself from Chris' lap and moved to the door. As she approached, she heard Dominic call out.

"Homegirl!" her friend shouted. "It's just me and the cub-"

"Stop calling me that! If anyone is a damned cub, it is you!" Piers' voice growled back, causing Amara to smile as she opened the door revealing the two fully geared-up men.

She stepped aside and let the pair in the room. Both were carrying two heavy-looking suitcases each. She closed the door behind them and then followed behind them as they headed for the center of the room. Dominic turned to Chris and Leon with a grin and a salute.

"Captain Redfield. Agent Kennedy," he said, dropping his hand. "Piers and I come bearing gifts from HQ."

Dominic turned and opened the two cases that he'd been carrying, showing them the additional guns and other various weapons, armor, and health supplies. Amara noticed that Piers was looking at her with a smirk. She raised a brow at him, and he tapped his foot against one of the cases. She smiled back at him and moved to open the case. Inside was a black tactical armor vest, along with an M16A1 Rifle and an M8000 pistol. There were ammo magazines with their attachments were there as well, laying on top of a black jacket.

Amara glanced up at Piers with a grateful look, recognizing her favorite tactical jacket. She'd forgotten it when she'd left. It was something she enjoyed wearing even when off-duty. While Dominic continued his report to Chris, Amara started to gear up. Leon did the same with the gear brought in for him. Amara slipped on the vest armor and then the warm jacket, letting out a relieved sigh. She slipped her hands into the jacket pockets and found a pair of warm, fur-lined leather gloves. She slipped them on and shot Piers another grin, which he returned.

Piers was a good kid and had noticed that she disliked cold climates. He tried to ensure that she had access to warmer gear during the winter months or when they had missions in colder environments. He was a good teammate like that, much like Dominic.

Speaking of Dominic, he was finishing up his report...

"Other than Alex Wickers going missing, we got word that Ms. Brea and her partner are looking into the recent happenings as well," he finished, running a hand over his head. "From what I heard, the head of the NYPD's Seventeenth Precinct isn't too keen on having the BSAA here, let alone DSO. Thankfully, my sister also works there, so she can give us updates on what they might find."

"Great," Amara said, letting out a sigh as she felt her temper spike. "That kind of pissing contest attitude is going to make it a hell of a lot harder to do our jobs. Seriously, why do people have to start this kind of shit when BOWs are involved, and lives are at risk?"

"Comes with the territory," Piers said with a shrug, concerned hazel eyes meeting her own.

"True," Amara noticed the look, and she gave him a discreet, and what she hoped was a reassuring, smile. "It's still annoying. We don't have time for that kind of bullshit."

"Got that right," Leon muttered with a sigh as he checked and holstered his own weapons. He shook his head a moment later and waved at the food. "We need to get to work, guys. Grab your grub, and let's go."

Chris had already finished gearing up himself. At Leon's prompt, he darted over to the table before Dominic or Piers could and quickly made himself what amounted to a breakfast burrito. Leon gave him a dead-panned look.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"What? I'm a growing boy!" Chris said with a shit-eating grin.

"Yeah, growing outwards," Leon said, letting out a sigh. "So damned lucky we have to work out the way we do."

"Yeah, and? Grab yourself an extra helping, too," Chris said to both Leon and Amara. His expression went a little pinched. "Seriously, though. Load up on the carbs now. We may not have another chance to eat till tomorrow if things go as badly as they have before."

"Ain't gotta tell me twice," Dominic said with a snicker as he quickly went over to the table and began to eat and build his own burrito.

"Honestly," Piers muttered to Amara with a roll of his eyes. "Sometimes, I wonder if we're the only actual adults in the room..."

Amara giggled, moving over to the table with Piers at her side. She watched as everyone gathered up some food. Piers noticed her hesitating and quickly made up two smaller breakfast burritos for her. He brought them over, along with some napkins to wrap them in, and smiled at her.

"Here, Mama Bear," he said in a low voice. "Eat what you can now, but make sure the rest is packed away for later. Chris is right. We've been on too many missions where meals have been sparse. If you can't stomach the food now, always have some for later. You got any of your protein bars tucked away?"

"Yeah, I still have those on me," Amara said with a smile, taking the food.

She wrapped up one burrito in a napkin and tucked it away in a small bag clipped to her thigh. She tapped one of the other bags on the same leg, and Piers nodded in relief. Amara usually had to keep extra rations on her because of her powers. Using her abilities used up her energy, which meant needing more food. She hated having to eat so much, but it was a trade-off that was just par for the course now.

The guys all quickly grabbed extra food, laughing and eating as they started for the door. Honestly, she was just glad that she'd ordered a large amount of food. She'd meant for it to last the entire day, but it would be just enough to last the five of them. Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulders, steering her out the door. Leon closed up the room behind them, keycard in hand. He passed the card to Amara, who pocketed it with a thankful nod.

"Right," Chris said with false cheer. "Let's see if we're lucky enough to find this guy drunk off his ass at a cheap bar. I know that's where I'd go after seeing something like that happen."

"That or he's passed out at his house," Leon said. "We're headed to Five-Five-Five Tenth Avenue. Nice apartment complex. Looking for apartment Four-twenty-one."

"Should we split up, Captain? One group checks the bars while the others check his house?" Dominic asked, walking in stride with them.

"Shit, Dominic. Don't you know that's bad luck?" Piers said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Horror 101, don't ever split up the party."

"As a note, Dominic, I'm not saving your ass if we get separated," Chris said in a bland tone.

"Same," Leon said with a sage nod of his head. "You're the first to die. We'll write you a fitting epitaph. What do you think, Amara? 'Too dumb to live?'"

"Nah," Chris said, giving Amara's shoulder a squeeze. "How about 'Tempted Fate one too many times and Fate made him her bitch.' What do you think, Amara? A good one?"

"Sure. Talk shit about the black man dying first. I'm gonna laugh my ass off when y'all get shot first," Dominic gripped back, glaring playfully at the two men as they made their way into the parking lot.

Amara had to bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing at the back and forth between the guys. Piers rolled his eyes and quickly darted up behind Amara to pass her the keys to the Jeep.

"Or," he said, flashing her a grin, "how about we leave the three amigos here to keep talking about Fate, and you and I go to Wickers place, leaving them in the dust?"

Amara grinned, slipping out from under Chris' arm with a laugh as she followed Piers, who darted over to one of the Jeeps in the parking lot. She got into the driver's seat while Piers got into the passenger seat. He locked the door with a laugh, leaving the other three males knocking at the doors in mock-anger. Amara giggled uncontrollably for a moment, glad for that little bit of humor before shit really hit the fan, and unlocked the doors letting the three men into the Jeep.

"Damn. Too bad we can't leave them here," Piers said with a grin as the guys got in the back.

"So. You boys, going to behave?" Amara asked, reigning in her giggles. "Or am I going to have put you in separate corners?"

"We'll be good, mom," the three chimed up in various tones.

Chris sounded pouty, Leon was dead-panned, and Dominic sounded like a kicked puppy.

Both Piers and Amara burst into another round of laughter as Amara backed the Jeep up and pulled out onto the road. Leon acted as her GPS on the road. As she drove, Piers peered back at the three men through the rearview mirror. He nearly laughed at the scene. Leon seemed to be dwarfed by the two larger men on either side of him. He nudged Amara carefully and subtly pointed at the mirror.

"Should look if you get a half a second," he murmured soft enough that the others couldn't hear him. The typical New York traffic was loud enough that they shouldn't.

Amara raised an eyebrow, and as they came to a stop for a red light, she glanced up at the mirror. She had to bite her lower lip to prevent herself from laughing at the sight. Leon looked up at just the right time as he was giving her directions on where to turn next and blinked when he met her gaze in the mirror. He frowned for a moment and then glanced to each side of himself before letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes at her. He mouthed the word 'really?' at her. She grinned innocently back at him.

A good half hour later and they arrived at the apartment complex that Alex Wickers lived in. Amara parked the Jeep, and they all exited the vehicle, closing the doors behind them.

"I call shotgun when we leave," Dominic grumbled.

"Dude, no fair," Piers said, giving the other man a shove.

"Could always arm wrestle for it," Chris said with a grin, flexing his muscles.

"I call the driver's seat," Leon said in a dead-panned tone that caused the other males to stare at him with surprised blinks. "If you lot want to fight over the shotgun, go ahead."

"Well, damn. Guess y'all are walking then," Amara said, giving all four of them a blank stare while holding up the keys.

She pocketed the keys and turned away, walking toward the main doors of the apartment complex with a grin. All four of them yet out overlapping yelps of complaints and apologies as they caught up with her. Amara laughed, glancing over at the four of them.

"Behave then," she said in a teasing yet firm tone. "Shall we get on with our mission?"

"Yes, ma'am," they all said dutifully.

As she turned away from them, she overheard Leon muttering to Chris.

"And this is why they want to give her your job," the sandy-blonde-haired male said.

Amara shook her head, lips curling up into a smile. However, she was quick to wipe it away as they approached the apartment building. As they entered the main portion of the building, she noticed that the building itself was too quiet. A few people peeked out of their rooms as they made their way upstairs to the upper floors, only to duck back inside with the sound of locking doors and thin chains sliding into place. Something had spooked these people, and badly so. Glancing over to the guys, she could tell that they had noticed the same thing by their expressions. They nodded to her.

Something had happened here... something bad...

Chapter Text

Jesus fuck! I thought as I shakily washed my hands and cleaned up. I let out a heavy sigh and then started for the secondary lab's exit, running my fingers through my hair. Just... Calm down. Things could have gone worse. Things could have gone a Hel of a lot worse.

I walked almost blindly down the street, heading for the city proper as I got lost in thought. We were lucky that we'd only lost two scientists, one assistant, and three guards after that debacle of a test. Luckier still that Wesker had created that inhibitor, field-tested or not.

Gods, I should have pushed back a little more when Wesker announced that he was going to mix the damned T-virus with the Eve strain he'd isolated. At the very least, he had listened to my concerns that the mix might be stronger than expected and had used restraints of the same caliber as those meant to hold a gods-damned Tyrant in place. Because the damned 'Eve-T' strain of the virus had gone out of control almost immediately after being injected into the test subject, a fellow who had volunteered to be a test subject if he died or was comatose for a long period.

The guy had popped up like a damned jack-in-the-box and started attacking the closest scientists to him. The restraints had barely bought us time to start the evacuation protocols.

Usually, a few bullets to the brain would disable a zombie. No dice this time. The acid used to flood the room when the guards and scientists inside were killed only turned it into a walking, half-melted nightmare as it forced itself out of the room and towards us. Like the bullets, blunt trauma to the head did little to stop it, but at least it seemed to daze the thing a little bit.

Wesker had been forced to combat the mutated creature directly, and even he'd had issues with it. And Wesker was fucking strong. I had the bright idea to hit the zombie with a syringe of the Eve-inhibitor while he was busy holding the thing down. It worked, thank the gods, but it still took him time to fully disable the Eve-T zombie. Once all the survivors were accounted for and the remains eradicated, Wesker personally destroyed the vials of the Eve-T mix and the files pertaining to the experiment. A strain like that could tank all of his plans.

I paused, thinking to turn around and head home to get some rest, and shook my head. After all that? Yeah, I needed to get very firmly sauced. Tonight had been one of those really bad nights where I needed a drink. Imagine my surprise when Wesker slid onto the stool next to mine an hour later as I was downing the last of my second Sex in the Driveway. I glanced at the empty glass and then looked back up at him.

"Are you seriously patronizing a cheap-ass bar, or am I just that drunk?" I asked in a dry tone, trying to figure out why in the Hel he was there.

"You're drunk," he answered in a very blunt tone, and I had to contain a shiver. Gods, the man's voice was fun to listen to even when I was sober. Drunk? Whoo-boy. D.C. Douglas really hit the nail on the head doing his voice for the games. Not that I'd ever say anything... "But I also came to collect you."

"Why? The clean-ups are done. Everyone got checked over. Emails were sent out as needed. I'm off the damned clock," I said with a bitter laugh, signaling the bartender for another drink. "Want a Sex in the Driveway if you're planning on hanging around?"

"Hm," Wesker tilted his head at me and then signaled for the bartender to bring him the same. "Why not. Unlike yourself, my superior DNA will keep me from dealing with the hangover you're going to have. Your yet imperfect Human DNA is going to fail you and leave you suffering in the morning."

I almost lost it. I covered my mouth and turned away from Wesker, struggling not to burst into wild cackles. Gods. He'd actually said that. 'Superior DNA.' 'Imperfect Human DNA.' Fucking Hel. That damned Old Spice Commercial Parody was running through my head and going to get me killed! I quickly downed the remainder of my water, almost choking on it in the process.

When I glanced back at him, his head was tilted just a hair to the side. I couldn't see his eyes, but I'd known him long enough now to tell that he was both annoyed and amused. I held up my water glass toward the bartender, and the guy was kind enough to refill the glass after placing my third SitD in front of me.

"Sorry, just… Who even says that?" I asked with a shake of my head, trying to think of how to deflect my thoughts away from that silly video. I held up my water. "Besides, unlike other idiots, I know how to keep hydrated as I drink. I don't get hangovers. So there."

"Lucky… twat…" said the drunk on the other side of me. The dude's head was buried in his arms.

I'd gotten used to the broken-hearted idiot's muttering. He'd been drowning his sorrow in his drinks since I'd arrived. The mutters were mostly just background noise now. Wesker, however, was openly sneering at the man. He picked up his drink as the bartender set it down and caught my arm in his hand, giving me a firm but gentle-ish tug.

"Follow me," he said in that bossy-ass tone of his. "I have no desire to be near such vermin."

"Da fuk you jus' call me?" the dude said, managing to actually exert enough effort to lift his head, and he glared blearily at Wesker.

"Shhh, he was talking about the biker dude from earlier," I said, lying through my teeth as I reached over and pushed the man's head gently back down. "Asshole's sitting at the table behind us. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Him," the dude's head fell back against the table with a 'thunk' despite my best effort to avoid just that result. "Ow. Fuk dat guy. Bye, nice lady."

"Why tolerate sitting next to such filth?" Wesker asked after he led me to a booth near the front door. He even let me take a seat with a full view of the entrance.

"Eh, it was something mundane to keep my mind off what happened," I said with a shrug, sipping at my drink. "Shit was rough."

"You did well," he said after taking a slow pull of his own drink. "Quick thinking with the inhibitor, and you were able to keep the other scientists in the room with us safe."

"I was whacking at the damned thing with a chair," I countered with a huff, downing half my drink in one go. "You're the one who actually got it off of us."

"Indeed," he smirked that cocky half-smile of his. "Remind you of something?"

"How we met, yeah," I said with an amused snort as I switched back to my water. I let out a dry laugh, swirling the ice around in my glass. "Yay, for being a shield-maiden."

"Interesting," Wesker tilted his head, blinking at me from behind his glasses. I think I actually surprised him. Then again, I had never really talked about my family all that much. Just my husband. I mean, why bother? They were lost to me forever and dwelling… It hurt. "You're Norse?"

"Ehhh," I waffled my hand back and forth a bit. "It's nothing big to brag about. I'm like, maybe one-sixteenth Norse. My family used to worship Loki in the old days. Learned a little hand to hand as a kid. The only lesson that really stuck with me was that even a shield can be used to kill people. 'Never underestimate the power of a good blow to the head with a blunt object!'"

"Hence the heavy chair that you were wielding," he said with a huff of amusement at my poor efforts at mimicking my great-uncle's accent.

"Yup," I said, popping the 'p' with a smirk and looking down at my glass. "Quieter than a damned gun, after all. Would have preferred a steel baseball bat or a beam."

"Wise of you," he said before downing the rest of his drink in one go.

He set the glass to the side and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. The silence continued for several minutes, but the quiet was something that I was comfortable with. I was not usually one for babbling to fill the silence. Unless I had a gun pointed at me... Fear response, that.

"I'm curious," he began in a bland tone as I set my water aside and picked my alcoholic drink back up. "Have you ever had sex on the beach?"

"I..." I blinked blankly at him for a moment before taking a long pull from my drink.

I had to have misheard him. There was no way he'd just asked that. No way in Hel. I was just drunk and hearing things wrong. Okay, sure, both labs were located less than a mile from a private beach that TriCell owned. And yeah, we were on an island that had plenty of beaches in general. That meant nothing, right? I let out a huff and looked down at my glass.

"I mean, it's just a version of Sex in the Driveway with orange and cranberry juice, right?" I answered questioningly, half-hoping that I'd just misheard his question. "I don't really like cran-"

Wesker moved faster than I could blink, and a gloved finger touched my chin. He forced my head up so that I was looking at him. I swallowed roughly. Years of spending time with him told me that he was… upset. Not angry, not yet, but definitely upset.

"Don't play dumb, Lorraine," he said, his voice a low, rumbly growl. "You know better."

"I…" I fell silent for a moment, cheeks warming as I found myself wondering what the Hel was going on. My tone was hesitant as I answered him. "I have not."

"Let us rectify that then, hm?" he said as he stood up, pulling out his wallet, a sleek, expensive leather one, as he started for the bar. "Finish your drink."

I watched him go, feeling more than a little dumbfounded as he paid the bartender for my drinks. Looking back at my glasses, I quickly downed the last of both the alcohol and the water before standing and making my way to the bathroom. Less to 'freshen up' and more to buy myself a few moments to just think.

What is he planning? I thought to myself, thoughts racing as I washed my hands. He never does anything without a purpose, so why-?

A knock at the door made me jump about a half-inch into the air.

"Hiding?" Wesker's mocking tone made my teeth hurt.

"Three alcoholic drinks and three large glasses of water," I countered evasively with a scoff, turning off the water and exiting while trying to hide my blush. Never mind that he was right. "Even you would need to empty your 'superior' bladder."

"Hm," he tilted his head at me, smirking that damnable smirk of his, before holding out his arm. Asshole, yes, but also a gentleman. "Come along."

Huffing softly, I tentatively tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. He led me out of the bar and down the road toward the nearby private beach. My thoughts continued to race, practically in time with my rapidly beating heart. I couldn't even enjoy the novelty of... Of bloody well going on a walk under the light of a full moon simply because none of this made sense.

What had prompted him to do this? Wesker had never once made a pass at me before now. And while he was attractive as fuck, and yeah, who wouldn't have a few fantasies about the man, I'd never once dared to flirt with him. The relationship between us had been strictly professional, and I'd been damned proud of the fact that I hadn't once 'swooned' over him since my arrival on his Earth. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and found his expression inscrutable.

He said nothing as we approached the sandy vista of the beach. I looked away from him, glad that he was giving me time to think. Before our feet could cross from concrete to far softer surfaces, I dug in my heels and came to a stop. He paused as well, looking down at me with a smirk.

"Have you finally decided what you wanted to ask?" he asked, sounding thoroughly amused. I shot him a subdued glare, and he let out a low chuckle. "Your thoughts are loud enough to almost be heard."

"Can you blame me?" I snapped back in a somewhat nervous voice. "You never do anything without reason. So what the Hel is going on?"

"Tell me, do I need a reason to spend the night with a moderately intelligent and attractive female?" he countered with a smirk.

Amusingly enough, I knew that 'moderately intelligent' was actually a major compliment for him. I glanced away from him, feeling my cheeks heat up again.

"When you can break said female on accident during sex, yes!" I responded with a little, confused grumble. "You're about three to four times as strong as a typical male your height and build. If not stronger!"

"Cute," he said in a bone-dry tone. He leaned down to where our lips almost touched. "And what if I said that you are far stronger than you look after having spent almost a decade now in my care?"

"I-" I let out a choked noise and froze in place with my mouth open.

Wesker smirked and pulled back, letting my hand fall away from his arm. He walked purposefully away from me and onto the beach, his movements lithe as a feline. Wesker turned back around and looked at me, tilting his head just a little. It was as if he had crossed an unseen barrier or line and was waiting to see if I would do the same. I could almost see the amusement in his glowing dragon-like eyes despite the damned shades.

Once more, my mind was racing, quickly connecting the dots. The comment about my 'yet' imperfect DNA. Implying that there was something different about it. Different about me.

During those first few months here, he'd been very firm that I finish the meals he'd brought me. Very firm that I receive this world's versions of vaccinations. Even after that, once I'd been given my fake ID, he'd made certain that I went to my 'monthly check-ups' and got my yearly flu shots and... Wait a second… that last 'flu' shot. Any of the flu shots, really. They hadn't been for the flu, had they? Shit.

My hands slowly clenched into fists, rage beginning to course through me.

Bastard, I thought, glaring down at the ground.

All this time, I'd thought that I had avoided being experimented on. That I'd been kept on hand for both my information and because I worked my ass off as a competent assistant. Seriously. What if something had gone wrong? What if whatever he'd had injected into me hadn't reacted properly?

Son...

Of...

A...

Bitch!

My head jerked up, and I glared angrily at him. His lips quirked up into that damned, knowing smirk of his. For the second time in my life here, I dared to want to do something to wipe that look off his fucking face. Ignoring whatever invisible line he'd delineated, I stalked forward and went to punch him in the face. Oddly enough, he did nothing to block the blow. The solid right hook jerked his head to the side, knocking his glasses askew and actually split his lower lip.

A small burst of shock froze me into place. I... hadn't expected Wesker to just let the blow connect.

He started to laugh, dark and amused. Renewed anger pulsed through me, a snarl escaping my lips, and I threw a second punch. Wesker caught my wrist and spun, tossing me over his shoulder and further along the beach. I landed with a pained grunt, a wide spray of sand filling the air. I rolled and tried to get to my feet, only to be tackled to the ground. I spat out a mouthful of sand and tried to buck him off, only to be man-handled onto my back, his forearm pressed firmly to my neck.

"Strange, don't you think?" he began in a heated tone as he looked me over. His lip had already healed, and the blood had been wiped away. He'd fixed his damned glasses, too. "Had you been born on this world, I might have called you 'sister' had it not been for your hair and eye color. Spencer was so very specific when it came to the candidates for his project."

"The fuck are you-?" I froze beneath him, hands gripping his forearm.

My eyes widened as the implication hit me. I could have been a candidate for Project W? Despite being from another world entirely? How-?

He took advantage of my distraction and pressed his mouth to mine in a harsh kiss. Growling, I bit at his lower lip, caught between the urge to return the kiss and punish him however I could. The kiss turned outright vicious as I renewed my efforts to get free. To get a bit of space.

I managed to land a solid blow to his side and got tagged with a sharp jab to the solar plexus that left me wheezing for air. Deft fingers hooked into and tore open the front of my shirt. I let out a choked roar, part anger, part annoyance, part desire, and managed to somehow buck him off of me. Instinct drove me back to my feet, my lips pulled back in an angry snarl. In contrast to my mad scramble, he twisted to his feet as gracefully as any dancer.

"That's it, Lorraine," he purred hungrily, letting out a dark laugh and running his fingers over his hair. "Show me what you can do now that you know."

"You fucking son of a bitch," I snarled, yanking the remains of my shirt off and tossing it aside before it could be used to tangle my arms up. "You could have just told me!"

"And ruin part of the experiment?" he countered with a sneer and a scoff. "You are a human from another world, left untainted by this world's illnesses. To also have a subject whose genetics revealed that you could benefit greatly from the project that made me what I am? Oh, no. I was not about to let anything, even your admittedly long-fused temper, ruin this little experiment. Besides… what could you have done to stop me?"

"Fucking Hel," I shouted, slicing my hand through the air in front of me. "At least the illusion of consent would have been nice!"

"And what then?" he asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Had I asked, you would have capitulated out of fear. You would not have dared to say 'no' to me during those early years, and you know it, Lorraine. Do not pretend to be a fool."

"Isn't that what you've been treating me as?" I growled, hands clenching into fists tight enough that I felt my nails digging painfully into my palms. "How fucking long have you been dosing me with shit?"

"Preliminary work began two years into your stay here," he said with a small shrug. "You were given the Progenitor Virus after five, and, as you may have already deduced, the last shot you received was the reverse engineered version of Birkin's T-virus."

He wasn't wrong. That early on, I would have caved easily had he told me he was going to start testing on me. Especially if preliminary tests showed that I'd have a high likelihood of bonding as he did to the viruses. But I was still pissed. Growling low in my throat, I lunged forward and tried once more to hit him. He dodged to the side and I lashed out with my other fist, expecting the evasion and hoping to catch him with a feint. Sadly, I found myself promptly tossed over his shoulder again for my efforts. As I got tossed though, I lashed out with my leg, managing to catch him in the side of his head.

I hit the ground hard, another spray of sand filling the air. I pushed myself back up in time to see Wesker's glasses land several feet away. Hah, take that, you smug bastard! He ran a finger over his eye to wipe away the blood from the wound I'd managed to open on his brow.

"As for how I have treated you? I have treated you as an unknowing test subject, yes. And as someone with potential," Wesker rumbled softly, his voice deadly. "But never a fool. I hate fools. You know that."

Shit. I rolled to the side as Wesker surged toward me, but he still caught me around the legs. I snarled, twisting and punching down at the back of his head. He took the blow... and promptly ignored it. His hand closed around my wrist as I went to draw my hand back, and he twisted my arm behind me, forcing me around and pinning me on my stomach. Roaring, I pushed against the ground with my free hand and lurched backward, sending us tumbling through the sand.

Dark laughter filled the air as we rolled over the ground. Wesker twisted around me, lithe as a fucking snake, and caught my throat in his hand. Once more, I found myself pinned on my back, barely able to breathe past the tight grip.

"That's it," he growled, his free hand tearing the front of my denim pants open with a loud rip. "Glorious. The rage. The strength. No one else could have thrown me off like that."

"Fuck… you…" I managed to choke out, clawing and hitting at his arm.

"That is the goal, remember?" he said with a smirk, hand darting down the front of my torn pants and beneath my silk undies. He pressed two leather-clad fingers against my already wet slit and rubbed teasingly at my entrance. "I told you exactly why I was bringing you out here… and you still came with me. I will have you, Lorraine. Or are you going to tell me 'no'?"

I snarled up at him, cheeks warming. He wasn't wrong. I knew why we'd come out here, but… I bit my lower lip, stubbornly remaining silent. Wesker's smirk grew, the pupils of his eyes widening and narrowing in turn. His fingers very slowly and purposefully pushed into me, giving me time to react… to withdraw. I stayed silent, panting softly, my hands tightening around his arm as he eased those two digits as deep as possible.

My hips jolted upwards as if I'd been struck by lightning as he began to rub the leather-clad pads of his fingers over my insides. Teasing. Searching. A strained cry of anger and pleasure both spilled past my lips. My vision darkened for a moment before clearing and I bucked beneath him, again trying to push him off. His weight bore me back down, those clever fingers moving deftly within me even as he kept me pinned. Fuck. I was so damned angry. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him, but-oh, gods...

It all felt so good. Like I'd hoped, even dreamed, on occasion. Tremors ran through my form. My feet scrambled against the sand, unable to gain any real purchase. A low, dark, and hungry chuckle escaped Wesker. His fingers scissored within me, equal parts stretching me open and searching over my inner walls, seeking where I was most sensitive. Wet noises began to fill the air as he worked his fingers in and out of my pussy, his thumb shifting to tease in circles over my clit. I bit harder into my lower lip, struggling to contain little thready noises of need. I could be quiet when the situation called for it, and an open beach certainly called for it, but I was a naturally vocal person during sex.

He leaned close, lips brushing teasingly over my ear.

"Listen. Do you hear that? Hear how wet you are for me?" he asked, his voice growly with lust. Teeth sank into my shoulder hard enough to bruise, and I couldn't stifle the howl as it spilled past my lips. As I arched beneath him, my hands dropped and scrambled at the ground. He pulled back with a laugh, tongue passing soothingly over the abused skin. "You've wanted me for a long time now, haven't you? Ached and longed to be in just this position, yes?"

"Not a chan-grk!" his hand tightened around my throat, cutting off my air for a moment.

Wesker's fingers pushed in deep before curling inside me. Pain and pleasure both jolted through me as he hooked his fingers harshly right over my G-spot. My body curled inward reflexively. A high, strained whine spilled from my lips as my mind jumped from 'hurts' to 'feels good' and back like a pendulum.

"Do not lie to me, Lorraine" he snarled, pulling back to glare at me with those dark red and yellow, draconian eyes of his. "Not when I've had to put up with your heady, delicious scent for years now. Your lust has always been obvious to me."

Oh, fuck, I thought, as a blush heated my cheeks.

Shit. Why did I assume that Wesker had just gained a boost to his speed and strength thanks to the viruses? The eyes alone were a huge fucking clue that his other senses might have been heightened as well. But how was I supposed to know? He'd never let on that he was aware of my, very firmly buried, attraction to him.

Wesker chuckled softly, pulling back. The two fingers within me relaxed, starting to rub in soothing circles over the abused flesh. His eyes roved over my form, likely tracking just how far that blush went on my pale skin. Growling low, feeling quite thoroughly embarrassed, I bucked beneath him and tried to shove at his chest. A warning snarl filled the air and his fingers hooked within me a second time. Another pain-pleasured whine escaped me, and I went still.

Hooked. Just like a damned fish caught on the line… Damnit!

"Are you going to tell me to 'stop,' Lorraine?" he rumbled the question in a low voice.

A shiver of rage and anticipation ran through me at the question. I went limp beneath him and met Wesker's eyes with a glare, remaining silent. He chuckled knowingly at my silent defiance, fingers again relaxing within me. Those skilled digits resumed their slow, teasing movements over my inner walls. Another shiver ran through me as he tapped them against my G-spot. Strained noises of desire spilled past my clenched teeth despite my efforts to remain silent. He leaned back over me, teeth scraping over my ear.

"I thought not. How long do you think you can hold out before giving in to what we both know that you want, hm?" he purred in a sultry tone, his breath warm against my skin. "How long before you are left howling and begging for more?"

"I..." I let out a choked gasp as a lesser orgasm rocked through me. Another chuckle filled my ear as he skillfully stoked the flames of desire higher still within me. "I can take care of myself... I don't... need... you."

"Oh, I know you can take care of yourself, my Lorraine," he said with a smirk as he pushed a third finger into me.

My eyes fluttered at the sensation of being stretched open more than I was used to after so many years without a partner. I had a few personal toys, sure, but none so thick as this. Most were vibrators designed to focus on specific points. It was a struggle not to writhe mindlessly beneath him as he worked me open. Gods, but it felt good. Foreplay was amazing when done right and… well, to be honest, this was hitting a lot of 'good' buttons for me.

"I also know just how wonderfully lewd you can be," he purred mockingly into my ear.

"You..." my eyes snapped back open as I realized what he meant. I knew he had to have bugged my place but hadn't really given any thought to the fact that he... that he might have bugged my damned bedroom too. "Motherfucker! Have you been watching-?!"

I snarled in embarrassment and rage, knowing I was probably about as red as a tomato. I managed to catch Wesker off guard with a solid blow to the kidney that forced the air from his lungs. The blow had been harsh enough that he actually jolted physically with the pain. It also froze him up enough that I was able to shove him off and avoid being hooked for a third time.

I rolled to the side and scrambled back to my feet. I needed to put some space between us. Needed to think. Needed to… to what? A large part of me was angry at him, sure. Highly embarrassed at the thought that I'd probably inadvertently given him the occasional show, yeah. But part of me was also further turned on at the thought that he… what, that he might have been watching and had enjoyed himself? Yeah, I had a minor exhibitionist kink, but still...!

And yet beyond that, a deeper, far more primal part of me had woken up and rose above all those other thoughts, filling me with another desire entirely;

I wanted to make him earn it. Earn me.

I stumbled at that sudden influx of emotion, one hand flying up to grip at the side of my head. Instinct roared within me, pure and wild. I dodged to the side, somehow avoiding another attempt to knock me back down. I stumbled and gripped at my head with both hands, feeling dizzy and warm and...

Dark laughter filled the air. Again that instinct tore through me, forcing me to move to the side. I stumbled and rolled to my hands and knees, gagging. Gods, I felt like I was about to throw up. My equilibrium was all out of whack.

"Glorious," he murmured from somewhere above me. I could just make out the sound of a belt being undone past the thudding of my heart in my ears. "It's taking to you so well. Focus. Breathe past the nausea. It takes time to get used to moving so quickly."

"Fuck… you..." I said, coughing and spitting up the foul taste in my mouth.

"Again, that is the goal this evening," he purred into my ear.

I jolted forward, realizing that he was suddenly kneeling over me from behind, but leather-clad fingers looped through the waistband of my pants. They were yanked off of me, sending me toppling forward. Before I could scramble away, Wesker's hands closed around my hips, and I was hauled up and backward. His length, hard and eager, rubbed between the cleft of my ass. I bit harshly into my lower lip to contain a needy whimper at the feel of him pressing so firmly against my heated skin. He leaned over me, his weight heavy against my back. Soft lips pressed feather-light against my ear.

"Tell me 'no,' and I will stop, my Lorraine," he said, his voice filled with wicked promise.

A shudder ran through me. I wanted him. Had very quietly lusted after him. He wasn't wrong. But more than that, I wanted, needed, to fight back…

Snarling wordlessly, I spun around and tried to backhand him with a closed fist. Wesker caught my wrist and bore me back to the ground on my side. He let go of my wrist and quickly caught me by the throat once more. My left leg was hefted up and partially over his left shoulder. Wesker's other hand closed around my hip, leaving me twisted a little oddly what with my upper shoulders and back firmly against the ground. He surged forward, slamming inside me in one smooth thrust that forced a howl past my lips.

My body jolted with the shock and pained delight of being filled so abruptly. So forcefully. The angle was… My thoughts fled as the head of his cock pushed roughly at my cervix. The tight confines of my body clenched and fluttered around him as another lesser orgasm rocked my body. The earlier preparation had helped some, but he was thick and long enough that he wasn't buried fully within me just yet. My body would open, would make room for more of him in time, but… Gods… It felt good to be filled like this after so long 'using the self-service pump,' if you will.

"Oh, fuck yes," I said with a strangled gasp.

He chuckled above me, his voice deep and lustful, and I was abruptly reminded of my anger. I bucked about wildly, trying to get free, but Wesker moved with me, and I had no leverage to break free. Not when one hand was on my throat and the other was gripping my hip bruisingly tight. Not when the sandy ground beneath me provided no real purchase.

A low growl filled the air, and he began to move. Another ragged gasp spilled past my lips. The pace he set was brutal. Vicious and animalistic in all the best ways. I bucked and writhed beneath him, doing everything I could think of to knock him away… The only thoughts running through my mind just then was the pleasure of his cock pounding in and out of my body, gliding and rubbing over my insides as he stretched me open, and that I would make him earn this. Primal instinct had overruled logical thought in a way that left me almost literally seeing red.

"You... bastard," I growled, a strained moan spilling past my lips, lower body shuddering around him.

"You're enjoying this," he growled back, fingers flexing around my neck. The angle of his thrusts shifted abruptly so that his length glided over my G-spot with every surging movement forward into my body.

"I... Oh, gods," I jerked and howled, legs shaking as a sharper orgasm tore through me.

Wesker groaned above me, a guttural noise that rumbled deep in his chest as he pounded faster into my body. His grip tightened and loosened in turns around my throat, forcing my screams to change into strained noises and then back to pleasured yowls. My hands scrambled over his wrist, trying to pull his hand away as I glared heatedly, hungrily up at him. Dark red-orange, dragon-like eyes stared down at me. Unyielding. His lips had pulled back into a snarling smirk.

My eyes fluttered partially shut, a thin whine escaping me. Gods, that look in his eyes... My body bucked up to meet his next powerful thrust. I began to meet his movements, eager for more.

"That's it... good girl," he purred, making me tremble at the open praise in his tone. "You're taking it so well..."

Wesker's head abruptly jerked to the side. He snarled, lips slamming against my own to silence me before I could even think to ask what was wrong. It took a moment for me to make out the sounds of a group of people over the wet noises of our bodies slapping together. Drunken laughter and jokes filled the air. Even with people so close to discovering us, he didn't stop moving. Didn't stop stirring up my insides with that hard, hard cock. No, he just used his body and partially torn coat to conceal me from sight.

I might have laughed had I not been moaning into his mouth, desperately returning that harsh kiss. My fingers tangled in his blonde tresses, mussing up his hair further still. With my leg still partially over his shoulder, the angle was intense as Hel. The head of his cock pressing deep. His groin pressed against my own, creating a near constant pressure against my clit. So close... again, so close.

My hips bucked and I pulled back with a strained howl. His hand tightened around my neck, cutting off my cry of release. Spots filled my vision as I struggled for air, my fingers all but tearing his hair out as I tried to pull him back. Or perhaps I was trying to pull him closer. I no longer knew. All that mattered was the pleasure.

His pace quickened, teeth sinking into my shoulder as he let out his own raw, muffled roar of release. Choked noises escaped me as a flood of cum filled me. Hot… hot hot hot! Every thrust was followed by another pulse inside me until I was left whimpering beneath him. Eventually, he stilled above me, breath leaving him in heavy pants.

"You are mine," he growled, pulling back enough to meet my eyes. A shiver ran through me at the look he was giving me. "No one touches you but me. No one sees you in such a depraved state like this but me. Do you understand, my Lorraine?"

I blinked dazedly up at him, feeling more than a little disoriented after the rough but wonderful bout of sex. I'm not sure what I would have said had I been in my right mind. Everything was a mix of red and heat and desire. What I did say, however, shocked me once it registered to my rational brain.

"I'll do as I please," I said in a strangled, scream-roughened voice that didn't quite sound right.

Those dragon-like pupils above me widened and then narrowed into dangerous slits. A snarl twisted his visage, and I rapidly found myself spun about and pinned back on my stomach. I tried to squirm free, only to have one leather-clad hand latch onto my hip to lift my ass into the air. The other pressed down firmly between my shoulders, keeping my chest pinned against the rough sand beneath me. He slammed back inside, every last inch of his cock filling me. Stretching me to the brim. Another cry of pleasured pain spilled from my lips.

Does he not know the meaning of a refractory period?! I thought with a desperate, high-pitched whine.

"Wes... ker!" I howled, hands clawing uselessly for purchase at the sand beneath me as he started thrusting again, hard and fast and wonderfully brutal.

"You are mine," he snarled above me. "Say it!"

"Fuck... you!" I hissed back, voice breaking off with a choked howl as his fingers found and pinched at my clit.

My eyes rolled back in my head as he continued to take me like that. The angle was perfect, every thrust had his cock sliding over my G-spot before hitting my cervix. Within minutes I was pushed howling over the edge again, body clenching tight around the thick shaft pounding in and out of my body. A low groan of pleasure echoed from above me, and he went still again, cock jerking within me sharp enough to make me whimper as another flood of cum was pumped into my body. He pulled out of me with a perversely wet sound, fluid dripping down my inner thighs, and spun me about so that I was laying on my back once more.

"Mine," he growled, leather-clad hand stroking almost gently over my cheek. His dragon-like eyes were glowing. "Say it."

"I..." I panted for breath, licking my lips. I sneered up at him, instincts still thrumming a wild, capricious beat in my chest. "Earn. It."

An enraged noise escaped him as he pulled back, grabbing me by the legs. He hooked my ankles over his shoulders, and rammed his still hard cock back inside me before falling forward to brace one hand next to my head. The other closed tight around my breast, the nipple caught and pinched tightly between his fingers. He rolled his hips back before snapping them forward, tugging at my nipple as he bottomed out within me. I gasped, reaching out to grab him and wrench him down into a hungry, biting kiss.

"You are mine," he hissed against my mouth, his tongue darting out to war with my own for a long, heated moment as he continued to rock in and out of my body. He pulled back with a growl. "Mine, Lorraine. Do you understand me?!"

A strained whine escaped my throat. Instead of answering, I tore at the front of Wesker's black silk shirt, ripping it open and stroking my hands over his chest. A particularly good thrust had me arching beneath him, arms wrapping around and under his shirt, nails digging into the skin of his back as I howled my release to the skies. He nipped up the line of my neck. His tongue teased over my ear before he caught my earring between his teeth and gave it a firm tug before letting go.

"Say. It," he ordered again, his voice low and deep.

I whimpered and shook my head, unable to speak as I trembled around him. As my inner walls quivered and milked his shaft. Wesker wrenched back and out of me with a frustrated snarl of sound, grabbing me by the wrists. He spun me around as he sat back on his knees, yanking me onto his lap so that his chest pressed firmly against my back. His cock slid over my entrance, catching painfully and almost slipping free before sliding home once more.

Strained little whines spilled past my lips as he wrapped one arm firmly around my shoulders. His fingers found my clit, rubbing and pinching in turns as he began to thrust up into my body. Teeth sank into my neck, not enough to draw blood, but a firm hold nonetheless. He seemed dead set on claiming every inch of my body and making sure I knew just who I belonged to in the process. And I was enjoying every minute of it. As another hot wave of seed flooded into me, spilling from me with every wet thrust, forcing me over the edge yet again, a sense of pure and absolute satisfaction suffused my being, and I fell limp against him.

"Mine," he growled into my ear as his mouth pulled away from my neck.

"Yes," I said with a moaning whimper. I turned my head to kiss him over my shoulder, and he met me with a purring rumble of noise. "Mine..."

That last bit of tension melted from Wesker's form. His fingers trailed soothingly up and down the front of my body, pausing to pinch teasingly at my nipples before stroking back down over my stomach. I shivered and hissed at the touch.

"Yes," he murmured, kissing the side of my throat. "Feeling possessive now as well, I take it?"

"Mmhmm," I mumbled and nodded my head. Odd. Why was the anger from earlier just… gone? Was it because of the virus? Was it… pleased? Speaking of… "Why… Why did you have me infected…? What was the point? There's... ngh... always a point."

"The goal has always been to build a superior species of Humanity," Wesker growled against my skin, nipping my neck hard enough to leave yet another bruise. I whimpered. He shifted, started to rock up into me again. A gentler, rolling motion that made me moan low in my throat. "Said species needs to be able to procreate, my Lorraine."

"Ah... because of my bloodwork, you wanted to see if I could be made into a compatible partner. Right," I said, letting out a bemused huff. An approving hum filled the air as he nuzzled my neck.

A random thought hit me, and I burst into a soft fit of laughter that was quickly cut off as my body tightened reflexively around his length. Fuck. He was still hard. And here every inch of my own body felt overstimulated. Heated.

"And what has humored you so?" he said, letting out a pleased growl as he pushed me forward and back onto my hands and knees.

"Just… thought of a bit of…" I let out a groan, folding down to rest my head on my forearms as he began to take me again, far more gently than before. "Ngh... A bit of mischief enough to make my… my family's former deity pleased."

"Oh?" he leaned over me, bare chest pressing firmly against my backside as he nipped at the base of my neck. "And what would please Loki, hm?"

"Fuck, that feels good..." I arched back against him, reaching back to tangle my fingers in his hair. Another nip, harsher this time, reminded me that he'd asked a question. "Mmmm, should I... haaa... Should I send invites out to Valentine? Maybe even Kennedy? Hel, should I send the Redfield's an invite as well as a polite request for Chris to be your 'best man?'"

Perhaps it was a bit much to joke about marriage in such a way, but… Wesker paused above me. His body started shaking, his breath ghosting rapidly over my neck. A moment passed before he openly burst into a fit of dark laughter. His hands danced over my bare skin, teasing and pinching at my breasts, trailing down to tease my stomach.

"Ah, to see his face," Wesker continued, still laughing even as his rocking pace picked up. "Write up and deliver the invite when you deliver the inhibitor. I'll give you a pair of glasses with a camera in the rim to record his reaction."

I had bloody well been joking, but...

"Ah... you…" I shuddered and glanced back at him over my shoulder. "Deliver… hnnnn… You're sending me to… fuck… New York?"

"If the test at the park goes well, then yes," he responded with a low growl, hands moving to grasp my hips as he leaned back. "I'm not about to lose two of my best subjects to this 'Eve.' Enough talk, my Lorraine. I'm not done making you scream for me..."

Gods damn the stamina of this man… I thought with a groan, head falling back against the sand. He wasn't going to end up killing me with a gun, now was he?

Chapter Text

As they slowly approached the front door of Alex Wickers' apartment, Amara fell back behind Chris, allowing him to take the lead into what was potentially hostile territory. Chris moved to the left of the apartment door while Piers and Dominic took the right side. Amara kept an eye down the hall, leaving the door clear just in case anyone opened fire on them. Everyone had their hands resting loosely on the butt of their guns. Leon raised his hand and knocked on the door with one knuckle.

“Alex Wickers?” Leon called out, knocking a second time when there was no answer. “BSAA Agents, here to talk to you on behalf of the NYPD. Are you there? Mr. Wickers?”

The longer there was no response, the more on edge the group became. After a few more attempts to get the man’s attention, Leon tried the door. Locked. Leon moved back and to the side, allowing Chris to approach the door. Chris shifted so that his shoulder was leaning against the door and, with a hefty slam, managed to quietly force the door open. Chris pulled his gun from its' holster, nodding at the others, who all drew their own weapons. He kept the gun pointed at the ceiling and slowly pushed open the door. Chris quickly entered with the other four behind him in standard stealth breach and clear. 

Amara headed to the closest room to her, the bedroom, with Piers guarding her back. She quickly swept the room, noticing a small bit of blood on the floor near the bed. Like someone had cut their hand. The room, for the most part, was undisturbed, but the lamp had been knocked over. Piers quickly checked the adjoining bathroom, Amara watching his back this time. As Piers exited, he shook his head, signaling that no one was there.

“Bedroom and bathroom clear!” she called out to the other three.

“Living room and kitchen clear!” Leon’s voice sounded a moment later.

“Office clear!” Dominic’s voice called out.

The group met back up in the living room. The glass table in front of the TV was shattered. Amara looked around the room with a frown, noting that the couch was knocked out of place, with the rug beneath it scrunched up and fresh marks from the couch scoured into the flooring. She looked at the rest of them. 

“Looks like the struggle may have started in the bedroom,” she said in a grave tone. “There's blood on the carpet. Not a big wound. We can take a sample to see if it's Alex’s or not.”

“Alex, or whoever was injured, ran here into the living room,” Leon said, looking the scene over with a critical eye pointing at the carpet and the couch. “Likely got tackled given the damage to the table and how the couch is positioned. No other signs of blood. Looks like whoever it was, was disabled quickly.”

“I hate to say it,” Amara said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “But I have a feeling that this definitely has something to do with what happened at Carnegie Hall.”

"Do you think he was part of what happened or that he saw something he wasn’t supposed to?” Piers asked, tone serious.

"No, I don't think it was something he saw that led to this," Amara said after a few moments thinking about the events that night at the Hall. "And I don't think he is the type Eve would want to work with."

“He may not be working with her ,” Dominic pointed out with a raised finger. “He may just have been there to monitor her success or failure, depending on how things might have gone. We can’t rule out anything until we find him or more information.”

“Right,” Leon glanced around the room again and then shook his head. “Look around. Find his laptop or computer. Check for hidden compartments or a safe. Let’s see if he’s a perp or a target.”

Amara nodded and started back to the bedroom, Piers on her heels. Once she was out of sight of the others, she pinched the bridge of her nose. Letting out a sigh, she rubbed her hand over her face briefly before dropping it to the side. She holstered her gun and moved over to the dresser. Piers moved over to her side, checking one of the other drawers.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a hint of worry.

"I'm as fine as I can be," Amara muttered back quietly, glancing at him before turning back to the dresser. "I just hate feeling like I'm being ignored just because I don't have proof to back up a gut instinct..."

"I hear you. It seems odd that a man with his background would be a perp," Piers said in a low voice, moving to the next drawer. 

Amara shot him a grateful look before moving over to the bedside table while Piers checked the closet. They spent a couple minutes searching the room and the bathroom before meeting back up. Piers shook his head, and she nodded, starting back for the living room. Leon walked in just as they did, a mid-sized safe in his hands. 

"Well, we have a safe. Does anyone find clues to the combination?" he asked, sharing a dry look with Chris, who walked out of the office room.

"Yup," he held up a small notepad. "Guy seems to be a bit forgetful. Wrote down all his computer passwords too."

"Nothing of note on the laptop or desktop, by the way," Dominic said, holding up the device in question. "Looking more and more like Amara had the right of it."

"Probably," Chris said, looking at a slightly disgruntled Amara after passing the notebook to Leon. "I get wanting to follow your gut right off the bat, but Leon and I were cops before joining the BSAA, and if there is one thing we learned there, it's to always have evidence to back up that gut feeling. Especially if you start getting a bad feeling about a fellow cop..."

The last part was said in a low mutter. Amara grimaced at Chris' words. She got what he meant, but...

"Evidence can't always be found," she muttered softly. 

Dark thoughts threatened to overtake her for a moment. She shook her head to clear her thoughts of the one other, disastrous relationship she'd been in. 

"If you can, always at least try to find evidence," Leon said, shooting her a concerned look before trying a few different combinations from the notebook. The safe finally clicked open. He looked inside and let out a small huff as he rifled through it. "Right. A couple of old bonds probably worth a pretty penny, an old six-shooter that's missing the cylinder, and a simple silver necklace… wait, no, the tag says white-gold. Hm… got a letter that says this is stuff he inherited from his parents when they passed."

"Nothing else?" Piers asked, looking over Leon's shoulder.

"Nope," Leon sighed, leaning back and running his fingers through his hair. "Even if this was a robbery gone wrong, the safe is small enough that it could have been taken."

"So who the hell took our guy, and why?" Dominic asked with a huff.

Amara shook her head, crossing her arms. Something wasn't right about all this. Their only other witness to the tragedy, missing? Especially when his file said he was just an average office worker? She just knew that it wasn't a coincidence that he had gone missing, likely kidnapped. 

Her shoulders tensed with the sudden feeling that she was being watched. She turned toward the partially open front door and raised a brow. A little girl was peeking at them through the opening. The kid's eyes were filled with worry, fear, and curiosity. Amara signaled the others before walking over and crouching near the door, keeping enough space between them so the girl wouldn't bolt. The guys fell silent behind her and moved away a bit to give Amara space.

"Do you need something, little one?" she asked in a gentle voice. 

"Are you going to take away Mommy and Daddy like the dark-dressed guys did, Mr. Alex?" the kid asked in a meek tone.

"No, little one," Amara responded in a motherly tone. "We aren't here to take away your Mommy and Daddy. We're the good guys. Can you tell me a bit about the bad men that took away Mr. Alex?"

"Maybe bad men, but maybe Mr. Alex was bad?" she shuffled nervously, bouncing in place for a moment. "They were like the super-secret police people that protect the pe-si-dent in Mommy's movies!"

The little girl straightened up abruptly, her expression and stance turning as serious as the child could manage. She put one finger to her ear. Amara heard the men let out little strained noises like they were struggling not to laugh.

"'Target neu-ta-lized!'" The girl said in a way that caused Chris to let out an open chortle of amusement. Leon let out a soft groan and let out a muttered 'don't start with me, Chris' that almost made Amara lose it. "'Meet at Al-pa site.' That's what they said. Only bad guys get taken by the super-secret-special-police, right? Mommy's movies always have the good guys take away the bad guys all quiet like so people don't wake up. But I was up because I wanted cookies an-oh! Don't tell Mommy I got in the cookie jar! I won't get dessert if she finds out!"

Those earnest eyes looked up at Amara, guileless and innocent and begging. Ah, to be so innocent again. She chuckled and held a finger up to her lips. 

"Don't worry," she said in a whisper. "Your secret's safe with me."

"You shouldn't always believe what happens in the movies. Bad people will do the same thing to make sure the good guys don't find the people they take," Piers chimed in gently.

"But Mr. Alex is boring ," the girl said with a small pout. "Why would the bad guys take him ? The story would be more fun if he was the bad guy all along… 'specially if he had a hidden gun! An' stolen jewelry!"

She glanced behind Amara toward Leon and the others, eyes wide and eager… and her words made Amara realize that they'd had their little wannabe spy watching them for longer than she'd thought. Leon held up the six-shooter, sans cylinder. 

"Sorry, kiddo," he said, stifling a laugh. "This hadn't seen action since before Mr. Alex was born. And the necklace was his mom's."

"Oh…" the girl visibly deflated. "That's boring ."

"It is, isn't it? Now, little one," Amara said, biting her lip to contain a laugh. "Shouldn't you be heading home? I am sure your mama and papa are wondering where you are."

"Silly, home's right there," the girl said, pointing at the door across the hall from Alex's apartment. "Daddy is at work, and Mommy went to get groceries from the store down the street. I'm ten now, an' I convinced Mommy to let me stay home 'cause I'm a big girl!"

"That you are," Leon said, walking over to crouch next to Amara. "Before you go, though, can you tell us what the men looked like? Beyond looking all official and president-protecting? Hair color? Eye color? Were they a light build like me, or bulky like the blockheads back there?"

"Heh!" the girl giggled and shook her head. "You're silly too! Um… they were all big, like them. There were three of them. And one was dark. Like him. But they were all wearing sunglasses like Mommy's movies, so you couldn't see their eyes or nothin'."

"Sunglasses? In the middle of the night? Strange," Amara started with a frown. She flashed the girl a small smile. "What's your name, little one?"

"Isabella," the girl said cheerfully. She froze for a moment and glanced toward the stairs. "Uh oh. That's Mommy. Her heels are loud . I gotta go!"

With that being said, the girl darted back into her apartment and closed the door. There was a soft click and the sound of rapid little footsteps darting about as if cleaning up a mess. A moment later, Amara could hear the clacking of heels on the stairs. She stood and pushed the door to Wickers' apartment closed. Leon let out a huff and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Sunglasses. In the middle of what sounds like a late-night raid?" Leon said with a shake of his head. "Sounds like they wanted to keep people from asking questions."

"If you look the part…" Chris said with a shrug. 

"Yeah," Leon said and growled. "But why take him? What the Hell was the point?"

"I got the blood sample," Piers said, holding up an evidence bag. "We can see if he was lucky enough to hurt the guys who grabbed him?"

Amara glanced back at the door with a small frown. They hadn't learned all that much, really, but... She hummed softly, recalling one of the BSAA veterans talking about a man Chris despised with a passion. A man that had long been considered partially responsible for the events of Raccoon City and the Arklay Mansion incident. 

"Captain..." Amara began, turning to look at Chris with a frown. "Do you think Albert Wesker could be involved? He was confirmed to be alive a few years back..."

Chris' expression immediately darkened, and he looked around the room. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Wesker. Maybe. But he's been weirdly quiet, and the higher-ups have shot down my requests to chase him down and bring him in. Honestly, I wouldn't put this entire mess past the remnants of Umbrella in general," he said in a stiff tone. "Mutated BOWs going out of control? Dozens dead? Has all the hallmarks of being potentially tied to them. But everything has also been oddly contained, especially in a city this size."

"Umbrella does tend to keep their experiments to cities that can be more easily contained. Racoon City was fairly distant from the nearby cities," Leon offered, tapping at his chin. "Big attacks like this are usually caused by outliers. People who have bought BOWs on the black market or have been experimenting themselves with BOWs."

" Any corporation like that might be interested in Alex as a survivor, especially since the only other two who survived was the singer, Melissa," Chris glanced over at Amara and nodded his head, "and yourself. Hence why we're keeping to a 'don't split the party' mindset right now."

"Wesker might be involved," Piers pipped up. "But Leon, didn't you say he turned his back on Umbrella? I mean, Umbrella's gone under… hasn’t it? And he helped? Isn't that why the big-wigs are refusing the Captain's requests?"

"Umbrella lost the legal battle," Leon said. "But that doesn't mean its people gave up the war, so to speak. And yeah, Wesker was recently confirmed as the one who leaked some of Umbrella's plans."

"Bastard is used to playing on his own team," Chris growled under his breath. "I don't trust it, but again, there are several black market corporations that could be involved in this mess... Fuck. Now what?"

"Dominic?" Amara started, looking over at her friend with a frown as something else hit her. "Didn't your sister say that Officer Aya Brea was at the Hall too?" 

"Yup," Dominic said with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest. Chris went beet red, and Leon rolled his eyes.

"But she's still accounted for?" Amara pressed.

"Wait, Officer Brea?" Chris asked with a blink.

"Really, Chris, you forgot about the other survivor?" Leon asked in a low tone.

"Yeah, sorry," Chris muttered. "Wesker kinda gets me hot under the collar, so… yeah."

"Idiot," Leon said in a fond tone.

"At any rate," Dominic said over the two senior officers. "What are you thinking, Amara?"

"This... honestly, this whole thing stinks of something big," Amara said with a frown. "Sure, this could be because of the remnants of Umbrella. Or it could be one of their competitors. Or it could be Wesker, even if he has been behaving, as Chris said, weirdly since he reappeared. Regardless, I really don't think any of them would be after Officer Brea or myself. Mainly because it would be more noticeable if either of us went missing, being officers and all."

The group fell silent and looked at each other. 

"Not only that," Amara pressed, "but the two of us are combat trained, so we wouldn't be easy targets like Wickers."

Leon shook his head at the others and moved over to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. He leaned forward to gently rest his forehead against Amara's.

"Give me a second to get this out, okay?" he asked in a low voice. 

Amara nodded, frowning in concern and confusion.

"Okay," he took a slow breath and let it out in a sigh. "These kinds of corporations don't care if a target is considered high or low profile. Someone like Mr. Wickers makes their efforts easier, yes, but that does not mean that you or Ms. Brea are not at risk of being kidnapped. If Wesker himself suddenly showed up in front of you, I'd expect you to run . Am I understood? And that's if he's even involved. We have no evidence for or against his involvement right now, so we will take every precaution necessary going forward. Okay?"

Amara frowned and looked down at the ground. A miasma of negative thoughts pulsed through her head, filling her with a growing sense of inadequacy. She mentally shoved the thoughts away. Letting those emotions taint the situation at hand would be detrimental. She... no. 

Let it go. 

"Understood," she responded, voice soft.

Leon's expression again shifted to one of concern, and he looked over at Chris, nodding his head to the side. Chris dragged the other two men into the side kitchen, giving the pair some solitude.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked. "You've got good instincts about things a lot of the time. Chris has praised your efforts often enough. But you've been a bit on edge lately. Especially over us making sure the team explores every avenue to solve a case. To make sure we have the evidence we need. Dot the 'i's and all, for the paperwork at least."

She glanced down at the ground and shrugged. Leon tapped her chin lightly, and she lifted her gaze to his. 

"Chris has mentioned that something has been off," Leon began in a soothing tone. "The last couple of missions have left you acting oddly, yeah? You get withdrawn, almost angry, from what Chris said. Was it because of those idiot jarheads on the other team that you and Dominic have been paired with? Did they do something?"

Amara glanced away again, trying to think of something else she could talk about. She let out a sigh and looked back at Leon. No, it was better to go over things honestly... Right?

"I mean, they were... They always ignored me. Going off even when I found evidence otherwise or had a hunch that one of the others was wrong about something ... And when I was proven right, I just got ignored," Amara took a deep breath to steady herself and let it out in a heavy sigh. "Only Dominic really had my back. And they'd give him shit behind his back too… I mean, I didn't care what they did to me, but when it came to Dominic... I took the brunt of it. I accepted what they told me… What they did to me… As long as Dominic was okay, I didn't care." 

"And what did they do to you? To Dominic?" Leon said in a carefully controlled, dangerous tone that made her flinch and shiver. His hands rubbed soothingly over her shoulders. 

"They have a habit of separating me from Dominic on missions," Amara continued a moment later, struggling to keep her tone even. Her brain demanded that she not show weakness to this man in front of her. Her heart, however... She wanted to trust him. She really wanted to be able to trust someone . "They'd make jokes about how he was nice out of pity to 'the witch.' And when situations turned life-threatening despite my warnings? I got berated by them. Blamed for not speaking up sooner."

She trembled, hands closing into fists. 

"But I did," she said, her voice going almost vicious for a moment. "I did warn them, Leon. I still have the cam footage. Gods. There were so many times I was left to die… Left to rot with only Dominic and Tanya to remember me fondly. Despite being shot by our enemies or tossed around by the BOWs… Beaten… I somehow survived their stupidity all this time. I survived long enough for the cycle to continue. Again and again… Never ending… I…"

Amara winced and rubbed at her forehead, barely noticing that Leon was rubbing her arms soothingly. She felt like she was bouncing back and forth between the urge to cry... and the unhealthy urge to set something, someone , on fire. It hurt. A dark fog pricked at the back of her mind. Memories of her childhood, her adoptive parents, as well as her ex were clamoring for attention in the back of her mind, mixing with the memories of all the missions that had gone wrong ...

She took a calming breath and shook her head. She did not want Chris or Leon to find out about her youth. 

"What they threatened to do to Dominic was worse," she continued in a low tone. "And he still got separated from the group almost as much as I did. He almost died during the mission in Africa, and they joked that 'at least he'd die in his native country!'. 'Token black guy,' 'monster bait,' 'monkey.' Leon… that was the mild shit they said about him when he wasn't around. I-I have recordings! I'm not lying! I'm not- "

"Shhh," Leon said, pulling her into a tight hug. "Shh, shh, shhh. I believe you. I believe you . Shit. Amara, why haven't you gone to Chris with this? You know he wouldn't stand for shit like this."

Amara clenched her eyes shut, trying with all her might not to let the memories take over. Trying to fight back the tears. Just hearing him say that made her heart clench.

"I was going to, but they found out about one of my tapes... They threatened to kill Dominic, and... Leon, he’s all I really have… Especially after Tanya started getting lost in her own desire for vengeance because of what happened to our home. Our friends,” Amara shook her head desperately, clinging to his body armor. “They threatened him… So I… I said nothing. Continued to deal with the Hell they dished out. I had to… I had no other choice. I still have the tapes, but what good will they do if Dominic or Tanya die because I said the wrong thing…?"

“Shit,” Leon swore, pulling back and pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned in close as if just offering comfort and murmured into her ear. “I’m on loan to Chris’ team right now. Send me the footage and audio you have. I can bury these assholes without them even realizing it was your footage. I just need to cross-reference things. As far as they will be concerned, I’ll just be an outsider butting my head in where it doesn’t belong. These assholes are going to jail , Amara. I will ruin them. We don't stand for this kind of shit. Just get me the evidence I need to start building the case. Chris will back me up.”

Amara looked at him, surprised by his willingness to help. She was so used to her pleas being shut down and her cries for help silenced before they had a chance to go anywhere. There'd been one rough month where she'd been hounded and forcibly kept from going anywhere near Chris or Jill or any of the other higher-ups in the BSAA that she might have trusted and... She swallowed roughly.

"Really? You-you'll do that?" she asked with a note of fragile hope in her voice.

“Amara,” Leon pulled back from her with a blink and then drew her into a bone-crushing hug. A low growl actually rumbled in his chest. “Yes. I’ll make sure those fuckers are done for. Those pieces of shit are nothing compared to an agent who has the ear of the president . Get me the tapes, Amara, and they are gone . Chris knew something was wrong, but hadn't had enough to work with."

When he pulled back from her this time, she saw a vicious smirk on his lips. She’d heard plenty of good things about Leon from Chris, Dominic, and Piers… but this? Oof. Looked like Agent Leon had a temper when people he cared about were targeted by assholes. Amara could feel a blush warming her cheeks, and she ducked her head. They were on a case, dammit! There was no time for inappropriate thoughts!

Still, the thought that Dominic might be safe was a relief, and she felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders. 

"Thank you," she murmured softly. "Thank you for listening..."

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, giving her forehead a kiss. “Now, let’s finish gathering what evidence we can. Remember, stay close, alright?”

"Alright," she said in a soft voice, giving him a hug. "I'll stay close. I get what you meant earlier. Sorry."

"Forgiven," Leon said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He stepped away and moved toward the others. "Piers? Dominic? We find anything else?”

“No sir,” Piers said, head popping out of the kitchen as he held up a box of half-eaten Chinese. “Unless you count this as something. Looks like he may have been a regular of this place, given the number of empty boxes in the trash. Want us to check and see when he placed his last order? May give us a bit of a better time frame for when he was taken.”

“Kid's account makes me think it was the middle of the night or early this morning. Likely just after he got home,” Chris said thoughtfully, shooting Amara a reassuring smile as she followed Leon into the kitchen. “We can check the apartment for camera footage.”

“Probably going to be a dead-end,” Dominic said with a grimace. “Especially if these ‘suits’ were smart enough to disable shit.”

“We still need to check ,” Leon said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“Dude, you spend too much time around paperwork,” Piers complained good-naturedly at Leon. 

“And part of that is why I am working with the President, and you aren’t,” Leon fired back with a grin. Leon moved over to Dominic and gave his arm a nudge. “Heard you had a rough time of it during that mess in Africa.”

"Ah? Um... yeah," Dominic ran a hand over his face and let out a bitter laugh. "Don't get my ass started on that damn mission… fucking fubar."

Amara moved over to him and gave his arm a nudge with her elbow. Dominic glanced down at her with a weak smile and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.

"Don't go looking like that, homegirl," he said with a chuckle. "I still made it home. An' both of my little sisters are still a pain in the ass."

"Jerk," Amara responded with a playful glare, punching him lightly in the side. "You're the one who's a pain in the ass."

"What happened in Africa? I heard that mission went south fast, right?" Piers asked curiously, unaware of what all had transpired as he'd been stationed elsewhere at the time.

Chris shifted to lean against the kitchen counter, his expression serious. Dominic looked over at him and winced. Amara and Dominic had both needed to redact quite a bit from their report to keep each other safe from their teammates. Leon moved to rest against the kitchen wall, crossing his arms. 

"Consider this a formal request for an undercover investigation," Leon said in a firm tone to Dominic. 

"Yeah... Shit, okay," Dominic's expression darkened, and Amara wrapped a comforting arm around her friend's waist. "And yeah, the mission went to Hell in a handbasket pretty quick. Supposed to be a surveillance op. Amara and I were split between the group once we hit the ground. Amara's group as backup, with mine going on ahead. The local village was marked by our on-site informants as being a potential testing ground for a BOW."

He paused, taking a calming breath. The rest of them remained silent and gave him a second to collect himself. 

"When we arrived, we noticed that the locals looked to have cleared out of the area,” he continued after a moment. “We originally kept our distance... but our team leader decided it was okay to go search the place directly. When he radioed it in, I remember hearing Amara telling them it was more than likely a trap in the background. And just like fucking always, she was ignored… ."

"And... what happened when you guys got in there?" Piers asked hesitantly. 

“Just like what Amara had guessed,” Dominic responded with a bitter scoff, “we walked into a fucking trap. Lil sis here has some damned good instincts. As soon as we got to the city's center, the locals managed to catch us a fucking makeshift series of gates pulled up by rope and chains. What fucking pissed me off was that the other three managed to get over the gates before they fucking unleashed a lion . An infected lion. They left me there alone to fight it and ran off!"

"I heard what was happening over the radio," Amara said in a soft voice. "The other team wasn't going to do anything. I disobeyed orders, took the Jeep, and headed for the village..."

"The lion had me pinned to the ground," Dominic said, clenching his eyes shut and ducking his head with a shudder. "Had its teeth in my arm, clawing at my chest... Thought that was it. That I was going to die."

"I got there and saw the lion on top of him. The other part of his group had already bolted," Amara said through gritted teeth. "I charged the makeshift gates and shot the lion, got it to release Dominic. It attacked me, and I managed to put it down with my flames. When I got to Dominic, I thought he was dead-"

“I'm still here thanks to you,” Danial said, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze. “Spent a few weeks in the hospital. Getting decontaminated, and my wounds were looked at. Lucky as Hell that the virus didn’t take. And instead of praise for taking down the lot - for what we fucking survived - Amara, got railed for disobeying orders. Chris, you remember that.”

“Yeah,” Chris said with a grimace and a shake of his head. “I couldn’t do anything to help because everyone was being tight-lipped.”

“You’re a good Captain, Chris, but some of those fuckers above you,” Dominic shook his head and looked off to the side with a growl. “And then I got chewed out for fucking supposedly leaving my team behind in dangerous territory. They left me !" 

“Cam footage?” Leon asked in a controlled tone. 

“No good,” Dominic said with a shake of his head. “My cam was destroyed by the lion. The others had turned theirs off. Excuse me… ‘their cameras malfunctioned, and any footage that might have been obtained was lost.’”

“Bullshit,” Chris said, his voice a low growl. “How many times has this happened? I knew there was some flack here and there, not everyone gets along, but that kind of bullshit is something I don't tolerate. I've had numerous reports of faulty equipment submitted at this point. Even the TriCell reps noticed and submitted a report up to me. How many 'malfunctions' have been hazing and attempts on your lives? I need answers this time. From both of you. Not silence.”

"Too damn many. The Africa mission has been my worst fucking mission since joining the BSAA. With all due respect Captain Redfield, ever since I joined, I've been dealing with this. It only got worse when I befriended Amara. Not that it was her fault," Dominic said reassuringly, giving Amara another comforting squeeze to the shoulder before continuing. "At this point, I’ve gotten so used to no one fucking believing me without any proof. So I just stopped bothering with it, at least for myself. When it came to Amara, I did all I could, but it proved pointless when no one bothered to listen or wait for me to get evidence for this clusterfuck of a mess…."

“Previous job the same way, I take it?” Leon asked in a gentler tone. 

Most companies liked to spout about inclusivity and good morals, but a shit ton of them were just pandering to the public to save face. They all knew it. Racism and sexism were a monster worse than any BOW…

"Yeah," Dominic spat out angrily, rolling his shoulders. "No fucking different from my unit when I was in the army. Same bullshit, different day." 

“I’ll need a formal statement later,” Leon said in a firm tone. 

“Uh, Leon, I uh... I thought you were here to just help us with the current BOW incident?” Piers piped up with a confused look. "I mean, good that we're catching this, finally, but...?"

“Now, who told you that I was just here for that, hm?” Leon responded with a vicious grin, and Amara knew that he would be playing the ‘investigation from on high’ card as much as possible. 

Amara shivered at the look in his eyes. Knowing that was pointed at the ongoing threat that had been targeting her and Dominic was... no. She shook her head and leaned into her friend's side. Dominic gave her a one-armed hug as he looked at Leon, raising an eyebrow at the other man. 

"Whatever you say, Agent Kennedy," Dominic said. But there was a cold smirk on his face. 

The look of someone who felt the hope of obtaining righteous vindication...

Chapter Text

  *Lorraine POV*

I woke up later in my bed feeling sore in all the right places and tucked against the side of a warm, male body. For a moment, I thought that everything from last night had been a dream. A weird, semi-enjoyable dream, but a dream nonetheless. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the male next to me, expecting the scent of my husband and the lingering scent of our pet ferrets… and stiffened warily. 

The male next to me did not smell like my husband. My husband didn't smell like gun oil and... something else. Something equally musky and sweet. Sandalwood? No... not quite. The hand on my back remained still despite my sudden tension. The breathing stayed even. Good. I didn't wake him. I tried to put together the slightly hazy bits from the night before and felt the heat spread over my cheeks. 

I'd had sex with Albert Wesker after he'd admitted to me that he'd injected both the Progenitor and T-virus in me. And that sex had been rough, wild, and repeated multiple times even after my silly joke about marriage and his very serious response. I shifted my legs together, a spike of heat filling me at the memory, and then frowned. Gods above, I should be feeling raw , not just sore. The viruses had to have done quite the number on Wesker to give him that kind of stamina. Had to have done a number on me to prevent me from being literally broken apart in the process. It was impressive.

And a little frightening in a way...

My frown deepened. Why... Why wasn't I more upset? I should still be feeling the urge to strangle his happy, conniving ass for infecting me like he had. I wasn't really upset about the sex. I knew why we'd gone out to the beach in the first place. He'd been right about that. He'd even given me three chances to say 'no' even after dropping that damned bombshell on me. Which I appreciated. But... ugh. I wished he'd consulted me first before fucking altering my very genetics with the damned viruses!

I shook my head faintly in annoyance, and the movement turned into a nuzzling one as his scent hit me for a second time. Something deep inside my chest rumbled out a satisfied hum of 'mine' that calmed my thoughts and soothed away my irritation. Odd. So very odd. 

Wait, I blinked as a thought hit me and frowned. How did we get back to my place again...?

Waking up from alcohol and sex-induced slumber often left my memories scattered for a few minutes, so it took another moment for me to remember the ‘what happened after having wild, primal sex' part of the night. Wesker had been rough enough that every single piece of clothing that I'd been wearing was left shredded and torn. I'd had nothing to wear and had walked into town for my little night out. Not only that but the three drinks that I'd had finally hit my system after the adrenaline rush wore off. He'd been enough of a gentleman that he'd wrapped his heavy coat around me to hide my nude state and had escorted me home. 

Actually, now that I thought about it, I'd started stumbling a bit as we walked and had almost fallen over in exhaustion. Wesker had to carry me part of the way back, and I'd gotten giggly on him . Ugh! I felt my cheeks heat up at the memory and ducked my head a little. 

My place was a nice, two-bedroom, one-bath home tucked into the forest near Wesker's labs. Perfect for a single person. I'd murmured contentedly against Wesker's chest as he carried me home, drunkenly explaining why I'd bought myself my own cabin in the woods… Mainly because I loved horror movies. Yeah, they scared the shit out of me sometimes, jumpscares sucked, but I loved them too. I vaguely recalled getting a chuckle out of him as I drunkenly explained the plot of 'Cabin in the Woods' to him. It was a comedy horror movie so full of cliches and so aware of itself that it was perfect in its stupidity. 

Oh, gods, I thought to myself, containing the urge to facepalm as I didn't want to wake him. Really Lorraine? Did you really do that? Ugh!

The good news was that I was a semi-coherent drunk. Even if I found myself unable to walk, I could still bloody well put sentences together in the proper order. Even if I rambled drunkenly, it still made sense . And I disliked that I occasionally rambled. It was one of the reasons I usually avoided drinking, but… Well, last night was rough. I’d needed the release of tension. On multiple levels apparently.

At least he'd been engaged enough to ask questions, even if the movie hadn't been released here yet. That he'd been engaged enough to hold a conversation about it was… nice? Yeah, it was embarrassing as Hel, but it was also weirdly... charming, I guess? Courteous, at the very least. 

I shifted and tugged the blanket back up over my shoulder. I found that I wasn't all that surprised that Wesker had tucked me into bed. Frightening presence aside, he was a gentleman. No, the shock was that he had bloody well stayed over for the night. I was fairly certain we hadn't had sex again after we got to my place. Nor did I recall offering to let him spend the night. I might have. Maybe. Did I? He... 

The hand at my back shifted suddenly, bare fingertips trailing slowly and soothingly along my spine in a way that made me shiver and arch into his touch. I'd always been a sensual person, and that hit all the right buttons. A low groan escaped my lips as the touch continued up to tease over my shoulders.

"You're thinking too hard again, my Lorraine," Wesker purred in a low voice that was husky with sleep. "Having regrets?"

"Regrets?" I shook my head and settled in a little more firmly against his left side. Long, deft fingers trailed back down along my spine, coaxing another pleased shiver from me. Gods, that felt good... "No. Just... lost in memory is all. It's been a while since I've woken up next to someone."

"I see," he said. He let out a thoughtful hum of noise after a moment of silence. "You've not bedded anyone since arriving here, have you?"

"You'd have seen if I had," I said with a soft, huffing laugh as I waved a hand around to indicate whatever cameras he had hidden about.

"There are plenty of times where you could have engaged in such activities outside of your home, my Lorraine," he countered with a scoff. "I may have been monitoring your activities to a certain extent, but you have had the freedom to choose a partner before now, even if only that of a temporary arrangement for a night..."

"That may be true," I began with a huff of my own, amused by his way of saying 'one-night stand.' I poked his side lightly, tentatively. He grumbled and grabbed my hand to pin it in place. "But no. My sex life was nonexistent until last night. No guys or gals that I've hooked up with even for a one-night stand."

"I see," he said, falling silent for a long moment. 

I had just started to open my mouth to ask him what was wrong when I found myself abruptly pinned beneath his heavy form. His hands closed around my wrists, pinning them above my head. A tiny, startled meep escaped me as he squeezed my wrists, and I looked up at him with wide eyes. Those dragon's eyes roved hungrily over my form before meeting my confused gaze. 

"You are mine now, Lorraine," he said, his voice a husky, dangerous purr of sound that sent an eager shiver down my spine. I squirmed beneath him, thighs pressing firmly together. "No man or woman is allowed to lay eyes upon you like this."

"I already agreed with you last night," I said with a small frown. He leaned forward and gently bit my lower lip, giving it a small tug that made me whimper before letting go.

"You did," he purred, sounding satisfied. He let go of my wrists, bracing himself on one hand and trailing the fingers of the other lightly over my cheek and down over my neck. I shivered and leaned into the touch. "Let go of the past as well, my Lorraine. I will not have you lingering on the memories of a ghost. You are mine now. Not his ."

"I…" I let out a sigh and reached out to catch his wrist in my hand, squeezing gently. "I won't be able to help but linger on pleasant memories every now and then, Wesker. That's just a part of human nature. You think of Birkin every so often despite him being gone, do you not? Him and Annette?"

"Hm," he tilted his head and nodded, almost begrudgingly so. "Perhaps. But I was not in a relationship with either Birkin, now was I? I will not be compared to a dead man."

"Nothing to compare," I said with a bemused huff. 

Not entirely true, that, but close enough to pass under his ‘lie’ radar. I seemed to have a thing for six-foot-plus functional sociopaths. And yes, my husband had been diagnosed as a low-level one. It was, had been, difficult for him to form emotional bonds, but the ones he'd forged were life-long and valued as rare treasures. Just because someone’s capacity to feel emotion was stunted didn’t mean that emotions couldn’t be felt at all. It just meant that when they did feel an emotion, it was more intense and could often be confused with other, sometimes darker, emotions. 

The decade I'd had with my husband had given me the tools that I'd needed to read Wesker's moods over the years. Even if our relationship had been purely professional until the night before. Knowing how to read someone whose emotions were tracked not in open expressions but tiny micro-expressions and subtle changes in tone of voice had helped me track the blonde's mental state better. Most of the time, anyway. 

Like now, for example...

"You are two separate individuals. I couldn't confuse the two of you even if I tried," I continued, reaching up to touch his cheek with my fingertips. Assure. Affirm. Acknowledge. And most importantly, use your words clearly and concisely. "Things may have started with a… confrontation … last night, but… Ugh."

I paused for a moment as I thought of how to properly word things. I wanted to avoid any misunderstandings, regardless of how long this, whatever this was , between us, lasted. 

"Let me put it this way," I continued after a moment spent rubbing my thumb over his cheek. The faintest hint of stubble teased against the pad of my thumb. "I may be a bisexual disaster and may even look and think 'damn, that person's hot' sometimes, but if I've actually bedded someone, then I'm loyal to that person. You came to me last night for a purpose and I knew that, even if I didn’t understand it all until you explained it. I was curious and decided to go along with things. See how it all played out. I won’t willingly lay with anyone else unless there's been a long discussion about polyamory and the expectations therein. And even then, I probably wouldn't act even after such a talk."

"Oh?" he raised a brow at me, lips twitching slightly with amusement despite the serious look in his eyes. It was probably the 'bisexual disaster' part that had amused him. Honestly, it amused most folks. "And your former husband was aware of this mindset of yours?"

"Yeah," I said with a sad chuckle, still rubbing his cheek. "He knew that I liked women as much as men. Even gave me a blatant okay to seek out a female partner if I ever wanted to. He was fine with it as long as I told him about it and let him know if 'feelings' developed and, you know, maybe record things for him. But the most that ever happened was us people-watching while sharing coffee and joking around about how hot this guy or that gal passing by was. Most of the women I'd been halfway interested in were married anyway, and I wasn't going to be a homewrecker."

"That was … surprisingly open of him," Wesker said thoughtfully, fingers trailing down to tease gently over my neck. 

"It was," I said, tapping my thumb against his cheek lightly. "But you're not him. You don't want to share. Period. End of story. Correct?"

"Correct," he said as his pupils narrowed. He growled low in his throat. "I do not care if you look , but you are mine now."

"Then things stay firmly in the 'look but don't touch' category when it comes to others," I said in a gentle, soothing voice. I shrugged my shoulders and continued to rub my thumb over Wesker's cheek, quietly relishing the chance to touch him. Enjoying the faint feel of a growing five o-clock shadow that would be shaved away before work that morning. Even this was different between them. Mikael had hated having his face touched for long periods of time. "I don't sleep around on my partners. This is 'us' now. Whatever that ends up meaning given the virus..."

"Good," he leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine in a lingering, mind-melting kiss that left me breathless. 

I eagerly returned the kiss, hands moving to tangle in his blonde hair. Wesker shifted his legs, knee nudging against my own, and I spread for him readily. His form settled over the line of my own. A pleased hum escaped me, and I arched into the feel of his lean-muscled form. His hands glided down my sides, coaxing a deeper, needy moan from my throat...

And then his fucking phone went off.

Wesker pulled back and let out a dark laugh at the angry glare I shot toward the pile of clothes folded oh so neatly on my dresser. He rolled off the bed, lithe as any feline, and sauntered over to answer it. I found my gaze trailing over the line of his backside. Muscled, toned, and damn did he have a fine ass. He shifted almost imperceptibly as he spoke, his voice a hushed murmur, and placed one hand on his hip. I glanced up and found his reflected eyes meeting my own in the mirror above the dresser. He smirked.

Oops. Caught staring. I grinned shyly at him, and he chuckled as he ended his call. 

"My assistance is needed back at the labs," he said, casually and methodically getting dressed. 

Black briefs, black socks, leather pants, and leather boots. The black silk shirt, missing a few buttons, and the armored close-to-the-skin kevlar jacket to go over it. Then the leather gloves, and lastly, Wesker's long leather coat. Black on black on black on black. He was a sexy man, and he knew it. Given the leisurely way he was getting dressed, he was showing off. The look he gave me as he turned around and stalked to the bed where I was watching was filled with a contained heat.

"I expect you to be at the office on time," he said, his tone dry but firm.

"Darn, and here I was hoping for a lazy day in," I quipped, pushing myself up to meet him as he leaned down for a kiss. 

His fingers teased over one breast, and he abruptly pinched the nipple. I pulled back with a hiss, reflexively swatting at his hand. It didn't hurt, per se, but it wasn't comfortable by any means. He held on for a second longer, prompting another swat from me. He chuckled darkly before finally letting go. 

"On time, my Lorraine," he stressed with a smirk. He moved toward the door with a chuckle. Damned sadist.

"Um, Wesker?" I began hesitantly. He paused in the doorway, head half-turned toward me. "Did... I mean, do you want me to call you Albert now…? Or do you prefer your last name? Or even something else?"

"Why does it matter?" he asked, sounding amused. His head tilted to the side just a hair.

"Names are important," I responded with a shrug. "It's why I've gone by my middle name since arriving here. The old me is gone, after all. So I... I want to respect your preferences, essentially. What's comfortable for you."

"I see. Such an interesting mind you have," Wesker said with an almost softer smirk, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment of my words. "In public, and when not on the job, yes, call me Albert. But I do prefer 'Wesker' when we are alone, my Lorraine. It is what I am used to being called after all this time. And while I may not care much for the name I was given, you are right. It is comfortable being called such."

With that being said, he turned and left the room. I fell back on the bed with a sigh, covering my eyes with my hands. After a moment, I raised my hand and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Two hours before I was to be expected at the office. I squirmed back under the covers, cocooning myself in the lingering warmth and heat where Wesker had been. I inhaled his scent, that sense of 'mine' thrumming in the back of my head again as I closed my eyes. Another hour of rest would be wonderful after such a vigorous night.

But my stomach chose that moment to make it known that it wanted food. Ugh...

I tried to fight for that little bit of extra sleep, but my stomach was complaining far too much for me to ignore. Yawning, I made my way to the kitchen and popped a ramen into the microwave. About fifteen minutes later, I'd polished the ramen off and was still hungry. Grumbling to myself, I popped another one in the microwave and went to make some coffee. I opened the cabinet above the stove and frowned. 

Where the Hel were my last two white mocha Keurig cups? Not only that, but where was the last of the sugar?! 

I stared at the empty spot in the cabinet for a long moment before letting out a frustrated little growl. A quick glance in the other cabinet showed that one of my favorite coffee mugs, a dark navy blue one that had one of those 'revealed when heated' patterns, was missing as well. I briefly wondered if he'd picked that one on purpose, given that the revealed pattern was one of fresh bloodstains, or if he'd had a brief moment of bemused surprise at the change.

"What the Hel, Wesker?!" I shouted at the ceiling, shaking myself out of my surprised stupor and knowing that he'd hear me if he was paying attention to his surveillance bugs. "You owe me a coffee, dammit! And you'd better return the mug!"

Chapter Text

Amara had handed the keys to the Jeep over to Chris after they finished checking with the apartment complex owners about any video of the halls. No dice, sadly. All of the feeds were missing about twenty-four hours' worth of footage. They were left checking into Wickers' last known whereabouts before and after the incident at Carnegie Hall. 

Leon and Dominic had gone inside the Chinese restaurant Wickers frequented while Amara waited in the back of the Jeep with Piers and Chris standing outside the Jeep chatting. Amara rubbed at the back of her neck, tension singing through her body. Everything ached. Her thoughts looped in on themselves. Honestly, she just felt more worn out than she had for a while, and it wasn't just because of the baggage that had been brought up during the heavy talk with Leon. It was like a fog was settling in on her thoughts, muddying them and leaving her feeling just... off and... and...

Cold.

Although the car's interior was warm, she felt cold .

  So very cold . Amara rubbed her hands together and blew on them, a shiver coursing through her entire body. The fog grew heavier in her mind, darker memories of her ex rising up. When she glanced out the window of the car, intent on trying to distract herself with a calming exercise, she saw frost spreading over the glass. Blinking in confusion, she reached out and touched the glass, noting that the ice was forming within the vehicle. 

What...? she thought, dazed by the sight.

"Amara? Amara!?" Piers’ voice calling out to her worriedly made her jolt and turn to look at where he was, kneeling on the backseat next to her with the other passenger door wide open behind him.

She blinked at him, opening her mouth and closing it. Her breathing picked up, throat closing over. A small wheeze escaped her, and Piers cursed when he noticed the signs of her having a panic attack. He had yet to notice that the ice was now spreading outwards away from her fingers where they were pressed against the window. He climbed further into the back seat, tugging her against him in a hug, hands rubbing over her arms. 

"C-cold..." Amara managed to get out through chattering teeth. "D-don't want... t-to be... c-cold..."

"It's okay," Piers said soothingly, hands moving to rub over her back as he tried to share his body heat. "I'm right here. We'll get you warmed up in no time."

"What's going on?" Chris asked worriedly from behind him, ducking down to stare worriedly at Amara's huddled form. "I know she gets intense hot flashes sometimes, but did she just complain about being cold?"

"Yes, sir," Piers answered, turning to look over his shoulder at Chris. He shivered against her, pulling her closer as the air chilled around them. "She despises the cold... and honestly, we don't know the full extent of her powers. She could be, I don't know, evolving after having interacted with Eve again?"

"Possible," Chris glanced over Amara and could see she was beginning to shiver even more. "Scooch over onto this side."

After issuing the order, he shut the open door and moved to the other side of the car. Piers moved over to make room for Chris as he climbed into the vehicle so that Amara was pressed between the two males. He reached into the back of the Jeep and grabbed the emergency blanket, pulling it out to wrap it around Amara and Piers both to help trap their combined body heat. Chris then leaned forward and turned the heat up to max before settling in against her left side. 

It took several minutes, but Amara could feel the heat from their bodies seeping into her, soothing away the chill that had overwhelmed her. She was still scared. Still cold. Still felt that sense of panic pulsing through her in time with her heartbeat. But... they were helping. And she appreciated it greatly.

Opening her eyes, she watched tiredly as Leon and Dominic exited the restaurant. Chris waved at them, prompting them both to fast-walk over to the Jeep. Leon popped open the back door, and Dominic poked his head over Leon's shoulder as the sandy-haired blonde reached out to touch Amara's cheek with a from. He pulled his hand back with a surprised hiss. 

"What the hell's going on?" Dominic asked worriedly. 

"Her body temperature was dropping alarmingly. We don't know why though,” Piers answered softly, looking back and forth between Leon and Dominic. “Captain and I are trying to warm her up. You know how she hates the cold, Dominic."

"Hates the cold? Why? Is it because of something similar to the Africa incident?” Leon asked as he wriggled his way into the back of the Jeep with all the stubbornness of a feline wanting to reach a particular spot. He managed to huddle up around her legs, helping to further warm up her extremities. "Amara, can you hear me?"

She nodded jerkily, teeth still chattering together but less so than they had been a few moments ago. Dominic closed the door behind Leon and then looped around to sit in the front passenger seat. Piers glanced down at Amara, and she shook her head faintly. He winced and tightened his grip a bit around her. 

"No… The reason she hates the cold is, um, more personal in nature,” he said in a low voice. “I won't explain why. I am sure Amara will open up about it in time. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to know... found out on accident..."

"I won't pry for now then, but we need to figure out what caused this," Leon said with a sigh and a shake of his head. He reached out to catch Amara's hands, trying to warm them between his own. 

“Amara,” Chris began after a few seconds, "do we need an ambulance?”

"Ngh... no," Amara winced and shook her head. She was warming up, but everything still felt foggy in her head. Distant. "Sorry... D-don't call an... D-don't want him... to find me..."

“Don’t want who to find you?” Chris asked in a gentle but confused tone, running his hand soothingly over her back. 

"No..." she winced again, vision spotting as another wave of cold hit her. Memories nipped at the back of her mind, and she shook her head. Piers tightened his grip around her shoulders, and Dominic reached out to press a comforting hand against her knee. "D-don't... don't want to... don't make me..."

"Easy, Lil sis," Dominic said in a soothing, protective tone. "Ain't no one here going to force you to talk if you don't want to. Easy. Breathe for me, yeah? Like your therapist taught ya."

Swallowing roughly, she nodded her head rapidly and tried to focus on taking slow, even breaths. In slowly, hold, out slowly. Again and again. Despite the fog and memories clamoring for her attention, the breathing exercise helped. The thoughts were still a heavy, oppressive weight at the back of her mind, but her vision was slowly clearing. 

Leon piped up from near her feet a few moments later, almost making her jump. 

“What do you think, Amara,” he began in a forcibly cheerful tone. “Cat or a dog?”

"I... what?" Amara blinked groggily down at him, drinking in the playful smirk on his face. "What do you mean, cat or d-dog...?"

"Really, Leon?" Chris asked his soft chuckle rumbling against her back. "Sorry, Amara. Leon and I can’t even agree on what to get. I suppose a tie-breaker would be nice.”

“Exactly,” Leon agreed with a laugh. “So, which would you get, Amara, a cat or dog?”

"I love d-dogs,” Amara smiled faintly at their banter, “but cats are cute too."

"Really? What kinds of dogs do you like?" Chris pressed, sounding eager and smug. Leon swatted his leg.

"She just said she likes, too," Leon scolded with a prim sniff. "Don't go jumping straight to the dogs, dude."

“She said they were cute ,” Chris countered with a playful nudge. “Not that she liked them.”

"Pitbulls," Amara said with a thready chuckle. "Rottweilers, D-dobermans, Huskies, and a lot more."

She was starting to feel a little warmer. The talking helped. Leon gave her leg a small squeeze, and she flashed him a thankful smile.  

“What about a good Savannah cat?” Leon asked, letting himself sound a little sad and disgruntled. He even pouted exaggeratedly up at her. “They can get as big as some dogs and be trained as a good guard animal too. Or maybe an Egyptian Mau?”

“Okay, I like Savannah cats. They're like feline dogs, but seriously,” Chris began, letting out a huff and shaking his head. “Nothing that I can punt through the window on accident!”

"As if you'd ever dare!" Leon countered with a huff of his own. "You'd never let that happen."

Dominic and Piers burst into soft snickers. A weak giggle spilled past Amara's lips, surprising her. The chill was starting to fade the longer they talked. She managed to sit up on her own, trying to be mindful of how they were squished together in the back of the Jeep. What a weird sight they probably made to anyone curious enough to glance inside. Still, it was winter. There was nothing wrong with cuddling up for warmth.

"My favorite cats are Siamese Cats, Bangel cats, ragdoll cats, and even mixed breeds, too," she said, running her tongue over her lips. Her teeth were no longer chattering. That was good. "Cats are sweet balls of fluff and claws..." 

“Why not just get both, Captain. Agent Kennedy. A dog and a cat?” Piers chimed in, amusement ringing through his voice. "Solve the problem right there. And if you get them young enough, they'll treat each other like siblings."

Before either male could respond, Dominic's phone went off. The ringtone was a blaring alert alarm followed by a voice saying, 'Alert, alert, your sister is calling,' Amara snickered softly, setting off the other three men as Dominic scrambled for his phone.

“What’s up, sis?” Dominic’s own smile vanished, his expression darkening as his sister spoke. “Alright. We are on our way. Tell him not to move from that spot.”

The rest of the group tensed as Dominic hung up the phone. 

“Hate to burst this bubble, but we gotta go, Captain," he said in a no-nonsense tone. "Officer Brea and her Partner Officer Dollis have left the NYPD and are heading to Central Park. Turns out, our missing singer has arranged for a surprise, free concert there for the public. Word of mouth and flyer only announcement..."

"Shit," Chris nudged Piers with his elbow. "Piers, drive us to the Park. Quickly. People are walking into a trap and don't even know it."

"On it, Captain," Piers said, quickly untangling himself so he could climb into the driver's seat.

Leon slipped up to take Piers' spot, keeping Amara in a warm cocoon. Dominic's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it as Piers pulled out onto the street.  

“My sister is going to meet us at the entrance closest to the zoo next to the Park,” he said, looking down at his phone with a frown. “She and Officer Dollis are still at the entrance trying to route people away from the area along with some other officers. Officer Brea went inside the park alone to scout things out. She doesn’t know anything more about the situation beyond that.”

As Piers drove, the last off the chill seemed to bleed from Amara's body. She pulled away from Chris, tugging off the blanket with a released sound. Chris' hand brushed her arm as she folded the blanket back up. 

"You doing better?" he asked in a low voice. "If you need to rest, tell me."

"I think I'll be okay," Amara responded in a low voice. "The worst of it has passed. I'm feeling toasty, and my head's cleared up."

"Any idea what triggered this... attack, I suppose?" he asked. 

"I think it might have been the talk earlier, but I'm not sure," she answered with a shake of her head. "I've had hot flashes before, and afterward, my fire powers got a little stronger, as you are aware. But I've never got cold like this ..."

"I don't think this was just a simple panic attack. There was frost on the inside of the Jeep," Leon said on her other side, and she nodded her head in agreement. 

"I don't know what's happening," she said, rubbing at her head. Chris gave her a one-armed hug.

"We'll figure it out," he said reassuringly. "For now, we'll treat this like we have with the hot flashes. Move carefully, keep hydrated, and if you need to back out of a mission for a bit, you tell us."

"Yes, sir," she said with a weak chuckle. 

Leon caught her hand in his own and gave it a small squeeze. She smiled at him and then looked forward as Piers pulled into a parking lot. Amara could see several officers blocking off the park and zoo entrances. Michelle, Dominic's sister, was easy to recognize, and she had two men standing nearby with her. 

Piers parked the Jeep, and they quickly exited the vehicle, checking or grabbing additional weapons just in case. As a unit, they made their way over to Michelle and the others. Amara abruptly found herself lingering behind the back of the group, shaking her head as a sudden wave of vertigo hit her. It was followed by an odd, pulling sensation. 

The feeling faded, and her vision cleared. She shook her head again and hurried after the others. 

“What’s the sitrep?” Chris was asking as she caught up, his gaze toward the large stage where people were gathered. 

Even from their spot, Amara could hear the people talking, laughing, and otherwise having a good time hanging out while waiting for the performance to start. She winced at the sight. They needed to get the people out of there, but a glance around showed they had next to no numbers to enforce a timely evac.

“Not good,” one of the officers, whose name tag read Officer Dollis, said. His expression was grim. Upset. “We’ve requested multiple times now to have the area evacuated, but the higher-ups still aren’t willing to call things off. I spoke with a few folks, and a lot of money was donated to the city to get this set up.”

“Their main argument is that no one is going to attack Christmas and that there was no concrete proof that the singer, Melissa, was the culprit behind the attack on the Hall,” Michelle said with an angry scoff. “But we all know that now is the perfect time for an attack and that she caused it. Amara here is our main witness, and we have some footage. Not great footage, mind, but footage enough. They're afraid they'll have to give the money back and are dragging their damned feet..."

“The mayor’s being a damned idiot,” the third officer said. Amara glanced at his name tag; Officer Harris. “I’ve seen the reports about the Opera house attack and the other shit you BSAA lot deal with. This isn’t the damned time to play dumb.”

“Tell me about it,” Leon said with a sigh and a shake of his head. “Fucking bureaucrats. Let me try to contact him. With me working directly for the President, I may be able to pull some strings and get that evac going.”

A crackling sound from the speakers near the stage cut off the conversation at the exact same time that Officer Dollis’ phone pinged. Amara’s attention focused on the officer as his face went pale. She was about to ask what was wrong when a woman began to speak. The cold words made her stiffen.

“The holiday season brings joy to us all….” Melissa, no Eve , said to the gathered crowd. “And this Christmas will be the most special of all. Special because I will no longer be under the control of a host , as I have been since the dawn of time. Humans… You Humans are weak . Pathetic. Mitochondria like myself can self evolve. Mitochondria... must now take over the nucleus.”

Screams of pain and fear suddenly filled the air. The people at the edges of the crowd let out startled shouts and began to flee the area. Amara noticed a man in military camo nearby shoving at the crowd, forcing the people frozen in fear to move . Chris and Leon started toward the crowd, Amara, Dominic, Piers, Michelle, Harris, and Dollis on their heels. The group got about fifteen, twenty feet into the crowd and fell back with pained yelps as their sleeves caught fire.

All except Amara, that is. 

She spun about worriedly, helping the others put out the flames and fall back. Dollis cursed and started forward a second time, only to fall back with another yelp as fire licked up his arms once more. Chris and Dominic grabbed the man by his arms, wrenching him back and out of range of Eve's abilities. Everyone else fell back as well, trying to direct the crowd. Amara noticed that the crowd was thinning for two reasons. One, most of the people at the edge of the crowd were fleeing. Two... those near the center of the crowd were melting . 

“Ben!” Dollis screamed as he struggled against the BSAA agent's hold. “ Ben ! Let me go! My son’s in there! Dammit, let me go! BEN !”

Hearing the officer's desperate shouting almost sent Amara running into the crowd. She turned on her heel and almost ran into another man in army fatigues darting toward them and the rest of the fleeing civilians. A kid was clinging to his side. The mocha-skinned man skidded to a stop, blisters visible on his arms as he set the equally injured but living kid on the ground. 

“NYPD, right?!" the man shouted at them. His uniform name tag read Thomas K. Barnes. "Do any of you have a medkit? Something for burns?! Kid needs help!”

“Ben!” Dollis wrenched his way free of the others and stumbled toward the kid, who immediately darted toward the older male with a wordless cry. "Oh, thank god!"

Leon cursed angrily, pulling out his cellphone and making a call. Piers darted for the Jeep to grab their emergency medkits. Chris turned toward the soldier.

"What is-?" Chris started, only to be cut off.

"No time!" Thomas shouted as he spun back around and darted back into the crowd. 

The army man darted toward a group of people who were slowly shuffling closer to the stage, literally slapping them upside the head and shoving them to get them moving the other way. The people he smacked shook their heads as if coming out of a daze before running out of the park and away from danger. Amara glanced around, noting there were other clumps of people walking forward in a daze. 

Knowing her own immunity, Amara darted forward to do the same. The solid smack to the head helped clear the glazed looks from people's eyes. Still, she couldn't save everyone. Once they got close enough to the stage, the people in the crowd would stop and shudder and... melt. A frustrated, helpless noise escaped Amara, and she turned to glare at the stage. Even at this distance, she could see the other woman. See her raised hands and that cold smirk. 

Amara started forward, drawing her gun as she rushed toward the stage. Her heart leaped into her throat when two figures appeared on each end of the stage. One male in military fatigues, one female in an NYPD uniform. Both were shouting at Eve, guns raised and their bodies angled so they wouldn't catch the other person in the crossfire. 

The man abruptly caught on fire, and he screamed, the sound amplified by the speakers on the stage. Orange-yellow flames brightened to a bright white-blue. The man's body was burned to ash an instant later. Eve's laughter, cold and cruel, echoed over the speakers as she fled the stage with the female officer in hot pursuit.

"Not that way," a child's voice called out to her, causing Amara to stumble as the noise around her dimmed. 

She stopped and looked around in confusion before her eyes fell on the girl that had appeared to her in the Hall. The girl pointed back toward the parking lot, at the Jeep. 

"You won't reach her in time going that way," the girl said her young voice earnest and pleading. 

Amara frowned at the girl, knowing she looked familiar somehow. Her blood was pounding in her ears. The girl disappeared, and there was the brief feeling of someone pushing her leg. 

"Go," the girl's voice whispered into her ear. "She'll need your help. Eve is too strong for her alone..."

A shudder ran through her form, and she holstered her gun, running for the Jeep. She barely heard the surprised shouts from the guys, opening the driver's seat and finding that Piers had left the keys in the ignition. She had the vehicle turned on and had backed out of the parking lot before anyone could stop her, somehow managing to instinctively avoid hitting anyone. 

Instinct drove her onwards. While she usually avoided speeding in crowded areas, her instincts as a driver, as someone who liked racing on clearly marked routes, prevented her from hitting anyone on the road. That odd pull and the girl whispering every so often in her ear led her to a bridge. An overturned carriage was lying on the ground, the burning body of a horse lying next to it. Eve was walking, floating rather, toward the carriage. 

Amara pulled over, parking the vehicle and jumping out, grabbing her rifle from the back of the Jeep. She could just make out the crumpled form of the female officer from earlier. 

“Get back, Eve!” Amara shouted as she skidded to a stop, pointing her gun at the mutated woman's head.

“Ah, hello again, Amara dear. It's so good to see you,” Eve said, turning to face Amara with a sickly smile painted across her pale features. “I’m afraid I have other things to take care of, so as much as I would like to finish playing with the good officer here, I'll be on my way. Hm, I hope you don’t mind playing with one of my friends?”

Before Amara could question what the woman meant by that, Eve flew off . Amara could only stare after the other woman in shock. How-?! A large splash filled the air, catching her attention. A large, twisted reptilian creature crawled onto the main road, using the bridge to yank itself upward. It let out a mighty roar, making her wince and cover her ears. It was shaped like a crocodile with blueish scales and had an elongated neck, which made her think of the Loch Ness monster. 

She didn’t have time to examine it further as it lunged for her, jaws wide. Amara hastily dodged out of the way of its snapping maw. Not taking any chances, she rolled to her feet and opened fire on the beast. It let out another roaring scream, spinning about faster than should have been possible to hit her with its tail. She was sent flying into the carriage where Officer Brea lay unconscious.

Groaning, Amara hurriedly struggled to her feet, glancing at the downed officer before looking back at the creature. The damned gator-like thing was big. It could likely crush Officer Brea in an instant.

Hoping to keep the woman safe, Amara darted past the beast and further down the bridge, shooting as she went to keep its attention on her. It darted after her, keeping her on her toes. More than once, she had to dodge its jaws, claws, and those damnably agile tail swipes. 

“Shit,” Amara cursed as she went to reload, finding that she was out of ammo for the rifle. 

She almost reached for her handgun and cursed again. The damned thing was a bullet sponge. She didn’t have the ammo necessary to take it down. What she did have, though, was 'firepower' of a different, more literal sort. 

"Probably should have started with this," she muttered, drawing on that inner power and flinging her hands toward the beast. 

Two large fireballs flew out to hit the thing in the face, causing a massive explosion. The beast roared in pain and anger. Instinct pulsed through her, a child's voice calling out a wordless warning in the back of her mind. Amara hurriedly rolled to the side to avoid being eaten in one bite. 

Unfortunately, it looked like her fire attacks weren’t doing much to affect the damned thing. That or it was one hell of a stubborn beast that felt no real pain. Amara tried to ready another attack, only to get hit by the thing's tail and knocked against the bridge railing. Groaning, she tried to push herself back to her feet, only to be pinned to the ground by a massive foot. 

Amara stared up at the beast as it roared, feeling cold inside. 

Is this it? she thought to herself. Am I going to die here? Like this?

The chill from earlier returned stronger than before... both within and without. Oddly enough, it wasn't accompanied by the earlier sense of depression or fear. This time it was just cold, icy determination. 

She refused to die here. Not like this...

Amara's breath fogged thicker in the air as the temperature around them dropped. Ice started to climb up the beast's leg. Her eyes widened. 

Was she doing that? 

Reaching for that feeling of chilly resolve, she focused and willed it to her hands like she did with the fire. Ice spread faster and faster up the creature's leg, forcing it to pull back with an agonized screech of sound. She lashed out, grabbing onto one claw and getting lifted into the air in the process, still willing the ice to engulf as much of the beast as possible. The beast twisted to throw her off, her hand being sliced open as she went flying, but the damage had been done. Even as it threw her off, its' limb could not support the sudden movement and snapped off. Amara hit the ground and rolled to her feet, her injured hand clutched to her chest. She darted forward before it could flee, slamming into its side and willing it to freeze. 

It struggled, and as it did so, it broke itself apart before finally going still. 

She stumbled back and collapsed onto her ass with a wince. Cuts and bruises littered her body, the ache spreading over her in a painful wave. The fog from earlier returned with a vengeance. Amara clutched at the side of her head with her good hand, dark memories vying for her attention. Hissing, she had to spend a few moments running through the mental exercises her therapist had taught her just to get enough will to push herself to her feet. The fog faded, and as it disappeared, she felt the worst of her wounds beginning to heal. 

Her head pounding, she stood and limped over to where Officer Brea lay on the ground, hidden beside the knocked-over carriage. She felt for the woman’s pulse and relaxed when she felt it beat steadily against her fingers. Alive. The officer was alive. Thank goodness. A quick once-over showed no major injuries either. 

Amara took a few moments to catch her breath and mustered up the strength to lift Aya up. Her shoulder burned with the added weight of the other woman, but Amara pressed on, stumbling her way toward the Jeep. A male voice made her start, and she almost dropped Officer Brea on the ground as she spun toward the source of the voice, hand falling to the butt of her gun. 

“W-wait!” a man with messy black hair called out in a thick Japanese accent. He was wearing a torn blue jacket over a white button-up shirt with a torn tie, a pair of normal jeans, and some tennis shoes. “Can we go with you…? Our ride…” 

Before Amara could replay, another voice chimed up, but this time female, irritated... and vaguely familiar. The woman was speaking in Japanese, so she didn't quite understand. She'd started learning the language a year ago and was decent with it, but the woman was speaking too fast. The male called something back down to the woman. Amara shifted to the side and saw the vehicle laying sideways along the road behind some trees. The carriage had blocked the view of the car... and had probably saved the pair's life.  

"Also, onii-san,” the woman continued in English in a scolding tone. “You know that’s not how you introduce yourself. Be polite.”

A younger woman moved onto the road, her long black hair pulled into two ponytails on either side of her head. She wore thin-rimmed glasses, unlike the thicker pair that the man was wearing. Her clothes were a simple dark-blue jacket two sizes too big for her thin frame. A pair of black winter leggings and flats completed the outfit. Amara frowned at her, still feeling a bit out of sorts, what with the blow from earlier still jarring her senses. Everything snapped into place as the woman stepped fully into the light of the street lamp.

“Tsukiko?” Amara exclaimed, feeling shocked.

"Yes! I’m so glad that you remember me, Garcia-san!” the young woman in question said, beaming brightly at Amara despite being a bit roughed up from the crash. “This is my brother. The one that I told you about before, Maeda-san. We've been trying to track down information on a... well, a rather horrible event that happened back in a small city in Japan. Everything was covered up pretty thoroughly, but my brother found some old paper documents. The events line up with what happened to you a few years ago. And well, after tonight..."

She waved a hand expressively toward the carriage and then toward the frozen body of the beast. 

"I think we stumbled onto something pretty big," Tsukiko said with a helpless shrug.

“Any information will be appreciated. You can ride with me. Come on, I need to get Officer Brea to safety,” Amara said to them with a faint smile as she turned to continue her trek to the Jeep. “We can talk later about what’s going on.”

Tsukiko darted ahead and opened the passenger door for Amara. She shot the younger woman a grateful look before easing Officer Brea into the back seat and buckling her up. Tsukiko slipped into the back seat, her brother following nervously after her. Amara limped her way to the driver's side of the Jeep, wincing and rubbing her leg. The injury was healing, she could feel it, but fuck if it didn't hurt. Sighing, she slipped into the driver's seat and started the vehicle back up. Thankfully, the heat was still on max. 

God, she was cold...

“You should head to Soho,” Tsukiko said quietly, looking worriedly at the officer next to her. “I believe the apartments are empty right now. The radio said the Mayor was ordering a full evacuation of the entire city. We could take shelter there?”

“Y-Yes. And we could use the rest,” Maeda chimed in nervously. “My sister and I only j-just arrived from Japan. It’s been an exhausting day….”

“I bet,” Amara responded with a mirthless laugh. “The accident probably didn’t help any.”

“No, it didn’t,” Tsukiko agreed, leaning back in her seat with a small groan. 

Amara turned down another street, following the signs for the Soho district. Traffic was easier to get through now that most people had fled the park, either by foot or vehicle. Amara couldn’t imagine how bad things must be further out now that the evacuation was underway. Thankfully, the drive to the apartment complex Tsukiko was talking about wasn't too far of a drive. Amara pulled into the empty parking lot and parked the vehicle. Tsukiko jumped out. 

“I’ll go find an empty apartment for us to hole up in,” she called over her shoulder as she rushed toward the entrance.

Amara acknowledged her with a wave, feeling exhausted. Taking a fortifying breath, she forced herself out of the vehicle and opened the back seat. With Maeda's help, she was able to carry the other woman into the building. Tsukiko ran over to them, keys to a room in hand. 

“I found an abandoned apartment on the bottom floor,” she said in a chipper tone. “Mostly empty, but there's a bed. It should suit our needs for now. I turned the heat up in the room too, so it should be nice and toasty in a few minutes."

“Thanks,” Amara responded with a grateful smile. The young hacker-slash-inventor had always been the eager to please sort. 

Between the three of them, they were able to get Officer Brea into the apartment room and onto the bed within. Amara grabbed her first aid kit, carefully going over the officer's form while looking for injuries. Plenty of scrapes and bruises to use the first aid spray on, but again, nothing overly serious. And yet, she was out like a light. 

"What happened to you?" Amara muttered with a small frown. "Are you like me now too?"

The officer didn't answer. In fact, she promptly rolled over and curled into a ball around one of the pillows. Amara let out a soft huff of amusement at the sight. She brushed the woman's hair out of her face and covered her with a blanket before slipping out of the room. Groaning, Amara set her rifle and handgun on the table before abruptly going still. She sighed and placed her head in her hands. 

"I'm so fucking screwed..." she said with another groan. 

“Why do you say that, Garcia-san?” Tsukiko asked. Amara looked up and met those amused and curious brown eyes. 

“I disobeyed direct orders and went to Officer Brea’s aid alone,” she responded with a heavy sigh. She risked a glance at her phone and saw that it had no bars. No wonder she hadn't gotten a call yet. Shit service in the area. “I’m pretty sure once they find out where I am at, there is going to be a shit storm to follow.”

“They better not try anything with me here,” Tsukiko said with a frown, eyes narrowing darkly. Amara let out a bemused huff. “I won’t allow it.”

“N-now now, Tsu,” Maeda said, voice shaking and accent heavier than usual as he held up his hands. “I d-don’t think she’ll get into t-t-too m-m-much trouble. Right, Garcia-san?”

"Really depends," she replied with a shrug. She knew that Tsukiko meant well, but the shit-storm was going to hit and hit hard, and there was nothing her old friend could do about it. Not as a civilian. 

Amara rolled her shoulder, rubbing at her neck. She started to lean forward to check over her weapons when her phone buzzed. Grabbing it, Amara winced at the sight of the number. She went to answer it when the call ended abruptly. Just as quickly, her phone started to ring again. She answered the phone, hoping the spotty connection wouldn't fail a second time. 

"Garcia here," she said, gathering her courage enough to keep her tone even. 

"Agent Garcia," Chris began in a tone that usually meant someone was on latrine duty. At best. "Where are you, and what is your current condition?"

“Captain Redfield. I am fine, sir. I am in an apartment complex in Soho. I've located Officer Brea and have two civilians with me,” Amara replied in a monotonous tone.

There were certain things that Amara hated. Having people angry at her... and having them sound disappointed in her. Chris sounded like he was both, and it made her stomach clench in fear. God, she was going to get an earful, wasn't she?

"What's the name of the apartment complex?" he asked in that no-nonsense tone.

“Hudson Square Apartments, sir,” Amara responded in a crisp tone.

"Any injured?" his voice somehow got colder. "Even minor injuries."

Chris knew damn well that Amara had a habit of passing off her own injuries as inconsequential. Especially given that she healed faster than was reasonable sometimes. He'd call her out on it if he noticed her trying to hide an injury. 

“Officer Brea is unconscious and resting as we speak,” Amara glanced down at her form. “The two civilians are uninjured. I only have some scratches from a small scuffle with an enemy that tried to attack Officer Brea.”

"Enemy?" his voice rose slightly in pitch, and she heard him swallow roughly even over the phone before his voice went back to the calm chill from before. "Human or BOW, and what is the status? Do we need to send a containment team or clean-up? And where?"

"BOW, and it’s dead,” Amara answered, clenching her eyes shut as she spoke. “Clean-up team needed near… I think it was the Riftstone Arch.”

There was some muffled shouting from Chris. He’d covered up the phone's mic and was yelling out instructions to someone nearby. Leon’s voice came through briefly, and there was the rough sound of a phone changing hands. 

“Amara?” Leon had gotten the phone away from Chris, willingly or otherwise. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, sir,” Amara responded, doing her best to keep the budding exhaustion from her voice. 

She looked up and saw Tsukiko glaring at her phone. Amara made a shooing gesture at the other woman, prompting the younger girl to roll her eyes and stick out her tongue.

“Don’t worry too much about Chris,” Leon said in a gentle but no less stern tone. “He’s in a protective mode. It’s… rough… right now. Most of the survivors that Sergeant Thomas got out of the area were kids and their families. We... we've got a lot of orphans over here now. To have you go missing on us like that was… worrisome, to say the least.”

"Understood, sir. My apologies," Amara replied, rubbing her forehead. 

Spots danced over her vision for a moment, negative thoughts beginning to ping-pong around in her head. The air around her chilled, and she stood, stepping a few feet away from the brother and sister pair. That her new 'ice' powers were responding to negative emotions wasn't a good thing. She didn't want to hurt anyone on accident, dammit. 

“Stay where you are, and stay safe,” Leon ordered in a gentler tone. “We have a lot to discuss both before and after the debrief. I’ll try to keep Chris from going into an angry bear mode, but Amara, we are both upset and very worried right now. I’ll be checking your injuries over myself.”

Amara pursed her lips together. 

"Yes, sir…" she said, still doing her best to keep her voice carefully blank. "We'll be here."

She hung up the phone and placed her head in her hands again. God, why was she suddenly doubting their new relationship? Her Captain had a right to be upset with her. And Leon had said they were worried about her, too. That counted for something, right? Fuck. Why wasn't the damned fog going away? Why...? Amara shook her head and stood up. Tsukiko caught her attention, head jerking toward the door. Amara nodded, but when Tsukiko made to stand up, she held up her hand. Better that she be alone for a few. Especially if she started exuding ice again. 

Better to be outside, where it was already cold and where there was no one else around. Running her hands through her hair, Amara walked along the front of the building before turning to lean her back against the cold brick. Darkness ate at her vision yet again, and she found herself sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees. 

What the hell was wrong with her...?

Chapter Text

Trial and error. That little truth that no one outside of the science community really wanted to talk about or acknowledge. Success was only found after stacking failure atop the back of failure, but all the news cared about was who succeeded above where others failed. 

Failure in our line of work meant more dead to be buried and mourned...

Wesker kept his operations minimal, even outside of the lab's thirty employees. Ten scientists, including himself. Ten assistants, including myself, and ten security guards with military training. Mind, we were down six folks at the moment, but Wesker had a list of people he was looking at to replace them. Several of which were included in the volunteer list for the Tango team he had put together. The test was going to act as both a job and a job interview for the former soldiers. 

The team of five slipped into the park thirty minutes before the listed time for the performance's start. There was already a decent-sized crowd as people wanted the best seats. Each person stayed at a different location in the crowd to test the strength and effectiveness of the inhibitor. Two of the people who had volunteered were like Chris and Leon. Carriers of the T-virus who had been left mostly unaffected by the virus itself beyond a, well, what was essentially a 'stat boost' if you will. 

A hair bit faster. 

A teeny bit stronger. 

A minute bit wiser.

It helped as well that the virus was pretty much dormant within them. Bloodwork still showed that the virus was present in their bloodstreams, but it was dormant. The strands of the virus cocooned in a little bubble of protein. They couldn't infect someone if they tried. Something about the virus kept it locked to the person in question, like some twisted version of a key item bound to a single individual. 

Either way, people like Chris, Leon, and the two soldiers made them perfect 'control' subjects for Wesker. Given the benefits they'd gained from the virus, Chris to his strength and Leon to his speed, Wesker saw them as a near-perfect baseline for which to continue his work into advancing humanity. Very, very few individuals would be able to benefit from the Birkin T-virus. One in a million odds, and with a population of over six billion people, that meant that maybe six thousand or so folks could fully bond with Birkin's version of the T-virus. 

But people like Chris? Like Leon, Claire, Jill, and so many others that were popping up left and right with minor physical and mental boosts and a desire to join the fight against the bio-weapons? Either by fighting the monsters directly or by joining corporations like TerraSave the way Clair did? One in every ten thousand. And who knew what would happen when those folks had kids. The other three members of our Tango team were regular old Ex-military guys who worked freelance. 

I let out a breath in a silent sigh, letting the paper in my hand fall back against the clipboard. This entire thing was a hot mess and...

"Take a break," Wesker ordered abruptly, startling me out of my thoughts.

I looked up at Wesker with a frown and opened my mouth to tell him that the information needed to be transferred over to the team into the main office, but he cut me off. 

"You've been lost in thought for ten minutes now," he said with a frown, a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. "Not only that, but your heart rate is elevated. Take your fifteen."

"I..." I let out a huff, setting the paperwork aside. Stupid enhanced hearing bullshit. I was fine. Just fine. Not like the reports included information about the several dozen families that had been either wiped out or torn apart. "Right... I'll be back in a few. Coffee?"

"No," he responded with a roll of his shoulders, tucking the notebook and pen away. "I've already gotten a fresh cup. Run along, my Lorraine."

I bit back a small growl of annoyance and headed out of the room, making a beeline for the breakroom. Despite Wesker's suggestion-slash order to take a break, my thoughts kept wandering back to what had been in that report. 

I slipped into the kitchen area of the break room to make up my second cup of coffee. I popped the Keurig cup into the machine and leaned against the counter. Our two 'controls,' Alen and Kyle, had survived with no health problems beyond a complaint that they'd been a bit overheated during the attack and had minor sunburns. And that was with Kyle being close enough to see and record a brief conversation between Eve and the NYPD officer Aya Brea. 

The other three? The one at the far end of the crowd, Thomas, who had helped the NYPD and BSAA rescue folks before they could be turned into goo, had to be treated for second and third-degree burns along his extremities. He’d been able to stay ‘in range’ of Eve’s abilities for four, five minutes tops. 

Alan, who had been positioned in the middle of the crowd, had also survived, but he'd been injured far worse. He had extensive third and fourth-degree burns on his arms and legs even though he'd fled the area as soon as the flames had formed on his body. 

Lucas... Lucas had been near the stage itself, on the other side of the stage from Kyle. Instead of running as soon as the flames started up, he'd opted to be a hero, read be an idiot, and had approached the women confronting each other. To be fair, he'd gotten within about ten feet of the two, but he had also promptly caught fire and had been burned to ash. Cremated in an instant. 

Wesker felt that he’d gotten very valuable data, but then the blonde was a consummate scientist and researcher. 

At least we had some good news. The Eve Inhibitor the scientists had created worked not only to destabilize creatures infected with the strain but also to help protect both our agents and the BSAA's agents from danger. It would work wonders for Leon, Chris, Alen, Kyle, and anyone else who had already encountered and been left ‘unaffected’ by the T-virus.  

Bad news? It only brought unaltered humans enough time to get away from the area. And even then, the time was limited. 

I knew that Wesker intended to get further blood samples from both the survivors of the park and Alex to improve the inhibitor. Or at least attempt to. What we really needed at this point was a replacement sample from one of Eve's beasts, like the one that had attacked Amara and Aya on the bridge. We were still waiting on a full combat report on how Amara had dealt with the thing. Or we'd be lucky enough to get a sample directly from Eve herself. 

Hopefully, I'd have a chance to subtly obtain a sample from Amara when I went to New York. I had a two-hour flight ahead of me that I was not looking forward to. Wesker was sticking me into a private fighter jet with one of his best pilots. The jet would fly in under TriCell's banner, allowing me and the pilot to approach without angering the government. Quick action was what we were there for, after all. I shivered at the thought, wondering how my altered form would handle the G-forces of the flight. 

I had disliked heights ever since I'd learned about these little things called 'terminal velocity' and 'surface tension.'

As I took my cup off the Keurig machine and threw away the used container, I found myself blanking on how to get a sample from Amara without getting caught. If I was alone with her, that might not be difficult, but if she was with the others... I sighed and shook my head, cleaning the machine before pouring a good amount of cream into the coffee. I found myself smiling faintly as I stirred the mixture. 

Crazy as everything was right now, there was a hint of normalcy despite it all. Wesker had actually left a replacement box of high-quality Keurig cups on my desk, along with a cheeky note that said that I was 'out of sugar.' Smartass. He was the reason I was out of sugar in the first place, but at least he had been kind enough to replace my coffee. The flavor was white mocha, one of my favorites, but it was an expensive brand that I'd never gotten before. 

I might have been paid handsomely, but for the most part, I lived frugally. 

He usually got his own drinks, leaving me free from one of the usual duties of a secretary. It amused me to find out that the smarmy, handsome bastard had a sweet tooth that I hadn't been aware of. It was so human of him. Maybe I'd surprise him with some eclairs or macarons. He seemed like the type who might like them now that I knew he liked sweets...

Kyrie Stokes entered the break room, letting out a loud and happy hum that pulled me out of my thoughts. She was one of the other scientists here. I raised a brow at her when I noticed her expression was a mixture of annoyance and eagerness. I let out a heavy sigh. That was a look that I recognized. Someone had either started up yet another workplace bet, or she was trying to confirm an outcome. 

“So, is it true?” she asked nonchalantly as she walked over and leaned against the counter next to me. 

“Is what true?” I asked with a raised brow, reaching for a packet of sugar to sweeten my coffee. 

“Dr. Johnson is out there saying that he got lucky with you last night after the fight with the BOW,” she said, reaching up to tap her pointed nails against her lower lip. 

“He… He what ?” I turned to look at her with wide eyes, fingers reflexively tearing the sugar packet I was holding completely in two, sending bits of sugar everywhere.

“Ah, I thought so,” she let out a sigh that was beyond pleased as she stepped back to brush her shirt clean. “You’d best deal with that before he continues spouting lies about you. Money is about to change hands.”

“Before he continues?!” I repeated before hissing angrily and patting away the sugar grains on my own shirt. “I need to silence the oaf before he gets himself killed !”

“Oh?” she blinked at me, her expression confused. “Why would you-?”

“I was with Dr. Wesker,” I snapped at her, knowing the information would spread like a wildfire but not caring at this point. 

I spun on my heel and stalked for the other connecting door where the lunch tables lay spread out. Dr. Johnson's irritating laughter filled the air. Kyrie laughed and followed on my heels. 

“I knew it!” she said, catching up to me in time to nudge my arm with her elbow. When I glared at her, she continued. "I knew that our resident Ice Queen could only be ‘destined’ to be partnered with our Ice King.”

“Honestly,” I muttered angrily, turning the corner and entering the main eating area to see a crowd gathered at the far end. “You lot love rumors too much. It's like you have nothing better to do… They think the same at the other facility!”

“It passes the time between experiments,” Kyrie said, stopping at the entranceway so she could watch events as they unfolded.

“And she was-” Dr. Johnson was in the middle of saying as I stalked closer to the group. 

“Doing absolutely nothing with a lout like you,” I interrupted angrily. 

The crowd around him fell back a bit, more than a few faces looking eager for a ‘normal’ fight to break out. Money was already trading hands, and I glared at the two who looked smug at my interruption. They ducked their heads and looked away. I looked back at Dr. Johnson with a dark frown. 

“Now, Miss Kvale,” he said, turning to look at me with a smarmy-ass grin that made me want to punch him. He’d fucked up my name again! On top of trying to spread salacious slander. “I know that we had quite a several drinks last night, but surely you remember-”

“She remembers quite well whose company she kept last night, Dr. Johnson,” Wesker’s voice interrupted the other man, his tone as cold and cruel as Hela herself. The crowd nearest the door dispersed rapidly to make way for the tall blonde in his dark leather coat. “As do I. Lorraine, come here.”

If I was angry, then Wesker looked outright lethal . Rather than walk over to the group, he paused a few steps from the door and looked over the gathered crowd. The terrifying picture he made was made all the more potent because he wasn't wearing his shades. Those angry dragon's eyes were narrowed in vicious threat. Wesker's gaze landed on Dr. Johnson, and the shorter man started sputtering, eyes wide. 

"S-sir, I... I just... We..." he fell silent as Wesker's lips curled into an open, disgusted sneer. 

The rest of the crowd immediately distanced themselves from myself and the good doctor. Rolling my shoulders and firmly containing the urge to punch the idiot next to me, I made my way over to Wesker's side. He blinked slowly before turning to look me over. He very pointedly and purposefully reached out to take my left hand in his own. I blinked, hiding my confusion as he turned my hand this way and that before reaching out to pull off my old wedding band. 

My fingers flexed nervously at the action. Was... was Wesker doing what I thought he was doing? The brief thought that he was going to toss aside the ring, the last physical tie to my old home, passed through my mind, but I relaxed as he slid the old band onto the ring finger of my right hand. He then reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a rather simple-looking silvery ring that he slipped onto my finger without any sort of fanfare.

I say simple-looking, but a closer look proved that it was anything but. At first, I thought it was an ouroboros, a nod to the Uroborus project and how we were going to use it as a means of advancing his ‘role’ and not a bid for godly power. And yet, when I turned my hand to get a better view of the ring, I saw four delicate little legs tucked against the side of the thin band. It wasn't a snake but rather a design loosely styled like a Chinese dragon. It wasn’t a secret that I liked dragons, I had a ton of little dragon figures on display in my house, but that he’d gotten a ring in a design that I’d approve of certainly surprised me.

Blinking, I lifted my hand, and he released it, allowing me a better look at the band. The eyes were a black so deep that one might mistake them as onyx, but I knew better than that. I knew Wesker better than that. 

The gemstone eyes were black diamonds. In fact, the ring wasn't silver, like I'd first thought, but platinum . 

I very forcefully stifled the urge to let out a surprised wheeze of noise. The damned thing was likely worth more than my house. And that was before taking into account the high likelihood of the thing being bugged to Hel and back. Something like this was definitely a special order, and... he'd been planning this for a while, hadn't he? I could have opted not to go on that walk, true, but he’d probably have made another attempt at a later point. He’d just decided to try the blunt route first. 

Which I honestly appreciated. Him randomly asking me out on a date would have probably given me a mini panic attack and any flirting would have gone right over my head. I could tell when people were flirting with each other, but with me ? Unless I was the one who initiated the flirting, I was a clueless bitch… 

Wait a second… Maybe he had tried flirting first? He did startle me in the office after I killed that dumb spider. While wearing just that nice dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and getting all close and in my personal bubble and… 

Gods, I can be dense sometimes… He had been flirting, hadn’t he? ‘Showing off the goods,’ so to speak. Something he never did. And I’d about had a panic attack because he’d been all up in my personal bubble while looking so damned edible and getting upset with myself over having a physical reaction to him in the first place. I let out a faint sigh and chuckled, shaking my head at my own silliness and resisting the urge to facepalm. Wesker raised a brow at me and tilted his head just a hair. 

“You do nothing by halves, do you?” I muttered in a low voice, speaking softly so that the others wouldn’t hear us. Many of the others in the room looked like they would have flocked around me by now had they not been absolutely terrified of Wesker.

“No. I do not," Wesker murmured back, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear in a seemingly tender movement. "You are mine, and you always will be. The only thing that would have changed was the manner in which you would have belonged to me..."

I let out a huff, and he smirked, catching my chin in his hand. Before I could say anything, Wesker gave me a quick but mind-melting kiss. He pulled away before I could properly respond to the kiss, struck dumb as I was by the blatant PDA. A low chuckle that promised many things escaped him. Wesker turned back to the doorway, only to pause and glance over his shoulder at the 'good doctor' who had been trying to spread lies about me. 

“Dr. Johnson," he began, voice as cold as the northern tundra. "My office. Now .”

The man in question swallowed roughly, looking like death warmed over. I felt a brief burst of cruel satisfaction fill me at the sight of him following after Wesker like a man condemned to the gallows. Served him right. The 'Doctor' was a notorious flirt, bad enough that multiple females in the lab had to file HR complaints. And wasn't that a fucking laugh, that our little clandestine operation here had its own HR? I mean, it was mostly just me handling things, and then I sent it up to Wesker to be reviewed if I couldn't handle it myself. The man had a way of terrifying people into correcting their poor behavior if my admonishments failed. 

Kyrie wandered back over to my side and leaned in to get a look at the ring. I held it up so she could get a good look at it. The other woman’s movements broke the tension in the air, and I was promptly swarmed by the rest of the group. 

“Now, that’s a lovely piece,” Kyrie said while the others all started asking questions at the same time. Enough so that it became white-noise. “How long have you two been together then?”

"Honestly, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said with a laugh. 

“I have good money on this,” she said, poking me in the side with a playful frown. "Come on, Kvale. Spill."

“Last night,” I responded with a shit-eating grin. 

I could have a bit of fun at the expense of those betting on the timeframe. Kyrie frowned at me, tilting her head, but I was giving nothing away. 

“Alright, then,” she said, narrowing her eyes on me with a huff. “Keep your secrets.”

Chapter Text

Amara woke with a start as a hand closed around her shoulder and gave her a shake. She blinked her eyes open and met Leon's worried gaze. He was kneeling next to her in the snow, and... oh, she had one of the emergency blankets wrapped around her, and he was in the process of pulling her into his lap. 

“Amara?” Leon asked hesitantly, his voice laced with barely concealed concern. “Come on, I need you to wake up for me. Ms. Maeda said that you’ve been out for several hours now. She thought you were on guard duty, not sleeping out here in the cold...”

Amara blinked at him a few times before realizing that, yes, she had fallen asleep outside in the cold. She'd meant to just rest her eyes for a few minutes, and... why didn't she feel worse off? Yes, she was still tired as hell, but she didn't feel frozen over or... or anything else one would expect from falling asleep outside in the middle of winter. In New York, no less. 

  "Sorry," she murmured in a low voice. "I... didn't mean to fall asleep. I take it the Captain is inside?"

"Yeah. He's getting witness statements from Aya and the civies you rescued and brought back with you," Leon said, settling her more securely in his lap. He rubbed his hands gently over her arms, frowning a bit as he looked her over. "I'm a bit more concerned about you right now. Even a cursory glance shows that you have some nasty bruises forming on your arms. And Dominic and Piers sent us some photos of the BOW you fought. Impressive taking that out on your own, by the way."

She blushed at the praise and ducked her head. She didn't feel that impressive. Not with the shadows pounding away at the back of her mind. 

"I have some first aid spray that we can put on those injuries," he continued in a gentle but firm tone. "But first, I need to know how you feel. Are you feeling warmer? Numbness anywhere?"

"I..." she shifted her fingers and toes a little and then winced as a wave of nausea hit her. Hard. 

*Stupid fat ass. I would have thought you would have been able to keep yourself warm, what with all that fat you got on you.*

A voice from her past echoed loudly in her head, making her wince. She could practically see the handsome, yet foul face of the one who was speaking in her head. Amara clenched her eyes shut tight, not daring to mention that she felt fine, physically, but on edge, mentally. She forced her voice to remain steady as she answered Leon's questions.

"I'm fine," she said in a soft voice. "Can feel my fingers and toes just fine. Warmer, too. My injuries from fighting the BOW weren't too severe. It's just mostly exhaustion. I'll live."

“Hm,” Leon reached out and tilted her chin up, turning her head so that she was looking at him. His expression darkened a moment later. “'You’ll live’... not on my watch Amara.”

“ Eh ?!” she jolted completely out of her daze at the seemingly threatening words and looked at him in open confusion.

“You’re going to do more than just live , Amara,” Leon said, his expression turning soft as he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re going to thrive . Let's step into the lobby and have you take the jacket off, my Yuki-onna. I need to tend to those injuries of yours.”

He stood up, easing her off of his lap and helping her to her feet. Despite the feeling that he was upset with her, his grip remained tender. Gentle. Amara could feel her cheeks warm as she steadied herself on her feet. She followed him back into the apartment lobby and cleared her throat.

"Why did you call me Yuki-onna?" she asked softly. 

"Chris and the others said you have fire powers," Leon said with an amused huff. "So perhaps a different nickname for you would work to them, but all I've seen has been the ice. Hells, you even froze the damned BOW over. Impressive. Also, where did I find you?"

He paused, turning to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Her blush deepened, and he leaned over to place a quick kiss on her cheek. 

"Outside, covered in a fine dust of snow," he said, grinning playfully. "My Yuki-onna."

"F-fair enough," Amara said, feeling her cheeks warm even further. She sure as hell wasn't used to receiving compliments. 

Leon led her to the office behind the main counter and over to a chair. Amara sat down with a sigh, trying to contain a grimace. The aches and pains from the earlier fight were more noticeable now that the shock and adrenaline had faded from her system. Yes, the worst of it had healed over thanks to whatever healing boost her body gave her, but she was still hurt. Using her powers the way she had meant she had less energy to spare for healing. 

The sandy-haired blonde let out a soft tsk of sound and set about treating her injuries, helping her out of the damaged body vest. He was surprisingly gentle while applying the first aid spray. Amara had just started to relax again when Chris exited the apartment the others were holed up in through the open door of the office they were in. She froze when his eyes met hers, rather like a deer caught in the headlights. And yet, it was not anger in his eyes but a flash of open concern, worry, and relief. 

An instant later, those softer emotions were shoved back behind the mask that was 'Captain Redfield.' Amara had expected him to immediately light in on her for having gone off like a bat out of hell, but he simply walked over and watched as Leon finished tending the rest of her injuries with impassive eyes. Once Leon sat back and started packing away the first aid supplies, Chris let out a rough-sounding sigh.

"Garcia," he started, shaking his head and pulling out a recorder. He turned it on and set it down on the office desk. "I need you to explain to me why you ran off on your own. You were under orders to remain with the group and did not respond to our efforts to call you back.”

“It was as if you couldn’t hear us or anything else around you,” Leon said, closing up the first aid kit and locking it. “You all but knocked Piers on his ass getting to the Jeep.”

"It's… Hard to explain, sir. Something was calling me,” she began warily. Amara dug her nails into her palm, trying to force back a wave of nausea. To force back the thought that they wouldn't believe her. “More like screaming out to me for help. I just... reacted to it. Nothing else seemed to matter."

*Stupid woman. Who will believe a fat bitch like you? Going to cry now? Nothing more than a filthy crybaby*

A shiver ran through her, and she looked down at the wooden floor, her head twitching slightly as she tried to force the intrusive thoughts away. He wasn't here. It wasn't real . It...

Leon’s fingers brushed against her chin, causing her to jolt and look up at him with wide eyes. He and Chris shared a long look, concern clear on both of their faces. Chris knelt next to her and caught her hand in his. 

“So this call… pulled you to where Officer Brea was?” he asked, his tone softer but still firm.

"Yes, sir," Amara said, voice losing its inflection and becoming kind of... dead. She wanted to hold on to the warmth these two had offered her. To offer warmth in return... but people had pretended to be nice before and… No. Chris and Leon weren't like that. "The call felt weird and... familiar, in a way? I... it's hard to explain."

"Alright, I'm ending the recording," Chris reached forward and turned off the tape recorder before sitting back with a sigh. "This... is not exactly a good situation. Yes, by going off the way you did, you successfully rescued Officer Brea. The Officer said that Eve 'had plans for her.' Plans that you seemed to have interrupted. Not only that, but Officer Brea seems to have developed abilities not dissimilar to your own. What we need to figure out is if it was Officer Brea who called you or if it was Eve .”

"We can run tests later," Leon said in a firm but gentle voice. "After both of you have had time to rest and eat. We can’t afford to have you fall into a trap, so this new ‘calling’ sensation needs to be explored and understood as quickly as we can manage.”

“Especially if it’s actually a call for aid,” Chris continued in an agreeing tone. “Such a link might be useful later. First things first, food. We have a contact waiting at a nearby diner. We can eat and de-stress there while the others search the area.”

"I... yes, sir," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. If a plan was already in place, then... that was fine. 

Aren't they going to yell? she thought, vision spotting again for a moment.

“Amara, hey. Look at me,” Chris said, touching her cheek gently. She looked up at him with a blink, vision snapping back into focus. “I’m not mad at you . I’m upset with the situation, yes. But I’m not mad at you . What I am, is worried. Part of me wants to send you back to HQ, but I’m not an idiot. You are a highly capable and valued member of this team. I’m not going to bench you because of one incident outside of your control.”

"I... thank you," she said quietly, emotion finally bleeding back into her voice. She reached up to cup her hand over his own, shivering. "Honestly though, I'm... I'm scared..."

"Amara," Chris and Leon shared a brief look for a moment before Chris pulled her into a hug. Leon gently rubbed at her back. "Tell me honestly; do you want to head back to HQ? No judgment. I already know this is going to be a rough case.”

"No, I'm not afraid of Eve. I'm..." she took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. *Weakling* Amara shook away the thought. "I'm afraid that you'll see me as broken... As one of the monsters we fight..."

She looked down and to the side, clenching her hands tight enough that she felt a flash of pain. Leon hissed next to her and quickly but gently pulled her hand open before digging into the medkit. For a moment, she found herself watching him as if from a distance. Oh, she'd drawn blood. No wonder he was concerned. Chris touched her cheek, making her flinch away from his touch. 

“Hey,” he said in a soothing voice. “None of that now. You aren’t broken. You’re one of the strongest women I know, right up there with Jill and my sister Claire. Nor are you a monster."

“Who taught you to think like that?” Leon asked with a low growl, still tending her hand. “Just give me a damned name, and I’ll….”

“Leon,” Chris gently but firmly said in a reprimanding tone. “Proper channels, Mr. I always do the paperwork.”

“You know damn well there are exceptions to the rules,” Leon growled back fiercely. Protectively. 

"I... when I was younger, all I knew was pain," she said in a low voice, closing her eyes. Hearing them banter so openly was helping to chase away the shadows. Made it easier to talk about things. "My adoptive parents. My... anyway. It's like a cloud that follows me wherever I go. I don't even... Are you two sure you can care for someone that doesn’t even know what love is ?"

“You know what love is,” Chris said firmly after sharing another wordless look with Leon. “You show it to those around you every day. Especially Dominic. You love him like a brother.”

“You know how to care for people, Amara,” Leon said, brushing the tears away gently as she started to cry. “After everything you’ve been through, you care and do so strongly. The better question is if you can stand to be with the two of us. Either of us could die at any moment. Not only that, but I'm away for long periods for the President. Can you wait for us during those long weeks or months where we can't be at each other's sides?”

"And I won't be in danger myself?" Amara countered with a watery laugh as she opened her eyes and leaned into Leon's touch. "Don't forget that I'm BSAA too, mister. And I've helped save your asses. Or are you forgetting what happened during the Soviet mission a while back where I had to drag your ass out of trouble, oh mighty DSO agent? Vladimir Petrov and Jürgen Schneider may have helped me out, but I was the one who tracked your hogtied butt down."

"I'm never living that one down, am I?" Leon asked with a laugh. 

"Nope," Chris said with a smirk and a wink. 

"And you ," Amara continued with a small huff, poking Chris in the shoulder. "How many times have Piers, Jacobs, and I been called in to drag your ass out of the fire now? You want to talk to me about going off alone like you're one to talk?"

"Ouch, right to the quick," Chris said with a laugh and a shake of his head. He smiled fondly and ran a thumb over her cheek. "Glad to see you're back to being the sassiest, bossiest woman in the world. Next to my sister and Jill, of course."

"But they're..." she started, only to be hushed with a light bop to her nose. 

"You’re a badass bitch, Amara," he said in a fond tone. "Don’t ever doubt that.”

Before she could react, Chris leaned forward and pressed a gentle, but heated, kiss to her lips. After a moment of startled near-panic, she eased into the kiss, mouth working against his own. His tongue teased over her lower lip as if begging for entrance, and when she opened for him... whoo-boy. 

Chris pulled back when she let out a small whimper, his eyes heated and his expression just a little bit smug. Leon let out a faint huff, and she turned to blink at him in confusion... Only to be promptly pulled into a second, equally sensual kiss. 

A startled squeak from nearby had the two pulling away from each other. Amara looked toward the door and met the wide eyes of her friend, Tsukiko.

“Oh… uh… gomen! Gomen! I- nevermind !” the other woman darted off, promptly bursting into giggles as she ducked out of the office and back into the apartment. 

"Well, shit," Amara said, feeling her cheeks heat up. She buried her face against Leon's chest. "I need a cold shower..."

"No time for that, sadly," Chris said with a chuckle, helping Amara to her feet. "The chill outside will have to be enough for all of us, yeah? We've got a contact to meet. Her section of TriCell has been working on the case since the first Opera House Incident years ago. Said they have a breakthrough for us, which is why she's meeting us personally."

"Whose meeting us?" Leon asked, standing and looping his arm in Amara's.

“Lorraine Kvale,” Chris said, starting for the main door. "You've talked to her a few times via email and video call, Leon. I'm pretty sure you've done the same, Amara."

"Yeah," Leon said with a nod and a chuckle. "The one who helped you finally grow a-"

"Not talking about that!" Chris said, blushing brightly and letting out a huff. "Anyway, she's a bit of a loner but does good work with us through TriCell itself. The BSAA has benefited greatly from the arrangement." 

The other woman's name sounded very familiar, but Amara's thoughts were still somewhat foggy, so it was hard to place the name. Instead of pressing for more details, knowing she’d remember in time once her head cleared, she reached out and nudged Chris. 

"'The chill outside will have to be enough for all of us, yeah?'" she repeated in a teasing tone, flashing him a mock pout. "You say that, and yet the two don't look like you were affected at all."

“Crotch guard,” Chris said with a grin and a flirtatious wink.

“And what’s your excuse?” Amara asked, looking at Leon with a raised brow and a faint smile. 

“Self-control,” he said with a smirk. “Unlike some people, I know how to behave and not make a fool out of myself.”

“You’re still an incorrigible flirt,” Chris muttered, growling. 

“It’s called reconnaissance,” Leon countered with a prim huff.

“And I call it ‘chatting up the locals while looking thirsty.’ You flirt like you breathe, Kennedy,” Chris responded as he led them over to the Jeep. 

Leon stuck his tongue out with a 'meeh' sound that made Amara giggle. Chris punched the other man's arm lightly before looking back at her. 

"Almost forgot," Chris began with a wince. "Your friend and her brother are going to stay here. The Maeda's have offered to help Officer Brea and her partner find a Dr. Klamp, who may have information about Eve.”

"Alright," Amara said, nodding her head. "They said something about having information on another incident, so that makes sense."

She then hopped into the back of the Jeep, glad when Chris turned the heat up. The pair continued to talk about nonsensical things, and she found herself dozing off again. It felt like no time at all had passed when Leon gave her arm a gentle shake.

“Hey, we’re here,” he said with a gentle smile. “Time to go in and see what our contact has for us.”

“Do I smell food?” Chris asked as he stepped out of the vehicle. Now that he mentioned it, Amara could smell pancakes and eggs, bacon and sausage, and… damn, she was hungry . “Like, freshly cooked food?”

“Now that you mention it, I smell it too,” Leon glanced over his shoulder. “I thought we were just meeting outside the place?”

"Thought that too," Chris said with a bemused huff, starting for the diner. "Was just going to grab rations to share. I'm not about to turn down free food, though."

Despite the homey warmth of the place, Amara still looked around for any signs of danger. With nothing dangerous to be found, she forced her shoulders to relax. She took the time to take a closer look at the decor. It was set up like an old-style retro diner. Photos and memorabilia from the forties and fifties dotted the walls. Most of the booths were small, built for four people, but a handful of larger ones were tucked away in the back. 

One of the larger tables was loaded up with plates like a mini-buffet. Chris let out an eager, almost bear-like rumble of hunger and started for the table. Leon let out a laugh and trailed after him. A female voice called out to them from the kitchen. 

"Be with you in a minute!" that vaguely familiar voice said. "Just need to finish up the last of the bacon!”

“Take your time,” Leon called back, watching in amusement as Chris began to fill up a plate for himself. “Chris is going to be stuffing his face anyway, so it’ll be hard for him to talk.”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning!” Chris said defensively. 

"As long as he minds his manners and doesn't talk with his mouth open, that's fine," the woman said. Amara watched as a woman with long brown hair pulled back in a braid poked her head out through the door. Her eyes were a soft, expressive, chocolate-brown color, and she wore a pair of nice rimless glasses. “Eat what you’d like, guys. I know how long you can go between meals sometimes.”

Now that she'd had a good look at the other woman, Amara was able to recognize her. The pair mostly communicated through email or phone call, but they had talked once over video chat about a mission that Chris had gone on that had gone FUBAR. Since it was one of the missions Amara had also deployed for, she’d been able to clarify things for the TriCell representative. From there, Lorraine had coordinated their medical needs and helped Chris' team turn the mission around. 

Lorraine had been the one to crack the joke about Amara taking over for Chris. 

Hells, the first time they'd spoken had also been the first time that Amara had dared to help clean up one of his reports. Lorraine had immediately spotted the difference and had been both amused and, rather than be upset, had been grateful for her stepping in to help the taciturn man write up more detailed reports. Verbose he might be in person or over the phone, but his reports… yeesh. 

Amara shot Leon a hesitant look, and he reached out to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. She'd always been a bit twitchy around new people. Always worried that they’d immediately think that she was a freak of nature thanks to her powers. Oh, Lorraine knew a lot, same for Veronica, but she'd never actually met the woman in person. 

“It’ll be alright,” Leon murmured softly, kissing the side of her head. “We all know her, to varying degrees. She’s been a trusted contact for years now. It's okay. Eat. You need the energy.”

She nodded at his words, giving him a faint smile. Amara then took a seat after filling up her plate with a moderate amount of food. The first bite had her letting out a contented hum. It was good. She ate slowly but somehow seemed to always have more when she looked back down. 

Lorraine came out a few minutes later with one final plate packed high with bacon. Both men were quick to swipe several strips. Laughing, Lorraine grabbed her own plate and sat across from the three of them. They ate in silence for a little while before Lorraine set aside her utensils.  

"Right then, first things first," Lorraine began with a sigh, sitting back in the booth. "TriCell has been tracking the situation regarding the 'Eve-virus' as we're calling it. We were able to procure a few samples both from the recent attack and from the one where your abilities first showed up, Ms. Garcia.”

"What did you find?" Leon asked with a frown, leaning back and giving Amara's leg a comforting squeeze when she went still. 

"We've yet to find any source of the virus, or, I should say, nothing man-made," Lorraine said with a sigh, sipping at her water. "Not yet, at least. We have a few leads we are still following there. What we have succeeded in doing is working out a defensive inhibitor to help neutralize the effects of this ‘Eve’ has on other people.”

Lorraine reached into her coat pocket and pulled out two small cases, setting them on the table. She opened them, revealing four syringes in each one. One group was color-coded blue, the other green. The other woman tapped at the blue ones. 

"Please note that we have limited doses of the inhibitor at the moment," Lorraine said with a sigh. "The blue ones are meant for Chris and Leon. The others are meant for any other agents you may want to have on hand to help you at a distance if Eve can be located."

"Why are the vials two different colors?” she asked with a frown, looking between the two cases. “I highly doubt it's just for the pretty colors."

“Good catch,” Lorraine responded with a grim smile. “It is color-coded for a reason. Chris, Leon… Ugh, there is no easy way to explain this..."

"Whatever it is, just lay it on us," Chris said in a firm voice, tensing next to Amara. 

"Right," Lorraine let out another sigh. "This has been kept from your records by the BSAA and the DSO, kept from both of you as well, which was something I consider a major breach of privacy, but I finally was able to argue for approval to make your files open to you."

"That's not ominous at all," Leon said in a dry tone. Lorraine flashed him another grim smile as Amara grabbed and squeezed both of their hands. 

"The two of you were not left unaffected by your contact with the T-virus," Lorraine said, prompting both men to go still, their expressions shocked. "You're considered carriers, but only in the sense that the virus is completely dormant within you. Like it bonded with your DNA and then just... went to sleep, I suppose you could say."

"Like Chicken Pox and how the virus can later 'wake up' and turn into Shingles?" Leon asked, his tone serious but also worried. 

"Yes and no," Lorraine said with a shake of her head. "I should have probably said 'left markers and dissipated entirely.' You're considered to be 'neutral carriers' if that. There's no risk of it waking up in you or mutating you. You seem to have been lucky enough to be in the percentile that the virus was actually made to benefit. And you can't infect others, either, so no worries there."

Both men relaxed a bit at that, and Lorraine offered them a small smile. 

"With the information that we have on you and others like you. And yes, there are others," Lorraine continued, tapping her nail against the tabletop, "we've found that you and others are resistant to the Eve-virus. Resistant, but not immune . As such, the blue syringes are meant to help boost that natural resistance. It'll buy the two of you time if you need to approach Eve directly."

"How much time would it buy them?" Amara asked with a frown. "And what about the other vials?"

"Good question," Lorraine said, giving her a small smile. "To answer that, first, I want to clarify that you weren't the only agents there during the Park Incident. We had a team of volunteers ready to test the inhibitors and help evacuate people if the attack occurred stationed through the crowd. The Mayor’s refusal to call an evacuation did not mean that we, TriCell, were going to sit idly in the face of a threat.”

“Who were the members of the team?” Chris asked with a thoughtful look. 

"Five folks," the other woman began, taking another sip of her water. "Alen Pierre and Kyle Ignacio were survivors of other T-virus incidents. They experienced nothing more than a general overheating issue and what amounted to a sunburn. Alen was in the middle of the crowd. Kyle was near to the stage.”

“I remember seeing them,” Leon said with a nod of his head. 

“And the others?” Chris said, voice tight. Wary.

“Two of the three others survived and are recovering,” Lorraina said, her voice filled with sorrow. "Thomas Barnes was at the edge of the crowd and had second and third-degree burns on his extremities. Alan Mercedes was in the center of the crowd and had third and fourth-degree burns. Lucas Johnson was closest to the stage and... Eve’s abilities overpowered the inhibitor when he went to help Officer Brea on the stage. He was burned into ash."

The three of them shared a grim look before turning back to Lorraine, who sighed softly and set her glass down. She tapped the other container. 

"The second inhibitor is only meant to get others time to get to a safe distance or just to safety in general," she continued. "We’re working on developing more of the second and are hoping to improve on it if possible. We lost a lot of civilians during that attack...”

Amara looked at the table, setting her fork down and rubbing at her face. She felt a bit sick to her stomach. All those people, dead because of Eve. Lorraine caught Amara's eye as she lowered her hand to the table and gently reached out to cover her hand with her own with a small smile. 

"I know it's hard to hear," the other woman said in a gentle tone. "The loss of so many lives is never easy to deal with or even comprehend. We lost good people yesterday, yes, but you need to eat. We all do. If we aren’t operating at our best, then we’ll make mistakes. And mistakes mean more lives lost.”

“She’s right,” Chris said, and Amara could tell he was forcing himself to finish off the last of the bacon on his plate. He pushed the plate away a moment later and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuckin’ FUBAR is what this is.”

“Try to finish what you have,” Leon said to Amara before falling silent and tending to the remains of his own meal. 

Lorraine flashed her another gentle smile, hand tightening on her own briefly before the other woman went back to her own food. The group continued to eat in silence for several long minutes. Chris eventually sighed and pulled the blue-marked inhibitors to his side. He took two and passed them over to Leon. Leon handed him two of the green ones in turn. 

Amara continued to eat and found herself surprised when she managed to finish off her food. Lorraine let out a tired sigh as she finished off her own portion. Her face brightened a moment later as she pushed her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose. She reached into her purse and pulled out three envelopes. 

“On to happier news!” she said with a bit of forced cheer. “These are for you!”

Amara watched in confusion as Lorraine passed the three envelopes out to each of them. Lorraine then took out three folders, all with the same title on the header, ‘Project W.’ Lorraine waved at the three of them, giving them a strained smile. 

“Read the invites first,” she said gently. “I’ll give you the folders in a moment. I know there's going to be... opinions ...”

“Alright…” Chris said slowly, opening his with a confused frown.

Leon did the same beside him. Amara shrugged, opening her own. Her brow flew up, and she blinked down at the high-quality paper in surprise. It was a wedding invite.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Lorraine Kvale and Albert Wesker on February the 9th in Tromsø, Norway, at the Aurora Borealis Observatory at midnight. 

The dress code is requested to be formal, but it is also noted that full military gear is allowed for those who receive these invites due to prior incidents involving the groom-to-be. 

We hope to see you there.

“What… in the hell… is this ?” Chris growled out, and looking over, Amara could see a second, smaller note with Chris’ invite that wasn’t included for her and Leon. 

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Lorraine said in a gentle tone. 

" Do you know who that son of a bitch is ?!" Chris roared, jerking to his feet. His knees hit the table hard enough that the other three had to catch their drinks. 

“I know more than you do, actually,” Lorraine said firmly, picking up and handing the three files out. “Please read these before you make any further judgment regarding my fiancé.”

“But that son of a-!” Chris started, only to stop when Leon let out a strained hiss after opening his folder.

“Chris, read the report,” he said, and Amara could pick out a hint of Leon’s temper peaking through. 

“Fucking… fine ,” Chris growled before beginning to read.

Amara glanced down at her own folder and frowned at it. Wondering at the contents, she opened it up and began to read through things. The contents were packed full of medical jargon, but it was still easy enough to follow. 

Over three hundred kids, around three-hundred and thirty-one, had been taken from various homes for a high-end 'eugenics program.’ All of them were listed as being prodigies between the ages of three and five. All of them were Caucasian with blonde hair and blue eyes. Those from very well-to-do homes were given training for several years and eventually shipped back to their families. 

The rest? Their families were either told that the children had died… or were outright eliminated in a series of highly suspicious ‘tragic accidents.'

“The fuck does this have to do with anything?” Chris growled out through gritted teeth as he sat back down, still reading. Amara glanced upward at Lorraine, wondering the same thing. 

“Keep reading,” Lorraine responded softly. "Please."

Amara turned back to the folder and winced when she got to a rather brutal section. Desensitization training. Assassin training from a young age and on into adulthood. Training in specified fields as directed by the scientists in charge of the children. The complete and utter control of another Human Being from childhood to adulthood. Injections and alterations of the children better suit them to survive the whole process. The deaths. Brutal and horrible deaths until they'd been whittled down to a 'lucky thirteen.'

And all the kids had one thing in common beyond the reason for being ‘selected’ for the ‘eugenics’ program.

The last name of Wesker.

From what she could tell, there were only two survivors left of the later stages of the program. Albert Wesker and Alexandra ‘Alex’ Wesker. The latter had only just survived a disease that should have killed her had it not been for the T-virus. She had no special abilities and was considered an abject failure and abandoned by the company as it fell apart. The woman was still alive, but otherwise, just… existed from what she could tell from the report.

Albert Wesker himself had been slated for execution for being considered a ‘failure.' Hence, the Tyrant, his own project, had attacked him during that infamous Arklay mission. Chris slammed the folder on the table, pulling Amara from her reading. She looked up at him worriedly. 

“You’re saying that Albert Wesker… was one of these kids?” Chris growled, glaring at the folder. “So what? He still betrayed us… he-”

“I know,” Lorraine said, holding up a hand to stop the brewing rant. "I know . The BSAA found out about Project W a while ago now. They set out to ensure no other children were being forced to endure something similar. In the process, they found out that Albert was alive. Not only alive but doing everything he could to tear Umbrella apart. The reason Umbrella even fell at all was because of his covert work after his supposed death. The BSAA and the UN were missing crucial pieces of information that he provided.”

"Just because he acted against Umbrella doesn’t mean a damned thing,” Chris snapped, hands clenching into fists. "And why wouldn't the BSAA tell us ?"

“Again, I understand your anger,” Lorraine said with a sigh. “As for why? Look at how you're reacting. If you’d been informed immediately, you likely would have gone on a personal mission to kill him without giving it a second thought.”

“I mean… that’s understandable, though, right?” Amara asked hesitantly. “He’s done so much, even if it was..."

She paused for a moment and then shook her head. 

"I only know a little bit about what happened," she continued. "Mostly what Chris himself has shared about the incident. He's killed so many!"

"Less than you think, but yes, he has killed on Umbrella's behalf. On his former slave owner's behalf," Lorraine said softly, placing her hands on the table, one on top of the other in a delicate pose. "Make no mistake, I am aware of his faults. Very much aware of them. But I chose to give him a chance when we met years ago."

Chris looked at her and then glared down at the table, jaw twitching. Lorraine let out another small sigh. 

"Look, from what I understand of the situation," Lorraine continued in a gentler tone, "the BSAA reached out to him to test the waters and see if he could be used as an asset. And this was after the United Nations gained control of the BSAA after that debacle with O'Brian."

Chris winced at the pointed look Lorraine gave him. Amara could understand why. The BSAA had almost imploded on itself early two-thousand and four. A huge mess of conspiracies and counter-conspiracies had almost ruined everything Chris, Jill, and the others had created. Chris had almost left the organization, but O’Brian’s ‘retirement’ and the new leadership under the UN itself had prompted him to stay. 

Leon reached over to give the brunette's shoulder a pat. Amara reached out as well to catch Chris' hand, offering him a reassuring squeeze. 

"The UN arranged for a BSAA Agent to act as his handler," she held up a hand when Chris opened his mouth. "Before you ask, no, I don't know who the handler is. I'm not cleared to know that. Not as an assistant manager and high-end aid for the scientists of TriCell. What I do know was that he was given leeway by the UN to work with my company, TriCell… and, well, that’s how I met him.”

“He’s dangerous ,” Chris said earnestly, leaning forward. He held up the short note included with the invite. “And this is bullshit. Why would he invite me to be his fucking best man when he betrayed us?”

Amara let out a startled noise at hearing that.

Seriously ? Wesker did what now?! she thought with wide eyes .

“An olive branch,” Lorraine responded with a faint smile. “At my insistence, really. We aren’t expecting you or any of the others to come to the wedding, but I insisted that he at least make an attempt.”

“Why?” Leon asked, voice bland but curious nonetheless. 

“Because I wasn’t joking when I called Umbrella a slave owner,” she said in a firm voice. "They stole children, broke their minds, and twisted them into the monsters they became. Most of them died on missions meant to kill them. Albert was no exception. He’s lucky to be alive."

Amara glanced back at the folder. She wasn't wrong. The evidence was there. But...

"And he did enjoy his time with the STARS unit," Lorraine continued, her voice softening some. "It was one of the few times he’d been allowed leeway by Umbrella to simply… exist... on his own for a time. Even his time in the Army was more heavily monitored than you'd think. STARS... was limited freedom that he had truly hoped would have lasted longer than what it did.”

"He could have told any of us on the team," Chris bit out through grit teeth. "We would have helped him. He didn't have to follow their orders like a damned dog the way you’re suggesting!”

"Didn't he?" Lorraine countered in a gentle tone. "Chris, please, understand, he was raised with several hundred other children to be killers. He saw firsthand what disobedience would get him if he stood against Umbrella's wishes. We have video recordings of what he and the others were put through."

The trio across from Lorraine all winced at the thought of what was on those videos. Chris' expression was still dark, but his eyes were filled with budding conflict. 

"You, all three of you, know that sort of shit gets ingrained in your head," she said with a small sigh. "You lose hope. And it's not easy to break those chains, even if you rescue someone when they're still a kid. And what could you have done? What power did you have as a member of STARS when the group was only two years old? None. Umbrella would have ended your entire team the second Albert showed signs of disobedience. You can’t deny that.”

“He threatened Barry’s family,” Chris said earnestly, leaning forward.

“ Umbrella threatened Barry’s family,” Lorraine said, with equal passion in her voice. “Albert just passed along the message from his owners .”

Lorraine leaned back, taking a slow breath to calm herself. She shook her head and looked up at them with earnest eyes full of sorrow and grief. 

"I’m not asking you to trust him. Even Albert knows better than to ask for that ,” Chris scoffed at her words, and Lorraine shot him a look that quieted him. “What I am asking is for you to give him a chance . When he was presumed dead, he took the chance to bring Umbrella to its knees rather than return to his masters. He took the chance to do something different when he found out the full details about Project W, and I am giving him a chance by letting him into my life.”

“And what if he hurts you?” Amara asked softly. “What if he’s just using you as a front? What if he kills you or experiments on you or… or….”

“Then the UN orders his death,” Lorraine responded with a shrug. “And Chris and Leon here will likely be the ones called in to hunt him. Albert didn’t have to tell me anything about his background, but I know… and I am choosing to treat him as a person. Gods, people have come back from worse paths than the one that Albert was forced onto. You need only look to the people who turned away from Nazi Germany after years of faithful, willing service who were granted amnesty when they defected. If they deserved a chance to repent, then why doesn’t Albert?”

Amara leaned back against her chair. Leon and Chris shared worried looks. Amara knew they were all thinking the same thing; Why couldn't Lorraine understand their concern? Yes, she had made a few good points, but still...

"A mask. A mask. A mask,” Amara muttered under her breath. “What pretty mask you wear. All shimmery and bright, making people blind with your stare. Look at the secrets you hide while being suave and debonair..."

Amara turned back to Lorraine, straightening her shoulders. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table. 

"I understand what you're saying about his past," she began in a rough tone. "And while many people have never gone through what he experienced, I feel like he still had free will. He chose to continue to act for them once he reached adulthood instead of leaving them. If everyone allowed the cruelty they’d experienced to devour them… then... then... No, I would have slit my own throat first."

The chill she'd felt the night before shivered through her. Why was Lorraine offering such a… a monster a second chance? Why was she putting herself in such danger? She was supposed to be Chris’ friend. Leon’s friend. And, loosely speaking, her own friend. Why was she so blind to the threat to her very life?

Her vision spotted for a moment, and she closed her eyes, shivering. The cold spread from her and... 

Chris’ hand closed on her left shoulder, Leon’s on her right, and Lorraine’s closed on her hand. A hand that was exuding ice from it!

Amara quickly yanked her hand away from Lorraine's. Her hand crashed into the cutlery next to her plate, and there was a sharp flash of pain. Fresh blood dripped down her palm. She stared at the injury, feeling numb. Leon and Chris were talking to her, but she couldn’t hear the words. 

She could only numbly watch as Lorraine risked freezing herself to tend to Amara’s wound. The guys fell silent, and she could make out that Lorraine… was singing? It was… a soothing, if haunting, song... 

“...no stranger would they be if we met, at midnight, in the hanging tree,” Lorraine was singing gently, soothingly. The way a mother or older sister would sing to a frightened sibling. It… felt nice. “Are you, are you, coming to the tree, wear a necklace of hope, side-by-side with me. Strange things have happened here. No stranger would they be if we met, at midnight, in the hanging tree~... There we go… all better now.”

Lorraine gave her hand a pat. Amara glanced down to see that her hand had been skillfully bandaged. Worry pulsed through her, emotion coming back in a rush as she grabbed Lorraine's hand in turn. The skin was chilled but showed no signs of damage. She let go and relaxed back in her seat, and let out a relieved sigh. She stood a moment later. 

“I'm sorry… and thank you… but,” Amara took another ragged breath, feeling her phone start to vibrate in her pocket as she came to a stop next to Lorraine. She hesitantly put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. "Your choices are your own. I worry, but I won't tell you how you live your life. Just remember you always have a choice in what you do. And… remember that you have friends?"

“I will,” Lorraine said with a smile. “I know I can count on Chris and Leon to help me if I need it.”

“Okay… I… Okay,” Amara reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone with a huff. Who was trying to call her...?

Oh, god no.

It was her ex. 

How the hell had he gotten her cell number? She hadn’t used a landline since she got it and had hoped that he wouldn’t find her. It had been years now since he’d last tried to chase her down. Before she could panic, Lorraine was in front of her, gently pulling the Nokia from her shaking grasp. The other woman answered the phone before she could stop her. 

“Hello? This is Lorraine Kvale. How may I help you?” she said in one of the best customer service voices that Amara had heard.

“Who the hell is this?!” 

Amara heard the shout even though the phone was at Lorraine's ear, and she winced. 

“I’m sorry, but if you cannot be bothered to moderate your tone, sir, I will end this call,” the brunette said, her expression cooling and her voice turning chilly. 

It was not a change Amara had expected to see in the kindly woman. But then, most people didn’t appreciate being yelled at like that, especially for no reason. Chris moved up behind Amara, Leon stepping up next to her and catching her hand in his own. The voice on the phone lowered to a more genial tone, and Lorraine hummed softly in response to what was being said. 

Amara shivered, and Leon wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Lorraine hummed again in a faux-sympathetic tone and shot the trio next to her a disgusted look. She then rolled her eyes and let out another hum.  

“I am so sorry to hear that you’re going through such a difficult time, Mr. Richardson,” she said, flashing them an exaggerated pout that almost made Amara laugh despite the fear pulsing in her stomach and threatening to make her sick. “But I’m afraid I don’t know the person you’re talking about. I got this phone number, oh, about six months ago now? Mmhmm… yeah, I’ve been getting a lot of calls for Ms. Garner. Oh? Garcia? Sorry, yes, I suppose that was the name. Yes...? No. No. Oh, I understand what you’re saying, but I’m afraid I’m too busy to bother with such things. Why?”

Amara blinked as Lorraine’s smile turned outright feral. 

“Because I work with the government, Mr. Richardson,” Lorraine blinked and then chuckled softly as the man’s voice rose again. She tapped her nails against the table, purposefully looking at Leon as her grin widened. Fangs wouldn’t have looked out of place on the woman just then. “Ah, I thought I recognized your name. Richard Richardson, Senator of New Jersey. I’m surprised you’re trying to threaten someone who works directly with members of the President’s Security detail… Ah, now you understand. Good boy .”

Amusement filled her, and then just as quickly was chased away by fear. More than one person had just disappeared after mocking the Senator. 

“Now, I’m going to respectfully ask that you never call this number again,” Lorraine said, steel in her voice, “or I will report your number to the authorities. Mhmm… mhmm… Dick, may I call you Dick? Of course, I can. I want you to understand that, despite the wonderful list of connections that you just spouted at me, I wasn’t lying about my ties to the President’s Security detail. Do you know Agent Leon Kennedy? Ah, wonderful. I know him, too. He's a good friend of mine. Now… would you like the good Agent Kennedy to come to pay you a visit to address the blatant breach of protocol, open attempts at bribery, and the open threat to my person ? Hm…? No? I thought not. Now be a good boy, tuck that little tail of yours between your legs, and fuck off .”

Lorraine ended the call with a sneer, taking a calming breath and pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked at the phone for a moment before passing it back to Amara. 

“I’m going to make a serious offer,” she began in a gentle voice. “I’d like you to transfer your phone account into my name, but you can keep using the phone.”

“I was going to offer to get her a more secure line,” Leon said before Amara could say anything. 

"Won't work for long," Lorraine said with a wince and a shake of her head. "Mr. Richardson may be the New Jersey Senator, but he also has ties to the military and security branches of the US, as you are no doubt aware. I’d put him on your list of people to ‘investigate’ as soon as possible, especially as he threatened to ‘end my career, my family's careers, and my life’ for daring to ‘insult’ his precious pride. He’s dirty. No doubt about that .”

Tears gathered in her eyes, and it was hard not to let them fall. Shame filled her. She hated how her past was coming back to haunt her. Again. Hadn't dying once already been enough of a punishment...? She looked up at Lorraine and let out a watery laugh.

"A mask. A mask. A mask. What pretty mask you wear. All shimmery and bright, making people blind with your stare. Look at the secrets you hide while being suave and debonair..." she said with a pained smile, feeling just a little crazed. "He was my 'slave owner,' as you put it. He’s the knife that slit my throat and forced me to wear a pretty mask..."

She swallowed roughly and darted out of the building, feeling nauseous. She stopped next to the Jeep, reaching out to brace herself against the cold metal. Shame and sorrow felt like it was going to devour her entire being. She no longer felt safe. She no longer... Chris walked up behind her, keeping a few feet of distance between them. 

“Hey…” Chris began in a soothing voice. “Is it safe to touch you, Firebrand?”

Rather than answer, she wrapped her arms around her waist and nodded her head. His arms wrapped around her from behind, and he tucked her head under his chin. She slowly melted into his touch. 

“Leon and Lorraine are talking things over about your phone,” Chris began in a gentle tone. “I’d suggest taking Lorraine’s offer. That way, this asshole thinks you have a different number and wastes his time looking in all the wrong places. At this point, I’m just glad he doesn’t have clearance to know anything about the BSAA and its Agents. We’re going to take care of this, okay?”

Amara bit her lower lip, letting the tears fall as she nodded her head. Her head was pounding. It was like everything that she'd achieved for herself had been all for nothing. She didn't even understand why he was trying to find her again. What reason could he possibly have? She started slightly when Leon cleared his throat from somewhere nearby. Both she and Chris turned to look over at the other male, seeing Lorraine standing there as well with a sad smile on her lips. 

"I put my number into your phone in case you need to reach me. If you want, I can call you later to have your cell phone account transferred into my name," Lorraine said, passing Amara's phone back to her. "We can even switch the payment and address on file too, so everything looks on the up and up if he tries to dig into things. But Leon and I think that you need to be hidden a little deeper behind the metaphorical walls of BSAA and TriCell. 

“I’ll be getting in contact with my own team,” Leon said in a dark tone. “If he’s willing to threaten people with impunity, then he’s confident that he’s safe. Which makes him an easier target than you’d think.”

Leon reached out to brush his fingers over Amara's cheek. 

“Don’t worry, my Yuki-onna,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Asshole’s like him are chump-change compared to us.”

Deep in her heart, she feared nothing could be done. Her ex was relentless when he wanted something. He could manipulate people so easily. All Amara could do was offer Leon a faint smile of gratitude for his words. Lorraine went over a few more things with the guys, but Amara wasn’t really paying attention. Chris got into the back of the Jeep with her, holding her close as Leon took them to their next destination. 

Chapter Text

The jet touched down at the Westchester County Airport with little fanfare shortly after dawn the day after the park incident. The whole trip had left me feeling a little ill, and I wasn't looking forward to the flight back. Still, needs must and all that. Ugh. At least the airports closer to New York had all been shut down thanks to the Mayor calling for an evacuation. It meant that there was no traffic to fight against while leaving the tarmac. 

Wesker had ensured that a nice, sleek Star Rider motorcycle awaited me in the airport parking lot rather than a limo. One, a limo and driver would have been a tad noticeable given I was supposed to be here on a quick in and out mission. Two, I absolutely loved motorcycles. I had two Harley's in my garage back home. I drove one, and the other was a rebuild project that I worked on when I needed some downtime. 

Honestly, a motorcycle would make it so much easier to maneuver about the city, given how many vehicles had been outright abandoned because of the call to evac the area. The drive into the city proper took about thirty minutes. The plan was to meet up at a location that I'd sent to Chris and Leon. A small diner that my parents had run during my youth in my old world. It had been bought out back home, and we had moved to another state, but the building was still up and still in use. 

I'd looked into the building and was doing well. Familiar, despite all the differences between the two realms. Hopefully, I'd get there before the trio. I had a small urge to cook and could make a mean breakfast that was to die for. 

Not literally to die for, but still.

I wondered if the building had the same outdated lock...

I put in my phone's earpiece and then slid on the helmet that had come with the bike, grateful that I didn't need specialized shades to hide my eyes, not yet at any rate. I knew the virus was already doing its job. I was already a little bit faster when I ran or jogged. Already a little bit faster, given that I accidentally dented my doorknob. But it hadn't needed to kick into high gear the way it had for Wesker when he got stabbed by the Tyrant. So... no dragon eyes. At least not for a while yet. Pity. I thought they were nice. Pretty and dangerous. Which was what Wesker was.

My phone rang as I was en route to the diner. I pulled over briefly to answer it, ensuring it connected to my earpiece before pulling back onto the road. 

"Kvale," I answered, having not bothered to check who it was. It was either Wesker or someone from the main office. 

"Lorraine," Wesker said, and I blinked as I swerved around a car in the middle of the street. "I won't be needing you to pick up a sample from the BOW that Ms. Garcia took down. One of my other agents was able to safely procure one."

"Makes my trip shorter, so that works," I said with a dry chuckle. 

"Indeed," he said, and I could hear him typing away in the background. "Ms. Garcia's powers are evolving. Ice now, and not just fire. She froze the BOW last night."

"Huh," I blinked at that, thoughts racing. "Well, that's interesting. Do you think it's because of the proximity to Eve or just a natural evolution of the ability?"

"Given how quickly the ability appeared, I believe it to be related to Eve's presence in the area," he responded. I'd almost have said he sounded excited. Not, you know, openly so, but there was a change in his voice that meant he was on the verge of a breakthrough in a project or had gotten an idea for a new project entirely. "A defensive mechanism brought about by an immediate threat. It will be interesting to see if there will be further developments in her abilities. Officer Brea is already showing signs of being just as exceptional."

"Did you need me to try to get a sample from the Officer as well?" I asked hesitantly, trying to think of how I could manage that. 

"No," he said firmly. "Just from Ms. Garcia. It would be too suspicious for you to approach Officer Brea as well at this time. I have other options for obtaining a sample from the NYPD Officer. Do not deviate from the current plan."

"Alright. Anything else?" I asked, taking a sharp turn. 

"I should be scolding you for speeding," he said with an amused huff. "But no. Nothing else. We'll talk more on your return."

He ended the call before I could say anything more, and I let out a bemused huff. He'd never been one for saying goodbye. Only 'we'll talk later' or something similar to that effect. I shook my head and focused on driving. 

I pulled up next to the diner and took off the helmet, looking around. Nice. The first one on-site. Smiling, I parked the motorcycle and headed over to the diner door, looking the lock over. A small huff escaped me. Perfect, it really was the same old lock. It always amused me when I stumbled across an overlap between the worlds, and this was no different. I gave the lock a hard knock and jiggled the handle just so. The door opened, the bell above jingling merrily. Chuckling, I pulled the bells free and walked into the building, unlocking the door and closing it behind me. 

From the look of things, the owners had just restocked the fridges. Perfect. It was easy enough to gather up the supplies needed to cook up enough food for four people. Though really, it was more like eight. Chris and Leon had larger appetites ever since the Raccoon City incident. They could still function on a normal diet, true, and could even go for longer periods without eating, but I wasn't about to under-feed them. They needed every advantage I could give them, even if that was just a simple home-cooked meal alongside the inhibitors that TriCell had developed. 

A simple breakfast would do well enough. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes… and I was a pretty good home cook if I did say so myself. 

Chris, Leon, and Amara arrived shortly after I'd finished preparing the bulk of the food. Given that Amara had finished off that BOW the night before with a new ability, she likely needed all the carbs and protein she could handle. I almost laughed when they set down to eat. Every time Amara looked away, Leon or Chris subtly put a little more food onto her plate. They also did the same to each other. 

It was adorable. 

Advising the two men about what was going on with their own bodies went surprisingly well. Yes, they were upset, but it looked like they were willing to take it up with the higher-ups rather than take it out on the messenger. That was good. After passing on the inhibitors, I leaned back and let out a sigh. 

This next part would be a gamble and a half. There was no avoiding an eruption from Chris. I may have joked about marriage, but the ring on my finger meant that Wesker had been planning for such a scenario. Making things known to Chris and Leon now would also help in our efforts to 'humanize' Wesker to the UN and the BSAA. Well... time to bite the bullet, yeah?

“On to happier news!” I said, forcing myself to sound cheerful and knowing that my efforts fell a bit flat. Fuck, I was nervous. "These are for you!”

I had prepared three invites and three folders, knowing that all three would arrive at the meeting. Amara was a close enough 'friend' that I felt comfortable giving her an invite as well. I wasn't about to send anything out to Jill or the others. Not yet, anyway. I had no doubts that the kindest response I'd get from them was a dull 'congrats,' and the worst would likely be a scathing 'what the hell are you thinking?!' Best to test the waters with these three first and proceed from there. I took out three folders after handing them the invites. 

“Read the invites first,” I said as gently as possible. “I’ll give you the folders in a moment. I know there's going to be... opinions ...”

The expected explosion from Chris the Volcano came and went. I got a plethora of responses from them ranging from disbelief, to shock, to the expected shouting and, surprisingly, a voice of reason in the form of one Leon Kennedy. But then again, Leon had dealt with having to rescue child soldiers trapped by a bunch of scientists before as a DSO agent, so he, out of everyone there, knew how hard it was to help people who had been through what Wesker had been forced to endure as a child. 

I was just glad that Wesker had given me the go-ahead to tell them about Project W in full. Leon knew some of what had happened. His ties with the President meant he had access to information that Chris sometimes wasn't authorized to have. But even Leon hadn't known the full story. 

Leon also knew that Wesker had a handler. And, I mean, technically, he did. It was just that the handler was on Wesker’s payroll and not the UN’s. It was a typical front. You know, the usual cock-and-bull story about a bad guy becoming something more along the lines of an Anti-hero. Helping to save the day and all that, but still not… good . 

I wouldn't say that the conversation went well. But the point hadn't been to change their minds. I had just needed to make them doubt . In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised to see Chris show up to the wedding just to dispute it and be a contrary ass. Odd it might be, but I considered him a good friend. 

Even if he thought I was being an idiot... 

And I got the blood sample I needed from Amara thanks to that little conversation too. 

Her enthusiastic concern over the situation, with my safety, certainly took me by surprise. She was just as lovely a gal as I'd thought her to be. She was caring, gentle, protective, but she was also a little bit of a nervous wreck thanks to her powers acting up the way they were. The loss of control was a little surprising but not entirely unexpected, all things considered. Ice spread out over the plates and silverware in front of her.

"Amara!" Chris yelped, pulling back a bit as the ice spread over his own plate. "Calm down!"

"Yuki-onna!" Leon said, giving her arm a small shake. It was cute that he already had a nickname for her. 

Rather than say anything, I went in for the kill, so to speak. Amara's kind nature meant that she'd be more likely to reign in her powers if she thought she was about to hurt someone. So... I grabbed her hand. As I expected, her eyes lost the dull glaze, and she wrenched her hand out from under mine, scraping her hand over the knife she'd been using to eat and reopening the wound on her hand. 

Easy-peasy getting the sample after that, a bit of cloth to clean the wound and help her dress it, and boom. I had the sample tucked away before they could notice. 

The call from the Senator certainly took me by surprise, though. Seeing her go so pale when she checked her phone had me standing and gently taking the phone from her. That kind of reaction wasn't a good one. Talking to the Senator left a bad taste in my mouth. Amara had a darker past than I’d thought possible for such a sweet little thing. It was also odd that I felt so immediately protective of her, but then again, there were very few times when I knew that I could act with impunity to get something I wanted to do done.

Handling one corrupt Senator with no ties to Wesker and his affiliates, and thus not at risk of blabbing about shit he shouldn’t as he tried to save his own skin, meant that I could use our contacts and feed Leon the information he needed to end the shit-stain that was Richard Richardson of New Jersey. And all on the up and up too! 

I saw the trio off with a smile and well-wishes for the fights ahead, but my smile fell away the moment they were gone. Their concern for me was touching. It really was. Honestly, I had no idea where I might have been by now had I been able to safely get away from Wesker and out of Haven City. Or if I would have been able to try to build a life of my own after getting somewhere safe. 

No. That was an impossible pipe dream, and I knew it. 

I had arrived with nothing. I was no-one as far as the U.S. systems were concerned. No valid ID. No valid SSN. No valid VISA. No money to my name. No contacts that I could trust to help me rebuild. Nothing.

The best I could have expected if I had been on my own was a life on the streets. Jobs required background checks that I simply could not pass. If I tried, I’d be arrested as an illegal immigrant, for all that I was a native US citizen on my version of Earth. If I was caught and deported, there was nowhere I could go and legally stay either. 

The three might tell me to leave Wesker. To find someone else. To not trust him. But...

I was his creature, for better or worse, and I'd made that choice years ago. I may not be beaten, bloodied, or abused… but I was still living in the pretty, gilded cage that he’d built for me. It was still his to do with as he pleased, as he had already proven by... altering me so. By claiming me so. I looked down at the lovely ring on my ring finger, with its hidden trackers, and who knew what else… 

“Pretty words, my friends,” I muttered softly to myself, knowing that Wesker would likely hear me through the mic in my shades. “But even if I wanted to, I can’t. I know who I belong to...”

Chapter Text

Leon pulled the Jeep out onto the road and turned to head back to the hotel. Amara sat in the back of the vehicle with Chris, her arms wrapped around her legs as she curled in against the larger male's side. His arm was wrapped firmly, comfortingly around her shoulders and her head rested on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat and, despite feeling numb inside, it was a comfort. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. 

Thankfully, despite feeling so cold inside, she wasn't exuding frost again like she had earlier. She wasn't a danger to them. Didn't want to be a danger to them. If anyone looked at her face just then, she imagined that they would think that she was some sort of doll. Chris gave her a small shake, kissing the top of her head and looking down at her before looking toward the front of the vehicle. 

“Hey,” he said, tapping Leon on the shoulder. “Turn up the heat. Her skin’s still cold to the touch.”

“Got it,” Leon reached over and flipped the switch back up to max. “Any frost?”

“Not at the moment,” Chris responded with a shake of his head. “It’s like she’s put herself into a small trance.”

“Need me to pull over?” Leon asked, glancing over his shoulder at Chris briefly. 

“Nah, keep heading to the hotel,” Chris started running circles over her back. “Amara? Come on, Firebrand, it’s gonna be okay. Talk to me, please?”

"What is up with you and Leon giving me strange nicknames?" she asked with a huff of weak laughter. 

“There you are,” Chris said with a relieved sigh. He kissed the crown of her head and then shrugged. “And because they suit you? And we tend to give people nicknames. You know how things are. Nicknames are just… what we do. Unless you don’t like them and want us to stop?”

"No, no, you're fine," she said with a rough chuckle, leaning into him. "I just... it amuses me that you're comparing me to a brand of whiskey, and Leon thinks of me as a snow woman that feeds on weary travelers. But... it's unique, and... and it makes me happy."

“Wasn’t thinking of the alcohol when I thought of that,” Chris said with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And I was thinking of a story I heard while in Aomori,” Leon said over his shoulder. “They have a legend about the Yuki-onna there where she comes to the village on the third day of Shōgatsu and then returns to the mountains on the first day of Rabbit. Whenever that is. Supposedly, depending on how late the ‘day of the Rabbit’ is will affect how well the harvest goes, so the later, the better, from what I understood. So…?”

"Uh-huh. Regardless, I don't mind the nicknames,” Amara responded with a faint smile. She had to stifle a yawn and then frowned at how full she felt. “Ugh... I feel fat…"

“Why in the hell-heck would you say that?” Chris asked with a surprised jerk of his body. “You’re fit as fu-heck!”

“ Now he’s learning how to censor himself,” Leon muttered from the front seat. “I scold you for years about that mouth of yours and the trouble it gets you into, and yet Amara gets you to behave?”

“Fuck you, dude,” Chris shot back with a pout. 

“Later,” Leon laughed, winking at them in the mirror. “Once we’re off the clock. I’m sure Amara would love to see us having fun.”

"Y-you can cuss around me, Chris. I don't mind," Amara said, feeling her cheeks heat up. She met Leon's eyes in the mirror and let out a huff. "And I'll plead the fifth to that comment, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Oof, harsh. I think we have our work cut out for us trying to impress our gal,” Chris said, grinning at Leon.

Leon shot her a saucy look in the mirror that had her ducking her head against Chris' chest. She coughed into her hand.

"And as for why I feel fat... well, I guess I just feel like I ate too much," she said in a self-deprecating tone. "I know I'm as fit as I can get. I just... I know I'm a little bigger than other women."

“Firebrand, Amara, I need you to listen to me," Chris said, looking down at her and giving her side a gentle poke. "You’re healthy and fit and hot as fuck. Don’t go thinking otherwise.”

"I'll try," she said, meeting his earnest gaze. She smiled again, a faint twitch of her lips. She wanted to believe him. 

“Good, now-” the police radio on the dash interrupted Chris, and they all tensed.

“-anyone here me!?” a female voice, desperate and panic-filled. “We need help! Now! There’s a BOW attack ongoing at the NYPD station! We need help! Some-”

There was a staticky cry, and the radio went silent. Leon cursed and slammed his foot down on the gas, causing Amara and Chris to jolt back in their seats. They both let out startled yelps. Amara could feel the increase of speed and began to shiver in fear as she clung to Chris's side. She could handle high speeds when she was the one driving. When she was the one in control. But this...? Chris’ arm tightened around her in response to a small whimper that spilled past her lips, and he kicked the back of the driver’s seat.

“Fuckin’ slow down!” he barked at the other man.

“Not when there’s a chance we can get there to save someone!” Leon snapped back. 

“This isn’t Raccoon City, Agent Kennedy!” Chris snapped, back in full ‘Captain’ mode. “We aren’t going to be saving anyone if you make us crash!”

"Please slow down a bit…." Amara whimpered, trying to keep her voice level. 

“I…” Leon glanced at them and swore, forcing himself to slow down a bit. His hands were tight enough on the steering wheel that his knuckles had gone white. “Sorry. Both of you. I just…”

“Bad memories,” Chris said, his tone more conciliatory. Soothing. “I get it, man, but don’t panic. You know better.”

"Thank you for slowing down, Leon," Amara said with a tiny, thoroughly relieved sigh. She looked up at Chris and mumbled softly. "Sorry for squeezing the life out of you."

“That’s okay. It takes more than that to leave me winded,” Chris said, giving her a reassuring squeeze and an absolutely lewd grin. 

“For fuck’s sake Redfield,” Leon groused from the front. “Can you focus ?”

“We’re ten minutes out!” Chris whined playfully. “Let me have some fun teasing you two! I’m stressed too, you know!”

"You can make with the dirty talk later, Captain," she said, giggling and blushing at their antics. She leaned up and placed a quick kiss on Chris' cheek. "Keep focused."

Amara frowned abruptly. If they were heading into a fight, it was best to get an inventory of their gear before arriving at the precinct. She pushed away from Chris and unbuckled before leaning over the back seat. She dug through the neatly stacked cases, muttering under her breath as she examined what ammo they had. 

Chris let out a choked noise, or maybe it was Leon because the car swerved to the side briefly. She yipped, and Chris caught her around the waist before she could move more than an inch. She heard the distinct sound of Chris kicking the back of the driver’s seat again.

“Eyes on the fucking road, Kennedy!” the brunette shouted.

“They were!” Leon barked back, sounding annoyed. “Or did you NOT just see that police cruiser almost plow into us on the right?!”

“Uhhhh…” Chris responded eloquently, and she glanced over to see that the brunette had gone bright red. 

“The fuck are you ‘uh’ing about-OH!” Leon broke off and let out a strangled noise. “ Okay then ! Not looking back again. Eyes on the road. Right.”

Honestly, those two. Even when barrelling straight for a threat, they could still find time for banter. Well, she could play that game too. Amara let out a faint groan as she turned to look over her shoulder. 

"Are you both alright?" she asked in an innocent tone. "I was just checking our supplies. It looks like we have enough for the fight ahead of us, but we probably want to resupply afterward."

Amara grabbed her replacement body vest and pushed back to slide back onto the seat, wincing as her chest caught against the top of the seat. She winced again and rubbed at her chest briefly before slipping into the vest and fastening it into place. 

"Why the fuck am I cursed with such big tits," she cursed as she carefully arranged the girls so they weren't pinched. 

"They’re nice tits,” Chris countered immediately, staring at her with a blush painting his cheeks a charming pink. 

“Chris. Gutter,” Leon scolded from the driver's seat in a strained voice. 

“Dude!” Chris said in a ‘you know I’m right’ tone.

Giggling softly, Amara finished settling the vest into place and leaned forward to wrap her arms around Leon's shoulder from behind. Leaning in over the back, she placed a quick kiss on Leon's cheek. As she pulled back, she nipped at his ear, making him shiver. 

“Amara…” Leon said, his voice strained. “N-now isn’t the time. We’re on the way to an emergency .”

“I’m sure as fuck enjoying the show,” Chris said, leaning against Amara’s side and kissing her neck in turn. “But he’s got the point. We can save this for after we save the day. Yeah? Reward for all of us."

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all as she ran her fingers through his hair before sitting back. 

Amara leaned in to give Chris a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting across from him and glancing out the window as the streets zipped by them. A wave of melancholy hit her. Why the hell was she acting like a woman starved of attention on such an important mission? Why was she- Chris growled next to her and leaned in close, lips brushing against her ear. 

“I can see your expression in the window,” he murmured softly. “None of that now. You’re hot as fuck, and that was hot as fuck. We’re going to ask you later to join us in the bedroom or wherever we have a chance to let loose… and god damn, I hope you say yes, but it's your choice.”

Amara laughed weakly and turned to face Chris, her lips mere centimeters from his own. Warmth flooded through her, though it had nothing to do with her powers. 

"How could I possibly say ‘no’ to the two of you…?” she asked, a little breathless by the close proximity. “I find it a bit unfair…."

“Amara,” Chris leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her own with a serious look in his eyes. “You can always tell us ‘no,’ and we’ll back off. I need you to understand that, okay?”

"I know, Chris. You and Leon are a rare breed of men," she began, pulling away and tracing a kiss across his cheek and to his ear. Her voice fell into a velvety whisper. “But it's not fair that I have to fight back images of you and Leon having your way with me and having to constantly feel wet while you both can look oh so calm and unaffected…."

Chris groaned low in his throat, turning to nip at her nose playfully. She pulled back with a soft laugh, but he leaned in and pulled her into a tight hug before releasing her.

“Firebrand,” he purred softly, his voice a low, grave sound that made her feel tingly. “If we weren’t on the way to a fire-fight, I’d be showing you just how ‘affected’ I am by your sass.”

“Tuck it away, guys,” Leon called from the front as the vehicle started to slow. His voice still sounded strained. “We’re a minute out, and there’s a roadblock ahead we’re going to have to walk past. Pretty sure I see your friend by an abandoned cruiser, Amara.”

Leon parked the Jeep, and she was quick to hop out to loop around the back of the vehicle to grab some spare ammo for her gun. Letting out a hum of sound, she gave Chris one last quick kiss before pulling back. Chris followed, doing the same. As Leon stepped around the back to also load up, she quickly seized her chance and grabbed him, pulling him down into a quick and heated kiss for good luck. Amara pulled away and ignored his flustered stutter, and grabbed her spare gun and holster before darting for Tsukiko. 

"Ah! Garcia-san! I'm glad you and your… boyfriends? Which, by the way, I want all the details later," Tsukiko whispered to her with a small grin. The smile faded as she continued, tone growing serious. "You'd best be quick. Brea-San, Dollis-San, and Onii-san entered the building. Eve attacked while the four of us were speaking to Dr. Klamp at the museum, and we rushed over here as soon as possible. Dollis-San would have stayed out here with us to wait for you, but he heard that his son was inside from another officer. Brea-San followed him shortly afterward."

"Alright. Will you be okay out here? I don't want you to get hurt," Amara asked in a concerned voice. 

"Yes. I'll be fine," Tsukiko said resolutely, patting her leg. "I still have my combat knife, and I know how to stay out of trouble after the last time."

"Good to hear," Chris said, coming up beside them. "Regardless, I'm going to have to ask you to withdraw to a safe spot a few buildings back. I'd rather there not be any incidents with friendly fire. We have no idea what's inside the building."

"Speaking of, were you able to see what we might be facing before Officers Brea and Dollis went inside?" Leon asked, expression blank.

"I am afraid not, Kennedy-San," Tsukiko said, looking apologetically at Leon. "Onii-san should be inside by the front desk. He might have more answers for you."

"Thanks for the information," Chris glanced at Amara, tilting his head toward the entrance. "You good to rumble, or do you need to stay out here Firebrand?"

"Let's go. I have a very bad feeling, and I don't want to leave Officer Brea alone," Amara said before glancing back at Tsukiko. She gave the other woman a nod before heading toward the entrance.

"Same feeling from before in the park?" Leon asked, keeping pace with her, gun ready in his hands.

"Yes. Though slightly different? I don't think Eve is actually here , like last time, but something is happening," Amara replied, readying her rifle. 

She moved to the side of the precinct door and paused. Chris nodded, passing her and taking point as they started into the main entrance of the building. Their rapid-fire movements to breach and clear the room startled Maeda. The man let out a high-pitched squeak and froze with his hands held up in the air as they darted around him. 

"Are you alright, Maeda?" Amara asked as Leon and Chris continued toward the next set of double doors, past the destroyed receptionist desk.

"Y-Yes, Garcia-san! M-may I put my hands down?" he asked, voice trembling.

Amara nodded and lightly patted his arm as she moved past him. Maeda dropped his hands to his sides and let out a relieved sigh. Before she could join the others, Maeda grabbed her arm. 

"We have information that might b-be crucial to what's h-happening here," he began, letting her go and wringing his hands nervously. "B-but Aya-san and Dominic-san have already headed deeper inside, and there were things… giant spiders the size of dogs and rats, and actual weird-looking dog men things! S-some of the other o-officers… it's not good."

"That's why we're here. Go outside and wait with Tsukiko. We'll take it from here," Amara told him, giving him a reassuring look. He nodded rapidly and bolted outside.

"Clear!" Leon called from one of the side rooms while Chris watched his back. "Alright, that's all the front rooms. Amara, did Maeda say anything?"

"Giant spiders and rats, and weirdly shaped 'dog men things,' from what he said," Amara responded, her expression darkening. "No idea how many, though."

The guys shared equally dark looks and nodded. Chris again took point as they started down the main hallway of the station. Amara took the middle, and Leon brought up the rear. As they checked the hallway to the left, Amara signaled at the downed form of an officer. Chris nodded, signaling her to check as Leon and Chris moved to cover her. She nodded and darted down the hall toward the still form... 

Only to freeze as a cold feeling hit her. 

The air suddenly tasted wrong to her. It was a weird feeling. Like she could almost sense something, a threat , nearby. As Leon and Chris slowly advanced on her position, she felt as if there was something vile... above their head. Reacting on instinct, she spun about and shoved both men backward just as they reached her. Two large, gooey-looking spiders with blade-like legs fell from the ceiling as the men staggered backward. 

Amara tried to dodge to the side, but one of the bladed legs clipped into the upper meat of her left arm. Leon had rolled with her shove, getting back to his feet and firing at the creature closest to him. Chris let out a curse, raising his rifle and unloading a series of controlled bursts of gunfire right into the face of one closest to him. Chris’ spider fell with a death screech while Leon's darted for Amara, thinking her an easy target given the injury.

She quickly hefted her own rifle, ignoring the pain flaring along her arm as she fired at the one charging her. The shots hit the main bulk of the creature. It let out one last screech before falling down, curling up like most spiders do when dying. Warmth pulsed through her, and she winced, one hand raising up toward her arm. She could feel the wound closing up beneath her fingers, but it stung a bit. 

Leon moved to her side, first aid spray in his hand, and he paused, tilting her arm this way and that to inspect the wound.

“You’re healing faster than even the first aid spray would work,” Leon muttered in a low voice. “This new?”

“That fast?” Chris said, moving over to glance at the wound before turning his attention back on the hall. “She’s always healed quickly, but not that fast. It's new.”

"I'm alright," she said, blinking. She felt a little drained. She shook her head and looked at the two men. "Are you two okay? Those bladed legs of theirs got pretty close to you when they fell.”

“We’re fine,” Chris responded with a grin. 

“Winded, but fine,” Leon said, tucking away the first aid spray and starting down the hall. “Chris, keep an eye out above us. Amara, are you sensing anything else?”

"Sec..." she said, closing her eyes and focusing on the area around them. 

It was so very strange, reaching out like this. Amara could feel several things around her. Wrong. Foul. Sickening . There was an oppressive feeling from beneath her as if there were several things just like the spiders directly beneath their feet. She let out a noise and pointed down and to the side toward the largest cluster.

“That way?” she said, tilting her head with a frown. “There’s a bunch of them beneath us.”

“Why the hell is it always the basements…?” Leon groused next to her. 

“Basements and rooftops, Leon,” Chris said in a conciliatory tone. “Basements and rooftops.”

Amara let out a small laugh at the banter but promptly quelled it. They had work to do. She walked to the still form of the officer, expecting the worst as she felt for a pulse. She jolted with surprise at the feeling of a thready, weak pulse beneath her fingers. 

"Chris! Leon! She's alive!" she called back to them over her shoulder. 

“Well, there’s some fucking good news,” Chris said as he moved over to provide cover while Leon again pulled out the first aid spray and medkit. 

Leon carefully looked the woman over, grimacing as he pulled away the armor enough to show a massive gash along the woman's side. Amara had to agree that the wound looked bad. The woman had been mauled by… something . Not a spider, no. The bites were more canine in nature. Leon was quick to patch the woman up, and Amara helped him get the woman settled over his back in a fireman's carry. 

“I’ll get her outside with the civvies,” Leon said, looking up at them. “You two are going to wait here?”

“No. We’ll cover your six as we backtrack,” Chris said in a firm tone. “Let’s go, Kennedy.”

Chris and Amara backed up slowly back the way they came, Leon carrying the officer quickly but carefully to safety. Piers and Dominic darted into the building as they reached the main area with several BSAA soldiers on their heels. Thank goodness. Backup. Amara wanted to hug Dominic but firmly quelched the desire. Veronica darted in last, helping Leon set the injured officer in as secure a spot as they could make. 

"Bloody hell,” she said, looking over the quick patch job Leon had done. “Not good, but not bad either. Go on, the boys. I'll handle things from here. You find any more survivors, bring them out here, and we'll get them triaged and routed as needed."

Chris let out a huff at the older woman's briskness before nodding and leading Leon and Amara back into the building. Chris once more took point while Piers and Dominic flanked them. Amara felt a small line of tension drain from her shoulders. Knowing that she had the other two at her back helped ease her nerves. 

“We got any idea what to look out for?” Dominic asked. 

“Giant spiders confirmed,” Chris called back over his shoulder. “Possibly giant rats and then ‘dogmen,’ whatever the hell those are.”

“Fuck, dude. Spiders? Really?” Piers asked with a shudder. “Can I call out sick, boss?”

“Hold your post, Piers,” Chris responded with a snort as he led them to the hallway that had the basement entrance. 

As they slowly made their way down the stairs, Amara could feel that pressure growing in her skull. That acrid taste upon her tongue grew stronger, and she contained the urge to spit to the side. The group kept their weapons on a swivel as they moved deeper down the hall to the basement entrance. There was an open door with a cabinet on its side, partially blocking the entrance, and as she passed it, she felt that pressure flare...

She tried to spin to the side, but something slammed into her. 

Hard. 

Her left shoulder hit the far wall, forcing a tiny wheeze of pain past her lips. Looking up at what hit her, she was greeted by a horrid sight. The thing indeed appeared to be dog-like, yet, it was walking upright like a Human on its hind legs. Unlike a werewolf of legend, the thing before her was a twisted amalgamation of man and beast. The head alone was as if someone had jammed the bottom halves of a human face and a dog together. Its muscles were bulging and overly large and bloody patches of human flesh and animal fur. 

Amara managed to scramble to her feet, rolling out of the way of a clawed attack as the others opened fire on its back. A whining howl of pain, sounding like a twisted mix of a dog and a human, filled the air. Leon got to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back and to the side around cover as Chris and the others unloaded their weapons into the thing. 

She might have taken aim herself, but she was frozen in shock at the sight of an upside-down Human face appeared right in the center of the creature's chest.  

“Jesus! Put it down, Chris!” Leon shouted in her ear. 

Through the haze of fear, she noticed the twisted remnants of a human officer... and a K-nine's uniform. A wave of sorrow and rage filled her, followed by a wave of heat . A heat that she'd gotten used to over the years ever since that first incident shortly after she turned twenty-nine. Fire bloomed on the limbs of the creature, forcing it to let out another, unholy dual-toned screech of sound. The fire spread quickly, engulfing it entirely within moments until finally, finally , it fell silent. The poor creatures, likely a paired team who had tried to fight off Eve's creatures or Eve herself, were put out of their joint misery.

"Amara!" Leon's voice came to her as if from down a tunnel, and she felt him shift her around to look at her arm. 

He used the first aid spray this time, and she could see why. Her body was healing a wound deep enough that she could see bone. The pair watched nervously as the first aid spray did its job and boosted her healing even more. Leon let out a relieved sigh as the wound healed to a rough series of gashes, the bone no longer visible. He bandaged the area and then leaned his forehead against her own. 

“That was a little too close for comfort,” he said. “You good? Do we need to fall back?”

"No, I'm fine," Amara said with a weak smile. She leaned into him for a moment before forcing herself back to her feet. That sickly feeling was still strong... and growing stronger? No. Just more concentrated. Like they... Like... "They are converging on something . They… it’s like they’re hungry .”

Chris looked at her, concern in his eyes, and she nodded to him. He nodded back and then turned, leading the way to the doors marked as leading to the basement. The group waited for a moment as Chris eased the door open from the side, shining his light down the stairs. He swept the ceiling before starting down the steps. Amara, Leon, Dominic, and Piers followed the brunette into the darkness below.

The vileness in the air worsened...

Chapter Text

I returned to Wesker's main lab with little to no fanfare, feeling a bit nauseous after the flight. My equilibrium was still a little off, given the T-virus was still altering me, slowly but surely. I shook off the urge to just sit down and rest and made my way to Wesker's office to deliver the sample I'd obtained from Amara. 

Wesker had been in a meeting, but he cut it short the moment I knocked on the door. I made out the order to reconvene at five, and he moved past me and deeper into the building to his personal lab. Once we reached the lab, I passed him the bag with the sample in it. He took it, tugging off his shades and tucking them into his pocket before spreading the sample over a slide before placing the sample under a high-powered microscope. 

Knowing his usual patterns, I quickly grabbed a clipboard and prepared to take notes. After a few moments of silence, he let out a pleased hum and began to talk aloud, still staring at the sample under the 'scope. 

“Sample from subject AR-One shows clear signs of the Eve strain amongst the red and white blood cells,” he began in a clear voice, not looking away. “No traces of the anomaly marker that were found in the samples recovered from Eve’s victims or the creatures that Eve has controlled. Similar cellular structure to subject AW-One, but far more active."

I jotted down what he was saying and frowned thoughtfully. So much of this was strange and... Wesker continued, and I pushed the thought away for later. 

"Given the minimal reaction with the primary controls in Tango Team and the slowed reaction to the secondary subjects in the same team," he was saying, "a conclusion could be reached that the lack of marker means that subjects AG-One and AB-One may not be controllable by the Eve-host, MP-One. A sample from AB-One would help to confirm the conclusion...”

"Should I order our contact in the BSAA task force to go to the hotel where Officer Brea is staying to obtain a sample?” I asked, looking up from the clipboard in my hand. 

“Not necessary,” Wesker said, pulling back from the scope and putting a portion of the sample into another device. “I already gave the order. A possible AB-One sample is already in route and should arrive within the next thirty minutes.”

“‘Possible AB-One?’” I repeated with a frown. “I take it they weren’t able to confirm if the sample is AG-One or AB-One before sending it off?”

“Sadly not,” Wesker responded with a small huff of annoyance. “Both subjects were injured, and the hotel is being turned into a forward operating base for the BSAA... The agent could not do more than a cursory search for a sample without being obvious, and they were using a singular container to hold the remnants of the efforts to tend both women's wounds."

No wonder he sounded frustrated. Not knowing what we were going to get didn't help. At least it was a fifty-fifty chance of ending up with the right sample. 

"Regardless, what we have is promising," he said, slipping his shades back on. "I ran a few additional tests while you were gone. The Eve-strain is untenable if it carries the control marker. Too dangerous by half. We will need to neutralize the threat. A pity, really. The control the subject shows is intriguing, especially the way it can be used to control and alter the animals of the city.”

“Wesker…” I started with a wince, only to have him cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Your concerns were already noted, Ms. Kvale,” he said firmly, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “The reaction we witnessed with regards to testing the Eve-T mixture means that we will not be continuing the same line of experimentation. There is potential, however, in AG-One and AB-One once the threat of subject MP-One is ended, but we would need to cultivate a relationship with one of the two women to even begin to research the possibilities.”

"You mean to try to create a mixed strain using their samples?" I asked with a thoughtful frown. 

"If possible, yes. The abilities both women are showing would be just as beneficial to the Project,” he said with a nod, moving to ready up at least three other devices to get additional readings on the sample I’d brought him. "What interests me most is that none of the Eve-strain subjects have a connection between them. They are not related in any way. Which means that there are likely to be other potential Eve-strain carriers amongst the populace that we can locate.”

"Anyone we find could also be carriers of the 'control' marker that you found present in the victims and enemies, however," I pointed out, worriedly tapping my pen against the clipboard. "A marker that may well be present in MP-One and how 'Eve' took over the poor woman."

“True,” he agreed with a nod, lips curling up in a brief smirk. “We will need to test to see if the control marker can be neutralized or removed outright. We do not need another ‘Eve’ host becoming active.”

"Also, I... I noticed something," I began warily. "When reviewing the footage we had from the Park Incident."

"Continue," he said, leaning against the side of the counter. 

"Eve said at the Park that she has been ‘under the control of a host since the dawn of time,’" I said, tucking the clipboard against my chest. "Which means this may not be an isolated incident. And, as interesting as it is to think that something like this could have been hidden amongst Human genetics for so long, it also seems that her abilities work like something akin to a Queen Bee and her Workers. Perhaps a mental or sub-vocal kind of control? The crowd at the edge of the park incident were trying to get closer to her after all.”

“Queen bees…” Wesker titled his head and pushed away from the counter, turning and tapping his chin as he stared at the machines in front of him. “That would explain a few things that I noticed as well.”

"Beyond that, the rampant destruction is strange," I continued with a frown. "Why not simply turn the Human’s she is controlling against each other or others? Range, perhaps?"

“Subject MP-One does appear to have a limited range,” Wesker agreed with a nod of his head. “Once Agent Thomas got the civilians a certain distance from the subject, they appeared to come back to their senses and fled the area. Still, you are right. The subject could have simply commanded the Humans to remain with her to protect her. But she killed them instead."

“Maybe it's because there are too many Humans around right now?” I asked after a long moment of contemplative silence. “If ‘Eve’ really has existed for so long, then she would have originally existed during times when the Human population was low and thus more easily controlled. It might also explain the issue of range.”

“Perhaps,” Wesker said, letting out a soft hum. “If the subject had once been set up as a god-like being, then she may well be trying to restore herself to a place of power…”

"I just had a random thought. Even here," I began, subtly hinting at the differences between my world and his in case anyone was nearby. Most people knew better than approaching Wesker’s personal lab, but best to be safe. “We have no gods damned idea what happened to the Mayans. It was like they just disappeared. No remains past a certain time frame. Nothing. What if they were… melted down?”

“Hm. Many of the older cultures worshipped deities that demanded tribute in blood and lives to ‘strengthen’ themselves,” Wesker said, frowning and tilting his head. “You think that she is gaining power with the deaths of those around her?”

“It's possible, isn't it?” I said questioningly. “You kill, you eat, you get stronger.”

“She isn’t consuming the material left behind,” Wesker pointed out.

“And what if the material left behind is a waste product?” I shot back, stifling the urge to grin.

“That… is a good question,” Wesker looked at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “A very good question. Order another analysis of the remains brought back. Test for missing components that make up the Human body.”

“Got it,” I made a note on the clipboard and grabbed my phone, sending off the necessary request. I glanced at the various devices in the room. “And now we wait…”

“Indeed,” he said with a faint huff. He started for the door. "My office."

I blinked, raising a brow at his back. Tucking my pen away, I followed after him. It took little time to reach the office, and he ushered me inside, locking the door behind him. Tension sparked through me, and I paused in the middle of the room, tilting my head. I reflexively held the clipboard to my chest as he prowled away from the door and toward me. He reached out and brushed a leather-covered thumb over my lower lip, smirking down at me. 

“You, my dear, spoke quite passionately on my behalf today,” he purred in a low, dangerous voice. “Clever little thing, twisting what truths you could amongst the lies I’d already put in place. You made it seem like I am a poor, misguided soul desperately climbing the path to redemption.”

“Well, it could be argued that you are walking a 'redemption path' with the guise you've built," I replied with a small shrug of my shoulders. "As far as the UN and the BSAA are concerned, I told the truth. And you have a handler..."

“A ‘handler,’ hah,” Wesker leaned back and chuckled darkly, thumb still stroking back and forth over my lower lip. “The girl wasn’t wrong. They all dance to my tune. Tell me, Lorraine…”

Wesker slowly pressed forward, forcing me back until my legs hit the edge of his desk. A faint yip escaped me as I lost balance, and his hand snaked around my back, catching me before I could fall over completely. My clipboard clattered to the ground. Thank the gods tablets aren't more of a thing yet. I'd have been upset. He loomed over me, lips just barely touching my own. I stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“‘But even if I wanted to, I can’t,’” he purred, repeating my words from earlier as he pulled off his shades. Fuck. I knew he'd heard me. His eyes pinned me in place. “Do you want to run? Do you want to beg Christopher and Leon for their help? Ask them to protect you? To keep you safe from me? Out of everyone you could choose, they do have the best chances of keeping you alive, after all.”

“I…” I shivered beneath that dragon-like gaze and then squared my shoulders. I held up the hand with his ring, my other braced against the desk. “As if you’d let me. I have no doubt that this is bugged all to hell and likely has an injection point for a poison or something meant to knock me out if I tried.”

“So wary. So suspicious,” Wesker said with a dark laugh. His hand closed around my raised one, fingers linking through my own as he pushed me back until my shoulders knocked papers and other items off the large oak desk beneath me. My breath hitched in my throat. “That’s one of the things I enjoy about you. You’re willing to acknowledge the harsher truths of the world around you…”

Fuck. Why is this such a turn-on? I thought desperately. 

I almost whined as his body pressed forward, his legs forcibly winging my own wide so he could settle his groin against mine. He was hard. So very hard. I felt the blush heat my cheeks and was very glad that I had a habit of wearing a work suit with fucking slacks and not a damned skirt. Gods know, a skirt would have ridden up past my ass at this point. Wesker’s lips brushed against my own in a brief kiss before he moved to nip down my neck. I shivered. His mouth pressed lightly against my thudding pulse before moving to my ear. 

“What if I offered to let you go. Right here, right now?” he growled in a low voice that promised so, so much. “A chance to live a life elsewhere as you please with the tools you need to survive on your own. Would you take that offer?”

“I…” I swallowed roughly, glancing away from those damned yet beautiful eyes.  

Even if he was just being a jerk, I thought about it seriously... and winced. A surge of… something filled me. Something had me feeling sick at the thought of leaving him… of leaving… of leaving my mate? What? 

My breathing hitched, and I clenched my eyes shut at the near pain that filled me. Fuck. Yeah, he was a good lay, but… why was I reacting like this? Was it because of the virus…? Why...?

Wesker crooned above me, and the hand not tangled with my own teased an almost soothing pattern up and down my side. His mouth brushed against my cheek and then over my lips. 

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured against my mouth. “It’s painful to think of leaving my side, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I responded after a tense moment, my voice barely above that of a whisper. 

“Hm,” he nipped my lower lip, letting out a low growl as he ground his groin against mine hard enough to make me whine openly in a mix of pain and pleasure both as cloth rubbed against suddenly too sensitive areas. Wesker’s voice was equal parts thoughtful and lustful. “It is physically painful to think of you leaving my side permanently. A curious side-effect of the virus. A defensive alteration meant to guarantee procreation and further generations? It will be prudent to note the full effects down for examination later. Perhaps a few tests to see how intense the pain can become...”

He was talking too much. Thinking too much. Here he was, leaving me a mindless little puddle of need, and he was still plotting. Still analyzing things. 

“Always… thinking of your... experiments,” I panted with a groan, reaching up to fist my fingers in his hair and tug. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Heat and want had pooled low in my belly. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the position we were in and good old-fashioned lust or if it was the virus muddling my thoughts, but I needed him. “And here I thought you were going to fuck me senseless on this lovely oak desk of yours...”

Wesker froze above me, pupils blown wide by my words. His expression remained the same, but I knew I’d managed to shock him, at least a little bit. His eyes were his tell. It was why he’d always hid them, even before the changes to his body. That and his photophobia. That ‘tell’ had only gotten worse after the T-virus altered him. The way the cat-like pupils expanded and contracted gave away his emotions in a way his expressions never could. 

He blinked slowly and then let out a low laugh that had me squirming eagerly beneath him. I squeezed down with my legs as if to pull him closer still. One hand closed lightly around my neck, and the other shook free from my grip. His hand glided down the front of my body, firm and teasing through my shirt. He paused with his hand cupping my clothed mound. 

As I let out a small moan, his mouth closed over mine in a heated kiss. The base of his palm rubbed in slow, firm circles over my crotch that sent little zings of pleasure up my spine. I shifted my legs, loosening them enough to open myself up for more of that sweet touch. A thready whine escaped me, and I tried to deepen the kiss... but he pulled back with a smirk. Clever fingers teased up and down my covered slit, making me squirm and arch into his touch. The grip on my throat tightened briefly, forcing a small, choked noise from me. 

“Wesker…” I breathed out after his hold loosened again. “Why are you… going slow? The time...”

“Oh, but I intend to take my time with you today,” he said with a sultry laugh. His voice lowered into a deep growl that reverberated through my body and made me shiver. “As much fun as it was to claim you so thoroughly on the beach… well. Today I want to... indulge.”

“What about your five o’clock meeting?” I shot back with a strained groan, bringing up the meeting he rescheduled earlier.

His hand shifted, fingers dancing up to undo the buttons and then the zipper of my pants. At least he wasn’t tearing them off like the last pair...

“What about it?” he growled, grinning down at me as he abruptly grabbed my knees and forced my legs open wide. I let out a startled hiss and braced my feet on the edge of the desk. “My desk has more than enough room beneath it for you to… remain hidden. And I have often played soft music during meetings. Oceans and Mozart. Beethoven...”

Wesker leaned in, lips once more brushing against mine. He pulled back, his eyes narrowed in a silent warning as he let go of my legs. I shivered eagerly and held the position Wesker had placed me in. Chuckling, he trailed one hand up along my thigh and then up over my stomach underneath the soft silk of my shirt. My breath hitched in my throat as his hand slid down the front of my pants. 

Those clever, clever fingers plunged into me barely a moment later. Leather-clad fingers began to stroke at my insides, and Wesker leaned forward to press his mouth back to my own in a devilish kiss. I whined against his mouth, hands moving to grip at his shoulders for something to hold onto as his fingers moved inside me. I pulled back with a glance toward the clock and went to say... something... anything, really. 

"Shh," he purred against my mouth. "You’re going keep that pretty mouth of yours occupied for me, aren’t you?”

“Wha-?! Wesker!” I felt the blush bloom over my cheeks like a flashfire. What he was suggesting was… I shivered. “That's a bit much, don’t you think?!”

“Oh, shy are you?” he asked with a dark bark of laughter. “Not too shy to be fucked raw on a beach where anyone could have stumbled upon us, yet you're suddenly too shy to fuck me in my own office? I don’t think so… my Lorraine.”

Those fingers moved a little faster inside my wet hole, finding and teasing over my g-spot at a rapid pace that had me panting for breath and on edge within seconds. It was an effort to fight back the strained, needy noise that threatened to escape me. Gods, how had he learned my body so well after just a single night? I rocked into his hand, biting my lower lip. 

He smirked down at me, stopping just moments before I could hit that peak. A strangled whine spilled past my lips, and I tried to reach down to hold his hand in place, but his strength more than outmatched my own, and those slicked fingers slipped from my wet cunt. He chuckled darkly, moving to tease my clit with slow, careful circles designed to drag out the pleasure rather than chase after it. 

I wanted... I needed... A frustrated growl escaped my throat, and Wesker let out another low chuckle. His other hand glided up along the front of my body, along my neck, and around to tangle in the hair at the base of my neck. My head was wrenched backward a moment later. I yelped at the sudden, painfully good grip. 

“You clenched at my suggestion, my Lorraine,” he growled, leather-clad fingers moving just a little bit faster over my clit. My eyelids fluttered shut. “The possibility of getting caught excites you, doesn’t it?”

“W-wesker! I’m not-nngh!” I broke off with a whine as the grip in my hair tightened. He leaned in, teeth sinking briefly into my shoulder and forcing a yelp from my lips.

“Do not lie to me,” he snarled as he pulled back, teeth nipping punishingly at my ear and forcing an agonized yip past my lips. His fingers lightly pinched my clit, making me cry out yet again. “You like the idea of being fucked on this desk. Of being made to hide beneath it and sucking me off while I talk with our ‘esteemed guests’ and risk being heard by them."

I squirmed beneath him, clawing at his arms. At his hands. He pressed forward, pressed down, pinning me in place as I tried to squirm free. His fingers went back to teasing my clit, soothing away the near-but-not-quite agony of having had my clit fucking pinched so. Yet, despite that, he was quick to push me back toward that edge, holding me there but not letting me fall. 

"You want me to fill your pretty little mouth with my seed while I look at all those dull, boring reports and status updates, don't you?" he whispered into my ear, his voice a wicked, wicked thing. "All while I pretend that you aren’t between my legs being a lewd little bitch, yes?"

“Fuck!” I writhed beneath him, trapped between the hard plains of his body and the oak desk at my back. Here he was, suggesting that I was the lewd one when he was saying things like that?! “Please…! Need to... ngh!”

Once more, his fingers stilled before I could reach that peak. A frustrated groan spilled from my lips, and he tugged at my hair. I almost snarled at him, but he let out a shushing sound and glanced intently back at the door over his shoulder. My heart leaped into my throat. We waited in silence. I expected to hear a knock. Expected him to let me up so I could try to desperately fix my clothes before whoever he’d heard could come in. 

No knock came, and he didn't let up either. 

Wesker let out a huff after another long moment of silence. He turned back to me, releasing my hair and brushing his thumb over my lips.  We both glanced toward the clock. His meeting would start back up in fifteen minutes. Enough time for no more than a quickie… unless he made good on his threat to stuff me under the desk.

Heat bloomed over my cheeks again at the thought. Was I really willing to do that? Sure, it was risque and enticing and... I swallowed roughly as I looked back and met his knowing, heated gaze. He smirked that wonderful dark, vicious smirk of his and hooked his fingers in my waistband. I tried to grab at his wrists, but he moved too quickly, yanking my pants and underwear down and off of me before I could stop him. He tossed my clothes over me and onto his chair. 

“W-Wesker!” I hissed, nervously glancing back at the clock, then to the door, and lastly back to him, eyes wide. 

“Hush,” he purred in a dark tone that made me shiver.

And then he surprised me by kneeling down and hefting one of my legs over his shoulder. I jolted, raising up onto my elbows to watch him. His mouth, warm and so fucking hot, closed over my clit, and I bit down hard on my lower lip to contain a reflexive moan. That devilish tongue of his flicked over and around the sensitive nub in quick, sweeping motions. Oh. Oh, gods. He was good. 

I reached out with a shaky hand run my fingers through those silky blonde strands of hair. When Wesker made no move to dislodge my hand, I tangled my fingers in his hair and held tight as he began to fuck me with his tongue. Slow passes, twirling little flicks, deep plunges inside… I fell back against the desk, covering my mouth with my hand and biting into my palm to muffle the needy little mewls of pleasure spilling past my lips. 

A dark purr escaped him, vibrating over my heated skin and forcing a tremor to rock through me. Gods, after the earlier teasing, I was close. I tugged at his hair, trying to urge him to move faster… but instead, the bastard slowed down and fucking stopped. I snarled, jerking back up and glaring down at him. Dragon-eyed orbs met my own as he mischievously bit my inner thigh and smirked up at me. 

"Why do you keep stopping?!" I hissed down at him, struggling not to yell outright yell.

"Because I want to," he responded with a low laugh. 

Wesker pulled my hand from his hair, smoothing it back as he stood. I glanced at the clock as he unzipped the front of his pants. Seven minutes. His meeting was going to-he wrenched my attention back to him by grabbing me by the hip and slamming inside in one firm thrust. His other hand closed over my mouth at the same time, muffling my startled cry. Whining low in my throat, I wrapped my legs around his waist, arching into him as he began to move. 

His thrusts were quick, shallow, and perfectly angled to drive his length over the most sensitive parts of my inner walls. My hands slammed over his own at my mouth, helping him muffle the wanton cries spilling from me as he drove me closer and closer to release with each thrust. He leaned over me, lips brushing my ear.

"That's it. Let go," he growled in a lust-thickened tone that sounded like honey and fire. Chocolate and poison. "Cum around me, my Lorraine. Right here, where your dear co-workers might overhear us. Right on my desk, where you wanted to be fucked. And when you're done, you're going to climb under that desk and suck me off like a good girl, aren't you?"

"Mmm! Mmmph!" I whined into that leather-covered hand, eyelids fluttering as he whispered those filthy, filthy words into my ear. 

Gods. I couldn't deny that it was a major turn-on being taken like this. It only took a few more harsh, gliding thrusts for me to fall over the edge and straight into the bliss of orgasm. I bit into that leather-clad palm, legs squeezing tight around his waist. A strangled, muffled scream of pleasure escaped me. Wesker growled, body shaking as he leaned over my own quaking form. He glanced to the side briefly and abruptly wrenched back and out of me with a hiss, forcing my legs away from his hips. 

The action drew a shuddering whine from me, but he yanked me up onto unsteady feet. Gloved hands glided smoothly down my sides for a moment before he pushed me toward the opposite side of the desk. 

"Hide. Now," Wesker ordered in a strained voice as he gathered up the papers and supplies that I had knocked over. "Two minutes."

I glanced toward the door to his office... and then off to the side to the connecting door that led to my own office. It wouldn't take more than a second to grab my pants and dart into the safety of my office to redress and straighten up. Wesker caught my arm and tugged me in close, lips crashing against my own in a searing kiss. He pulled back enough so he could lean in and whisper in my ear. 

"Under the table, my Lorraine," he purred, fingers sliding down and darting back inside, forcing a moan from me. He wriggled them about, and I tried to grab his wrist, tried to hold his fingers in place, but he overpowered me. He drew them out, teasingly flicking them over my clit before giving me a shove toward the other side of the desk. "Quickly."

"Bossy bastard," I muttered, quickly darting around the desk on shaky legs to grab my clothes from his chair.

The brief urge to dart for the safety of my office hit me again as I grabbed my clothes, but I bit my lip and sunk down and into the shadows of the admittedly large space beneath the oak desk.

"You're enjoying this," he said, keeping his voice pitched low as he put things back in their rightful positions on his desk. He turned on some light piano music a moment later. "Don't try to deny it."

I huffed but otherwise didn't say anything. The soothing notes of Beethoven's Fuori Programma filled the air, along with the sounds of ocean waves upon the shore. His gloves were tossed under the desk with me, and I watched as he slipped on a pair that wasn't absolutely coated with my juices. I swallowed roughly. 

Yeah, okay, that was hot. 

He sat down, easing his regal leather chair closer to the desk. I found myself trapped firmly between him and the back of the desk. I shivered, mind racing. Gods, what if we got caught like this?!

"Calm down," he rumbled, leaning back and looking down at me. His hand darted under the desk to caress my cheek. "I can smell your unease. They won't notice a thing… as long as you can keep quiet."

"R-right," I muttered, briefly leaning into his hand as I picked up his gloves. I tucked them into the back pocket of my pants to have them cleaned later. 

"Hmm. If we had the time, I'd have made you suck those clean," he said with a dark grin. I froze and shivered beneath that hungry gaze.

Pervert. 

Wonderful, incredibly hot pervert. 

A knock at the door cut off any further attempt to speak as Wesker straightened in his seat, easing forward that last inch. Like a cell door being locked shut. The finality of it sent another tremor through my form, part eagerness, part fear. His finger pressed against the button under the desk, and the office door clicked open. I squirmed nervously, shifting about so that I was at least comfortable as the two men from earlier walked back into the room. 

"Gentleman," Wesker began, his voice that smooth timber that he used on politicians. A tone that promised everything and nothing all at the same time. "Apologies for earlier. We had an update regarding the incident in New York that needed to be addressed."

"Horrible business, that," the cultured tone of one Edward Ross filled the room. The man was Wesker's primary front in the BSAA. His 'handler.' "I heard that Redfield is on the job, along with Agent Kennedy."

"Rare to have t-them both in the s-same place for a mission," said a man with an Austrian accent. Luis Panchet, Wesker's 'in' with the UN itself. 

The man had a stutter thanks to an injury from a BOW that would likely fade, but it was TriCell's inhibitors that kept the man alive even now. Both men, however, were very firmly in Wesker's pockets. 

As the pleasantries continued, Wesker's arm shifted down to rest on the arm of the chair. He leaned back as if he was merely getting comfortable while listening to them. He subtly tapped at his crotch where his length was straining against the confining leather of his pants. 

Yet again, I found my nerves acting up. Was I really going to do this? What if we... What if they...? I swallowed nervously and leaned forward, trailing my fingers over his trapped length. The hardened flesh twitched, eager to be released from the leather confines. I waited until their conversation picked up a bit, the other two almost talking over each other, and slid the zipper down as quietly as possible. 

He'd tucked himself back under his briefs, but given how hard he was, it was a simple matter to coax that heavy length back out through the opening. I ran my fingertips over the entire length of him, getting a chance just to admire the heft of it, unlike before. 

"-and here's the report I mentioned from the Arctic Base," Edward was saying in a dry tone. 

I glanced over my shoulder before turning back around, letting out a soft huff that ghosted over Wesker's length. It twitched in my hand. Gathering my courage, I pulled off my glasses and set them aside. Bracing my hands on his knees, I leaned forward, taking the head of his cock into my mouth. Wesker's legs immediately tensed beneath my hands. He let out a low 'hnn' that sounded almost thoughtful as he leaned back in his seat. 

That... had been a very promising sound, faint as it was. I pulled back and grinned wickedly. What other noises could I force out of him? I leaned back in and slowly licked along the length of his cock as if savoring a popsicle. 

"You s-see it t-too, t-then?" Luis asked, his voice filled with a hint of concern. 

"What I see is an incompetent scientist yet again put in charge of a project they should never have had access to in the first place," Wesker said after a moment of tense silence. His voice was tight with what the others might mistake as anger. The folder was tossed onto the desk, and he used the motion to cover a subtle thrust of his hips toward my mouth. "This is enough to have the good ‘Doctor’ replaced with one of ours."

I smiled and continued to tease his length with my tongue. Swirling it around the crown, prompting another heavy twitch from the hard shaft. 

"Do we move now, or should I take this to the BSAA for Redfield's team to handle?" Edward asked after a moment. 

"Leave it for Redfield," Wesker said in a low, almost but not quite dismissive tone. 

I surged forward and took his length into my mouth, rolling my tongue around the head twice before sliding it over the tip. Wesker grunted above me, and I smiled around him, pleased. 

"S-sir?" Luis' voice. Worried and fearful this time. Wesker's expression had likely gone blank. Something that usually meant 'danger' to anyone who knew the man. 

"When can I expect to see formal approval for me to go out on visible field missions with others?" Wesker asked, his tone almost sounding amused. 

There was another subtle thrust, but I pulled back and returned to bathing his length with unhurried sweeps of my tongue. His tone darkened as he continued, and I knew he was quickly growing frustrated with my teasing. Good. Payback was a bitch. If he was going to tease me, then I'd be more than happy to return the favor. Handsome bastard. 

"Covert Ops are all well and good," he continued, "but the goal is to have a 'visibly helpful presence' so that others focus on what we want them to see."

"We're lobbying for early two-thousand and nine, sir. Which is an immense improvement from the prior window of two-thousand and eleven," Edward said, and I could hear the smug grin in his voice. Happy that he was providing better news than last time he'd been asked that question, most likely. "The current crisis is working in our favor along with your purported ‘good behavior.’ They want all available hands on deck, and you're one of the best in both espionage and combat. We all know it."

He's the best at other things, too, I thought with a grin.    

As they talked, I continued to tease Wesker's cock with my tongue, fingers tracing up and down the length before me. I paid loose attention to the ebb and flow of the conversation going on above me, taking every opportunity I could to urge those small, almost unnoticeable noises from his throat as he spoke. All to see if I could get him to slip up. 

Foolish of me, perhaps, to try to get us caught, but... Dammit, he hadn't been wrong. There was a thrill to doing this. Each time he did make a noise, he masterfully masked it as a sound of agreement or annoyance at the other men's words. 

Gods, I was having a horribly wicked good time with this...

During another lull in the conversation, he leaned back and deftly caught a lock of my hair, tangling it around one finger. He gave a sharp tug, and I winced at the ferocity behind it. Grinning, I shifted closer to him and shifted my hands under his legs. He moved with me, movements subtle and controlled as my arms slid under his legs, just behind the bend of his knees. I scratched my nails over the tops of his legs, feeling the muscles jump under my fingers. 

Another tug was my reward, demanding. Eager. I breathed slowly onto that long shaft, watching it twitch, and had to suppress a giggle. 

“Let me see that report,” he ordered in a biting tone. 

Wesker shifted abruptly, leaning forward to likely take the report in question from one of the men. As he did so, his other hand shifted to quickly grab hold of the back of my head. He thrust forward, slamming his cock into my mouth even as he yanked my head down. I went willingly to avoid a mishap. The entire process could have easily been mistaken for him simply bracing his hand on the arm of his leather chair. I stifled a laugh as he sat back with a harsh grunt, hand moving from my head to start flipping through papers. 

“S-sir?” Luis’ voice again, once more nervous and fearful. And the poor man had just relaxed too. So sad. 

“The finances for this project are off,” Wesker growled in a thick voice. “Someone’s skimming off the top. A few hundred here and there every month, nothing that would be easily noticed, but obvious if you know what to look for.”

“Ah… I was about to get to that, actually,” Edward said with a cough, tone also now ringing with a bit of nervousness. “We’ve got two suspects...”

“Good,” Wesker bit out. “Find out which of the two is doing it and why. Either they’re playing it smart by taking such small amounts, or they’re desperate. Figure out which it is and if we need to neutralize the suspect or can use their situation to our advantage.”

“Yes, sir,” Edward responded, and I heard the sound of him fumbling to catch the folder as Wesker tossed it back to him. 

A silent puff of laughter escaped me, mouth full as it was. I knew Wesker's control was beginning to fray. Could feel it. Taste it even, as pre-cum trickled over my tongue. And why wouldn't it be fraying? It had been roughly thirty minutes now, and I had been teasing him the entire time. There was another minute thrust, and this time I gave in to the silent demand. 

I began to bob my head slowly up and down along his length, flicking my tongue over him each time I pulled back. Each time I pushed forward, taking him as deep as I could down my throat, I swallowed roughly around him. The feel of his cock twitching in the confines of my mouth and throat was amazing. 

This... this to me was trust. The most vulnerable part of him, and he was trusting me not to bite. Trusting me to give him pleasure. Wesker let out another low grunt above me, shifting forward to brace his elbows on the desk. I had to shift a bit with the movement myself, hands coming to a rest on his upper thighs. 

“Now, on to other matters. Have we gathered any new intel on Excella Gionne's recent activities?” Wesker asked, and I could practically picture the glare he was giving the two in front of him. 

A low growl escaped me upon hearing that damned woman’s name. Wesker’s foot connected firmly with my shin in a warning. Thankfully, the two other men in the room didn’t notice my upset noise. I dug my nails into Wesker’s thighs and began to suck harder upon the firm length filling my mouth. This was mine. He was mine. 

The other woman had gained control of the African branch of TriCell, as expected. Wesker had been able to quietly and subtly block her attempts at gaining full control over the bioweapons research division despite that. The head of our operations might not be him on paper, but this was definitely his division. Every conversation was vague, practically in code. He was keeping her at arm's length so he could use her as a fall guy later, yet despite that, she still kept visiting him. Excella was dead-set on seducing him. Hopefully, the engagement, such as it was, would get her to back the fuck off. 

I took his cock deeper into my mouth, that sense of possessiveness heightening further still. Overeager, I found myself almost choking on the length as it knocked against the back of my throat. A strangled snarl escaped him, drawing my attention back to the conversation. 

Mmm… Salty and sweet on my tongue. Wesker was close, wasn't he?

“Uh… and… s-sir.. We’ve also reason to believe t-that she’s obtained a viable t-test subject t-to use her P-thirty serum on,” Luis’ stutter, and growing fear was evident. P-thirty? That sounded vaguely familiar...

“And the status of the subject?” Wesker asked, the slight jolting of his hips against my mouth yet another sign that he was close to release. 

“Stable,” Edward said, and he sighed a moment later. “But we don’t know who precisely was taken. No notes on if the subject is male or female. She’s keeping this one close to the chest, that’s for damn sure. What we do know is that no less than four of our best teams were attacked simultaneously roughly a month before the update was noted in the file. Three agents are presumed MIA or dead. It may very well be possible that one of them is this ‘subject.’”

“Give. Me. Names,” Wesker growled in a low voice, and I could hear the subtle creak of his leather gloves as he clenched his hands into fists. 

Even as he said that I felt him spill hot and warm down my throat. I almost moaned at the taste of him, containing the sound at the last second. His hips shifted to the side in an aborted attempt to thrust deeper still into my mouth. I took him deeper, swallowing and savoring the flavor of him as I sucked upon that twitching cock. I would have pushed forward further still, to deep-throat him and let those last drops of seed spill directly down my throat, but one of the names made me freeze in shock beneath the desk. 

“...and Jill Valentine,” Edward was saying.

Well… 

Fuck…

Chapter Text

The trip downstairs into the basement areas was thankfully uneventful. In the distance, the group could hear the panicked shouting of people coming from their right. Amara glanced up and saw a sign at the top of the t-intersection ahead of them that read 'kennels' and pointed to the right. She tapped Chris' shoulder and pointed at the sign. 

He grimaced but nodded, quickly checking the other hallway before signaling the all-clear. Amara checked to the right and couldn't see any enemies within view. She signaled to Leon, and he nodded, tapping Chris on the shoulder and giving his head a jerk toward the kennels. Chris nodded before spinning around, taking point once more as they headed toward the screams. Leon took Chris' spot, watching their back as they continued forward. 

Amara kept reflexively checking the ceiling. She didn't want another spider incident. As they approached the closed door to the kennels, she heard a male voice scream out in agony. Several dogs were barking. One was howling . 

She looked over at Chris before glancing over her shoulder at Leon. Both nodded and moved to the door, one on either side. Amara crouched low and to the left, aiming at about chest height at the door. The two men looked at each other for a moment before Chris abruptly kicked in the door before moving back and out of Amara’s line of sight. 

From where Amara was crouched, she could see two male officers and one female officer inside, hemmed in against the far wall near the cages. One of the men was leaning against the wall, holding his stomach. Blood stained the front of his clothing. The other man was curled into a ball, hand holding tight to the lead of one of the K-nines. The female officer crouched next to him was also injured, her leg bent at an awkward angle. Two German shepherds stood protectively in front of the trio, barking and snarling loudly in threat.

In front of them, pinning them in place, was a large dog-man thing . It was much larger than the first dog-man they’d encounter and was likely twice as dangerous. 

The beast turned to face them, growing in that strange dual-toned growl so similar to the other beast. Before Amara could squeeze her trigger, it lunged forward and through the door. Rather than turn toward any one of them, it lashed outward, shoving Chris and Leon back. Both men yelped but rolled with the impact, raising up to a knee as they opened fire. The thing ignored the bullets and charged for Amara. She cursed and rolled to the side. Just in time, too. 

The creature smashed into the wall and let out a massive screech that hurt her ears. 

“Amara! Leon! Into the room, now!” Chris barked. Amara glanced over and saw him pulling a grenade from his belt. 

  Amara quickly darted into the kennel room, Leon on her heels. They knew to avoid that particular grenade. A shrapnel grenade. Chris rushed forward, dodging around a couple of swipes and lobbing the grenade right into the open maw of the creature as it roared at him, spittle flying. Chris spun about and ran for the door, slamming it shut and kicking several cages screeching to block the door. Everyone ducked back from the door, covering their heads. Leon moved to shield Amara while the officers grabbed their respective K-nine partners to shield them. A loud explosion filled the air and the door distorted with the force of the explosion.

Thankfully, the heavyish cages were enough to keep the door from blowing inward and sending shrapnel flying into the confined space. Chris' gamble had paid off. 

“Shit,” Chris said, rubbing at one ear to clear out the sudden ringing they were probably all experiencing after that blast. “Everyone alive?”

Amara could just barely make out what he was saying through the ringing of her own ears. She let out a small groan, rubbing at her ears and glancing up at Leon. Leon rolled off of her, pushing himself to his feet and shaking his head. He glanced over at Chris and frowned at him. 

“What?!” he shouted back at the other man. 

A sudden chorus of echoing shouts all along the same vein prompted Amara to let out a weak laugh. She pushed herself to her feet, placing a relieved kiss on Leon's cheek. Chris noticed, shooting her a cheeky grin before straightening up. She returned the grin, if shyly, before moving over to the officers on the ground. She started to examine the female officer's leg. Leon moved after her, helping her look over the injured. The curled-up officer had the worst injuries, so Leon focused his attention there. 

The officer holding his stomach had curled up around his K-nine, shivering violently. His eyes were wide. Frightened. 

Amara helped to set the female officer's leg. The woman nodded her head in thanks and set about putting together a make-shift splint, waving Amara toward the shivering forms. 

  "His stomach," the woman said. "I can handle a broken leg. Done it before. Check his stomach."

"Alright," Amara said in a soothing tone. "Just be mindful of that break."

She glanced toward Chris as she stood and started for the shuddering man. Chris followed, a concerned look on his face. Amara reached out to carefully try to pry the whining dog away from his human partner. Both man and dog ignored her, their bodies shaking worse and worse. The dog's whines grew louder, and pain abruptly flared through Amara’s skull. She fell back, clutching at her head. 

Chris let out a curse that she could barely hear past the thudding of her own heart. His hand darted into his pouch, pulling out one of the green inhibitors. Amara stumbled back another step as the pain grew stronger. As Chris tore at the man's shirt sleeve and injected the contents of the syringe into the officer's arm. He injected a second inhibitor into the dog. 

“Get back!” Chris shouted, standing and grabbing Amara by the arm to help pull her away from the two convulsing forms on the ground. 

At first, Amara thought the inhibitor wasn't going to work. That TriCell's efforts had been in vain. Both man and dog let out a series of pained howls that tore at her heart, and yet... And yet, the agony pulsing in the back of her skull faded. The human and dog pair fell limply to the ground, the dog's head landing on its human's chest. 

She started forward, but Chris's grip tightened, and he shook his head at her. Leon moved over to check the pulse of both man and beast. Amara glanced over her shoulder and saw the other two officers were staring at their friend with wide, fearful eyes. 

“They’re alive,” Leon called out. He pulled out one of the inhibitors he carried and tossed one to Amara. “Chris! Amara! Tag the other two, quickly!”

Amara caught the inhibitor in her hand and ran to the female officer's side as Leon went to the other man. She tore open the sleeve with the woman's help, freeing up a space for Amara to inject the inhibitor into her arm. Chris followed behind her, and the male officer was quick to hold out his arm, his fearful expression not leaving the sight of his unconscious co-worker. Both of the officers looked panicked and ready to leave, but the female officer rallied herself and grabbed Amara's arm before she could pull back.

"The hell is in this?" she asked in a high-pitched, fearful tone. "This stuff... It's gonna keep us from turning into those things, right? They're alive over there, right? The others just melted into their K-nine partners and turned into those… those things ! We didn't know how to stop it!"

"Remember your training," Leon called out in a firm voice as he hefted up the unconscious officer over his shoulders. 

"Training didn't cover shit like this!" the female officer said with a squeaky scoff. "But I get what you mean. Need help with Hugo? The dog, I mean."

"Yeah, if you can get the pooch, I have his partner. Chris?" Leon turned back to the taller man. "Take the point and get us back to the front, yeah?"

"On it. Amara, watch our rear and let me know if you 'feel' anything," Chris called out as he shoved the ruined cages aside and opened the door. 

Amara nodded in response and took the rear position as the group headed back for the stairs. She kept her senses peeled, trying to reach out with... With whatever it was that let her sense the creatures that were attacking the precinct. Thankfully, there were no more enemies in the immediate area. In fact, it felt like the remaining presences were heading upstairs. They were able to safely get the injured to the main entrance of the precinct. 

Piers, Dominic, and surprisingly Tanya all moved forward to help take the injured officers and K-nines from them. Piers and Dominic started immediately toward the medical tents erected in the distance. Tanya paused briefly to nudge Amara with her arm and smile faintly. 

"Good to see you, chica," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Heard you got your boys from Dommy. Left you a little somethin' at your hotel room. Chat later!"

Tanya gave her no time to respond as she hefted up the unconscious dog and started running after the others. Amara struggled to keep her face blank, feeling her cheeks warm up. While she hoped that Tanya's surprise 'gift' wasn't something that would leave her an embarrassed mess, she doubted it. Tanya loved playing well-meaning pranks. Amara turned away from the others, glancing toward the hall they'd gone down while trying to get the blush under control. 

"Alright," Chris said a few minutes later as he gathered Amara and Leon back to his side. "We've got a secondary team securing the bottom floor. Sensing any more BOWs on the lower level, Amara?"

"I..." she fell silent and reached outwards. She shook her head a moment later. "No. The basement and first floor feel 'clear' to me. But I can sense a number of them upstairs and... I think I can sense Officer Brea? There's a presence that feels different compared to the BOWs. Healthier. Not… wild and foul ."

Honestly, Amara wasn't quite sure how else to explain it. Thankfully, she didn't need to explain any further. Chris simply nodded his head and led the way back into the depths of the building. Amara followed suit, with Leon bringing up the rear. Again, Amara found herself surprised that having someone new at her back wasn't making her uneasy. 

She shook her head and, as they reached the stairway, Amara signaled an all-clear. Chris nodded, and the trio started for the stairs leading up to the second floor. Each of them glanced up reflexively on occasion, not wanting to get jumped a second time by the spiders with bladed limbs. As they reached the second floor, Chris held up his fist in a stopping motion. Amara tensed and then relaxed as he pointed toward the fallen body of yet another officer. 

He waved Amara toward the fallen man and continued a few steps past the body, leaving Leon to stand guard behind her. Both men stood guard as she knelt down to check the too-still form for a pulse. Nothing. While she allowed herself a moment to feel sorrow for the loss of life, she pushed the emotion firmly down and stood back up. Chris glanced back at her, and she shook her head negatively. He winced but nodded his understanding before starting forward. 

Amara tapped Chris hard on the shoulder as they neared a corner. Not only had she felt the sudden sickly pulse of an enemy dropping down and coming to a stop nearby, but she had heard a soft voice whisper in her ear. A cry of 'Wait!' that had her tensing. Chris crouched slowly, scanning the lower part of the hall as she looked up.

Two giant spiders BOW's had tucked themselves against the ceiling, lying in wait for an unsuspecting victim. She tapped Chris on the arm twice and pointed up at the forms. He gave her a quick thumbs up and took aim. Before they could shoot, the eerie stillness in the police station was pierced by the sound of something very large letting out an angry roar. The noise was followed up by the sound of a child’s fearful screech. 

Alarm filled her, and she shared a quick look with Chris. They turned back toward their targets, quickly shooting the spiders down with control bursts of bullet fire. Once they were dead, limbs curling inwards, the three darted for the screaming. Amara could feel something huge in the room to the left. 

"Fuck," she hissed as they got into position around the door. "I hope you two are ready to tango. Whatever it is in there, it's not a small one."

"Bigger they are..." Leon started with a grim smile.

"Harder they fuckin' fall," Chris finished before kicking the door in. 

The door swung open, revealing Officer Brea firing into the large form threatening her. A child was huddled in the far corner, covering their head. At first, Amara thought the creature was simply an abnormally large dog, but then her mind caught up with what she was seeing as the creature turned to look at the new threats. 

Three twisted canine heads were pointed outwards from a wide, circular mouth full of teeth. The dog-heads were blind, each of the mouths opened wide in a perpetual snarl. Two massive red eye-like orbs looked at them without blinking, reddish pupils widening and narrowing on the trio near the door. On its back were two massive limbs that ended in sharp, spiky masses like a weird version of a morning star, along with two other limbs that ended in what looked like flames. 

The odd part was that the limbs appeared to be partially rotted. Even one of the dog-heads looked to be in the middle of decomposing. 

The beast snarled at them, some sort of twisted, tongue-like appendage appearing from the mouth before it turned toward the 'easy' prey. Officer Brea. Amara darted forward, rushing past the guys, and just barely managed to tackle the officer to the ground just before the spiky limbs would have slammed into her. Chris and Leon let out twin shouts to catch the beast's attention and opened fire on it. It turned toward the men with an angry trio of twisted howls, and the two women used the time afforded them to get out of reach. 

“Are you alright, Officer Brea?” Amara asked breathlessly as she aimed for the beast and took a few shots before ducking back behind an overturned desk. 

“Call me, Aya," the woman responded with a near-hysterical laugh. "And I’ll be alright. We need to take this thing down so I can get Captain Baker and Ben out of here."

Aya glanced to the side and noticed that the child from earlier wasn't merely huddled up by himself but curled around the wounded form of another officer. 

“Well… In that case, let’s take this son of a bitch down,” Amara said with a near-feral grin.

Amara and Aya shared a determined look before darting out of cover and opening fire on the dog-like beast. They darted off to the side, away from the huddled forms, and slid behind another set of desks. 

“You two alright over there?!” Chris called, sending short, controlled bursts of fire at the beast to force it back against the far wall, trying to pin it in place. 

"We're fine!" Amara called back, glancing out to see Leon taking pot-shots at the creature's bulbous eyes. 

The creature let out another vicious roar filled the air as the beast made to lunge for Chris, the weird center maw reaching for him. Chris dodged to the side, barely managing to get out of reach. Amara and Aya opened fire on the creature, drawing its attention on them as Chris moved to put some space between him and the twisted animal. Light started to glow in the mouths of the three dog heads. Beams that were eerily similar to the beams that Eve had used on Amara. 

Amara and Aya shared a quick look before darting apart and away from the large beams of light shooting out from the creature like some kind of death ray. Amara covered her eyes to shield herself from the bright beams. She blinked her eyes open and saw it lunge just as the lights faded. 

Not for Amara.

Not for Aya. 

Not for the kid or the downed officer or Chris. 

But for Leon.  

The man in question cursed and rolled to the side to avoid the charge, only to get struck by one of the taloned limbs extending from the twisted creature's back. A sickly tearing sound filled the air, and Amara's heart fell to her stomach as she watched as one pointed edge on the tendril caught Leon at just the right angle to slip under his kevlar armor. He let out an agonized wail of pain as he was flung back against the wall. His form fell limp onto the ground, gun spinning across the floor as it fell from limp fingers. 

" Leon !" Chris roared, fear and anger ringing loudly in his voice as he unloaded his weapon on the dog-like hell-beast. Aya opened fire as well. 

Amara darted for Leon's fallen form as the other two kept the beast's attention on them. She skidded to a stop next to him, slinging her weapon over her shoulder and pulling the field med-kit from her belt. Panic gripped her as she saw the quickly pooling puddle of blood spread beneath him. That wasn't good. It wasn't a good sign at all. 

She undid the buckles of his body armor, moving it out of the way so she could get a better view of the injury. It was a nasty one. A large, gaping hole right above his hip. Given where it was and how fast he was bleeding, he didn't have much time. 

Quickly. Quickly. Amara knew she had to be quick and careful and... Breathe. She took a shuddering breath, fighting back the tears as she applied first-aid spray to the wound. The spray usually did so much to help with injuries, but... Even it had its limits. Fatal wounds couldn't be healed fast enough, even with the spray. A few tears fell as she tried to put pressure on the wound. Tried to do anything to help stem the blood flow. 

*You can save him,* the little girl's voice from before whispered in her ear. * Call out to it. It'll answer. I promise.*

A shudder ran through her. Fear gripped her, but also desperate hope. Amara reached out for the warmth she usually reached for to gather fire to her hands. This time, though, focused on that frenzied need to save Leon. Her hands warmed, but no fire came to them. Everything felt strange. Felt wrong somehow, but... not in a bad way? It was strange. 

The fight continued on behind her, the noise lost in the face of the pulsing sensation coursing through her blood. All she knew was that she needed to save Leon. She had to save him. She could save him. Amara pressed down and felt her eyes widen as her fingers started to sink into Leon's skin . 

Not as in sinking into the open wound, no, but into him as if that portion of his body had turned into liquid. Panic filled her, setting her heart racing, yet there was a strange sense of absolute confidence and resolution. Thoughts raced through her mind. Images

Left lung punctured.

Two broken ribs.

Stab wound two inches in diameter straight through the stomach and into the pancreas. 

All of that and more flickered across her mind's eye. Leon was at knocking at death's door... and she wasn't going to let death answer the damned thing. 

She wanted him to be healed . Wanted him whole. Safe. Warmth again pulsed through her, starting at her heart and flowing down her arms, through her fingers, and into Leon. There was a small crack of sound, and she could all but see his ribs clicking back into place. Could all but feel his stomach and pancreas heal over. Felt blood flow back into the veins and... and...

Leon took a ragged, gasping breath as his lung reinflated. A ragged sound of pain escaped his lips as he spasmed and, even though she felt drained, even though it felt like it was almost too much, she pushed that last bit of energy into him. Leon slumped against the wall. Whether it was because he fell unconscious or because she actually stopped him from dying, she couldn’t tell. 

Amara pulled back, shaking fingers slipping... slipping out of him. She stared down at the bloodied yet perfectly healed skin. There wasn't even a scar. Dimly, she heard the beast behind her let out a dying wail... but then darkness claimed her, and she collapsed atop Leon's still breathing form. 

Chapter Text

After that wonderful revelation, Wesker ordered his guests from the room with instructions to keep him informed of any changes or updates regarding the issues they'd reviewed with him. The blonde let out the faintest of sighs, locking the door and pushing his chair back as he tucked himself away beneath his clothes once more. I wiped at my lips and chin, licking my thumb clean but unable to really enjoy the flavor. My thoughts were spinning. 

I got my pants back on, and Wesker held out his hand, helping me to my feet as I slipped out from beneath his desk. I promptly sat my ass down on his desk, pinching the bridge of my nose and letting out a low growl of frustration. He let out a low laugh of amusement, hand sliding up my wrist and over my arm. I dropped my hand, glaring up at him. His thumb passed over my cheek, and I found myself relaxing almost against my will. 

Part of me felt absolutely helpless after hearing that. Jill was supposed to be safe , dammit. The events at Spencer's mansion had been completely different from what had happened in the game. Why...?

Just why?

Not only that, but I was also upset with myself on another level. The damned P-thirty serum had slipped from my mind entirely. Wesker hadn't been at the mansion. Hadn't killed his version of Spencer and carted off a wounded, near-dead Jill into his care. Hadn't healed the woman back to full health and experimented on her. There had thus been no need to develop a serum to control an unwilling servant. Especially not when I'd brought so much information to the table with me. 

At least Wesker's current approach to 'improving humanity' didn't have him lording it as a 'god' over everyone else. That had been Spencer's goal. Wesker wanted to make humanity better, yes. Longer lived. Healthier. Less prone to illness and injury. More intelligent. But he didn't care about being some sort of 'god.'"

Which was a relief all its own. 

Still, this meant that Excella was originally, at least in part, responsible for P-thirty's creation in the game. It was the only way she could have made the damned stuff on her own. And I knew damned well that Wesker wasn't prompting her to make the shit. Again, he had no need of it. Dammit, all… I shook my head and looked away from him with a frown. 

"Do not look so forlorn, my Lorraine," Wesker purred, thumb sliding down to rub over my swollen lips. "You did what you could to manipulate things so that Jill was not taken. It is neither your fault nor her own that things have turned out as they have."

"And somehow, she still ended up caught in that web," I groused, crossing my arms over my chest. “I have good reason to feel more than a little bit upset.”

"Perhaps. Or perhaps you should look at it from a different angle," he said, sitting back down and leaning back like a king lounging on his throne. "She has not been under the effects of this serum for years, like in your stories. Merely months. We can use this situation to our advantage in more ways than one. Or… is it sentiment for the woman that plagues you currently?"

"No. No, it's not that. Or, rather, not just that," I ran my hands through my hair to straighten it back into place. "Wesker… I'm just... We've manipulated several events to our advantage, even kept your activities to a minimum to keep your name 'good,' but… I…"

"We have," he frowned and tilted his head, inhaling through his nose. The frown deepened into a scowl. "Why are you afraid?"

"Jill still got caught," I started slowly, tugging at a strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear. "Despite you ignoring his taunts and not going to his hidden residence, Spencer still died when Jill and the others went to find him based on your intel rather than end up being captured. Several events that I... I honestly wanted to help prevent still ended up happening. Wesker… Albert… I…"

"Ah," he blinked, pulling his shades off and setting them on the table. He tugged me onto his lap, and I went willingly, sitting sideways so I could see his face rather than fall so that my back was to his chest. He chuckled softly. "You are worried about Uroborus and my 'eating a rocket,' as you put it, aren't you?"

"Yes. I'd rather that we avoid you dying in the heart of a volcano," I breathed out, grateful that he understood the fear that had begun percolating in my gut. "I chose to follow you. To help you. I mean, not exactly a hard choice when the only other options available to me at the time were a zombie-related death or a bullet to the brain."

He let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head a little. I let out a weak laugh of my own, looking down and to the side. That had been a horrendous attempt at gallows humor. We both knew that I'd had no real choice that day since I'd wanted, above all, to live . I'd made my peace with that years ago. Had even tried to do the best I could within my means to hold onto the remaining scraps of my morals while working for him. It wasn't easy, and I'd had to cut away at parts of myself to make it past dealing with some of the horrors I'd seen. 

At least Wesker never experimented on kids. And he mostly used volunteers who were either on death's door or who had nothing to lose if his tests went wrong. Or those who were criminals of the worst sort and wouldn't be missed. And Gods help those who were found sexually abusing any test subjects. Those lot became test subjects themselves within short order. 

Cold and vicious as he could be, he had some lines that even he wouldn't cross, and I... I'd always admired that, and yet...

I turned to look back at him, reaching up to brush my fingers against his cheek. He tilted his head, raising a brow at me. It was less that he was leaning into my touch and more that he was silently asking what I was thinking.

"I should still be angry with you for what you've done to me," I muttered softly after another moment of silence. "I really should."

"You are not wrong," he conceded with a nod. Dragon-like pupils narrowed and then widened slightly as he looked me over. Examined me. There was a hint of hunger in his eyes even now. "I'd expected you to remain upset with me for some time, my Lorraine. The virus seems to be affecting us both in interesting ways. Still, back to the prior subject, there is no need to worry so about the future."

"But-" he pushed a finger to my lips, letting the leather tease sensually over my mouth. I shivered and raised a brow at him. 

"Enough, my Lorraine," he said in a firm tone. "We are as prepared as we can be. We know what to avoid. The events in Africa will not be left to chance. And you know we are already working on an inhibitor to neutralize and innoculate against the effects of Uroborus if the version made by Excella without my aid proves to be as useless as the strain from your stories. Cease your fretting. If I go on that mission, then I will ensure I am protected against Excella's little pet project."

"I... to be honest, I really do wish you'd have opted to get rid of her," I said with a sigh, pulling back enough to pinch the bridge of my nose. "We knew from the start that she was dirty, and that was without my intel."

"We need her to be where she is," Wesker pointed out firmly, hand dropping to trail along the front of my body. "She is a legacy shareholder at TriCell. If we can expose her, ruin her, then the company will turn on her and panic, focusing heavily on damage control. The company will end up that much more in my control when I purchase those shares right out from under the noses of those righteous fools on the board."

"I know," I said, leaning into him. "I know the plan well enough. It's just... Things feel like they are slipping, going off-kilter as it were."

"What was it you said to me before, when you told me more about Spencer and Project W? When you argued so against my going to face him directly?" Wesker murmured softly after a few minutes of silence, firmly changing the subject. He hummed a moment later. "Ah, yes. 'A man chooses. A slave obeys.'"

I blushed faintly, looking away from him. That conversation had been one of the few times I'd dared to keep pressing him on a subject. He'd either been set on visiting Spencer personally, or he had been testing how adamant I believed that such a visit would be to his detriment. True, he had capitulated, especially when I'd launched that particular phrase into his face along with a final plea that I feared he'd be walking into a trap that would lock a slave's collar back into place around his neck. Yet I'd been left after the end of that conversation feeling like I'd passed another one of his damned tests. 

"You helped to rip away the remains of the chains I'd thought I'd freed myself of. Chains that would have dragged me down into a pit that would have ended me, based on what you've told me oh-so-willingly," Wesker smirked, fingers teasingly darting up under my shirt to drag over my stomach. "You've remained loyal this entire time, never once trying to turn against me..."

I shivered, stomach clenching with sudden nerves. Talk about butterflies in the stomach... Wesker took a breath and then let it out with a chuckle. His right hand slid out from under my shirt, reaching up to press a knuckle to my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. He very pointedly looked me over before his eyes landed on the new ring adorning my left hand. He looked back up at me, dragon's eyes narrowed and heated. 

"I reward good behavior, as you well know," he purred in a sultry tone.

"...you do," I murmured back. I gathered my courage and held up my hand with the ring, examining it and then meeting his gaze. "You don't actually care, though. Marriage is just a front."

"True… And yet false as well," he said, tilting his head and reaching around me to close his left hand around my own as I lowered it to my side. He pulled me in close. It could almost be called a hug, but it was more restricting than that. "And it is not merely the virus that makes me say that. You know that I am a sociopath, either by birth or because of Spencer's manipulations. I care very little about anything or anyone."

I nodded slowly, glancing away. I understood that. I really did. And not just because of my previous husband's own sociopathic nature. There was a reason I called Umbrella Wesker's 'Slave Owner' when talking to the others. I hadn't been lying about that to Chris and the others about my opinion on that subject. Taking children and raising them in such a way, controlling their every move, their every choice, forcing them to become perfect little killers and test subjects was undeniably a form of slavery. And given the way they'd been raised, there was every real possibility that Wesker's and Alex's sociopathy had been enforced and not natural. 

But Wesker had made a choice. And that had been to gather resources and attempt to leave Umbrella with Dr. Birkin and his family. 

Birkin, who had been the closest thing he had to a friend. Birkin, who had given him his own, altered and successful strain of the T-virus. A strain that had saved Wesker's life when Umbrella had so coldly ordered the blonde's death. Birkin, who had been willing to entrust Sherry into Wesker's distant care if the worst should happen. 

I knew that their plan had been to gather as much information as possible. Information that they had needed to help protect themselves and bring Umbrella down. Or at least hold Umbrella back and keep the corporation from coming down on their heads. Only Wesker and Sherry had survived the hot mess of events during Raccoon City. And only due to luck and perseverance on both their parts.

Wesker's grip shifted until he held my chin between finger and thumb, pulling my attention back to his face and away from my thoughts. 

"You know that what is mine, is mine , Lorraine," he said, voice dropping into a low and dangerous sounding growl that sent a shiver up my spine. "And you are mine. Make no mistake about that. I 'care' about you as much as it is possible for me to care. Merely do not mistake it as that foolish thing that the simpletons around us call inanely call 'love' as if it were a prize to be worn and shown off like some bauble."

"Ah," I blinked rapidly, more than a little surprised by what he was saying. Blunt as his words were… Well, it still meant something to me, oddly enough. "Mania, not eros?"

"Mmm. 'Possessive,' more than 'obsessive,' but yes," Wesker said with a low chuckle. "And 'eros' is passion. I would argue that there is plenty of passion between us, yes? But not 'pragma.' I will not be singing sonnets for you or laying out a trail of flower petals leading to a perfume-laden bed..."

His lips curled back into a sneer, and I grimaced. I looked at him, trying and failing to imagine him waiting for me one morning or evening sprawled out across a bed covered in petals...

And promptly burst into a giggle-fit. Wesker shook his head, looking bemused by my sudden laughter. 

Given his background and personal tastes, I might expect high-class meals from him, dancing during a gala, something regal and poised and with a purpose, yes. But I knew that he wouldn't ever go for those over-the-top gestures that some people liked. Besides, both of us had sensitive noses. Most perfumes had been triggers for my migraines back before my 'wonderful' doctor had me undergo a few treatments. Oddly enough, if there was one good thing that had come from his fiddling with my DNA with the viruses, it was that I no longer had to deal with random migraines. Oh, I still got headaches , but the debilitating migraines were no more. 

I quieted and leaned against him, curling up so that my nose was against his neck. I instinctively breathed in the scent of him… Expensive leather, a brand of gun oil that smelled so much like aloe vera, and his own unique and wild scent beneath it all. Like some clearing in the middle of the woods that was home to some wild animal. Musky and a hint of sweetness, but somehow good . I felt something inside me settle and all but purr in contentment. That, I knew, was the virus reinforcing the mental label of 'mate' in my mind. 

What a picture we would have made just then. A King on his throne, with his bride-to-be, snuggled up on his lap. 

Hah. 

"Do you think we can get Jill out sooner?" I asked with a tentatively hopeful note in my voice. 

"Without knowing where she is currently being kept, no," Wesker responded, letting go of my left hand to trail his fingers up and down the line of my spine. "I've ordered them to start looking, but we may not have a chance to recover her until the incident in Africa."

"Like the damned story," I muttered discontentedly. 

"Correct," he said, reaching forward to tap a few keys on his keyboard, looking at his computer screen. I was polite enough to not look. He hummed a moment later and leaned back in his chair. "We still have work to do. Up with you."

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" I said, easing off of his lap and stretching my limbs out and up, rising up onto my toes for a moment. Roomy as it was under his desk, that had still been a long time stuck in a semi-hunched position. 

"Indeed," his hand slid down my back and over my tense thigh before I dropped back down and rolled my shoulders. He turned back to his computer. "I need the file for Subject J-Eighty-two pulled."

"Primary file?" I asked with a tilt of my head.

"No, the Lotus," he responded. "I have an idea for an alteration and need to confirm the RNA structure of the sample."

"On it," I said, moving over toward my office. 

He wanted the primary hard copy of the project then. True, Wesker had partially isolated servers with his various projects on file that he could pull from. But those files only had limited bits of information on them. Fluff pieces, if you will. It was specifically set up that way so that if anyone went searching for information on his current activities they'd find very specific bits of information. The truly detailed reports were kept in paper format and written out in a code that only he knew the key to. 

In fact, the file he was asking for was hidden in plain sight in the form of a functional handwritten gun manual for his custom Samurai Edge that had been made by Robert Kendo. Given the man was dead - suicide after putting down his infected daughter, if I remembered right - Wesker had needed to build the manual from scratch. Wesker hid most of his files in plain sight like that. 

I grabbed the 'book' from my shelf, eyeing the many other 'books' - books on war, sabotage, and more - before turning away and heading back to his office. The books themselves made for interesting reading sometimes when I was bored. Given I didn't know the key, I could only enjoy what the books appeared to be, not what they actually were . Despite how closely we worked, I only knew what he was willing to share about the various projects. Which was still quite a lot, to be honest, but I knew better than to push him with more questions.  

Perhaps that would change now? 

Doubtful, but still…

Chapter Text

Amara opened her eyes, blinking several times at the dry feeling. Her hand flailed to the side over the bed table, finding the eyedrops laying next to her glasses case. It took a moment to treat and soften up the damned contacts enough for her to see properly again, and she looked around the room, squinting and frowning. She was back in her hotel room. How...?

Ow... that... was that all a dream? she thought to herself with a wince. 

Glancing down, she found that she was still dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing during the attack on the police department. Clothes that were still covered with Leon's blood. Her heart leaped into her throat, panic filling her. It was less because he had been injured but more what she had done to treat that injury. Maybe she'd imagined it. Maybe it hadn't...

She scrambled about for her phone, fingers shaking as she looked through her messages. There was one waiting for her from Chris.

We cleared the Precinct. Saved a total of seven officers, one kid, and three K-nines. Leon is fine . Whatever it was that you did saved his life. Get some rest. 

Real. So... all of that had been real and not some hopeful hallucination as Leon bled out. Her hands started shaking more violently. The memory of having her hands sink into Leon's body was a visceral one. Amara felt sick to her stomach. 

Sure, Chris' message said that it had worked. That Leon would be okay. But... Amara didn't, couldn't , understand how she had done that. How she had just known which organs and bones had been damaged. What needed healing. Her breathing picked up, ragged and fast, and... 

Panic attack. She was having a panic attack. There had to be answers somewhere. Someone had to have some kind of idea of what she'd done. She... TriCell. Maybe they would know. 

Fingers shaking, she hunted through her contacts for the number Lorraine had plugged into her phone. She found it and quickly pressed the call button. Her leg bounced nervously as she waited for the one woman who might have an explanation for the insanity going on to answer her phone. 

“Lorraine speaking,” the woman answered in a rough voice. It took a moment for Amara to realize she’d woken the other woman up.

"Ms. Kavle. Lorraine. I'm so sorry for waking you but... But I need help," Amara began, poorly veiled panic making her voice pitch higher than normal. "Something happened and... and..." 

Restlessness filled her, and she jumped up from the bed, starting to pace back and forth as she tried to think of how to phrase things. The soft, fluffy carpet rubbed against the soles of her bare feet. When she looked down, she could see her toes sinking into that softness. A shudder ran through her. It was too reminiscent of her healing Leon… 

No. No, no, no, Amara thought desperately, rushing for the bathroom. 

She slammed the door shut behind her. The cool, solidness of the tile beneath her was a relief. She sank down to the ground, pressing her hand against the tile as if it were a lifeline...

"-ara? Amara!" Lorraine's voice was commanding yet was pitched to be low and soothing. "I need you to focus for me. Breathe in, count to ten, and then breathe out. Can you do that for me?”

"Yes…" Amara shakily replied. 

She took a shaky breath in and mentally counted to ten. And when she let her breath go, she counted to ten once more. She bit her lower lip to contain a whimper. 

“Good. That’s it," Lorraine continued in a gentle tone. "Do that as many times as you need to, and then tell me what’s wrong."

Amara took a few more breaths before trying to speak. Despite her best efforts, she quickly found herself rambling. 

"We encountered a large B.O.W," she said in a rush. "There was something strange about it, beyond just the mutations. There were signs of rot and, and Leon was injured severely during the fight... and I... You know about my healing. But I can only heal myself. Or I thought I could only heal myself. But I healed him and... and my hands. They melted into him . They were inside him, and I-I knew what was wrong and-and..."

“Wait,” Lorraine’s voice, confused, cut her off. “What do you mean your hands melted into Leon?  You mean as you… healed him?”

"Y-yes. It was like he-or maybe I? I don't know. It was like one of us was made of water or putty or something ," Amara said, one hand gesticulating wildly as she spoke. Tears welled up in her eyes. She was changing again. She knew it. "I wanted to- needed to heal him! I can't-I don't... Why ?! What's happening to me? I... I healed someone else. By putting my hands in..."

A thought hit her. Hard. She started to hyperventilate, her voice rising to a small whine. 

"Oh my god… I could have… so many people. I could have saved them… I… I let them die," she said weakly, curling up and pressing her head to her knees. 

“Electron repulsion!” Lorraine said rather abruptly. 

Amara could hear the other woman as she snapped her fingers. Like she had just recalled something. It was enough to jolt Amara out of her immediate panic and make her stare at the phone in her hand in open confusion. 

“I... W-what?” pure, incredulous bewilderment settled around her thoughts as she put the phone back to her ear. 

What followed was a mess of scientific jargon that Amara could barely follow, given her current mental state. Something about how a person, how everything really, had a natural ‘electromagnetic field’ that kept everything from literally sinking into other people or other things.

Okay... Okay. What Lorraine was saying made some sense, sure. But how was she suddenly negating this supposed field? If it was even what was happening. Amara blinked and let out a sudden bark of laughter. Lorraine felt silent before letting out an amused laugh of her own. 

“I suppose we both traded a decent amount of ‘word vomit’ there, didn’t we?” Lorraine said, breath hitching in her throat as she hiccuped. She coughed away from the phone and then came back. “Sorry. Okay. So you’re not sinking into things right now, right?”

“No… I’m not. Everythings solid. I mean, I think everything is solid,” Amara stood up and reached out to poke the mirror and then the countertop, and then, after hesitating a moment, she poked herself in the side. “Yeah. Things are solid.”

“And this only happened when you were healing Leon?” Lorraine hummed contemplatively over the phone. “I’d have your on-site medic check you over. If you healed him but had to… to merge with him, let’s say, then you may have been literally sharing your essence with him. I’d have someone check your red and white blood cell count immediately. Maybe your marrow, too, given how quickly you heal. Hm. Were you injured? Or did you pass out?”

“Only minor injuries,” Amara responded. “They healed faster than normal too. And yeah, I passed out immediately after I felt Leon's wounds close over.”

“Enough to feel like you had just donated a large amount of blood?” Lorraine pressed with a thoughtful hum. 

“I… don’t know? Maybe?” Amara frowned at the thought. 

She’d never actually donated before, so it was hard to answer that one. She'd lost large amounts of blood before, though, and it had felt similar enough to passing out after sustaining a bad injury. 

“Yeah, get some blood work done,” the other woman said. Amara could hear the sound of nails tap-tap-tapping against a wooden surface. “It’s possible that you were doing a kind of direct donation to save Leon. Giving of your body to restore his own.”

“If… if you’re right… Could I help others too?” she asked hesitantly. "Could I have helped others in the past?"

"Answering your second question first," Lorraine responded in a gentle but firm voice. "I seriously doubt it. As to the first, I would only suggest making attempts at healing minor injuries right now and even then, not often."

"Why not?" Amara pressed, bracing her hand against the sink. "If I could-"

"Amara, no ," Lorraine cut her off firmly. "You said you lost consciousness after healing Leon. Like the ice, this is a new ability. You do not want to overwork yourself. Not only that, but if this does drain you when you are healing someone else, you cannot use it carelessly. You’d risk killing yourself in the process, and that will do no one any good. Small wounds only.”

“Okay… okay, I can do that,” Amara said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But… Why now? Why am I changing so much?”

"Honestly? It’s likely because of Eve,” Lorraine said with another thoughtful hum and what almost sounded like a bitten-off yawn. “From the reports I've read, you’ve only seen a spike in your abilities since the woman started attacking New York. And your powers only showed up in the first place during the attack where Chris found you. Your body is probably changing so you can better defend yourself and those around you.”

“Do you think the changes will be permanent?” Amara asked hesitantly. She was still a bit shaky, but she was feeling better. A little less panicked. “Or… that they’ll… Will I end up like Eve?”

“As for the first question, it’s possible. They could also go dormant entirely or become less potent,” Lorraine said, and there was another thoughtful tap-tap-tap. “As for the latter, I doubt it. You aren’t feeling the urge to help or obey Eve, right?”

“No!” Amara yelled, jolting up as a wave of anger flooded through her. Just the thought of helping that woman pissed her off. “I would never -!”

“Easy! I’m not saying you would,” Lorraine said in a soothing tone. “I’m just asking if you’ve felt any kind of a pull toward her outside of sensing her and her pets.”

“No… I... If anything, I’m feeling a pull toward Ay-Officer Brea,” Amara responded, turning and leaning back against the counter. 

"Fair enough. There’s something different about you and Officer Brea,” Lorraine said with a low sigh. “Otherwise, I imagine you’d have already been affected by Eve’s abilities. No. My hypothesis stands for the moment. Your powers are growing to protect or fight against Eve. Like a T-Cell being sent to fight off an attacking virus. However, I would suggest not relying overmuch on those powers if you can help it. Especially not after we neutralize Eve. There is always the possibility that the boost is temporary."

“O-okay,” Amara responded before letting out a tired sigh. “I… Thanks, Lor.”

“You’re welcome,” Lorraine said. She let out another stifled yawn. “I’m going to let you go. Keep me updated...Oh! A larger shipment of inhibitors should be arriving on-site within the next few hours.”

“Really?” Amara perked up a little at that. “That’s good! We used three of them to save some of the officers in the Precinct. Wait. No. Four. We used one on one of the dogs. They kept them from mutating.”

She really didn’t want to think about the dogmen. Lorraine would get the medical and mission reports anyway. She’d be able to see the horror that was the fusion between man and K-nine for herself. 

“Good,” Lorraine said, relief in her voice. “That’s very good to hear. That's why we made them. Try to get some rest.”

“You too,” Amara responded. “Again, sorry for waking you.”

“Eh,” she could almost see the woman shrug. “Happens more than you’d think with this job. At least I don’t have to go on field missions.”

“Lucky,” Amara said with an almost playful whine. “Night.”

"Night," came the semi-cheery response.

Amara hung up and set the phone down on the countertop. She took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. Part of her felt like she'd forgotten something important in the middle of her panic. The rest of her was simply relieved after talking to the TriCell rep. If she was changing to better fight Eve, well, Amara wasn’t about to complain too much. Eve was dangerous. The creatures she controlled were dangerous. 

They needed every advantage they could get right now. 

Amara left the bathroom, running her fingers through her hair. She let out a discontented noise and immediately grabbed a change of clothes and hopped into the shower. Amara walked back out ten minutes later, clean and in fresh clothes. She noticed a box sitting on the opposite bedside table and moved back toward the bed. There was a note atop it. Frowning, she walked over and picked it up. 

Good on you, girl! With love, from Tanya. 

She let out a weak chuckle and sat down at the foot of the bed before hesitatingly opening the package. Hopefully, it was just some lingerie, and she could… Nope. She wasn’t that lucky, apparently. 

Amara could feel the blush spreading up her face as she looked inside. The contents within the box were many and varied. There was a skimpy little lingerie outfit sheer enough that she might as well not wear it at all. Beneath it, there were two normal-sized dildos, a vibrator, and... and then things got weird. 

There was a box labeled 'Mr. Ed' that Amara immediately pegged as something horse-shaped. There were a series of adjustable ball gags, including one that was inflatable. There was a box labeled 'The Monster' that she wasn't even going to try to get a closer look at. On and on it went. About twenty-five items, all told. 

One thing did catch her attention, though. A box labeled 'the Ovipositor' had a black silk bag tied to it. The curiosity got to her, and she reached out for the bag, detaching it from the box. She opened the bag and peeked hesitantly inside. Silicone eggs?

What in the world? she thought to herself with a confounded blink. 

As she reached inside to take one of the eggs out, the bedroom door opened up. Letting out a startled, if somewhat guilty sounding little 'meep' of noise, she jolted in place. In her frantic bid to try to hide the box, she instead lost her grip on both the bag and the box, sending both falling to the ground. 

The little boxes of 'toys' fell out of the larger box, scattering across the floor. Eggs went rolling every which way. One of the eggs came to a stop at... at Chris' foot. 

The man in question blinked down at the toy and then looked over the rest of the boxes now strewn about the hotel room floor. His eyes met her own, his gaze filled with humor and mischief.

"Kinky," he said in a dry tone.

Amara wanted to die of embarrassment right then and there.

"T-these were gifts! From Tanya! A prank, I swear!" she shouted, cheeks heating up. 

She stood, scrambling to gather all the smaller boxes and shove them haphazardly into the larger box before shoving it under the bed. She sat down on the bed a moment later, placing her face in her hands and letting out a muffled scream. Chris snickered softly. 

"Oh, my god," Amara said, lowering her hands. "I'm gonna kill her."

"Easy now," Chris said, trying to contain his laughter. He picked up the egg she'd left by his foot and moved to sit next to her. "I'm teasing you a little. Tanya swung by the hotel room to check on you and was very adamant you opened your gift when you woke up, so we left it by the bed."

Amara just let out a squeak in response to that, burying her face back in her hands. 

"Hey. It's okay," Chris gave her a one-armed hug and tucked his face into the crook of her neck. "Thank you for Leon. He'll be by soon. Ver is checking him over one more time, but he's okay."

"You don't have to thank me," she said, lowering her hands and reaching out to brush her hand through his hair. "I'm glad I was able to help him."

"He was going to die," Chris said, and she could feel him shudder. "I've seen those kinds of injuries before. You didn't see the amount of blood left pooled around him… Too much. Far too much. I…"

He pulled back, taking a calming breath and running his hand through his hair. Amara could see the signs of tears in the redness of his eyes. In the dark patches under his eyes. She reached out and ran a hand soothingly over his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, closing his hand over hers. 

"Ver checked you over earlier," he said softly. "Instructed bed rest for you today if we could manage it. Somehow, you lost a lot of blood yourself. Did that thing hit you? I assume you healed up like before?"

"No, it didn't hit me," Amara responded with a small shake of her head. Everything that Lorraine went over with her was a bit of a jumble, but one thing, in particular, had stood out. "I think I gave Leon some of my blood to compensate for the blood that he lost and helped heal his broken ribs and punctured lung in the process…."

"Yeah?" Chris leaned back with a thoughtful frown. "That would fit what Ver was thinking might have happened. Except you two don't have the same blood type. Huh. How did it bypass the…? Never mind. We can figure that out later. You saved his life. Thank you."

"You don't have to keep thanking me, Chris," she said, rolling her eyes playfully. She leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Want to lay down? You look like you need some rest."

"No time for sleep," he said with a dry laugh. He grinned abruptly, wrapping an arm around Amara's waist before falling back and taking her with him so that they were both laying down. She let out a meep as he rolled over her, one hand propping him up, so he wasn't squishing her. He held up the egg. "I think I may have other ideas to help us pass the time while waiting for the others to report?"

"I..." she chuckled and playfully glared up at him. "And what are you thinking, you naughty man?"

"Hm…" he leaned in to press his mouth against her own. "I could just show you if you'd like?"

Before he could continue, though, they heard the door open. They both looked up to see a slightly worn but healthy Leon walk inside, armored vest in one hand. He blinked at the pair for a moment before grinning a boyish grin that took a few years off his face. 

"Starting without me? I see how it is," Leon joked, walking over to the bed. He let his armor fall to the ground at the foot of the bed and climbed over to where Chris had Amara all but pinned. "Hey there, Yuki-onna."

"Hey," Amara smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. "How are you feeling? Any ill effects?"

"None," Leon said, giving her palm a gentle kiss. "Things are still tender around the wound site, but you healed me up nicely. Thank you, my Yuki-onna."

"You're welcome," she said with a relieved sigh. "I'm just glad you're both safe."

"Same," Chris murmured, leaning in to kiss her neck before looking at Leon with a wicked grin. "Can you check the box under the bed? I know I saw some lube mix in that mess..."

Leon shot him a confused look but slipped off the bed and knelt down to grab the box in question. A surprised, amused, and yet also pleased noise filled the air a second later. His head popped back into view.

"Tanya's 'gift'?" he asked with a laugh.

"Yup," Chris responded with a wide grin. 

"I didn't ask that woman for those gifts!" she whined, covering her face with her hands. 

"Doesn't mean we can't have fun with some of them," Chris said, tugging her hands back down and kissing her nose. 

"Some of these are pretty nice. A couple of gag ones... I assume you don't want 'The Monster?'" Leon asked as he dropped back down and began rummaging through the box. "Ah. The 'Ovipositor' explains the 'eggs.' I was wondering for a moment there…."

"We can keep the eggs," Chris said, leaning back run his fingers down the front of Amara's body, making her shiver. "Good for Kegel exercises. Learn how to grip down like a damned vise."

"Masochist," Leon said in a mock-accusing tone.

"Sometimes," Chris grinned back unrepentantly.

"I hope you two are planning on going easy on me," she said in a shy voice, knowing her cheeks were bright red. "My sexual experience is… Well, it's non-existent."

Leon's head popped up again, surprise clear on his face. Chris was out from over her and next to her side in a flash. Both of them moved to sit on either side of her. She looked up at their suddenly serious faces. Leon took one of her hands in his own, and Chris mirrored him on the other side.

"Non-existent?" Leon repeated in a gentle tone. "I'm sorry. We assumed, especially with an ex involved-"

"Ex-slash-Asshole whose face is going to have an accident involving my fist," Chris muttered. Leon smacked his arm.

"Hush," he looked back at Amara. "We assumed you had some experience."

"No," she said, feeling a burst of shame and guilt slam through her. Here she was, ruining the atmosphere with her issues... "I wasn't worth it."

"You are worth it," Leon stressed, gently turning her head, so she was looking at him. "So very worth it. Chris has appreciated your kindness and skill for a while now. And I can see that, too. You’re a good woman. Loyal, strong, and intelligent."

She felt the shadowy guilt at the back of her mind fade a little at his words. 

"Asshole was probably tearing you down as much as he could," Chris began with a growl, "so when he did finally start pushing for sex, you'd feel 'honored' by his attention. Seen it before during my time in STARS."

"We can still fool around if you want, Yuki-onna," Leon said in a gentle voice, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. He was so warm . "We can take it slow if you want to as well."

"I... I think I'd like that," she responded with a shy smile, wiping at her eyes to clear away the tears.

"Alright," Leon passed the container of lube that he'd found and held it out to Chris. "Let's start with a show, yeah?"

Leon rose up, letting go of her hand slowly. Teasingly. He winked at her and took a few steps away from the bed. Closer to the open window. Turning away from them, he slowly pulled his shirt off, revealing his muscled backside one slow inch at a time. He stretched out gradually as he did so - almost like a lazy cat - as he pulled the shirt off and over his head. 

As edible as he looked, Amara noticed the muscles of his right side strain and jump with his movements. She made to stand up, feeling concerned, but Chris held her back with a hand on her stomach. 

"It's okay," the brunette purred into her ear. "Leon wouldn't have offered if he didn't think he was up to it."

"O-okay," she said, easing back. 

Leon chuckled, letting his hands fall back to his sides. The shirt slipped from his fingers as he turned back around. He smirked at them playfully and tilted his head. The light of the sun painted the colors of dusk over his skin. Highlight it in hues of orange, purple, and pink.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Chris whispered against her ear, lips teasing over the shell.

Nodding, she tracked Leon's movements with wide eyes. Heat pooled low in her belly. Leon's smirk turned outright wicked as he leaned back a little, slowly undoing his belt buckle. The leather slid through the loops with a soft hiss that made Amara shiver. Chris let out a pleased growl next to her and shifted to sit behind her, almost pulling her onto his lap in the process while kissing the back of her neck.

“You alright with a little restraint-play,” Chris rumbled in her ear, voice vibrating against her back, “or do you need your hands free?”

"I… I think I can handle a little restraint play,” Amara said quietly, leaning back against him.

“Alright, We’ll keep it simple. You say ‘red,’ and we stop, okay?” he asked as he leaned down to kiss her neck. His teeth briefly scraped over the skin. “Belt or cuffs?”

"I... either-or," she said breathlessly, biting her lip as Leon started toward them. 

Leon reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He held them up with another boyish grin that was chock full of mischief. 

“Put them on,” he purred as he tossed them to her. 

She caught them, looking them over nervously before closing them loosely around her wrists.

"Like this?" she asked, holding her hands up for inspection. 

“Just like that,” Chris chuckled into her ear. He guided her arms up and back over her head so that her elbows were pointed at the ceiling and her hands were pressed against the back of his neck. “Now, let’s watch the show, hm?”

Leon chuckled and reached forward, undoing the top buttons of Amara’s shirt. Deft fingers teased over the skin along her collar bone, making her shiver. He winked and started to back up, biting enticingly into his lower lip as he undid the button of his pants. His thumb caught against the top of the zipper, and he oh so slowly started to lower it down. She bit into her own lip to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from her. Chris chuckled low and deep behind her, the noise reverberating against her back. The brunette reached up to undo a few more of her shirt's buttons.

Chris trailed his fingers over her collarbone - prompting another strong shiver - before they slid down the front of her body. He dug his nails in just a bit and drew a whimper from her. The brunette then nipped at her ear even as Leon hooked his thumbs into the band of his pants and started to push them and his boxers down. Right before he would have revealed his straining length, he turned around, revealing the muscled curves of his taut ass. 

“He’s a damn tease, isn’t he?” Chris growled in her ear. 

Whimpering, she arched into Chris' touch, eyes never leaving Leon's form. She nodded, finding it hard to talk. Leon glanced over his shoulder, winking at them. He gave the waistbands of his pants and boxers a firm shove, and the clothes fell to pool on the ground. He took a step forward, out of the pile of clothes, and once more arched upward, hands outstretched as if reaching for the ceiling. Chris groaned low in his throat behind her. Callus-tipped fingers dipped down the line of her own waistband in a teasing touch. 

“Leon,” Chris growled, his tone almost but not quite a whine. 

“Yes, Chris?” Leon purred, letting his arms fall slowly to trail down the front of his body, and he let out a low moan. 

Can't fucking see what he's doing, dammit! she thought to herself desperately. 

Chris let out another growl, rising up onto his knees behind her, forcing her up with him. His fingers moved, swift and nimble, to undo her belt, the button, and the zipper in quick movements. She trembled against him. One last quick tug and her pants and underwear were forced down around her ankles. 

“Get over here and give our Firebrand a kiss,” Chris ordered in a dark, hungry tone.

Amara pressed her legs together, squirming against the male at her back. A needy little whine filled the air, and she realized a moment later that she'd made that noise. She blushed. Leon let out a low laugh and looked her over with a smile. He then turned around and slowly began to walk toward them with a leonine gait. Her eyes tracked slowly down the front of Leon's body, drinking in the sight of him, and... her eyes landed on his bobbing length, so hard and eager. For her and Chris both. 

Leon bent forward as if to kiss her. She eagerly leaned toward him. Before their lips could touch, he dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to her already damp slit. His tongue flicked out over her, hot and wet. Good. So good. 

Moaning, she did her best to hold still and not jerk away from his touch. It was intense. It was new. Good. She leaned back against Chris, trying to keep her breathing even as Leon started to lap his tongue over her in slow passes that ratcheted her need for them higher still. Amara wriggled about as much as she could, panting and whining low in her throat. Chris' hands fell to her sides, holding her steady while Leon continued to eat her out. His tongue teased at her entrance, and her eyes fluttered shut. 

"Oh... oh god," she managed to say, gaspingfor air. 

"That's it, Firebrand," Chris murmured, kissing her neck lightly. "Feels good, doesn't it? He's got a clever tongue, wouldn't you agree? Not just good for talking his way out of trouble."

"Or into trouble," Leon said, pulling back with a smirk as he tugged Amara's pants off her ankles.

"Back to work, Kennedy," Chris ordered in a low voice. "I didn't say you could stop, now did I?"

"Hmm," Leon grinned, shifting Amara's legs so that the bend of her knees rested on Leon's shoulders. She was left hanging between them like an off-kilter hammock. He kissed her inner thigh. "Make me."

"Leon… Chris…” she whimpered. She felt close already, and he'd only been teasing her for a few minutes. Hanging between them like this was... was awkward but hot as hell. " Please… "

"See what you've done, Leon?" Chris rumbled, reaching forward to run his fingers through the other man's hair. He grabbed Leon by the hair and yanked his head back down. "Stop being a tease and make her cum."

"Mmph!" Leon chuckled against her, the sound vibrating against her mound. He pulled back enough to talk. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Leon's mouth closed over her clit, and he applied a light suckling pressure. His tongue danced circles around the sensitive nub. The constant teasing sent little jolts up her spine, making her legs jolt against his back. Two fingers teased around her entrance and slowly pressed in. Her eyes fluttered shut as her inner walls clamped down around the intrusion. 

It was strange. Having another person's fingers inside of her. She was used to her toys. Not that she used them often. Hells, she was usually busy and just... She just hadnt had time to indulge. Too much to do. Too much to learn and… This was better. Much better because she didn't know what he'd do next, and the suspense was enough to curl her toes.

He abruptly let out a low, reverberating moan against her skin. Her body jolted between them, her heels tapping a rough beat against Leon's back and her nails clawing over the back of Chris' neck. The male at her back continued to hold her in place, fingers massaging her hips. Leon's tongue moved in faster and faster little flicks. His fingers slid deeper, curling inward before starting to tap-tap-tap at her insides. 

She let out a strangled noise, arching between them as he kept up that quick little rhythm against her g-spot. 

"I-I'm... I..." another high whine escaped her as that metaphorical coil in her gut snapped . “Oh god! Leon !”

Both of them held her firmly through the throes of her orgasm, arms wrapped firmly around her waist and legs, respectively. Chris murmured soothingly in her ear. Words that she couldn't understand over the thudding of her heart in her ears. Eventually, she fell limp between them, shivering. Leon shifted her legs from his shoulders, kissing his way up her stomach and chest, nipping at the side of each breast. He pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth as he rubbed his length - sheathed at some point in a condom - against her drenched slit. 

“Ready, Yuki-onna?” he purred against her mouth. 

"Y-yeah," she responded breathlessly, looking at him with a euphoric expression on her face. 

Her head fell back against Chris' shoulder, and the brunette kissed the side of her throat as Leon rose up, guiding her legs to wrap loosely around his waist. He reached between them, guiding the tip of his cock to her entrance. Amara tensed... only to slowly relax as Chris began to rub his hands soothingly over her stomach and chest, placing little kisses to her neck and ear. Leon let out a low groan as he sank into her, inch by slow inch. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Chris murmured against her skin. She wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Leon. 

Leon let out a low groan, though, and nodded his head. Amara found herself squirming a little, trying not to whimper. The stretching sensation of his length filling her was almost uncomfortable, but... She’d never felt as… as full as this before. The width and length of him were… wonderful . Leon bottomed out within her, and she jolted when she felt his length twitch within her. This time, Leon was the one who whimpered.

"Y-you can m-more," Amara managed to say, gasping for breath. 

"If you're sure," Leon asked, turning to press his mouth to hers in another tongue-lashing kiss. 

"I'm sure," she said as she pulled back, using Chris as leverage to lift herself up and press back down onto the hard length of Leon's cock. 

Leon let out a strained laugh, lashing her another boyish grin as he leaned back. He shifted one arm around her waist to help guide her. The other pressed down against the edge of the bed. Chris moaned in her ear as Leon started to move, and she realized that the sandy-haired blonde had braced himself just right so that his arm rubbed against Chris' crotch with every thrust. 

Chris' hands slid up to caress and tease her breasts and nipples while Leon moved between her legs. Her legs tightened around the slender male's waist. The slow glide in and out of her slick heat had his length rubbing over all the right places. Within minutes it felt like that metaphorical spring in her was coiled tight once more. Amara shifted her hands about, tangling her fingers in Chris' short-cut hair and holding tight. 

"C-Chris. Leon ," she inhaled roughly, letting the breath out in a whine. "I'm gonna... oh god."

“You're so sensitive. It’s beautiful,” Chris purred, hand moving to turn her head so he could kiss her. “That’s it. Let go for us.”

“So good around me,” Leon growled, and she could hear the strain in his voice as he leaned forward to nip her ear. “Tight and sweet. Fall apart for us, Yuki-onna."

And fall apart, she did. Every thrust between her legs, every pinch to her nipples, only heightened the pleasure for her. Again that heat pooled through her over the course of several minutes of pure sensation... and then that coil snapped again, leaving her shouting wordlessly at the ceiling. Leon groaned low in his throat as her body convulsed and squeezed down tight around his shaft. His length pulsed and jerked within her, his thrusts short and harsh as he came with her. Chris let out a satisfied groan in her ear. 

“Both of you… so good to watch,” he murmured against her ear. 

Chris abruptly pulled her up and off of Leon, forcing a whine from her. Leon let out his own whimper of complaint, falling back to sprawl against the floor, hands braced behind him to keep himself from falling over entirely. She looked him over hungrily, and he smirked lasciviously up at her. 

There was a low growl at her back, and Amara jerked her head around to look at Chris with wide eyes. He smirked down at her, his eyes dark with hunger. He tucked her hands under her legs, winging them wide. She squirmed about, helpless. 

“Leon… undo my pants,” Chris ordered in a low voice that was dark with promise. 

“Alright,” Leon said, looking up at Amara heatedly through his mussed hair. He smirked and leaned forward, briefly teasing her stomach before dropping his hands down to undo Chris’ belt and pull the zipper down to free the taller man’s length. She tried to look, but the angle was all wrong. “Ready for round three, Yuki-onna?”

Her breathing picked up, and she swallowed roughly. Her body still felt all tingly after that last orgasm, and she felt exhausted. Despite that, her insides clenched at Leon's question. Leon grinned up at her, tilting his head and hiding one of his eyes behind a curtain of her hair. He winked at her before popping a fresh condom into his mouth before going down on Chris. 

Chris buried his face against her neck, letting out another deep, rumbling growl. Strong fingers dug into her legs. Hard enough to cause a small ache, but not enough to hurt. Not really. She arched against him, turning her head toward him. He jerked upward, slamming his mouth against her own in a heated kiss. Teeth nipped at her lower lip. Whining low in her throat, she missed Leon pulling back from Chris' cock... but she certainly didn't miss that thick tip pressing against her entrance. 

She pulled back from the kiss with a gasp and then let out a startled, pleasured scream as Chris jerked her down and onto his cock. The pace he set was far harsher than the gentleness that Leon had shown, yet was still controlled and oh so good . 

Sweat dripped down her chest, and Leon leaned forward to blow a cooling breath over her skin. She shivered, making him chuckle darkly as Chris continued to bounce her up and down on his thicker cock. Leon kissed his way up the front of her body, teeth briefly catching her nipple as her breasts bounced up and down. She squirmed at the tugging sensation, inner walls clenching around Chris, forcing a hungry, almost wolfish snarl from him. 

Chris let go of her legs, one arm wrapping tight around her waist and the other reaching between her legs to rub a quick, circular rhythm over her clit. A low rumble built in his chest, and his thrusts grew just a little harsher. As her head fell back, he let out a snarl, turning to crash his mouth back against her own as he yanked her down and held her in place. The head of his cock pressed deep, the entire length twitching within her. Amara let out a muffled howl against his mouth as the pressure within her snapped, and she peaked for the third time. 

The two men let out pleased noises, both of them moving further back up onto the bed and bringing her dazed with them. Chris shifted her arms over his head, and they fell into a loose puppy pile. She smiled at them a little dazedly, snuggling between the two. 

"It's a good thing... I can heal so fast," she mumbled in a tired voice. "You both put me through the wringer. Might still have a little bit of an issue walking…."

"Mmhmm," Chris shared a smirk with Leon over her head. "She's still talking…"

"I think you've lost your touch," Leon sassed back, hand gliding down Amara's thigh and making her shiver. 

"Well, we can fix that easily enough," Chris said with a deep, husky laugh. 

"Should I get one of the toys?" Leon purred, leaning down to kiss and nip at Amara's stomach, making her giggle. 

"Are you two punishing me for something?" she asked with a breathless laugh. "At least let me take a small break, please? Also… may I have my hands free?"

Chris' eyes darkened hungrily, and he shifted her around so that she was laying on her back. He jerked his head at Leon, who chuckled and moved not to the box like she expected but to the bathroom. Her head rose, and she raised a brow at Chris, who just smirked at her. She heard the water running for a moment before the other man came back with a glass and handed it to her for her to drink. Chris idly trailed his fingers down her side. 

"I think we'll leave you bound for now, Firebrand," Chris said with a smirk.

She let out a huff and took the glass, taking a few quick gulps. Chris took the glass next and Leon last, all of them having hydrated some. 

"You should be careful," Amara said with a small laugh as she leaned in against Chris. "I might discover a way to tease you both."

"Looking forward to it, Firebrand. Just be warned," Chris responded with a smirk, "I punish bad behavior…."

"Mmm…" Leon crawled onto the bed, kissing the other man. "We should probably show her how you punish me."

"You just want an excuse to be a brat," Chris said in a dry tone.

"I need an excuse?" Leon said with wide, innocent eyes as he set the glass aside. 

"You know... I think I can break these," Amara said thoughtfully, holding up her hands and looking over the cuffs. 

She pressed one finger to one link, warming it with her powers before trying to switch to ice to quick-chill the metal. After a moment, she yanked her hands apart, and the link snapped. 

"It worked!" Amara crowed happily. She smirked and looked at them as an idea hit her. "Hey, how about we see how you both like temperature play?"

Leon let out a low moan, easing back from her as if he were a skittish fox and leaving the front of his body exposed and open for her to see. He was already half-hard again at the suggestion. Chris let out a low growl deep in his throat. A warning sound. He moved to pin her back against the bed.

"You… are a naughty, naughty little thing, Firebrand," he growled against her mouth. 

Giggling, she smiled up at him. The darkness from earlier had been chased from her thoughts, and she felt warm. Safe. Oh… but she was eager indeed to see what else they might do. Tonight was going to be a good night, no matter what happened next.

Chapter Text

I woke to the sound of my phone going off and let out a low, growling moan of discontent. Dammit all. I opened one eye and glanced at the clock on the end table. It was only twelve am! Who in the hell was calling me? Even if it was someone from New York, it was only five am there. Wesker stirred at my back - he'd spent the night with me again, to my surprise - and his head rose briefly. When it registered that it was my phone going off and not his , he let out his own growly noise and rolled over, freeing me to get up. 

The urge to laugh was strong. One, Wesker had bed-head, and I'd never once thought to see his hair out of place before we'd started fucking. Two, the noise he'd made was almost, dare I say it, cute. I’d known the man for years now, and here I was, learning new things about him.

But then again, we'd only started our little 'relationship' less than three days ago now. When asked, we were feeding our co-workers a lie of 'three years.' Which was just weird. 

The phone was still ringing, so I rolled out of bed and grabbed it, looking at the screen. I blinked in surprise. Amara was calling me? So soon after that heated conversation about Wesker? Was it about her ex? I felt a small surge of anger run through me. I'd hoped to have bought her some time. Still, if the man was pressing his luck, then I'd see if I could speed up the process of dealing with him. 

Wesker had been amused by my immediate offer to help the younger woman out. It wasn't often that I acted without thought, but the instinct to step in had been too strong to ignore. It certainly helped that Richard Richardson turned out to be on his list of 'fools to be dealt with.' Made it easier for me to argue for him to push for the man's removal from office. Hopefully, he'd end up in jail at the end of it all. 

"Lorraine speaking," I said as I answered the phone, my voice still rough with sleep. 

"Ms. Kavle. Lorraine. I apologize for waking you…? But I need help. Something happened…" Amara's voice shook with poorly veiled terror. 

Frowning, I stood and walked over to my dresser, away from Wesker's dozing form. I knew he hadn't gone back to sleep. That he was paying attention, but I'd learned that even he needed some lazy time every now and then. 

Amara's voice broke in my ear, and I frowned. That hitched note. The rapid pattern of her breathing. Panic attack. Oh, that wasn't good. Something big had happened. Bad enough that she’d forgotten my relationship, such as it was currently, with Wesker. Not good at all. 

“Amara? Amara? Amara!” I called out to her, keeping my tone low and soothing. Yeah, it was my 'concerned' customer service voice, but if it worked, it worked. "I need you to focus for me. Breathe in, count to ten, and then breathe out. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes…” the woman’s voice was a thready thing, but she did as I asked. I heard lazy rustling from behind me as Wesker shifted around. 

“Good. That’s it,” I continued, leaning against the dresser and angling myself so I could see the bed in the wide mirror mounted above it. I’d move to another room if this disturbed him too much more. “Do that as many times as you need, and then tell me what’s wrong.”

It took her a few moments to calm down and try to talk again. She tried again... only to start rambling in a mess of what my dead husband called 'word vomit.' I frowned as I tried to parse out what she was talking about. There'd been an attack. From the sound of it, one of the Eve-strain BOWs had been partially rotting, which... wasn't a good sign. 

If they hadn't already done so, I'd need to see about submitting a request to our mole to obtain a sample. If it was anything like the trail run Wesker had done, then we'd need to confirm and then destroy the body thoroughly. The faster, the better. We did not need Eve having access to creatures infected with both her strain and the T. 

Something Amara said jolted me out of my thoughts.

“Wait,” I cut in, blinking rapidly in confusion. “What do you mean your hands melted into Leon as you healed him?”

Movement in the mirror caught my eye, and I glanced into the reflection. Wesker had propped himself up on his elbows and was looking at me with a raised brow. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. I covered my mouth to hide a grin, and his eyes narrowed. I stifled the smile, waving my hand at him before turning my focus back to the woman rambling in my ear. Something about what she said made me think of a paper about quantum physics I’d come across. Something about… fuck what was it again?

Natural bodily barriers... Something that... Oh!

“Electron repulsion!” I said excitedly, snapping my fingers as the memory hit me. 

“I… what?” I could hear Amara’s confusion clear as day. 

“Electron repulsion," I repeated, looking up at the ceiling with a hum. "Alright, so if I remember right... The gist is that everyone and everything has its own electromagnetic field. Ah… If you will, think of it as the tiniest, thinnest little shield around your body. That shield prevents other objects from passing through the mass that makes up a person's body and protects said objects from people and animals doing the same. That ‘shield’ is there because two electrons can never actually touch. They repulse each other by their very nature. Our brain interprets the pressure of the electrons pushing against each other as 'touch.'"

Wesker slid out of bed and stalked over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, letting his chin fall to rest on my shoulder next to the phone. To anyone else, it would look like Wesker was being affectionate. And perhaps, in a way, he was. But I knew he was simply angling himself to better hear both sides of the conversation with Amara. 

"It makes sense," I started, shifting to lean back against the tall male behind me. "If Eve's abilities work by bypassing that electromagnetic field on a molecular level, then some of her abilities start to make a lot more sense. Especially the ranged effects and the… the melting of people into puddles. Even what you're describing could be possible. This is fas-"

Amara's sudden bark of nervous laughter cut me off. I blinked and then let out a soft chuckle. I pinched my nose and shook my head. 

"I suppose we both traded a decent amount of ‘word vomit’ there, didn’t we?" I said, chuckling. My breath locked up as Wesker's hand suddenly dipped to tease along the front of my body, brushing over my bare stomach. I tried to hide the hitch with a fake cough and glared at his reflection in the mirror. He smirked back at me, dragon-eyes filled with dark mischief. "Sorry. Okay. So you’re not sinking into things right now, right?”

Amara responded in the negative, and our conversation continued for several more minutes. Honestly, I'd almost said it, and it might sound cold, but what was happening with her was a touch fascinating. Wesker was bloody well rubbing off on me in that sense. But honestly, to be able to heal someone like that was awe-inspiring in a way. Sadly, I could think of several risks around such an ability without even trying. And that was without having a doctorate under my belt. 

Her ability might drain her when she used it to start with. Or she might inadvertently draw on others if hurt, causing them more harm. 

I had no way to ask what Wesker thought about things yet. He remained silent, thoughtful... and a gods damned tease. Wesker was being an absolute ass while I talked to the younger woman. As I spoke, he seemed dead-set on returning the favor I'd paid him while under his office desk during his meeting. All teasing and drawn-out pleasure. 

His nails scratched over the sensitive spots along my sides. His teeth nipped and bit at the skin along my neck and shoulder, careful not to jostle the phone. Clever fingers darted inside me only to pull out a moment later to trail wetly up and down along my inner thigh. 

He made it damned hard to focus, but I did what I could to stifle the noises he drew from me. Amara thankfully didn't notice or was polite enough to ignore the noises that slipped from me. Occasionally, I nervously tapped my fingers against the smooth wood of the dresser. At one point, it was a struggle to not moan outright when he did something especially wicked - like teasing at my rear passage with fingers slicked with my own juices. Or biting down into the flesh of my shoulder hard enough that I knew I'd be bruised while giving my clit a small pinch. 

The way he reached up and cupped my breasts, doing nothing more than teasing the nipples while meeting my gaze in the mirror, was enticing and...

Okay… yup. Apparently, I was up to being fucked in front of a mirror. That was bloody-well new! 

I quickly let Amara know about the batch of inhibitors being sent their way and ended the call with a rough sounding 'night.' Gods, I hope she didn't notice anything. I really hoped she didn't notice anything. My cheeks were warm, and I knew I was blushing as I looked away from the mirror. 

"Wicked man," I said with a laugh, reaching back to tangle my fingers in his hair. "Your appetite is insatiable…."

"I've finally obtained a woman that can keep up with me for more than a single night," Wesker growled into my ear, grinding his length against my ass and forcing a strangled noise from me. "And I intend to take full advantage of that. Why? Are you feeling any ill effects from our couplings?" 

"You-!" I broke off and laughed, shaking my head, and met his gaze in the reflection. I knew he was being serious, for all that he was still sensually assaulting my form. Ever the scientist, even when in the throes of passion. "If it wasn't for the damned virus, I'm all but positive I'd be raw and unable to do a damned thing by now. Including walk !"

"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," Wesker said with a low laugh, sounding like he was quoting something. Before I could ask, he grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back so he could tease his nails roughly along the line of my exposed throat. I shuddered beneath the touch. "More than one lover has failed to keep up with me before and after the virus altered my form. But you… Again, it's taking to you so well. I'm impressed."

"Happy to hear that," I said, voice strained by the angle but sarcastic nonetheless. "You've another successful experiment under your belt. Hooray ."

"Enough with the sarcasm, my Lorraine," he growled into my ear, abruptly forcing me forward while keeping my head tilted back. His eyes never once left my reflected gaze. "Your training starts tomorrow."

"I… what… train-ing!" I let out a strained gasp when he suddenly plunged into me from behind. My body jolted, nails scratching over and then abruptly into the wooden dresser. Deep furrows had been carved into the surface. " Dammit !"

"And that is why I bring up training, my Lorraine," Wesker said with a dark laugh, sounding smug as hell. "You are getting stronger every day, though it will likely plateau within a few weeks. You received the final catalyst only three days ago now, and you have already become so much more than what you were. And at a more stable rate than my own change after a death blow. Mmm..."

" Wesker ," I growled low in my throat, struggling against the hold he had on my hair for a moment. He gave the strands a harsh yank. I stilled, nails digging deeper grooves into the wood beneath my hands. His thrusts turned outright painful - punishing - for a moment before he slowed again. "I'm not… just a… a… fuck !"

"Oh, I know you aren't," he said, amusement ringing loud and clear in his tone. I snarled. Asshole! He knew damned well that wasn't what I meant to say! "One of the reasons I kept you around, in the beginning, was because you showed a modicum of intelligence. When you proved ignorant in a subject, you applied yourself. You learned. Efforts made purely out of self-preservation, of course, but you acclimated to the situations around you readily enough."

He leaned over me, pushing inside all the way to the hilt and going still with the head of his length in a hard and constant pressure against the deepest parts of my body. And then he bloody well stayed like that, keeping me pinned in place and unable to move, stuck between the pleasure of being filled and also being too full at the same time. Soft lips brushed against my ear, his tongue flicking out over the shell. His mouth moved down, and his teeth scratched almost painfully against my neck. Throughout it all, his eyes never left my reflected gaze. 

A small whine escaped me. I started writhing against the dresser, more and more desperate for Wesker to bloody well move . To have some friction. I needed ... but I wasn't about to beg. I refused to beg. He reached up, teasing his fingers along my neck until they came to a rest over my thundering pulse. 

"Such a fragile thing you were," he rumbled against my ear, his voice a throaty growl. Wesker's hand shifted around so that he was gripping the front of my neck. His fingers dug into my skin just hard enough to make it a struggle for me to breathe. "I could still break you right now if I wanted to. You wouldn’t be able to stop me. Perhaps the virus would make it so you wouldn’t even want to? I wonder..."

I shuddered violently beneath him. Partly in fear. Partly out of excitement. 

Perhaps it was merely because I hadn't been with anyone, male or female, since arriving here. Not until that little ‘walk’ on the beach. Or maybe it was because I was a switch, easily able to shift between the role of Dom or Sub with my chosen male partner because I was usually able to sense when a change in roles is needed. 

It was also possible that it was the virus, passing on some hidden clue. 

No matter the source, I just knew what Wesker wanted, what he needed , to see and hear from me…

And it wasn't my ready submission.

"You could," I responded. My words were strained from the grip but firm nonetheless. I reached up with one hand and slowly grabbed his own around my neck to pull it away. He resisted, but not as much as he could have. We both knew that he was letting me pull his hand away. He was testing me. "But I think you want to find out if I can break you once I'm stronger."

Wesker's dragon-like pupils narrowed and then widened. Bullseye. 

His lips pulled back into a snarling, victorious grin. Wrenching his hand from my grasp, his other hand moved from my hair to hold the back of my neck firmly. In that brief moment, his hold on my form was loose enough for me to act. Small window that it was, I seized it and shoved backward away from the dresser. I was trying to throw him off. Trying to knock him away. 

It worked... 

And it didn't... 

Sure, Wesker stumbled back with the force of the shove, but he grabbed hold of my hips and rolled us with the momentum of my shove. The world spun as he twisted our bodies about so he could pin me down on the carpeted flooring. 

A strained howl escaped my throat. The movement had briefly pulled Wesker from the depths of my body... and abruptly drove him back in as we hit the ground. My hands scrambled against the plush carpet under me as I tried to push up and away. Fingers tangled in the hair at the very nape of my neck. I yelped in pain as he shoved me back down, pinning me in place with my cheek against the carpet. 

Thank goodness I’d actually decided to splurge and spend the extra money to have the plushest carpets possible. That would have chafed something fierce otherwise. 

"I wonder, did you even notice, my Lorraine?" Wesker asked from above me in a tone that was almost genial. He started to move. Slow, sure strokes that sent little frissons of pleasure up my spine.

“N-notice… what?!” I gasped, squirming beneath him. 

He was angling his thrusts to tease. To taunt. Not to chase after the pleasure. No. He was intent on keeping me right at the edge of release and no closer. 

“You left your glasses on the floor in my office after our little tête-à-tête,” he responded with a dark chuckle. 

Wesker leaned back, releasing my hair. He reached down and deftly grabbed hold of my wrists, wrenching my arms behind my back. The movement jerked my upper body into the air, and I howled at the abrupt change in angle. Thank gods my house was nowhere close to the neighbors. Someone might have called the cops otherwise. 

“I don’t believe you need them anymore, do you?” he asked in a conversational tone. 

"I..." I broke off with a whine. 

I hadn’t noticed that, actually. I remembered taking my glasses off at some point while going down on Wesker, sure. And... yeah, he was right. I forgot them under the desk. Still… That wasn’t important right now. It really wasn't. I squirmed in his grasp, struggling to get my arms loose. I felt… I felt… I looked at him over my shoulder and sneered at him. 

“Do you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?” I asked, voice a low and hungry growl.  

Wesker went still at my words. A low growl filled the air a moment later. Dangerous. Enticing . A shiver ran up my spine. My body clenched around the hard shaft buried within me, forcing groans from both of us as his length twitched inside me. He drew back, pulling me up with him so that I was all but sitting in his lap. He kept my arms pinned behind my back with one hand, grabbing hold of the front of my neck with the other. 

Teeth sank sharply into my ear, hard enough that I felt blood drip down to my shoulder. I hissed at the pain, turning as much as his hold allowed for to try to glare at him over my shoulder. 

"You are growing bolder by the minute, aren't you?" he growled, letting go of my ear and rocking up into me. I shuddered violently, clenching around him. "I've seen a fire in your eyes so often. A helpless kind of anger. But save for that one occasion before I began to have doses of the Progenitor virus administered into your system, you've always been so careful to avoid showing that rage to anyone. Well, discounting the events on the beach."

I squirmed, trying to free my wrists and his grip tightened harsh enough to make me whine softly at the pain. He chuckled softly, tongue flicking out over my ear to lap away the blood. 

"Even afterward," he continued with a purr, "you showed so much self-control with regards to your temper. It will be interesting to see how this changes things..."

The hand on my neck tightened briefly before he let go and wrapped his arm around my throat in a loose but firm chokehold. The hand holding my wrists fell away and looped around my waist faster than I could react. I squirmed, able to free my hands and arms, only to go still as both of his arms tightened around me light bands of living steel. A choked noise escaped me as Wesker stood, staying buried within me. He turned us back around toward the dresser so that I could see our reflections once more. 

I glared at his reflection. He let out a bark of laughter.

"Look at your eyes," he purred in my ear, carrying me over to the dresser and forcing me against it so that my knees were pressed against the edge. 

Wesker leaned forward, forcing my chin up with his arm and inching my face closer to the mirror. I let out a choked snarl, hands shooting out reflexively to brace against the mirror. The mirror shook with the impact but thankfully didn't break. Still, I looked... and froze, swallowing roughly. The outer rim of my irises had a dark red ring bleeding into the natural brown. 

A shudder ran through me. Wesker groaned against my neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he started to rock in and out of my body with shallow, forceful thrusts. The shudder was less out of fear or disgust and more of a general sense of unease. 

I could hide that I'd gotten stronger. Faster. But I wouldn't be able to hide my eyes. Not if they changed entirely. Sure, I liked Wesker's eyes. Always had. But they were an obvious as fuck sign that he'd been altered. Changed. I might be able to pass off the current change to my eyes. It wasn't terribly noticeable unless you looked super close. 

Another shudder ran through my body, and the feel of him twitching inside me drew me quite firmly back to the now . I closed my eyes, letting my head fall down as much as it could with his arm in the way. A quiet groan spilled from my lips. He took in a deep breath and let out a chuckle. 

“Afraid?” Wesker rumbled against my skin, teeth scraping a sharp-edged line over the exposed line of my throat. “You shouldn’t be. You are becoming far more than what you were.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to be grateful, you bastard,” I snarled breathlessly. 

A strained cry escaped me when he pushed deeper inside me. Harder . The hand at my waist fell away. Lowered instead to cup my mound. One finger deftly began to rub circles over my clit, forcing a little whimper past my lips. 

“And why shouldn’t you be grateful?” he asked, his voice pitched in a velvety, devious purr. His thrusts turned shallow. Intense and near-painful, but still so damned good . He paused for a moment and forced my head back up with his arm. “Look at me, my Lorraine. I am forty-seven, and yet I look like I am in my early thirties .”

He wasn't wrong to say that. The cocktail of tailored viruses running through his system were keeping him looking youthful, acting more like a symbiotic mixture than something that should reasonably be tearing him apart from the inside. 

Wesker pulled me up and back against his chest with my knees still resting against the edge of the dresser. I grabbed hold of the arm around my throat with both hands, desperate to keep my balance. The pressure on my knees hurt, but I knew that one wrong move meant slipping off of the dresser and off of him . Knew, too, that he could drop me in an instant if he wished. A dark chuckle echoed in my ear as if he could taste my unease. His lips brushed against my skin in a teasing kiss. 

“ Thousands of women would kill to be where you are right now,” he said, still chuckling. 

"And I'm not one of them," I snapped back, wincing and trying to hold back a moan as he continued to move so forcefully within me. "I didn't ask for this. I wouldn't kill for this."

"No, you didn't. And you wouldn't, would you? You're not like those vain harlots in our field, constantly begging for my attention," he said, sounding inordinately pleased with himself all of a sudden. "Which is why I ultimately chose to give you the doses needed to prepare you for Birkin's catalyst. And why I chose to allow the virus to move at a slower pace rather than simply expediting the process by stopping your heart."

Wesker stilled abruptly, staying buried to the hilt within me. His fingers slid away from my clit and trailed up over the front of my body, briefly shifting to cup and squeeze each breast. The hand trailed back down over my stomach and over my hip. The touch was soothing. Calming. He looked my form over in the mirror with a possessive gleam that made those dragon-like eyes all but glow in the soft moonlight drifting into the room. 

Despite the brief pulse of horror at the thought of him killing me to fully activate the T-virus, I found myself slowly relaxing in his hold. Found the anger again draining from my body. The virus simply wasn't letting me stay upset with him. Instead, the relief that he chose a gentler method, that he chose to allow the virus to evolve on its own within me, was heightened instead.

He noticed the change and almost purred against my back. 

"You are mine…" Wesker said in a husky voice, his arm falling from my neck. 

His hand closed around my breast, squeezing firmly. The other hand that had been teasing at my side slid forward to settle back over my crotch, fingers teasing at my entrance where he was buried deep within me. 

"Yes," I murmured softly, eyes hooding as I leaned back against him. "And you're mine…"

"Yes," he rumbled, his chest vibrating against my back. "We'll discuss the implications of Ms. Garcia’s call in the morning. But for now…"

He pulled back from the dresser, sliding out of me. I let out a groan as he slipped free, immediately missing the heavy thickness and wanting him to slide back in. Wesker shifted me around to carry me bridal-style back to the bed. I huffed as he laid me out across the bed and then scooched backward as he climbed up onto the bed with me, crawling forward and looming over my smaller form. 

Chuckling darkly, Wesker leaned back on his knees. His hands closed around my hips, thumbs rubbing over the skin briefly before he ran his palms up along my sides. It was a slow, sensual assault on my body. I moaned softly, pushing myself up and leaning in to kiss him. He returned the kiss, being surprisingly gentle as he did so. The previous raging inferno had cooled to an almost cozy fire as his hands slid up the front of my body. 

His hands cupped my face as he deepened the kiss, tongue gently warring with my own. One hand slowly slid back to tangle in my hair, tightening for a moment and forcing a pained-pleasured whimper from me. He rose up briefly, shifting about so I could slip my legs out from under him. One hand fell to my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist, the palm cupping one cheek and helping me rise up as he settled back onto his knees. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he aligned himself and slid back into me, groaning into his mouth. 

"For now," he began, pulling back from the heated kiss with a smirk, "let us indulge, yes?"

"Insatiable…" I repeated with a laugh, rolling my hips languidly.

This time he was the one to groan, hands tightening on my ass and in my hair respectively. The widening of my mate's dragon-like pupils was alluring, and I leaned in to kiss him again, my own eyes fluttering shut as I began to ride him in earnest. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he arched into my movements. 

As we continued in earnest, I found myself feeling once more very happy that I'd chosen an isolated house where the closest neighbor was almost a mile away. 

Getting interrupted by the police with a noise complaint would have been annoying...

Chapter Text

Amara didn't know how long she napped after they finished having their fun. Her... her boyfriends... lovers...? had done much to wear her out. She smiled to herself and cracked her eyes open to look at the ceiling. Two pairs of arms were wrapped around her waist. She glanced down and saw that Leon was curled against her, his head resting on his chest. His arms were loosely wrapped around her hips. 

Chris was curled up with his arms around her chest, one leg spread out over her own. Her head was tucked in under his chin. She snuggled in between them, feeling warm and content. However, that feeling faded when she glanced over her shoulder and saw that her phone screen was flashing. It took some work and careful shifting about to reach out and grab her phone without waking the two men.  

She looked at the screen and recognized Piers' number. It took more effort, and a few false starts to slip free from the arms of the two men. They curled around each other with little grumbles of sound before going still once more. Amara slipped into the bathroom, closing the door while dialing Piers' phone. 

"What's happened, Piers?" she asked when the younger man answered the phone. 

"Hey, hate to wake you up, but we found some news behind the motive of Eve's attack on the precinct," he responded before letting out a heavy sigh. "You guys need to get down here."

"Alright," she said with a frown. "Let me wake the guys. Should be there in twenty to thirty minutes, sound good?"

"That works," he said in a faux-chipper tone before ending the call. 

She stepped out of the room and walked over to the guys, tapping Chris twice on the arm. He jolted awake in an instant, looking around the room for danger. He relaxed when she held up her hand in an 'all clear' gesture and eased back against the bed with a blink. Leon, eyes bleary and tired, poked his head out from under the covers. 

"Something happen?" he asked in a sleep roughened voice. 

"Piers called," she said, moving over to her suitcase to grab a change of clothes. "They found something. A reason behind Eve's attack on the NYPD precinct."

"That's good," Chris said, rolling out of bed with a yawn. "Out of bed, lazy bum."

He said the last part to Leon, kicking the side of the bed lightly with his foot. Leon darted back under the covers with a playful sounding hiss. Like a disgruntled cat. Amara let out a giggle as she finished getting dressed. She quickly donned her body armor and checked over her gear. Chris did the same. Leon still remained hidden under the covers.

Letting out a small laugh, Amara moved over to the bed and tugged the covers off. The sandy-blonde-haired man tugged them right back over his head. 

"Get up so I can get my kiss," she said, nudging forcefully at the ball he was making on the bed. "You need to get dressed."

"But I'm tired~!" he whined in a playful voice, poking his head back out and pouting up at her. 

"Well, if you want to be like that," she began with a faux-sweet smile. "I guess once this is all over, Chris and I can have some fun together while leaving you bound to the bed, hm? Since you're so very tired."

"..." he wiggled under the covers and slowly slipped out of bed, still pouting. "Evil Yuki-onna is evil."

"Only when you are up to no good," Amara replied. 

She let out a playful giggle, shaking her head and leaning over to give him a loving peck to the lips. He returned the kiss eagerly, hands moving up to cup her face. Leon pulled back with an equally playful wink before standing to get dressed. Satisfied that he wasn't going to try to dart back into bed, tempting as it was to join him, Amara walked over to Chris and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He turned into the kiss, catching her mouth with his in a gentle but heated kiss before pulling back with a grin. 

"Almost ready," he said in a dry tone. "Did Piers give any details, or is this a 'bad news when we get there' sort of thing?"

"He didn't say anything specific," she said with a shake of her head. "So either something he wasn't willing to share over an unsecured line or bad news to be heard in person."

"Fair enough," Chris said with a sigh. 

Amara's phone went off again. She pulled it from her pocket, checking the screen. There was a message from Dominic. 

We got an ammo upgrade! Courtesy of Tsu.

"Huh," Amara began, brow raising as she looked over at the two males. "Looks like we have new ammo? I wonder what we're going to be looking at."

"New ammo? Darn, I was hoping for more toys from your friend," Leon said, wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively after slipping on his equipment over his shirt. 

"Probably best that it’s just the regular toys that go 'boom,'" Amara said with a nervous giggle. "Any other type of ‘toy’ and Dominic would have an aneurism."

"I'll bet," Chris barked with a laugh, slipping into his body armor. "He sees you as a little sister. And I can tell you from personal experience, you never want to find your siblings porn or toys."

Chris gave an exaggerated shudder. Leon let out a laugh. 

"I wouldn't know," Amara said with a weak smile. "My… sister… and I aren't close."

"You have a sister?" Leon asked, starting to move for the door and pausing to look back with a surprised blink. 

"Yes… I am adopted, though. We aren't all that close," Amara responded with a weak smile. She walked over to the door, and Leon wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

"Ah," Leon said eloquently. Chris trailed behind them, closing up the hotel room and making sure the door was locked. "Let's head out then. Hopefully, we can get some answers."

Amara leaned into Leon's gentle hold, wrapping an arm around his waist. She let go of him as they approached the elevator and stepped away. Chris moved to stand on the other side of her, and she glanced between them with a small frown. 

"By the way…" Amara began hesitantly. "Do you care if people know about us?"

"We don't mind," Leon said with a shrug.

"If you want to share the news, it's cool," Chris responded with a grin. 

Feeling buoyed by that statement, Amara knocked her shoulders lightly against each of them. They smiled and jostled her back. Warmth filled her. The ride down to the lobby was peaceful. The calm before the storm, she knew, but sometimes those moments of peace were worth savoring. 

"Now to think of nicknames for you both," she said as they reached the Jeep.

"Be merciful," Chris said in a dry tone, slipping into the driver's seat and starting the vehicle. Leon hopped into the back as Amara slipped into the front passenger seat. 

"Whatever you say, grouchy wolf," she said playfully.

"Woof," Chris said in a deadpanned tone.

Amara let out a soft snort of laughter as a thought hit her. Chris would look so cute dressed up with wolf ears and a tail... 

"Looks like someone has a Halloween costume idea," Leon said with a smirk, leaning over the back of the seat as Chris drove toward the precinct.

"Oh? And what would you be for Halloween, oh helpful Fox?" Amara asked with amusement.

"Fox, eh?" Leon let out a chuckle. "I think I like that."

They fell into a companionable silence as they drove. With the streets empty, it took little time to reach the police station. Chris pulled up into the lot, parked the Jeep, and hopped out of the vehicle. 

"Let's see what happened now," Chris said with a sigh. 

Amara offered Leon a small smile before stepping out of the Jeep herself. The trio walked into the precinct and found Dominic waiting for them at the front desk. Amara perked up and walked over, giving the taller male a big hug. He laughed and hugged her back. 

"Hey, little sis," he said, ruffling her hair as he stepped back. "Staying out of trouble?"

"Sure," Amara said with a laugh and a shake of her head. "You said something about new ammo?"

"Yup. This way," Dominic said with a grin that was borderline feral. 

He moved past the desk and up to the lab. Maeda, Officer Brea, Officer Dollis, Piers, Tanya, and Tsukiko were all waiting for them. Tanya met Amara's eyes and winked at her friend, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Took y'all long enough. Hope you didn't make any pit stops on the way here," Tanya said playfully. 

"No pit stops," Leon said with a cheerful grin and a wink that made Amara blush. "We did get a decent bit of rest, though."

"Are the rest of you recovered enough to continue?" Chris said, moving forward. His sheer presence in the room changed from advisor to a commander in charge of his forces. When the others nodded, he braced his hands on the table. "What weapons do we have, and what is the sit-rep so far?

“I'll let my Onii-San explain what he believes may be the reason behind the attack,” Tsukiko began, nodding to her brother, who waved his hand nervously. She turned to indicate the cases on the table. "After Amara helped save us, I went into weapons manufacturing as well as finishing my degree in computer engineering. After seeing Amara take out that one BOW with ice, I had an idea of how to help."

Tsukiko opened one case and took out one of the oddly colored bullets inside. 

“This is what I call a 'Tsurara Bullet,'” she began with an eager smile. “It has a specialized compound in it, of my own personal design. Upon impact, the bullet can instantly freeze the immediate area around a wound to minus one-hundred and ninety-six degrees. Rather like liquid nitrogen, but infinitely more stable.”

"How interesting. New ammo for the boys to play with is always good," Amara replied with amusement at Tsukiko's energetic nature. 

“It’s for you too!” Tsukiko said with a small huff. “You don’t want to overwork yourself!”

"Not everything I face is going to be able to be frozen,” Amara replied, shaking her head at her friend’s antics. 

Honestly, Amara preferred the idea of not using the 'ice' powers for a while. Not only was she not used to it yet, but the ability left her feeling cold inside. She wasn't sure if it was her depression that triggered the ability or if the cold triggered her depression, but she was wary of using it too often. Leon moved over to her side and nudged his elbow lightly against her shoulder. He smiled at her, and she grinned back. Chris clapped his hands together.

"Make sure the new ammo is properly labeled and handed out," Chris said in a firm voice. He turned to Maeda and raised a brow. "What information do you have for us?”

"Y-yes," Maeda said in a shaky voice. "I believe the attack here on the precinct was a distraction-"

"A distraction?" Officer Brea interrupted, stepping closer to Amara. 

"To distract us from what ?" Officer Dollis spoke with more than a hint of agitation in his voice. "We lost good people!"

"I-I-I," Maeda shrank back a little bit and rubbed at the back of his head before continuing in a rush. "Is there a sperm bank or a hospital that conducts artificial insemination nearby?"

“Excuse me?” Leon asked with a slow blink.

“Is there a what?” Chris said in a deadpanned tone.

Tsukiko facepalmed and looked about ready to light in on her brother. He held his hands up and stuttered weakly as she bopped him on the head. The rest of the people in the room looked like they equally wanted to burst into laughter or join Tsukiko in throttling her brother. Amara snorted and shook her head at their antics. 

"Ah! Gomen! I should have started with my reason for being here!” he said hurriedly. “I am here because the incident that is now unfolding has happened before. In Japan, there was a similar incident several years ago."

Maeda glanced around at everyone to ensure he had their attention before continuing awkwardly. 

"Although it wasn't as grandiose in a scale of an attack like this one," Maeda took a breath before continuing. "It all started when a scientist's wife was involved in a car accident. The scientist tried to culture her liver cells to keep her alive. The scientist named those cells… ‘Eve’… The liver cells multiplied, and her Mitochondria and eventually took over her physical body. After acquiring the scientist's sperm. The Eve then tried to make an ultimate being-"

“And back to sperm…” Dominic muttered from next to Amara. 

“Hush,” Chris said firmly. “Let him finish. We’ve heard weirder shit than this….”

“I’m not so sure about that….” Leon said with an amused huff.

"Men…" she muttered softly, causing Officer Brea to snicker next to her. Amara raised her voice. “What do you mean by 'Ultimate Being'?"

"’'She,' I mean, the being who mutated from the liver cells, couldn't maintain her body for long and... Oh! Before the car accident, the scientist's wife had registered to have her organs donated,” Maeda said, rubbing his hands together nervously. “So after the accident, her kidneys were transplanted to a young girl… And Eve implanted the fertilized egg in the young girl who then gave birth to… well, an 'Ultimate Being.' But it was destroyed. I was extremely interested in his research when I found an old, mostly destroyed document and went to his lab to continue research. That's why I’m here…."

"I followed my Onii-San here because he likes to get into trouble," Tsukiko muttered under her breath, looking at her brother. Maeda let out a weak laugh.

"That was why I asked about a sperm bank,” he said earnestly. “I don't believe Eve's body, Melissa's body, will be able to last for much longer. Right now, her Mitochondria are acting like parasites in the host body, destroying it slowly…."

“You mentioned a scientist, but not by name,” Leon said, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “Were you able to confirm who was responsible for this incident? What year did this happen? And why did Japan not inform the UN?”

"I-I... don't know?" Maeda asked, wringing his hands and looking at his sister. 

“Onii-San was busy diving nose-first into the research,” Tsukiko chimed in as she twirled one of her bullets between her fingers. “I managed to find out that the researcher was Dr. Toshiaki Nagashima. His only goal was to revive his wife. I believe that was his only crime, so in essence, there was no one responsible other than ‘Eve' for what happened afterward." 

“And the lack of contact?” Chris asked, crossing his arms. 

“The event happened in the year Two-thousand," Tsukiko said with a shrug. "At the time, I believe the BSAA was in its infancy stages. As for why our country didn’t tell the UN is anyone's guess. It may have been because it was a small, isolated incident. One was taken care of rather quickly by Dr. Nagashima and his assistant. Our government wasn’t involved at all until after the fact.” 

“Either way, 'Eve' is now here in New York," Tanya said with a growl. "If we assume that she's trying to achieve what her ‘sister’ couldn’t do, then we know her goal."

As the group started to work out how to proceed, Amara glanced over at the female officer next to her. Brea looked exhausted, tired, and pale. Much how she had looked when she'd first started to use her powers. Too much energy used in too short a period. 

“Are you okay, Officer Brea?” she muttered softly to the other woman. 

“Please call me Aya… I just,” tired blue eyes turned toward Amara. Officer Brea shook her head a moment later. “I just want this to be over. I don’t understand what makes us so special to her...”

"It never gets any easier, I'm afraid," Amara responded with a sad smile, placing a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "But you aren’t alone in wanting this to be over."

Officer Brea, no Aya , returned her smile. Her expression turned thoughtful a moment later as she looked at the hastily laid-out map on the table. 

“I believe the St. Francis Hospital has a doctor that specializes in artificial insemination,” Aya said in a low voice, looking back at Amara. “I don’t know of any other hospitals in the area that specialize in that. Nor of any sperm banks beyond theirs. I only know about it in the first place because a friend of mine has been having trouble having a kid."

"Got it. That's good information, Aya," she said in a gentle tone before taking a step forward and clearing her throat. The others all turned to look at her. "Officer Brea shared some information with me that makes me think that Eve’s next target might well be St. Francis Hospital. They have a sperm bank there."

"That's fairly close to here too," Dollis said with a nod of his head. "Probably our best bet to check it out first."

"Beyond that," Amara began with a frown, looking at Chris. "Captain, you may want to see about getting Dr. Chambers here. The creature we faced in the upstairs part of the precinct was partially rotted , unlike most of the others BOWs we've encountered so far."

“I noticed that myself,” Chris said with a nod of agreement. “We already isolated the body and have it waiting for examination. Dr. Chambers may be better able to help our team isolate the strain or strains that the creature carries.”

“I can only think of one that would promote that kind of deterioration in the body so quickly, and that would be the T-Virus,” Amara said with a sigh. Chris and Leon shared a look and nodded their agreement before turning back to her. 

“If that’s the case," Chris began with a wince, "We’ll need to figure out something that counteracts whatever cocktail she’s come up with. With Maeda and Chambers working together, we may be able to figure out what the virus might do to Eve.”

“Good call. The G-virus caused mutations more than decay. Las Plagas also would have been obvious if Eve had gotten a hold of that,” Leon said, rolling his shoulder and shuddering at a memory. He turned to Chris. “Shall we forward what we discover to TriCell?”

“...yes,” Chris said, his tone begrudging. “We don’t have time to waste on other problems right now.”

Chris’ expression turned dark, and Amara knew he was thinking about Wesker’s current status as a ‘controlled contact’ for the BSAA and the UN. But he was right. Eve was the more immediate threat right now. Wesker would either prove trustworthy, or he wouldn't. She had her doubts, true, but she'd wait and see. Hopefully, Lorraine's trust wouldn't prove to be misplaced, blind hope. Amara glanced at Aya as Tsukiko passed out several of the magazines filled with her special ammo to everyone. She looked over to Chris after taking a few for herself. 

“Sir, Aya and I can head to the hospital immediately,” she said, squaring her shoulders. 

“Take Leon with you,” he said after a moment. “I need to make sure the officers here know what we’re dealing with and how to deal with it.”

"Yes, sir," she responded with a small smile. Piers walked over. 

“Here, more of those inhibitors arrived,” Piers said with a shudder as he handed Amara and Aya two small cases. She opened one and saw five syringes filled with the inhibitor. “Everyone’s going to have several doses on them, so that should help if we run into more trouble. Ms. Kvale left a note saying that TriCell is working on improving the formula as fast as they can.”

"That's good," Amara said with a small sigh of relief. At least they could still count on the woman to keep busy. She tucked away the case and turned to look at Leon. "Ready?"

“Always,” Leon said with a smirk, tucking away his own case of inhibitors. 

Amara smiled at him and gave Chris' arm a squeeze as they left the room. The three of them quickly made their way back to the Jeep. Amara got in on the driver's seat and Aya on the passenger side while Leon slid into the back. Aya gave Amara directions to the hospital and the lack of traffic made the trip a short one. Upon arriving at the hospital, they got out and looked around. Amara shifted her rifle into her hands, looking at the emptied hospital with a frown. She never liked hospitals. They always made her feel… feel… she winced, her hand going to her head. 

"Hurry! We need to hurry! She is going to flatline!" a woman’s voice, yelling.

She looked up like the lights on the ceiling flew past. They were taking her away. Away from - away from…

"Amara? Are you alright?" Aya asked, worry ringing clear in her voice.

"Amara?" Leon said, his hand pressing lightly to her shoulder. She shook her head and blinked at him. 

"Yeah. I'm fine,” she said, giving them a smile that she hoped didn’t look as strained as she suddenly felt. “Shall we head inside?"

“Alright,” Leon said, nodding his head. He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and then took point as they entered the main lobby. “Let me know if you sense anything, either of you.”

Amara nodded and shared a look with Aya. Grim-faced, the trio made their way into the empty building. Looking around warily, she couldn't help but feel that something was off. It wasn't just the fact that the building was empty, either. Erie, yes, but that... She shook her head and glanced over at Aya. The other woman also looked a little shaky but willing to continue on. 

"We'll need to head to the elevators just up ahead. I know where to go from there," Aya said. Leon waved her ahead, and the other woman took point with Amara and Leon guarding her back.

“Anything nearby?” Leon asked them as they reached the elevator doors. “Check if the elevator works, Aya. If not, we’ll find the stairs.”

"Nothing that I can sense-" Amara started to say but stopped when she saw a semi-familiar little girl in the double doors just past the elevators. 

She slowly approached the doors... and the girl was gone in a blink. Amara's hand rose to her chest, and she frowned. Why? Why was she seeing her ...? It had been so long now. When she glanced back at the other two, Leon was looking back and forth between herself and Aya. Aya, who had gone pale and was staring at the glass doors with wide eyes like she had seen the girl as well. 

“You two alright?” Leon asked with a frown. “You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

"We're fine," Amara said loud enough for Aya to hear. The other woman jolted and then shakily nodded her head. "Let's hurry, yeah?"

Amara headed toward the elevator and pressed up button. A cheerful ping echoed through the room, and the doors slid open, allowing them to enter. As the elevator slowly rose to the top, Leon let out an annoyed sigh. Both women turned to look at him, and he waved a hand at the speaker. 

“Why do they always pick such horrible elevator music?” he joked with an exaggerated grimace. 

Amara and Aya both giggled at that. 

"Lord only knows, Leon,” Amara said with a grin. “I'm just glad we don't have to listen to Jingle Bells on repeat."

"Fai-" Leon started, only to let out a curse as the elevator jerked to a stop. 

The music cut out, and a woman’s voice practically purred over the speaker.

"Going down?" the woman asked. 

Amara started violently. That was Eve!

There was an ominous sound from above them. The sound of the elevator wires being cut by something big. Leon cursed and moved to the panel, hitting the emergency open button. The doors started to open, but not fast enough. 

“Move dammit!” he swore, moving over to try and force the doors open as the elevator shook a second time. 

Amara yanked Leon away from the doors just as the last cable gave way, saving him from losing a finger as the elevator plummeted a few feet. At first, they stopped thanks to the emergency brakes, but then something landed on top of the elevator and started to jump. The brakes gave out, sending them back toward the ground floor. 

Thankfully, they hadn’t gone up that far, and with the help of the E-brakes, they didn't hit the bottom floor as hard as they might have otherwise. 

“Fuck… Never use the elevator when dealing with BOWs… I know better than that, dammit,” Leon said with a groan, pushing himself to his feet. “Thought I learned that lesson years ago… ow.”

Pushing herself to her feet with a groan, Amara found herself agreeing with Leon. Stairs from now on. Shit, that had hurt. Aya got to her feet next to them and jabbed a finger at the buttons before letting out a grumble. She started yanking at the partially opened doors. Amara moved to help Leon, who was leaning against the door and rubbing at his side. 

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly. His hand was pressed against where he'd been stabbed earlier. 

“I’m good,” Leon said with a small chuckle. “Mostly just my pride is bruised. I should have had us go for the stairs, sorry ‘bout that.”

"It's fine," she said, kissing his cheek. "I was just worried about where you got hit earlier."

"Oh. That's fine," Leon said, straightening up. "The fall just bruised a rib."

"If you're sure," she said, and he nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. 

There was a grinding sound of metal on metal as Aya got the doors open a little further. The other two moved over to help her wrench them open enough for the three of them to climb out. Free of the container, they eased out and into the basement and looked around warily. No sign of the creature that had sent them falling. Good and bad news that. Leon let out another sigh and ran his hand through his hair. He looked over at Aya. 

“Know where the stairs are from here?” he asked with a tired laugh. 

“The stairs should be nearby,” Aya said, pointing off to their left. "At least, I think there are."

As they started toward the direction she'd pointed in, Eve's voice rang out over the speakers a second time. 

"Night. Night. Don't let the bedbugs bite~," she said in a sing-song voice that raised the hairs on the back of Amara’s neck.

The lights went out with a click, and Leon cursed. He grabbed his flashlight and flicked the light off and on real quick to get them oriented. He ensured they were still heading toward where they hoped the stairs were. Every so often, Leon would flick the light on and back off, sweeping the area to make sure it was clear but ensuring that their position wasn’t revealed for too long. They reached the stairs without encountering any BOWs, but the three of them were still very much on edge. 

Unfortunately, Eve seemed to be one step ahead of them.

"Hope you enjoy your stay!!" the woman said over the speaker system. 

Amara looked up just in time to see a glowing green beam heading down toward them. She grabbed onto and shoved the other two out of the way just as the debris hit and destroyed the stairs they were about to climb, barely getting out of the way in time herself. Amara pushed herself back to her feet with a groan, her ears ringing. Leon let out a grumble, and there was another click as he turned on his flashlight. This time, he left it on.

“You two okay?” he asked, grunting as he stood. 

“I’m okay,” Aya said, her voice shaking. “T-thanks for that, Ms. Garcia.”

Amara shot the woman a strained grin and went to take a step when a flare of pain shot up her leg. She looked down and winced at the sight of several bits of concrete and metal embedded in her left leg. Amara would probably be able to heal the injuries now that she'd eaten and had some rest, but removing the pieces? She’d need some help. 

"Just call me Amara, Aya,” she said in a pained voice. “Leon… I need you to come here… please…?"

“Sure,” he stood up and moved over to her side. 

He was favoring his right leg as he moved over. There were no outright signs of shrapnel in his leg, but he was likely still bruised all to hell. He hissed as he passed the light over her leg and knelt down next to her. 

“You’re wanting me to remove the pieces?” he asked with a frown. "You can heal it, right?"

“Yeah,” Amara responded. “I should be able to heal the injuries once the debris is out...”

“Alright,” he said with a nod. He shook his head, looking frustrated. “We only have so much of the first aid spray. So, let’s go one piece at a time. See if you can deal with the larger ones and save the spray for the smaller injuries if we can.”

Amara nodded, and Leon returned the gesture before kneeling next to her. Aya moved to cover them, her flashlight on, and pointed down the dark hall. Leon started on the largest chunks of concrete. Amara focused on that previous sensation when she'd healed Leon. She was trying to actively repair her injuries rather than wait for them to heal like they usually did. Thankfully, it worked, and the wounds closed faster than normal. Leon let out a small noise of awe and shook his head. 

“This is seriously impressive,” he said, flashing her a gentle smile. “We’ll have you back on your feet, and Eve beat in no time.”

"And we'll have you up too,” she said in a scolding tone. "Don't think I didn't notice you limping."

“This?” he shifted his leg and grinned that boyish grin of his as he pulled free another bit of concrete. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

"Oh, yes. You're fine, and I'm just peachy perfect," Amara sassed, wincing as another piece was removed.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Aya asked as she came over with a worried look decorating her face.

“No, we’ve got this for the moment. Just keep watch. I’d rather not get jumped,” Leon said, shooting her a grateful smile. He turned back to Amara and wagged a finger at her, a mock-stern look on his face. “And don’t you sass me, woman. I’m just going to end up with some lovely bruises. You’re the one with shrapnel in your skin.”

"Pft. Don't you wag your finger at me! You will let me heal you even if I have to pin you down to do it," Amara continued as she healed the second to last wound.

“Maybe wait for me to find a way out?” the other woman joked with a laugh. “I’d rather not watch you two getting kinky.” 

"Yeah, let's not go that route,” she said with a grin and a laugh. “Might make Leon here more eager to finish this mission up."

“Oh, I’m already eager to finish the mission just because this Eve is being annoying,” he said in a snarky tone. “But if I get a reward for good behavior after we’re done here? Hell yeah.”

Amara laughed as she finished healing her leg. Leon gave the remaining, smaller injuries a quick spray with the first aid to help the wounds close up. She slowly got to her feet, testing the strength of her leg, before turning and narrowing her eyes at Leon. She smiled sweetly at him. 

“I’m fine!” he repeated, standing and taking a few steps back and then to the side. There was barely a limp… but she could still see it. Even Aya could see it given the ‘Really?’ expression she gave the male. “See?!”

Amara's grin sharpened, and Aya began to giggle as she made her way back into the hall to check for anything, really. She was giving them some space. This allowed Amara the time to slink toward Leon before pouncing on him. Leon yelped, catching her in his arms. He would have been able to support the sudden weight had his leg not been injured. As it was, she was able to force him down so he was on his back so that she could heal him. He let out a sigh and stared at the ceiling. 

“Evil Yuki-onna,” he murmured. 

"Of course, Evil Yuki-Onna," Amara said sarcastically, letting out a sigh as she began to focus on how she healed him last time. "The evil one wants to make sure you are okay and healed for her peace of mind."

Unlike last time, her fingers didn't sink deep into his skin. Perhaps it was merely because the wound was so minor in comparison. Perhaps it was because she didn't want to let her fingers slip into him. Regardless, the tightness in Leon's expression cleared a minute later, and he let out a relieved sigh. He then tugged her close and murmured into her ear.

"Not evil because you wanted to heal me, Yuki-onna. But because I now need to deal with this," he grabbed her hips and briefly pressed his groin against her own, letting her feel his excitement… before promptly sitting up and standing while still holding her. He set her on her feet and gave her that cheeky, smart-ass grin of his. "Shall we figure out how to get the lights back on?"

"If you keep doing that, I might be sorely tempted to drag you into a nearby room and give you something worse to deal with…" she whispered slyly, leaning up to place a small kiss on his lips. 

Chuckling, she pulled away and moved after Aya, checking her weapon as she walked to make sure it had survived. Relief filled her when she found it undamaged. Yes, she had her abilities, but she wasn't sure how much energy she had left after healing herself and Leon both. She felt okay, though. Leon caught up to her, growling into her ear. 

"See? Evil," he murmured, making Amara snicker. 

“Found this while you two were tending to each other's wounds,” she said, holding up a fuse. “I think we can replace the fuses in the fusebox and be able to take the secondary elevator up.”

“More elevators?” Leon asked with a whine.

“No other stairs,” Aya said in a dry tone. "I checked."

“Fine, fine,” Leon said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “At least it's not a chess-based fuse box system….”

“I... A what?” Aya blinked at him in confusion.

Thanks to Chris, Amara knew the story behind that comment. 

"Long story short, the people sometimes we face love to do puzzle-based traps,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Leon here was one of the few that had to figure it out."

"Ah. I see,” Aya said with a slow nod and a frown. "Well, regardless, we do need to find the fuses to fix the other elevator."

Amara nodded her head and glanced at Leon. He raised a brow at her, and she turned her focus outward, searching for anything in the area around them. There was definitely something nearby. Four, maybe five? Damn. 

"We'll need to be careful. I think Eve left some… entertainment… ahead for us,” she said with a frown, opening her eyes.

“Yeah, I can sense them too,” Aya said with a huff. “From what I can tell, they’re just past the room I found the fuse in.”

"Goodie,” she muttered under her breath. “Rather be giving a blowjob than doing this..."

Both Aya and Leon let out little choked noises and stared at her with varying expressions. Leon looked like he agreed with her. Aya looked outright mortified. Amara just shot them a bland look before walking through the room Aya had checked. She came to a stop in front of the other door, reaching out again with her senses. She winced. There were several of them. Definitely five, not just four. But they were spaced out in a way that left two of them almost overlapping. Fighting in such narrow corridors was never easy. Amara checked her magazine to ensure it was full and glanced at Leon.

“How many are ahead of us?” Leon asked.

“One directly to the left of the door. The rest are further out,” Amara responded. “If we’re quick, we can kill this one and duck back in here if we get the attention of the others.”

“Guerilla tactics, got it,” Leon said with a nod and a dark grin. “Saved my life more than once by doing that….”

Leon and Aya moved into position, and Amara shoved the door open, stepping into the room and to the side to act as bait for the others as the other two opened fire on the gelatin-like creature to the left of the doorway. The creature died with a gurgle, drawing the attention of one of the others. 

Amara ducked back into the room, kicking the door lightly to prop it back open enough for one of the other gloop monsters to make its way through the door. The three of them backed up to give themselves some space, opening fire as they moved. The Eve monster didn’t even stand a chance against the three of them working together and died within moments. The goop that made up its mass deteriorated and spread out in a disgusting puddle across the floor. They repeated the process three more times, clearing the path ahead. 

“Gross,” Aya said with a grimace.

"Yeah. I don't even want to know how Eve brought this thing to life… Shall we investigate the next room?" Amara asked, looking at Aya and Leon with a raised brow. 

“Yeah, let's see what we can find,” Leon let out a huff and glanced at Aya. “Do we know how many fuses we need?”

“Yeah, three,” Aya said in response, pointing her flashlight at the open panel on the far wall where three fuses were plugged in. All three were obviously burnt out. One of them even sparked weakly at them as if in protest. 

"A needle in a fucking haystack…." Amara said with a sigh, thinking out loud. Leon let out a grumble of agreement. 

The next ten to twenty minutes were spent carefully luring additional ‘slimes’ into various rooms so they could take them out one by one. Once Amara and Aya felt that the area was fully ‘clear’ of the Eve-creatures, they looked for the remaining fuses. More than once, they heard Leon curse as he hunted through various rooms, cursing the hospital staff for being dumb. Or as he’d put it at one point;

“Why can’t the fucking staff keep all the god-damned fuses in the same fucking area," he growled as he dug through a box, "so people aren’t running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to find them!?”

Amara and Aya snickered at the man. He’d found the second fuse hidden in someone’s snack drawer of all things along with a note that said to ‘put this away later.’ They both understood his upset, though. It was frustrating. 

"Come on. We only have one more fuse left to find, and then we can get out of this area," Amara said with a shake of her head. "Lord knows what we'll run into next."

Thankfully, they found the third fuse without too much more trouble. And to add to their successes, the elevator they took wasn’t rigged to fall like the other one had been. They were able to fight their way through a large number of BOWs and make their way to the area marked for sperm storage... only to find the place trashed. Knowing that the only ways out would have been through them or the roof, they headed up. A helipad was up there, and it was a safe bet that they’d either find Eve topside or gone. 

Hopefully, they’d arrive before the woman fled...

Chapter Text

When Wesker told me I was to undergo training to control my strength, I had expected more hand-to-hand combat lessons. Or something to help round out my meager combat abilities. Maybe more drills with various weapons, likely starting all over again with the boring part of taking a gun apart, cleaning it, and then putting it back together. And then doing it faster and faster until my current trainer was satisfied with my time and skill.

Maybe even something as simple as doing basic work-outs where the goal was not to destroy the weight machines.

But, nope. It was none of that. I would have enjoyed that. At least a little bit.

-Snap!-

"Fucking hell!" I cursed under my breath as yet another delicate handle of a china cup broke between my fingers, spilling cold tea onto the layers of napkins I'd spread protectively across my lap after I'd broken the first cup handle. 

"Language," Wesker scolded from his own seat at the head of the table. Despite the sternness of his tone, he was amused. 

I glared at him as he oh so delicately took a drink of his own tea from a far finer set of china than what I was being allowed to use. He'd bought several cheap sets just to help test my control. Wesker had yet to touch the thin glass of wine next to his plate setting, instead focusing on savoring his own tea while watching my progress. 

It was, admittedly, a nice floral and spice blend native to this world that had a tongue-twister of a name. But I hadn't been able to enjoy much of it so far. 

I appreciated that Wesker had arranged for me to have the day off. He'd taken us to his place for the day, which was more like a small mansion that was tucked into a mountain range near our base to share dinner. 

At first, I'd been vaguely pleased when food had been brought out for us. It had seemed... oddly nice. 

The dining area we were using was a private one meant for the 'lord and lady' to dine alone, so the table wasn’t one of those long ones. A more intimate one, really. Despite his loathing of Spencer, a taste for the finer things remained ingrained in Wesker's nature. At least this mansion wasn't trapped all to Hel and back. Some traps, of course, but not to the insane, puzzle-maddening degree as the now-dead Lord had a habit of building. I'd thought at first he was trying to be romantic, which neither of us was really prolific with, but... 

"Fuck you," I growled, setting aside the dozenth broken cup and pulling out another one from the nearby box on the table. I gingerly picked up the teapot, I'd only broken three of those , and poured a fresh cup. "I despise this sort of stuff. Always have."

"And yet, despite your mishaps, you at least know what you're doing," Wesker said, his tone bordering on mocking while also sounding more than pleased by what he was seeing. “One might consider themselves pleasantly surprised.”

"I blame my mother," I grumbled, carefully lifting the cup to my lips and finally managing to take a solid drink. The tea was cooled but still flavorful. "She wanted me to have 'proper manners befitting a lady.'"

"And yet you curse like a sailor or a mercenary when out of the public eye," Wesker said with a chuckle, taking another sip of his own tea, saucer delicately balanced in his other hand. 

"They were both Air Force," I said with a soft snort and a small shrug, carefully lowering the damned cup down and setting it onto its saucer without a sound. I could manage that much, at least. "So, etiquette lessons from mom, swearing lessons from dad. With a strict 'don't tell your mother' policy, of course."

"Ah, what a charming young thing you must have been then," he mused with a smirk and a low chuckle. "And that does explain your immediate default to 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' during in your early days here."

"I rather think I’d have annoyed the Hel out of a younger you. And can you blame me for defaulting to that kind of speech pattern?" I asked with a laugh, reaching out to pick up the salad fork. "You're a scary man, Wesker."

The lettuce had wilted a bit, but dammit, I was hungry and had been struggling with the tea for almost half an hour now. Wesker had instructed me to do this step by bloody step and, if I failed, to restart each step. At least I didn't have to start over from the very beginning. Progress was being made, if slowly. 

"That I am," Wesker shifted forward, setting his cup and saucer down. 

He shifted, picking up his own cutlery and cutting into his steak, eating all prim and proper. Asshole was already on his main course, and here I was, just starting on the salad. My fingers twitched with my annoyance… 

And the fork bent clean in half. 

"Mother-fucker!" I hissed out softly, setting the ruined fork aside.

"Lorraine," Wesker said, his tone suddenly clipped and sharp. His shaded gaze rose to meet mine briefly, his expression stern.

"Apologies," I said with a wince, knowing that he was getting frustrated with my increasingly poor manners. 

Hel, I was getting frustrated. I usually had better control over my head-to-mouth filter. I let out a sigh, trying to let the anger bubbling in my gut go. I was usually better at controlling my temper, but I also hated breaking things not meant to be broken. Odd how badly the virus was affecting my usual level-headed temperament when it came to small things like this. 

If I was angry at Wesker, the anger would fade within ten minutes or less. If I was angry at anything else, my usually long fuse was shorting out. 

Wesker kept making notes on a pad laying next to him on the table, keeping track of my outbursts. I hated it but also understood why he was doing it. After taking several calming breaths, I gingerly picked up the replacement salad fork and slowly began to eat. This time I managed it without incident. Once done, I picked up the plate and set it aside to grab my own steak. 

Even cold, the steak smelled absolutely divine to my slowly heightening senses. Wagyu steak, cooked medium-rare and perfectly seasoned. Just the way I liked it. But then, Wesker wouldn't have anything but the best staff cooking the best food in his home. It was a rare treat for me to have something quite this expensive, even when considering the rather nice meals I got dragged to during various meetings. 

Half the time, I still got by on a quick ramen meal, so this was even more of a rare treat to indulge in. That, sadly, would have to change. My dietary needs were changing already, even as the virus changed me. More meat, well, more food in general, would be needed as it altered my DNA further still. 

Sighing softly, fully expecting things to go south, I gingerly eased the fork into the meat. Sadly, in my haste to cut a nice, appropriately dainty because I remembered my damned manners, slice of meat off for myself, I pressed down too hard on the plate with the knife and cracked the plate. I very, very fucking carefully set the knife and fork aside and leaned back in my chair. I steepled my fingers in front of my nose and just struggled to breathe past the sudden burst of rage pulsing through my body. There was a soft clink from near Wesker, and I glanced at him. 

"Your temper is fraying so easily," he said, looking decidedly amused. "I was right about how interesting it would be to see from the other side of things... Another similar symptom of the T-virus taking hold. It took weeks for me to keep myself from getting irritated at the smallest of inconveniences."

"How wonderful," I said through gritted teeth as I struggled to reign in my temper. "Just what I wanted to hear. Blast it. Part of my job is to keep an even temper when dealing with idiots…"

"Finally admitting that most people are fools?" he asked with a low, almost evil laugh. "How very amusing."

Wesker picked up his wine glass and sat back in his seat to watch me. I twitched at his teasing and took another slow breath to calm myself before leaning forward and picking up a replacement plate. A careful bit of shuffling about later, and I had the steak on the new plate to try again. It was slow going, but thankfully I finished my food without breaking a second plate in the process.

"Ms. Garcia’s call was quite fascinating, don't you think?" Wesker purred when I was finally done with the cut of meat. And I was still hungry. Damn. Well, it hadn't been a large cut, so it made sense. "If the abilities she's shown can be duplicated, we would be able to advance many projects in leaps and bounds."

" If ," I stressed in a level tone, looking at him with a frown. "As I mentioned to Amara, the abilities may very well lessen in strength once Eve is dealt with. They only started developing at all in the first place while she was in the presence of the subject. Not only that, but you haven't worked out how to fully separate the 'control marker' that you were able to pinpoint in the influenced subjects' DNA."

"Valid points," Wesker said with a thoughtful hum and a faint smirk. "But they are still avenues to pursue nonetheless. I'll admit, I am both pleased and annoyed with the recent developments we've seen. I do believe I heard Ms. Garcia also mention that one of the beasts was rotting , correct?"

"Yes," I said, setting my cutlery aside and daintily wiping my mouth clean with a fresh napkin. "I already sent out a message to our contact to collect a sample and ensure the rest of the remains are destroyed swiftly. I worry that Eve has gotten a hold of a sample of the T-virus. It would not bode well for the battles ahead for our people on the field."

"No, it would not," Wesker agreed, his tone and expression darkening. "I'll need to strengthen the inhibitors. They worked well enough to keep our men alive, but there is always room for improvement. Perhaps an alteration to see if it can be used to neutralize the BOWs on scene outright… We cannot afford an out-of-control factor at this junction. Not with my current plans already so far along."

"The inhibitor did help with the mixed-strain subject during the test we ran," I said, gingerly reaching for the wine glass this time instead of the remains of my tea. Thankfully, I didn't break the damn stem as I picked it up and took a hesitant sip. Progress! "But it still took time for you to take it out."

"Time we may not have been able to afford. No. Improvements will be made and swiftly," the hand resting on the arm of his chair clenched into a tight fist, and, even with the shades on, I could see his eyes glow briefly. 

I frowned a bit and looked him over. Why was he so angry at the memory of the fight with the Eve-T subject? We'd beaten the damned thing, or really, he'd beaten it. Sure, it took a while, but he'd still come out on top. Was it because the mixture had been too volatile or something else? I stood up, set my wine glass down, and moved over to his side. He followed my movements with his eyes, head remaining still. His jaw was clenched tight. I leaned forward to rest one hand on his shoulder. 

"Why are you upset?" I asked in a gentle tone. 

"I am not," he responded stiffly. 

"Now, who's lying?" I joked with a gentle smile, leaning forward to brace my hands on the arms of his chair. 

His thumb and forefinger abruptly closed around my chin. I startled. Not because he had moved so quickly, I was used to that for the most part, but because I'd almost seen the movement in its entirety. Still a blur of motion, yes, but before, I wouldn't have seen him moving at all. Wesker tilted my head to one side and then back the other way. I did nothing to fight him. Instead, I raised my hand and settled it lightly on his wrist.

"Wesker…" I started, only to fall silent as his grip tightened. Not painful, but a warning nonetheless.

"Hush," he ordered in a voice low. "Leave it alone, my Lorraine."

"If you're sure," I murmured softly. 

"I am," he responded.

"I'm allowed to feel concerned, you know," I said, moving to lean back. Wesker released my chin, allowing his hand to fall back onto the arm of his chair. He twirled the wine glass in his other hand. 

"You've nothing to be concerned about, my Lorraine," he said, tilting his head. He looked back toward my seat and then nodded his head toward the place setting. "Again."

"Are you fu-" I started, straightening up angrily.

"Language, Lorraine," he said firmly, his gaze snapping back to my own and causing my jaw to snap shut. "I will not warn you again. I am expected to attend a gala in two weeks, and you will be ready for it as my companion. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," I responded, a low growl rumbling in my chest as I made my way back to my seat across from him.

I slowly set things back to rights, putting the dirty and broken dishes aside for the maid to clean up later, and then began to pour a fresh cup of tea for myself. The butler appeared a few minutes later, bringing in some fresh food. My stomach rumbled, and I set myself back to the task of trying to get through a meal without breaking anything this time around. 

Wesker, the asshole, had other plans. 

“And do try not to kill Excella while we are there,” Wesker said in a dry tone, sipping at his wine. 

The teapot shattered in my hands, and I let out an enraged, snarling roar. Wesker burst into dark laughter, and I glared daggers at him. 

Smug, fucking handsome bastard piece of shit , I thought angrily, struggling against the urge to throw the plate in front of me at his head. 

That would not end well... 

Chapter Text

Amara found herself lost in thought as the trio road up the next elevator. The information they'd stumbled upon in the patient records room had given them a little more to work on as to the possible reason Amara and Aya were being targeted by Eve. 

Aya had been a patient at the hospital as a child, along with her mother and twin sister. Aya's mother had used the hospital as their family's primary care provider. What rather was surprising was that Amara's information was also stored there. However, the file was mainly about the heart surgery she'd received after her then-best friend Tamara had died. 

Amara had been staying with Aunt and Uncle in New York while her adoptive parents had been out of the country for business. Tamara and Amara had originally hit it off because their names were so similar and had bonded quickly over things they both enjoyed. 

The duo had been walking ahead of Tamara's parents, joking and having fun, when a drive-by shooting happened, hitting both girls. Tamara had died, and her parents had given the okay for them to transplant the girl's heart to Amara since they were compatible. Only one child needed to die, they'd said. Tamara would want Amara to live, they'd said. 

The little girl she'd been hearing... was it...?

Leon's hand brushed against her shoulder, pulling her from the rough memories and making her jump. 

"Hey," he said, voice soft. "You alright?"

"I'm… Alright. Just remembering…" Amara replied, glancing up at Leon with a faint smile. "I'd forgotten about the shooting. It was a long time ago."

"Alright," he responded with a nod and a kind smile. "If you need a moment, you let me know. Odds are, Eve's already gone, and we're rushing for no reason… been there, done that, you know?"

"You just want that promise I gave you earlier to happen sooner rather than later," Amara said with a knowing smile.

"While that would be amazing, I honestly just want a bath and a nap," Leon responded with a tired grin.

He had been the odd person out in the group as they made their way up and had the misfortune of being 'slimed' by some of the enemies they'd fought to reach this point.

"Bath and naps sound good, I agree," Amara smiled at him sympathetically. "Promises can be kept later."

"We're almost there," Aya cut in with a bemused look.

At times, the pair's flirting had gotten outrageous. Leon's gentle urging had prompted Amara to think of more and more ridiculous 'counter-attacks' in terms of flirting. But Amara could tell that Aya appreciated the distraction as they went along. 

Humor was sometimes the only thing to keep someone going in the world of BOW combat. Amara smiled at Leon in gratitude, but her smile fell as the elevator bell dinged, signaling that they had arrived at the top level of the hospital. Exiting the elevator, the three of them began to look around. They immediately heard something crawling around to their left. Snapping around with guns raised, the three of them were greeted with a horrid sight.

A large spider was waiting for them on top of the helipad. However, it wasn't like the ‘smaller’ ones they had faced before. This one was about three times the size of those things. Where the spider's face would have been was replaced by a woman's torso. Her face was decayed, the mouth ripped open in a way that made it look like a twisted Cheshire smile with two long black fangs poking out the sides of her split mouth. She had no hair, and her eyes were completely white with no signs the pupils had ever existed. Before anyone could comment, the beast let out a horrid screech and leaped off the helipad, rushing toward them.

"Shit," Amara said, quickly grabbing Aya and jumping out of the way.

They rolled to the side, Leon cursing and rolling the other way. He switched out his ammo for the special bullets Tsukiko had given them. Leon opened fire on the creature, catching one of its legs. Ice spread over the limb, causing it to shriek in rage and pain, but it still kept charging for them. 

Amara darted further to the side, putting space between her and Aya to give the creature more targets to have to deal with as she opened fire on it. The spider was quick, though, and dodged to the side and skittering forward. One leg lashed out to hit Amara in the side, sending her skidding across the pavement of the roof. The spider-woman let out another screech as it turned, trying to use its webs to try and pin Aya down as the other woman opened fire. 

Every time the creature got close to hitting the other woman, Leon was free to take a few potshots himself. One out of three-hit, but they were definitely doing damage as ice started to creep up the creature's body.

Aya had to another dodge a net of webbing launched her way as the spider woman contorted abruptly. The other woman let out a shout of disgust, trying to shoot at the spinneret on the abdomen. She missed, but in dodging the woman's shot, the spider thing opened itself up to Amara and Leon. Both of them took aim at the creature's hindquarters and fired. The bullets worked, freezing over the spinneret and stopping the damn thing from launching any more webs at them.

The beast raged , limbs flailing every which way to force them back. It scuttled back and forth, making horrendous shrieking sounds as its hind legs tried to break away the ice covering its rear. While it was distracted, Leon took aim and shot at the humanoid chest. It tried to jerk out of the way, but the bullet still struck its left humanoid arm, causing it to freeze over and break off. 

A piercing scream ripped through the air, damned near bursting their eardrums and driving them all to their knees. As they collapsed, the creature charged Amara and backhanded her in the chest with one of its spidery legs. She went flying, hitting the ground hard near the stairwell entrance.

Amara managed to get to her feet, her breathing ragged. She could tell she had at least one broken rib tried to focus on healing it. The spider creature didn't give her a chance to focus and lashed out a second time, sending her flying back a second time. Her head smacked against the pavement, forcing a pained groan from her. Amara still forced herself to her feet despite the ringing in her ears and the dizziness. 

She took a few shots, knowing they'd likely miss, and backed up, trying to put space between her and the creature while the other two worked to distract the BOW. She backed up into another female form. 

“Let’s see what this does, hm?” a voice purred in her ear as something stabbed her in the neck. “I’m oh so curious…”

Amara's eyes widened, and she shakily reached up, feeling the stinging sensation spread through her body. A kind of jolt rocked through her body from head to toe. She fell to her knees even as she watched the spider beast, several limbs frozen over, fall over the side of the roof. As she fell onto her side against the pavement, Aya and Leon rushed toward her, yelling and pointing at something behind her. They were shouting, and yet all she could hear was the blood pumping through her veins...

... 

...

...

...

...

When Amara next opened her eyes, her vision was blurred. Like someone had taken her contacts out. Her entire body was aching as if it was on fire. She whimpered, trying to move. Trying to get away. Danger... there had been a BOW and...

"Don't move, love. Dr. Chambers needs to check you over," the familiar voice of Veronica echoed from her right, and she turned toward the sound. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a crocking noise and a cough. 

“Easy there, Ms. Garcia,” came the gentle voice of who she assumed was this Dr. Chambers. “You’ve had a bit of a rough time. Could you look over here for me?”

A hand lightly fell on her right shoulder, and she turned her head toward the new voice. She met the gaze of a kindly young lady with short brown hair and brown eyes. The woman walked her through a few steps to check her eyes, pulse, and reflexes before jotting a few quick notes down on the clipboard next to her. Dr. Chambers sat down next to her and took a deep, calming breath. She smiled at Amara, and Amara found herself confused as to why she looked excited. 

“I’m sorry to say that you’ve been unconscious for most of the day now,” she said in a voice that showed no hint of the excitement glinting in her eyes. “Officer Brea and Agent Kennedy are both alright and were uninjured. As for yourself, you were briefly infected with the T-virus….”

"The T-Virus…? How...?" Amara croaked out, confused. The memory of the fight hit her like a freight train. "She… She..."

Panic filled her as she remembered the fight. The hiss of a syringe. Amara's heart began to race. Her body lit up with a wash of fear. Dr. Chambers reached out and caught her hand firmly in her own. 

“Ms. Garcia, please!” she began in a firm voice. “I said, briefly infected. Briefly .”

"Briefly? What happened? How-ngh?!" Amara winced as she tried to sit up. It felt like she’d worked out for too long. Her muscles were stiff as hell. 

"Hang on, Amara,” Veronica said with a gentle smile as she stood. “Let me go get my kit, and I can give you something to help with any pain or muscle soreness. Plus, I'm sure the boys will want to make sure you're alright. I can let them know to stop fretting." 

Amara nodded her gratitude as the other woman left. Dr. Chambers leaned back with a soft sigh and pulled up her clipboard. She tapped her pen against the wood for a moment before meeting Amara’s gaze.

“Your body fought off the virus. And I mean entirely fought off the virus,” she said earnestly. “We’ve never seen anything like it before. Yes, some rare few are immune to it or receive benefits from it, like a symbiosis, but no one has ever outright fought it off after being infected. Not only that, but before your body completely fought off the virus, it… well, it did alter you. To a degree.”

The other woman reached out and lightly tapped one finger against Amara’s arm, making her wince. Taking the move as a suggestion, though, she rolled up her sleeve and looked at her arm. She blinked and then flexed her arm with another wince. It took her a moment to realize what the doctor meant. 

She... There was a good deal more muscle on her than she'd had before falling unconscious. It wasn’t that she was bulked up, like if she suddenly had used steroids or something, but it was definitely a noticeable change. 

"That's strange… Any other effects?" Amara asked, with a hint of curiosity in her voice. "I don't feel any different other than feeling like one giant bruise."

“Likely the effects of the virus in your system before you fought it off,” Dr. Chambers said with a smile. “You also healed some fairly extensive injuries at a far faster rate than what TriCell has on record. To be honest, Ms. Garcia… you should be dead.”

"What other injuries did I have?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Well,” Dr. Chambers flipped through a few pages on the folder. “After you were knocked unconscious on the roof, a jet flew into the building, forcing the others to flee while carrying you. Large chunks of debris hit near the three of you and, while Officer Brea and Agent Kennedy were lucky enough to avoid major injury, you were thrown by the impact and caught amongst additional debris. Seven broken ribs and a crushed lung, skull fractures in two places along with bleeding in the brain, both the left leg and arm were broken in multiple places.”

"The virus…” Amara winced at the list of injuries. "The T-virus healed me?"

“Actually, we believe that it was less the T-virus’ doing and more the Eve-strain that is already a part of your system,” Dr. Chambers said in a dry tone. “Initial tests show that your cells may have effectively consumed the T-virus, not merely fought it off. We’ve sent samples off to the lab to clarify, but… One of the reasons I am here is because, well. Ms. Garcia, to put it in layman's terms, you may be a walking cure for not just the T-virus strain but possibly other strains as well. We were hoping to take a few more samples to see if TriCell can help us look into cures for the many strains out there right now.”

Amara sat there, staring at Dr. Chambers in utter disbelief. It seemed too good to be true. Veronica re-entered the room with Chris and Leon on her heels. Both men rushed over with concerned expressions on their faces. Leon looked a bit rough, bandages wrapped around his left forearm and one on his forehead, but otherwise, he looked okay, which was a relief.

"Amara? Are you alright?" Chris asked.

"We were worried," Leon said softly, and there was a hint of guilt in his voice. "I'm so sorry…"

"Chris, I'll be fine," Amara said with a tired smile. She turned to Leon. "And I am just a bit sore. Leon, this isn't your fault."

"Let me give you something for your soreness as Dr. Chambers takes a bit of your blood. Then we will leave you three alone to get some rest," Veronica said as she dug into her kit and pulled out a small syringe. 

"Actually, let me ask about the samples first, Veronica. That way, we don't have complications," Dr. Chambers said with a smile. She turned to look back at Amara. "How many vials of blood I draw, if any, will depend on your consent…."

"Will two vials of blood be sufficient for right now…?" Amara asked, closing her eyes with a grimace. "I don't think I can handle having needles near me for long at the moment."

"Given the report, not surprising," Dr. Chambers said with a laugh as she moved to ready Amara's arm. "Two should be enough for now. I would prefer five, but we can always come back for more samples later if we need to."

"I don't like this…" Chris muttered under his breath, his gaze dark. 

"Chris, it's her choice, not yours," Dr. Chambers said in a firm voice as the needle was pushed into Amara's vein. She popped one vial into the line, and it started to fill rapidly. "This may well save hundreds of lives."

"I get that, but do you know who TriCell has on 'retainer' right now?" Chris growled softly.

"I'm aware… I'm not entirely happy about it, but the higher-ups in the UN and the BSAA have made their decision on the matter," Dr. Chambers said with a frown. "All we can do is watch for signs of betrayal."

"Chris… Please… If my blood will help. Then please …" Amara pleaded quietly. She understood there was a risk, but honestly... the potential rewards might well outweigh that risk. 

"I'm…" Chris sighed and moved over to take her hand in his. "I'm not telling you not to do this. She's right, it's your choice. I'm just worried about him ."

Amara squeezed his hand back as she clenched her eyes. Her body began to shake slightly as she recalled something. 

"I spoke to Lorraine about my healing abilities…" she said in a meek tone, afraid of how he would react. 

"You...?" Chris' grip tightened, not painfully at least. More that he was startled. "Shit…"

"She'd get the reports anyway," Leon said in a soothing tone, moving over to place a hand on both of their shoulders. Dr. Chambers finished the blood draw, and Veronica took her place to attach an IV line with the pain meds. "Nothing would have changed with just one phone call."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, but…." Chris shook his head. "Why did you call her, though?"

"Chris," Leon cut in before Amara could answer. "Lorraine has been our TriCell contact for years. She's been a friend to both of us for years…."

"So was Wesker!" Chris shouted abruptly before looking down and away from them both. 

He looked angry but ashamed at having raised his voice, but the damage was done. Amara let out a small whimper, eyes clenched tight and a hand going to her head. 

*Stupid woman! Can't fucking do anything right! Worthless bitch!*

Her head jerked to the side, body reacting violently to the memory. Darkness settled over her mind. She curled up into a ball, arms over her head, and began to cry softly. Waiting for the blows that normally followed when Richard was angry at her.

"-rry… I'm sorry… Amara, please, talk to me, Firebrand, please?" Chris' voice cut through the shadows of her mind. Strained and worried and panicked.

"...he's not angry at you. I promise Yuki-onna, you're safe. Come back to us, please? You're safe," Leon voice. Worried but gentle.

There was a hand on each of her shoulders, each soothingly rubbing circles over her back. Both men were gingerly sitting on the sides of the bed, looking ready to either pull away in an instant if she told them to move or equally prepared to pull her into a group hug. Amara blinked several times and reached for each of their hands. She cried softly as she pulled their hands close to her heart.

"Please… Please don't leave me… I'll be better…. I promise…" she sobbed as the world seemed to twist and the shadows started to eat at her vision again. 

"Shhh… shhh Firebrand," Chris murmured, both men moving further up to engulf her in a hug. "We aren't going anywhere. Promise. We're right here. I am so sorry for yelling."

"It's okay," Leon said, kissing the crown of her head. "We're right here, Yuki-onna."

Chris leaned over her, butting his head lightly against Leon's and causing the other man to let out a soft, partially affronted 'ow!'. Chris made a shushing noise and began to speak, almost too softly for Amara to hear. 

Almost.

"You bury that asshole in evidence," Chris whispered. "Even if things don't work out, he goes down."

"Already working on it," Leon responded just as softly. "Contacts are finding plenty now that they know where to look."

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry I'm so broken," Amara whimpered softly as she buried her face into the pillows. 

She silently whispered apologies to Tamara for not being strong enough, wishing she had died instead of her friend. 

"Stop that," Leon said firmly, giving her a gentle shake. "You are not broken. You are whole and strong and beautiful and amazing."

"You've done so much," Chris murmured, kissing the side of her head. "You're an amazing teammate and asset to your profession. You keep me from making a damn fool of myself with my reports. You are not broken, bruized, and battered, sure, but not broken. Richardson is the 'broken' one, and he'll be far more than just that when we are done with him."

“...” Amara didn't respond right away. Instead, she gently pulled them closer to her. "Stay with me?"

Veronica and Dr. Chamber had quietly gathered their stuff and left the room at some point during her breakdown. Had allowed the three of them to have their alone time. The men squirmed their way onto the bed to lay next to her, and… well, to call it 'cramped' would have been putting it mildly. 

"We're right here, Yuki-onna," Leon said.

"Not going anywhere unless you tell us to, Firebrand," Chris said, hand squeezing hers. "I'm sorry I shouted like that…."

"No… You have every right to be upset," Amara said softly, shaking her head and wiping away her tears as the shadows in her mind slowly started to fade. "I'm sorry. It's just I didn't know who to turn to… you and Leon weren't there, and I just…" 

"You panicked over how you healed me, didn't you?" Leon asked softly. "Chris saw part of what happened. I get it. Not exactly something you see every day, right?"

"I did. I was scared and... what if I don't stay Human ? That and... What if I hurt one of you?” Amara asked shakily. She shook her head and took a deep breath before letting out a tired laugh. “Chris… you’ve been a rock for me, and hell, the team for so long, and Leon… you’ve been so sweet about all of this... Just... If anything happened to either of you..."

“Shhh,” Chris gave her a one-armed hug, shaking her a little bit. “Just remember that you’re important too, Firebrand. Don’t let the memories of that shit-stain bring you down. You’re better than he is.”

“Infinitely better,” Leon agreed, lacing his fingers with her own and drawing her hand in for a kiss. “Could Richardson handle fighting BOWs on a semi-regular basis? Keep his teammates alive like you have? Deal with idiots like you have? No, no, and no. Coward would run at the first sign of danger.”

Amara teared up again, but this time with happy tears. She chuckled wetly and snuggled into them for a moment before sitting up. Amara pressed a gentle kiss to Chris' mouth before turning and doing the same to Leon. She leaned back with a sigh and a wince.

"Do you think it's okay if I have a bath?" she asked with a groan. "My everything hurts..."

“Don’t see any harm in it,” Leon shifted to the side and pointed to the small room connected to her hospital room. “Bathroom and shower are in there. Your bag is on the couch, so you have a change of clothes, too. I need to get checked over by Veronica, and then we can head out afterward.”

“You go get clean, Amara,” Chris said, patting her shoulder and sitting up. He took his phone out and wiggled it back and forth. “I have a few phone calls to make anyway.”

Amara nodded and stood up with a wince, moving to grab her to-go bag. Ignoring the stiffness running through her limbs, she made her way over to the small bathroom. There she found her glasses and contact case on the counter, along with a fresh toothbrush and some toothpaste. Either the guys had left the items there, or Veronica had. She looked at the shower/tub combo and sighed. 

As much as she wanted a long soak, a hot shower would have to do. 

As the hot water ran down her aching body, she allowed fresh tears to fall and be washed away, letting the water cleanse her of the lingering pain. Part of her felt heavy. Weighted down despite the reassurance from the two men. The trauma of her past had reared its ugly head over the past few days and kept hitting her. 

As much as she wanted things to last, Amara was worried she'd fall apart for good... and she hated that feeling. 

Chapter Text

The only highlight of that day of practice was that we got to spend a few hours dancing together, brushing up on my ballroom skills. I hadn’t been that bad at dancing before arriving on his version of Earth, but I wasn’t the best dancer either. And I knew it. Yet… I felt like I was on wings while dancing with him. I wasn’t certain if it was because of the virus-given improvements to my dexterity or if it was because I was actually enjoying the whole thing. Just dancing with him and being in the moment.

No experiments. No fighting for my life. No co-workers to bother me with rumors. No customers or clients with inappropriate requests. It was nice, just us and the music drifting through the air in the ballroom. 

Others might have called it romantic. I knew damned well it was pragmatic. It would do neither of us any good if I couldn't manage more than one dance at a fucking Gala of all things. 

By the end of the night, I felt more wrung out than usual. Fine motor control exercises were surprisingly intense. We might have spent more time 'getting to know each other,' but Wesker had to go deal with a budding emergency back at the lab. A minor one, but still something he wanted to handle personally given that said emergency was tied to a certain idiot Doctor who was already on his shit list. 

The idiot was going to get himself killed if he wasn't careful. 

I took the time to take a nice long bath in the massive bathtub he had. The damned thing could fit half a dozen people or more. It was nice. After bathing, I went to my laptop and started to look over the latest batch of reports from New York. As an active incident, the situation required constant attention. 

The reports made me frown in open concern. 

Our contact within Chris’ team had sent news stating that ‘Eve’ was likely looking for sperm samples of all things. All to make an ‘Ultimate Being.’ They’d sent a copy of Mr. Maeda’s findings over, and while an interesting read, it was also a worrisome one. I sent off a few emails to our Japan division to see if they could find anything more about Dr. Nagashima and his work. 

It was likely that they'd find anything, given that the younger man from Japan had stumbled across the information he had by accident. Information that I’d been trying to pinpoint for years now. It was frustrating that the kid had found that information thanks to sheer dumb luck. 

I let out a small sigh and closed up my laptop, tapping my nails against the old model. Well, old to me. Advancements in technology were finally starting to catch up to what I’d known, but it was still going to be a while before the more advanced stuff came out. I frowned at a small cracking noise and looked down. Damn. I’d accidentally tapped too hard on the blasted thing. A quick check showed that it was still fully functional and just the case was damaged. 

One good thing about the older models was that they were harder to break. 

Leaning back in my chair in relief, I closed my eyes and thought about the report. Amara had been, very briefly, infected with the T-virus during the fight with Eve at the hospital. Eve had gotten a hold of a sample and had decided to test the T-virus's compatibility with the Eve strain. Just as we had. Unlike others carrying or simply affected by the Eve strain, Amara had fought off the effects of the T-virus and had been left unaffected. 

It was impressive.

Our contact had obtained a sample of her blood work and sent it over immediately for us to review. If we were lucky, when the antibodies in her blood were examined, we might well be able to make a dedicated vaccine for several viruses. All we had right now for many of the strains were inhibitors that neutralized the effects of various virtual infections. Not a ‘cure,’ but a stabilizer that kept them from mutating further. 

Wesker would likely want to control who got the vaccines if they could even be made. Amara’s blood could also be a dead-end. Something unique only to her.

I froze in my seat, fingers raised as if to push up a pair of glasses that I wasn’t wearing. What if…? Wesker was infected with Birkin’s perfected version of the T-virus. What if we could replicate a vac-… and that vaccine cou-... be used on that versi-… f the T-vir…? 

What if I cou-… us-... it to… va-... m-…? 

Wha-... i-... I… ra-…? 

Wh-... i-... I…?

My vision blurred. My ears started to ring. I found my breathing rapidly speeding up. My thoughts were derailed. Scrambled really. It was like everything around me was fading into nothing but an enclosure of static.

It was worse than any migraine I’d ever had. It was worse than breaking my arm when I was younger. Worse than nausea when moving so fast at the beach. I tried to push myself to my feet, to stand. Tried to focus on the breathing exercises I knew to calm my breathing. To calm my racing heart. 

Nothing helped. 

Something inside of me was angry. Impossibly angry. 

I fell to the ground, landing on my hands and knees. Gods… it hurt. My everything hurt. Not only that, but it was like I could feel the world spinning around me. I collapsed onto my side, clutching at my head as I curled into a ball. Noises were filling the air. Wounded animal noises. 

It took me a moment to realize that I was the one making those sounds. 

I felt a leather-covered hand brush over my cheek an indeterminable amount of time later. I jolted at the touch, and, mercifully, much of the pain faded in that instant. Enough so that my vision cleared, and the ringing in my ears faded to a dull tone. Wesker was kneeling next to me, one hand tucked inside his coat. I forced myself to go still beneath his touch, even though the tremors kept wracking through my body. I knew damn well that his hand was on his gun. That he thought the Virus was destabilizing.

“I’m okay…” I said quickly in a scream-roughened voice. “I’m okay…”

“What happened?” he asked, his voice void of all emotion. 

“The… report…” I winced, finding it exceptionally difficult to talk. I pointed shakily at the laptop. “Read the… report. T-Virus wasn’t… happy with my… thoughts after reading it…”

“Remain here,” he ordered in a stern voice, standing and moving to my laptop. 

Not like I could go anywhere. 

I remained curled up in a ball as he perused the report. Everything still hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. I uncurled my body and pushed myself up into a sitting position, taking a series of slow breaths. I rubbed at my brow, feeling the migraine pounding in my skull. 

Gods above and below, but I never wanted to experience that again. Ever . What really irked me was that the source of that earlier outrage felt smug now. Satisfied. It was, perhaps, foolish to attribute emotions to a virus, but that’s what it felt like. A symbiotic virus that had gotten enraged with me. 

Wesker let out a low hum from behind me. He walked back over to me, footsteps as loud as thunderclaps to my now over-sensitive ears. One arm wrapped around me from behind as he knelt behind me. My head was firmly tucked beneath his chin. 

“What is it that you were thinking, my Lorraine?” he asked, his voice still void of emotion. I shuddered in his grasp. “Explain it in as much detail as possible.”

He was fucking pissed… Curious, yes… but pissed nonetheless. 

  “Was thinking… that Am-Ms. Garcia’s blood… could be used to make a vaccine for the various viruses out there…” I said, coughing weakly into my arm. I glanced down nervously and then relaxed. No blood. That was a good sign. “We could use it to protect our troops in infected areas…”

“Possible, given what is in the report. We will need to examine the sample thoroughly,” he said, hand slowly sliding down and tracing over my arm. “What else were you thinking, Lorraine? I am certain there is more to this little… outburst... of yours.”

“I wondered… if one could be synthesized for Birkin’s version of the T-virus using the sample of her blood,” I answered, looking down and to the side. He hummed against my back, the vibration rocking through me and prompting another shiver. 

“And the virus reacted negatively at that point?” he asked, and I felt his head tilt to the side. 

“It did. Yes. Incredibly so,” I shuddered at the memory of the pain that had filled me. I blinked rapidly, feeling tears threaten to fall. I took another calming breath, trying to force myself to think analytically. To not break down. It wouldn’t help. It really wouldn't help. “My thoughts turned to static… it was like a migraine, but worse. Infinitely worse.”

“Like the virus was punishing you for threatening it,” Wesker said in conclusion. 

“I… yes. That's what I was thinking,” I responded, swallowing roughly. A single tear fell down my cheek, and I hated myself for it. “I’ll… not be reviewing the results regarding that sample if that's alright?"

“No,” he said, shifting to his feet and pulling me with him. I stumbled, leaning back against him as I still couldn’t quite hold myself up. He turned me around to face him, hands around my arms to keep me standing. Once I was steady, one hand rose to wipe away the traces of my tears. “You’ll read the report, and we will record the resulting reaction if any is to be had.”

“ Wesker …” I started, feeling my heartbeat start to pick up at the mere thought of triggering the Virus in such a way. On purpose, no less. 

“Hush,” Wesker said, his dragon-like pupils narrowed as he looked over his shades at me. “We will analyze the full effects of the Virus, Lorraine. You will not shy away from this.”

“Wesker, the response was violent ,” I said in a strained voice, hands closing into fists. I could feel myself shaking. Fear yes, but also anger. “I couldn’t see… couldn’t hear … dammit! It was like being shoved into a static-filled TV and drifting through a river of agony . I do not want to go through that again!”

“Calm yourself,” Wesker growled, hand reaching out to cup the back of my neck. He squeezed lightly. Not enough to cause pain but enough to make me start at the pressure. “It’s possible that there may be no adverse effects, as you may simply shy away from whatever thoughts originally triggered the outburst. I am curious, however…”

"About what?" I bit out through clenched teeth. His other hand rose to rest at the front of my throat, and I tensed, sucking in a breath. 

He could easily snap my neck if he wanted to, holding me like this.

"Were you specifically thinking of curing yourself ?" he asked, his voice still void of emotion. 

"I…" I found myself frowning and looked to the side. What had I been thinking of doing with such a vaccine? Beyond just making it if it was needed at some point? "I'm honestly not sure. My thoughts… It was like how you hear someone with a poor connection over the radio. Static bad enough that you only catch every other syllable. Nothing coherent."

“Try to think of curing yourself,” he ordered after a long moment of silence, tilting his head thoughtfully at me.

My pulse picked up in my throat, and my gaze snapped back to his. My vision… I wouldn’t say it blurred , but it was strange. Like I was seeing more color than I should have been able to. I felt my lips curl into a snarl and, much like what had happened before on the beach when I'd needed to make him earn it, earn me , I found myself speaking without meaning to.

“No,” I said, a low growl ringing through my voice. 

Wesker blinked at me in surprise and leaned forward. His hand moved up from the front of my neck, fingers reaching out to force the lids of one eye wide.  

“Try to think of curing yourself of the virus, Lorraine,” he ordered more firmly. 

“No,” I growled again, once more speaking before thinking. 

“How interesting,” he murmured, hand shifting to cup my cheek. His thumb passed lightly over my lower eyelid. “Your pupils are almost slitted at the moment, but the color is still mostly brown… Hm.”

“How about you try it if you’re so interested in getting more information,” I said, blinking rapidly. I frowned as the colors around me shifted back to normal. “You can’t just test me with this bullshit. You’re infected with the same strains.”

“Hm,” he tilted his head thoughtfully. “You have a point.”

He reached up and took off his glasses, carelessly tossing them onto the table next to my laptop. There was no need to break them in a fall if he had a similar reaction to my own. One hand remained on the back of my neck, and I watched as his gaze turned thoughtful. Distant. 

Barely a moment later and his head jerked the other way, his body jolting. It was almost like watching an animatronic short-out. Sickening. Worrying. At least he didn’t fall. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to support his weight even now. Regardless, I placed my hands on his waist to help steady him just in case. 

His pupils went wide, his eyes almost glazing over, and his breathing picked up moderately. It wasn't the panic attack level breathing that I had experienced, but it was definitely beyond the norm for him. My hands rose of their own accord to cup his cheeks, and he jolted a second time, eyes clearing. His pupils narrowed and focused on my face. He was silent for a long moment, taking purposefully slow breaths. 

“Well… that was unpleasant…” he said in a dry tone a good minute later. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” I said, rolling my eyes and running my thumbs over his cheeks. “Now do you see why I said ‘no?’”

“Indeed,” he frowned, and his gaze once more turned thoughtful. “You have a lesser pain tolerance than I. I find that I am no longer surprised that you collapsed, having now experienced it for myself.”

“Shit, Wesker,” I frowned, gently pulling his head down so I could rest my forehead against his own. He leaned into the touch, raising a brow at me. “I hate knowing what they did to you for you to have such a high pain tolerance...”

“What is done is done, my Lorraine,” he responded with a faint scoff. “There is no changing the past, only the future.”

“I know that,” I responded with a scoff of my own. “I simply find myself wishing that Spencer was still alive so that I could kill him myself. He had no right-”

“Money, power, and connections beyond what most have gave him that right, as you put it,” Wesker sounded, cutting me off. He let out a quiet chuckle. “I wonder, is it you that thinks of such violence, or is it the virus reacting to the thought of a threat to my person?”

“Well, fuck you too,” I said, leaning back but finding myself unable to pull my hands away. I still needed that physical contact with him. With my... my mate. “You know damned well that I’ve thought such things before now. What Spencer did to the Wesker Children was vicious and deplorable! I’ve made no secret of my opinion regarding his vaunted ‘eugenics project.’ The bastard was a monster .”

“And yet you suggested that I ignore his attempts to lure me to his mansion for a ‘conversation’ rather than end him myself,” Wesker said, letting out an amused huff.

“Because he was baiting you!” I snarled back, fingers reflexively pressing in against the line of his jaw. “Because it was a trap meant to break you with the knowledge that he’d ‘manufactured’ you and the others all so he could obtain 'godhood!' Kidnapped and tormented more like. Never mind that you found out about Project W well before he wanted you to. Never mind that I’ve helped you of my own volition through the years so you could pursue your own goals, independent of his manipulations. I wasn’t about to let that slaver near you again if I could convince you not to go. You bloody well deserve better than what that old fuck with delusions of grandeur had planned for you!”

“I wouldn’t have expected pity from you,” he said with a sneer, his body tensing.

“It’s not pity, dammit,” I snapped back, not quite pulling away but close to it. “It’s not. It’s the vaguest sense of understanding. Of empathy. Not sympathy. I would never pity you. Mainly because I never want your pity.”

“And how could you possibly understand my past beyond what you’ve read and seen with your little games?” he asked with a growl, eyes flashing brightly. 

“An old man tried to turn you into his slave, his pet assassin, yes?” I asked, voice lowering as my grip relaxed some. I'd... I'd never admitted what I was about to say to him before. 

“An oversimplification, but yes,” he said, the glow fading some even as a brow rose. Curiosity bled into his expression. 

“An old man tried to turn me into his sex slave when I was a kid,” I said with a small shrug, looking away from him for a moment. “Different, I know, but similar enough for there to be a shred of understanding..."

The sneer had vanished by the time I looked back up at him. He blinked down at me, one hand raising to rest on top of my own on his cheek. Those pupils of his narrowed and widened a few times as he looked me over before he leaned forward to brush his mouth against mine in a feather-light kiss. He let out a low chuckle, dark and cold, against my lips. 

“I see. No wonder you've shown such passion behind your concern for me. I wonder,” he murmured against my mouth, and relief filled me when he did not press for more information. “How long have you harbored ‘feelings’ for me?”

“Oh, fuck off,” I growled, not withdrawing from his touch. “I’ve lusted after you, sure. I respect you, yes. Been afraid of you, oh yes. Been afraid for you when you’ve been badly injured on missions, as well. All of those are ‘feelings,’ Wesker. I can ‘feel’ defensive and protective of a colleague and a… a not quite friend… without feeling a ‘romantic’ attachment to the person in question.”

“Oh?” he pulled back, laughing in open amusement. “You do know that one could call you a slave as well. And I, your master. Stockholm syndrome is not something you would be immune to, my dear Lorraine.”

“I know that. But I chose to help you, to work with you when we met and again as the years went by,” I said, lowering my voice and letting out a quiet sigh. “I chose not to reach out to Chris, Leon, or Jill for aid in ‘extracting’ me from your many, many facilities. I even chose to join you on the beach with the expectation that we would have sex. The only thing I didn’t choose to do was one of your experiments. You crossed a line with me doing that, but... I can’t be angry with you. I literally cannot. That alone irks me to no end but, again...”

“The virus is forcing you to calm down each time you think about it,” he said knowingly, nodding his head. “I had noticed that, of course. I’ve prodded at you more than once these past few days, and you cannot stay enraged with me. Everything else, yes. But not me.”

“Why do you keep bringing this up then?” I asked with another sigh, letting my head fall to rest against his chest. “We’ve had several conversations now along this exact same vein.”

“Because I need to know just how loyal you are to me now,” he purred, hand raising to comb gently through my hair. “You were loyal before, but only to a point. How far will that loyalty will go now that you’ve been altered with a mixture of Birkin’s T-virus and the Progenitor Virus?"

I shrugged and shook my head, nuzzling into his chest and taking in his scent. The scent of him was soothing. Calming. 

"I am trying to build a superior species, my Lorraine," he continued in a low tone. "One that is conscientious of the others around them. One that cares for the planet and not just their own sense of greed and power. One that will not torment their own progeny or mates for pleasure or guilt, rage or even, yes, for science . Everything about our ‘relationship’ as a ‘mated pair’ must be tested, analyzed, and documented. Thoroughly .”

“You…” I frowned, thinking over what he’d said. I pulled back abruptly, looking up at him with a glare. “You haven’t been careful at all when we’ve had sex. Have you been trying to get me with child?”

“No, actually. Not actively,” Wesker said, shaking his head firmly and running his thumb soothingly over my cheek. “I’ve been drawn to you, and, each time we’ve coupled, the thought of wearing protection has simply been driven from my mind by your mere presence. Your scent. I’ve already noted the abnormality in the file. If you become pregnant, then you become pregnant. It is not, however, one of my immediate objectives.”

“Hm. Fine. I’ll believe you,” I leaned into Wesker's touch and frowned thoughtfully. I met his gaze. “What about Jake? How do you feel about him? You’ve never said anything and have only watched from a distance. He's your son, so does the Virus affect you at all when it comes to him?”

“Oddly enough, I feel… perhaps the word I am looking for is ‘proud,’” he said, looking thoughtfully off to the side for a moment. “Yes, that will suffice well enough. He is sixteen and showing signs of becoming an exceptional adult. He intends to join the military in his mother’s home country, Edonia. Though he may take up mercenary work instead, as you'd mentioned was possible when you shared what happened to him."

"He still looks to be on that path then?" I asked with a wince. 

"Indeed," he said with a huff. "Not, perhaps, the choice I would have made had I been involved in his life more directly, but that is not the point. The point is that any children involved in my projects make their life choices without interference. Their choices will be analyzed, of course, but the new breed of Humanity that I forge must be able to survive on its own and reproduce on its own without being isolated to a lab.”

“He knows you're sending money to help them,” I pointed out with a tilt of my head. “Why not get involved beyond that?”

“Do not be foolish, Lorraine,” he responded with a sneer and a shake of his head. “You know better than to suggest that. If any of our competitors or the lingering members of Umbrella were to find out I had a child, they would do everything in their power to obtain him. Your knowledge of the twenty-twelve events proves that. He and his mother are safe in their anonymity. Ms. Mueller has never given him my name and has merely told him that I had not known of them and that I could send them money once I found out. He knows that I cannot be there for them due to my profession.”

“True enough,” I said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. I yawned abruptly, feeling my strength wane as I leaned into Wesker's larger frame a little more. “Apologies I… I feel a bit exhausted all of a sudden…”

“Not surprising,” he said, looking me over and shaking his head. “I called you ten minutes before arriving, and you did not respond. You were likely stuck in that state for far longer still. Your muscles will have been overworked by the tremors.”

He picked me up abruptly, and I wrapped my arms reflexively around his neck, tucking my head under his chin with another small yawn. I was asleep before he even reached his room.

Chapter Text

Amara wasn't sure how long she stayed in the shower. By the time she was done, she felt drained emotionally and physically. Despite the medication, Amara still felt like one giant bruise too, which didn't help matters. It was like she'd overworked every muscle in her body. Amara turned off the water and dried herself off. She then got dressed and paused to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Amara’s expression looked run down. She was a bit of a mess. 

Sighing, she put in her contacts and packed away her things into the small travel bag before moving to the bathroom door. She paused at the sound of Chris' voice. 

“Anything for Amara,” Chris said in a soft voice that was full of emotion. “She’s been good to us over the years and now… I want her to be safe , Lorraine. Even if it means holding my tongue while I watch over that son-of-a-bitches shoulder.”

Amara blinked at the softness in Chris' voice. She could feel the care for her within his tone. Amara wanted to keep his words close to her heart. Wanted to bask in the gentle warmth...

And yet a shadow flickered over her mind. 

*Of course, he cares. You are nothing but a cure. Blood is all they want.*

Amara inhaled slowly and tried to push away the intrusive thoughts. She would not allow that darkness to fester within her. Not when she knew that Chris cared about her for more than just her blood. Her body. Opening the bathroom door quietly, Amara stepped out and walked over to Chris.

“Yeah… well… oh, shut up,” he groused and grumbled under his breath. She could see the blush spreading up the back of his neck and smiled fondly at the sight. “Will you do it?”

Amara gently reached for his hand, squeezing it in comfort. Chris started a bit at her touch, turning to look at her. His blush deepened, and he smiled at her, squeezing back gently. He glanced away with a blink, and his expression relaxed. 

“Thanks, Lorraine,” he said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I ain’t happy about this, you know. But… I guess… you do you?”

He spluttered a bit a moment later and pulled his hand from Amara’s to facepalm.

“You know what I meant!” he said earnestly, shaking his head. He let out a sigh. “Just… call us if shit hits the fan. You’re a friend. As Leon just reminded me…”

Amara tilted her head with a frown. Was everything alright with Lor?

“No promises,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Try to stay safe…”

He hung up the phone a moment later and let out a semi-frustrated sigh. Chris abruptly pulled her into a hug and nuzzled his nose against her neck.

“I fucking hate that man…” he muttered against her skin. “But I will put up with him to keep you safe…”

She couldn't help but smile at his words. She wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug and holding him tight. 

"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, a flutter of guilt bubbling up in her mind. "It seems like no matter what I do, I cause problems..."

“Don’t say that,” he said, leaning back and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “We all have our baggage. Don’t doubt yourself because of that, kiddo.”

Amara nuzzled into his palm before playfully biting his thumb. 

"I am not a kid, Mr. Redfield,” she said with a huff. “Call me that again, and I'll have to show you how much of a 'kid' I am not."

“Promises, promises,” he purred, leaning in to give her a slow, sensual kiss that lasted for more than a minute and left her feeling breathless. He pulled back with a grin. “May try to push that button again later, but we still have work to do. Leon and the others should be back soon. Hopefully, with an idea of where to head next.”

"Be good to know where to go," Amara agreed before giving his shoulder a shove. "And you're more than welcome to try, mister, but you may wind up cuffed to a chair as punishment."

“Looking forward to it, Firebrand,” he said with a laugh, standing and lifting her to her feet. 

Leon walked inside a few minutes later, looking… mildly perturbed. Aya, Maeda and Tsukiko all filed in behind him. Everyone took up various points in the room, and all looked vaguely annoyed. Well, Maeda looked annoyed and skittish, but still. What had happened?

“Alright, so we have three places where we may be able to find out more information,” Leon began in a no-nonsense tone. "Maeda, tell them what you told me."

"Y-yes, well," Maeda pushed his glasses up his nose. "I believe the orange goo that Eve had created is within the sewers. I found remnants of it near a manhole near the beginning of Chinatown."

"There have also been sightings of strange activity coming from a local warehouse," Tsukiko chimed in cheerfully. Amara contained a snort of amusement. The girl was eager to see her ammo in action. She always did brag about field testing. "I overheard Dollis-San talking about it."

“We also found information that shows that Melissa, or Eve as she is now known, coming in and out of the museum," Aya said, looking worriedly at Amara. Amara gave her a reassuring smile, and the younger woman straightened her shoulders. "That's where Dr. Klamp has been working to continue his research. Also, we found out he used to work at the hospital before he got fired for... for selling HLA blood-type listings... “ 

"Great, the most effective way to deal with all this is to split up," Amara began with a sigh. Chris let out a sigh and nodded his agreement. "We can have one team take the warehouse while another takes the sewers. We can meet up at the museum to have a chat with Dr. Klamp once we've checked both areas over…”

"Good idea," Chris said with a frown. He nodded a moment later. "As much as I hate splitting the group, we need to cover as much ground as we can right now."

"If it's alright, I'll be on the team heading to the warehouse," Leon said in a dry tone. "With my luck, if I went to the sewers, there'd be another mutant gator…"

"You have shit luck one time," Chris grumbled good naturally, elbowing Leon's arm and prompting the sandy-blonde to let out a huff. 

"I'll head to the sewers then," she said with a mirthless chuckle. "If that orange goo is there, then I want to see why it's there."

"I'll go with her," Aya offered before the guys could speak up. "All that goop from the other sites either melted away or just disappeared. If it's being gathered up in one spot or multiple spots, there must be a reason."

"Fair enough," Chris said with a nod. "I'll go with Leon. Amara, Aya, take Dominic with you. We'll take Piers. I want us moving in at least teams of three, if not more, going forward from here. Keep your comms set to our usual frequency. Got it, everyone?"

"Got it," Amara said, pushing away from the bed and grabbing her gear. "Come on, Aya. Let's go get Dom."

As everyone else filed out of the room, Amara paused long enough to grab Leon and Chris both by the hand. 

"Please be careful, you two," she said earnestly. "She got the drop on me pretty good, and that was with my abilities."

"We were kind of occupied with that spider bitch," Leon said with a chuckle before pulling her and Chris into a hug. "But you be careful too, Yukionna."

"You're strong. You got this," Chris said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Giving the pair one more smile, she turned and headed out with Aya. As much as she just wanted to lay down and get some rest, she powered through the full-bodied ache. She was used to fighting while wounded. Most of the BSAA were used to it. It was just how things were when you signed up to fight BOWs on a monthly, sometimes weekly, basis. 

The two women rendezvoused with Dominic and then drove to Chinatown. Following the directions they'd been given by Maeda, they quickly found the Shinto gate near the sewer entrance they'd need to go into. 

"That's fucking huge… " she muttered as she got out of the Jeep and looked up at the tall structure. 

"It's beautiful," Aya said, moving to stand beside her. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Alright. We're all full up with that new ammo. And I can… I can use what amounts to an energy beam…? At least on some of the monsters. The ice bullets seem to work better on other ones. The rotted ones, that is..."

"We'll try to space out the ammo. Don't overdo it, alright?" Amara said with a nod. At Aya's bemused look, she let out a small laugh. "I know I'm not one to talk, but I just want you to be careful."

"Same goes for you, homegirl," Dominic said, walking over and nudging Amara with his elbow. "I am not going to be the one to explain to Chris and Leon why your ass is hurt again."

"Alright, alright," Amara said with a huff, drawing her gun from its holster. "Let's go. Stay close. Aya, keep your, well... 'radar?' Ready."

Both Dominic and Aya nodded and followed Amara forward. 

The streets were desolate and empty. The wind picked up, causing Amara to shiver from the chill. As they walked down the street, they kept their guns raised, prepared for anything. Amara felt the familiar presence of Eve’s pet monsters, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She raised her arm up, hand clenched into a fist, and the other two stopped.

Crouching down slowly, Amara picked up a nearby stone and flung it out in front of them. The stone skittered and clattered over the ground. Two large emaciated Siamese cats, roughly the size of large dogs , jumped out of the shadows. They hissed and growled low in their throats as they stalked toward the three humans. 

Each one had three tails that whipped around wildly. They had several rotting patches over their bodies even at this distance. The felines crouched and then abruptly began to run at the group. Amara quickly took aim and fired her between the two cats, forcing them to separate. One feline darted for Dominic while the other went for Aya. Dominic dodged the one targeting him and fired into it several times.

"What the fuck is up with damned giant cats trying to eat me!?" he shouted at the other two as he dodged a bite aimed for his leg. “Bad! No!”

"’Cause, you look like a hotdog? How the fuck should I know?!" Amara yelled back at him, trying to aim at the fast-moving creatures. "Left!"

Amara let out a frustrated shout even as Dominic darted to the left, launching a fireball from her hand to hit the cat harassing him. The feline died with a screeching howl. She spun around to help Aya, fire licking up her hands, but let the fire go out as the woman managed to hit the beast in the head with one of Tsukiko's special bullets. Aya glanced her way with a grin, looking quite proud of the shot. Amara returned the grin before turning away and looking around. 

They found a manhole cover at the end of the street and walked over hesitantly, guns at the ready. 

“Looks like it's definitely this one,” Amara said softly, pointing at the goo around the cover. She nudged a small bit of gathered debris. “There’s bits of meat and fabric amongst the stuff.”

Amara and Dominic shared a look of disgust. Dominic let out a sigh and moved over to the lid, prying it out of the hole. The squelching sound that resulted caused them to all gag. They all glanced warily down the dark hole and shared a disgusted look.

"I'll go down first," Amara said a moment later, letting out a sigh. "I don't sense anything in the immediate area, but keep back just in case I need to use my abilities."

The other two frowned, but Amara started down the ladder and into the sewer below before they could say anything. She made a face as her feet hit the ground with a wet squelch. She turned on her flashlight and searched the area. Nothing. 

“Clear!” she called up to the others, trying not to gag at the smell. 

She hated the stench of the sewers on missions that usually called for a trip in them. This was worse. Dominic and Aya joined her a few moments later, both covering their mouths and grimacing at the stench. 

“Ugh,” Dominic grumbled, reaching up to his shoulder and turning on the light attached to his body armor. “Why the fuck does shit like this like the damn sewers so much? It's always the sewers. Why not the beach? I could use some time on the beach.”

“Dominic… Only God or whatever the fuck you believe in will know the answer to that,” Amara replied, her own voice pitched in a low grumble. “I’d like a vacay myself, now that you mention it…”

They made their way through the dim tunnels, facing off against twisted, raging beast after twisted, raging beast. Eventually, they reached what looked to be one of the main areas of the city's sewage system. To the left was a large ladder leading upwards. The area to the right was blocked off. Amara moved up to the ladder while Dominic and Aya covered her back. Once she was up top, Aya started up after her, and then Dominic. Both women kept their senses peeled. Everything felt... off. There was something near, but... It was hard to pin down. 

They continued on until they found a large piece of machinery that was absolutely covered in slime. The trio paused and shared a disturbed look before moving to examine the mass. 

Bits of clothing and flyers were caught in the goop. Flyers from the park and...

“The audience from central park…” Aya said in disbelief, swallowing roughly and looking ill. “What has she done to them?”

Amara and Dominic looked at each other, unsure of what to say. The slime abruptly began to move around, sloshing about. The trio fell back, guns raised, but all it did was fall into the water below. Dominic cursed and looked back at the girls. 

“Fucking shit. This equipment is used for water treatment,” Dominic said, horror in his voice. "We need to get that thing out of that reservoir before it infects the whole damn city!"

“The control room is over there, I think!” Aya said, pointing to the side. 

They followed her lead and rushed over to the right and up a set of stairs. A door ahead led into a large room with several computers and various switches and levers. They glanced around and shared another group look. 

“So…” Dominic began with a grumble. “What the hell does what?”

The three of them started to look around. There was a rumble, and Dominic moved to guard the door as the two women started looking over the controls. Amara’s eyes fell on a lever labeled ‘Pump 2.’ Aya nudged her a moment later and pointed to a second one labeled ‘Pump 1.’ They shared a look before Aya moved over to the control panel and the instructions next to it. 

“If we activate pump two," she began eagerly, "the ooze should be separated into a drainage area they use when the water gets contaminated."

"Perfect," Amara said with a relieved huff. 

After one last glance at things, she moved to pull the Pump 2 lever, and the room began to shake. A gurgling, watery noise filled the air. After a minute, there was an annoying screech of sound that had them covering their ears, followed by an even louder crash. Dominic looked up and let out a low whistle, pointing out the window. 

The entire wall on one side of the area had been knocked in. There was ooze all along the side, making it clear that the beast had torn through the wall and made its escape. The three made their way out to the blocked tunnel, looking it over to see if there was a way through. 

No luck.

“Shit…” Dominic said, running his hand over his head. “We gotta go after that damned thing before it gets away.”

“I think… yes,” Aya pointed to another nearby tunnel. “I think that path will lead us to the subway tunnels."

“Let's go then,” Amara said with a nod, putting her handgun away and hefting her rifle back up to her shoulder. 

Aya nodded and took the lead, with Dominic and Amara hot on her heels. 

Aya’s hunch proved right, and in short order, they’d made it into one of the subway tunnels under the city. Both women skidded to a halt abruptly, and Dominic stopped as well. They shared a dark look and nodded. They could both sense more Eve-based BOWs ahead. 

Moving cautiously, they all had to duck down when screeching squeaks filled the air. Bats twice to three times the size of flying foxes, no less. But at least they weren't rotting on top of it all. Aya hit a few with some of her energy bursts while Amara launched a fireball or two, scattering the beasts. Dominic took the time to switch out his ammo to save on their special bullets while the other two covered him and promptly took out the last pair of bats in the area. 

They reached an intersection, and Aya started looking for a map. Amara felt an uncomfortable presence... from below them. She grabbed onto Aya's arm and yanked both of them backward. A giant centipede tore its way out from the ground, letting out a terrible hissing noise. 

"Why?!" Dominic shouted, scrambling back and opening fire on the massive beast. "Why is it always bugs ?!

Dodging a series of purple-ish blobs, both women opened fire as well. 

“Let’s just kill this damn thing and get the fuck out of here!” Amara shouted back as the creature twisted in on itself. 

It lashed out at them, pincers biting down on air as they managed to roll and scramble out of the way. Large as the damned thing was, it wasn't as fast as some of the other larger BOWs that they'd faced over the years. Amara ducked to the side, quickly loading up a new magazine. As she did so, the centipede caught her in the side, sending her skidding across the ground. 

A screech of pain escaped her lips, her shoulder hitting the wall hard and popping loudly. Dominic cursed, reloading himself and opening fire on the centipede to draw its attention to him. Aya ran over to Amara’s side, helping the other woman to her feet and behind a bend in the tunnels. 

"Quickly," Amara said with a gasp. "Pop it back in... I can heal it from there..."

The other woman nodded and grabbed hold of Amara's shoulder. A quick jerk and a sickening noise later, her shoulder was back in her socket. A strained noise escaped her, but she focused on her abilities, focused on her shoulder. Relief had just begun to spread over the area when Dominic let out a warning shout. Both women looked over to see electricity starting to dance along the length of the massive body. They all had to duck further back to avoid a wide spray of electrical sparks. 

“Okay! Bullshit! I call Bullshit!” Dominic yelled angrily, turning and shooting around the corner. “This thing can fucking shoot lightning now!? What the actual fuck?!”

Amara didn't say anything as she was busy gritting her teeth against the pain in her shoulder. Yeah, it was a little better, but she'd lost focus. At least her healing abilities still worked on autopilot, even if it was at a slower rate compared to when she was actively focusing. She hefted her rifle up, bracing it against her good shoulder, and opened fire on the giant insectoid. With the three of them shooting, it didn't take long for the beast to start writhing about as if it was dying...

Only for it to split into four smaller pieces as it fell to the ground. 

"Again," Dominic snarled, "bull, fucking, shit !"

Letting out an aggravated snarl of her own, Amara focused her fire on one of the smaller forms. Thankfully, the smaller 'centipedes' were easier to take down. The 'splitting apart' thing just seemed to be a survival instinct as the four creatures had mainly tried to scatter. The trio took a few moments to catch their breath after they'd felled the last one. Amara took the time to focus on her shoulder, healing it the last little bit so she could use her arm, and a wave of exhaustion hit her. 

She wanted to sit down and rest, but years of combat had her pushing through the feeling. They needed to keep going. Signaling the other two, they straightened up and continued down the path. It took a few, but they found a trail of ooze leading up to an exit that opened up near the Manhattan Bridge. 

“Great,” Dominic said with a sigh, looking around the area. “Where the fuck is the goop going?”

"I think..." Amara frowned, eyeing the trail that the ooze had left behind as she thought of where things were placed in the city. "Yeah, I think it might be heading toward the museum. Dr. Klamp is supposed to be there. Either she's targetting him because he's a threat... or worse, he's helping her."

"He was acting a little oddly when we interviewed him," Aya said with a frown. "I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now that you mention it..."

"It's possible?" Amara said with a grimace. Why did there have to be so many crazy scientists out there?

"Yeah..." Aya said with a wince. 

No rest for the wicked then. Dominic moved off to the side where a cop car had pulled over. There was a body next to it. Dominix gently closed the officer's eyes and took the car keys from the man's belt before standing up. 

"We better head out then," he said with a frown. "We’re not going to let this bitch continue her rampage.”

The two women looked over at him, and the trio shared a grimly determined look. They hopped into the cruiser and started for the museum. By the time they arrived, the sun had already begun to set, and night was encroaching on them. Amara grabbed her radio as they came to a stop.

“Captain, this is Garcia,” she said, waiting and hoping for a reply.

“Redfield,” Chris said, sounding like he was breathing heavily. 

"You alright?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice. 

“Yeah, fine... uh, do you like makizushi?” Chris asked. She could hear Leon and Piers groaning in the distance over the radio, followed by a distant ‘fuck you, Captain’ from Piers.

"I don't know. I’ve never tried it,” Amara couldn't help but laugh. Her tone fell flat a moment later as she reached out with her senses and... fuck. “Chris, that orange goo from before had gotten into the reservoir under the city. We managed to chase it out, but it escaped the area. We think it may be heading for the museum, so we headed over and... can sense Eve. She's definitely in the building."

“Got it. Hold the position and wait for us,” Chris said over the radio. “I’ve got charges we can use if we need to blow the building.”

"Alright. We'll wait for you," Amara said, clipping her radio back to her body armor. "You heard him. Time to play the waiting game until the others show up. Aya, let me know if you sense any changes..."

"Got it," Aya said with a grim smile. 

"Don’t know about you, but I am feeling worn out after that crawl in the sewers,” Dominic said, rubbing the back of his hand across his brow. "A minute to rest will be nice."

"Agreed," Amara said, flashing him a tired grin. 

Thankfully it didn't take long for the other three to catch up with them, pulling up and piling out of their own borrowed vehicle. Amara looked the group over and frowned. Chris and Leon looked okay for the most part, but Piers looked just as exhausted as Dominic did. Was that because of the changes that the T-virus had wrought on the two men like Lorraine had said? She shook her head and turned to Piers and Dominic.

"Do you two need to rest?" Amara asked worriedly. 

"Naw, homegirl. I'll be fine. Let's just get this shit done," Dominic responded with a tired grin. 

"Alright. If we're all good to continue?" Chris asked. At their nods, he rolled his shoulders. "Standard breach and clear people. We've confirmed it is likely that Dr. Klamp is within. Also, Amara, Aya, we have visual confirmation on the BOW known as Eve in the general area by one of our helicopters, as you two warned. Everyone has their inhibitors?"

"Sir!" Piers patted at his breast pocket.

"Right here, sir!" Dominic said with a grin as he patted his hit pouch.

Leon silently patted his pocket and nodded while Aya tapped at her waist. 

"Good," Chris nodded his head. "Maeda is working on seeing if he can improve the inhibitor on site, especially as we now have the issue of Eve utilizing the T-virus to boost herself and her 'pets.' TriCell is also working on the same back at the lab. Still, we have no ETA on possible aid from that front. The ice bullets work most effectively on the T-virus infected monsters, so save them for when you see a rotter if you can."

Amara nodded her head. Aya nodded next to her. Piers handed out extra clips of ammo, making sure that everyone had an equal amount of the specialized ammo. Chris looked at them and nodded.

"Keep the comms open at all times. We're to stick together as much as possible," Chris said in a firm voice. "I've got C-four if we need to breach a locked door. Dominic, Piers. If you two feel off at all, hit yourself with the inhibitor and withdraw immediately. We know what this BOW does. No need to take undue risk."

"Got it, sir," Dominic said with a cheeky grin. Piers saluted him.

Chris nodded back and took point as they warily started for the building, Amara at his side. Piers and Dominic took up the middle while Leon and Aya followed at the rear, making sure to keep their 'sensors' spread out between the group. They quickly and carefully entered the main part of the museum and began to search for signs of the Doctor or Eve. 

Amara noticed a large door to the left of the entrance and signaled Chris. He nodded and led the way over. Chris carefully opened the door to reveal a long hallway with different exhibits on each side. They saw a second door closing shut behind someone at the end of the hall. 

"Well, we know someone's here," Amara muttered to him. "Don't sense anything, so it might have been the doctor."

"Got it, move carefully, people," Chris eased forward slowly, keeping his footsteps measured and as quiet as possible as they approached the door.

Just as they reached halfway to the door, Amara and Aya both froze, causing the others to tense and pause, guns raised. There was something in the shadows... something large and moving toward Piers. Amara lunged, shoving the younger man to the side just as a raptor-like, rotting dinosaur charged forward. The beast's jaw closed around her forearm, and Chris cursed, darting forward and slamming the butt of his gun into the thing's mutated muzzle. It let out a twisted shriek, letting Amara go and falling back with a hiss. 

Leon pulled Amara back and out of reach behind one of the exhibit platforms as the others opened fire on the twisted creature. Amara put her hand to the wound, focusing on healing the energy and feeling a brief wave of nausea as the wound started to close over. Leon grabbed the first-aid spray and coated the wound, helping the healing process. 

"You alright?" he asked. 

"Starting to feel drained," she said with a wince. Rolling her shoulder. "Taken a few good hits..."

"Let's try to-" a roar interrupted him as something slammed into the exhibit they were hiding behind. 

Leon and Amara darted from behind the platform just as another partially rotted, goo-covered dinosaur jumped for them. Both opened fire, causing the creature to fall back with a shriek as it ran to join its fellow. Aya tried to dodge to the side, but one of them latched onto her upper arm. It took a bit of effort, but Dominic was able to help get the beast off of the other woman, and he chucked the creature into the wall, causing it to yelp in pain. They opened fire on the beasts until they went still, bodies melting into goo that dissipated into hissing steam. 

Amara rubbed at her arm, moving over to try to help Aya heal... but the woman's wounds were already starting to close over. Chris checked them over, applying a bit of the first-aid spray to help the process along. Ten minutes later, their injuries were fresh pink scars that would, hopefully, fade entirely. 

“How are you two feeling?” Chris asked in a concerned voice. “You’re both healing a lot faster than normal right now.”

“I’m... fine,” Aya said through gritted teeth. "Still aches like a son of a bitch..."

"Yeah... the ache lasts for a bit," Amara said with a knowing groan. 

She leaned against one of the exhibits and let out a low groan. God, she'd been hoping for a fucking vacation when she came to New York. Not another fucking outbreak. This... it was all never-ending. Pointless. It would never stop and... 

Amara shook her head harshly and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Not the time for a pity party, Amara , she thought angrily at herself. Get up. Get moving. We got a mission. 

“Let’s hope the fucking thing isn’t locked,” Chris growled as he glared at the door. “I’m getting a bit tired of this run-around shit.”

"With our fucking luck, I would say that it is…" Dominic grumbled, looking worriedly between the two ladies. 

Leon gave Amara's good arm a gentle squeeze, drawing her attention back to him. He smiled gently before straightening up, reloading his gun as he moved toward the door. 

"I'll check, cover me," he said, and the others were quick to spread out. He waited for a moment and then pushed at the door. 

It didn't budge.

"Told you," Dominic said with a frustrated sigh. 

“Yeah, maybe shut up, dude?” Piers said, pinching the bridge of his nose and wavering on his feet. “Fuck.”

Amara's head snapped over toward the younger man. There was... something odd around him. She looked at Aya and saw that she was looking at Dominic in concern. The 'oddness' grew, and both women swore, grabbing the inhibitors and rushing toward one of the men. Aya yanked Pier's sleeve up, ignoring him as he flailed blindly at her. She slammed the syringe against his arm and injecting the inhibitor. Amara did the same for Dominic as he started swaying on his feet.

“I’m fine! I’m-!” he wobbled in place for a moment and then shook his head, his eyes clearing. “Ah, fuck.”

"Shit, fall back!" Chris said, grabbing Piers by the arm and pulling him along. 

Amara and Leon grabbed Dominic. Aya brought up the rear as they made their way back to the main lobby. Both Dominic and Piers looked better by the time they reached the lobby, but their hands were shaking. Chris looked them over with a frown and looked at Leon. 

“Did you feel anything?” he asked. 

“Not really,” Leon said with a shake of his head. “Got a bit warm, but nothing serious. I think she was warning us off.”

“Well, if that isn’t an invitation to blow shit up, I don’t know what is,” Chris joked with a dark grin. His expression turned serious as he looked over Piers and Dominic. “You two hold down the fort here. We’ll continue ahead. Radio us if anything happens."

"Got it," Dominic said as he and Piers moved to sit down near the reception desk.

"Hey, Aya?" Amara began, turning to look at the other woman. She pointed over at the gate blocking off the stairs. "Is Klamp's office up there?"

"Yeah," Aya responded with a nod. "At the top of the stairs and to the left."

“Blow the gate and get to the doc?” Leon asked, moving to join the girls. 

“Maybe want to try the gate first,” Chris said, also walking over. “Don’t want to go announcing our presence too loudly if we can help it…”

"Sure," Aya said with a shrug, moving over and trying the gate. She let out a tired sigh. "Locked."

“Figures. Never that fucking simple,” Chris said with a sigh. He moved over and rammed into the door briefly to test the give and then shook his head when it barely shook. He started to take out the small charges. “You lot get back.”

"I swear… You just wanted the excuse to blow something up…" Amara muttered as she, Aya, and Leon moved back.

“Why do you think I hold onto the charges on most missions?” Chris shot back over his shoulder with a grin. Once the charges were set, he moved back to their side and had them all duck down behind the large desk. “Three… two… one… Clear!”

The skillfully placed charges went off with a loud boom of sound. The gate fell forward, twisted and mangled, and hit the ground with a loud clang of noise. Chris darted out of cover, gun raised as he started forward, Leon on his heels. Amara rolled her eyes as Aya let out a small giggle. The two women followed the men upstairs and to Dr. Klamp's office.

When they arrived, the door was cracked open. Chris slowly opened the door with his foot, and the four of them entered. Dr. Klamp, however, was not in the office. Chris and Leon moved to search the room and see if the Doctor was hiding somewhere. The pair stopped and back at the girls, shaking their heads. 

“Where is he?” Aya asked with a frown. 

“Not sure,” Leon moved over to the computer and looked at the screen. He frowned and started sorting all the various papers strewn about the table. “T-Virus… Liver cells… Blood serum… Mitochondria? Artificial sperm? I think this is the HLA list? Dammit. I can’t make sense of this mess. Chris, we may need to get Maeda on the comms. He’s the one who figured some of this shit out before.”

“Got it,” Chris grabbed his radio and moved to the side. “Base, this is Redfield.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Captain,” Jacobs said in a semi-cheerful voice. 

“Is Maeda available?” Chris asked as Leon worked on sorting through the paperwork. Amara and Aya took up guard positions near the door. 

“He’s working on improving the inhibitor, getting a bit frustrated by it actually,” Jacobs said with a laugh. “I’ll get him for you. The kid could use a break and something else to focus on.”

“Do it. Quickly,” Chris said. “We’ve got some information I’m hoping he can help us make sense of.”

Amara could hear sputtering, along with rapid-fire Japanese before Meada's voice eventually came on the line.

"Hai-erm, I mean, Yes, Redfield-San? Is everything alright?" he asked tiredly.

"We've found some documents in Dr. Klamp's office that we need some help deciphering," Chris said, moving over to the desk and looking over Leon's shoulder. "You brought us information before. Hopefully, you can help us sort this out now."

"Of course, Redfield-san! What is it that you have found, and I'll try to help,” Maeda said, sounding eager.

“I’m showing that Dr. Klamp was researching not just artificial insemination, but the creation of artificial sperm cells if I'm reading this right,” Leon said as Chris passed over the radio. “Notes list something about removing the mitochondria from the sperm cells…? There’s also an HLA listing, cultured liver cells, notes on the T-virus, and a blood ‘serum’ with the name of ‘Maya’ on it.”

"Maya?" Aya parroted weakly, looking at Leon with wide eyes. 

Maeda was silent for a moment and then let out a concerned hum of sound. 

"This is not good… Kennedy-San, is there a research code for the blood serum?" he asked. 

“Research code?” Leon searched through things, checking the computer files. “Let's see... Shit. Yeah. EVE.”

"It is most likely that this Dr. Klamp has been cultivating this ‘Maya's’ cells for years,” Maeda said in a rush. “The artificial sperm must be, of course, for Eve. Do any of the documents speak of excluding Mitochondria from the sperm to create a new batch of sperm? Does any of it mention the new sperm having no parasites and only the nucleus? I’m running off of a current hypothesis..."

“Yes, I remember seeing that actually,” Leon said, turning to the computer and clicking through a few files. “Damn. It looks like he was successful in his efforts.”

“Oh, not good,” Maeda said with another worried hum. “I had my suspicions when we talked to him earlier, but… "

The Doctor in question abruptly walked into the room with a sickly smile on his face. He paused for a moment, looking them over, and then jutted his chin up.

"You ordinary beings will never, never comprehend my level of genius," the man said in an arrogant tone. 

“Doctor Klamp,” Chris said, straightening up and pulling a set of cuffs from his belt. “I’m placing you under arrest for terrorist activities pertaining to the current BOW threat to this city.”

"You are all pathetic! Why put yourself in the human domain by reciting meaningless laws… They're meaningless . Do you understand me?!" Dr. Klamp said with a cackle. He eased into the room, turning to look Amara and Aya both over with a sneer. "You both have special Mitochondrial powers, but sadly you both still have the pathetic, weak forms of a normal human..."

Chris made to speak, and the Doctor slashed a hand through the air, turning to look at the taller male. 

"I'm not letting you interfere with Eve," the Doctor shouted. "You hear me?! She will bring perfection to this world!"

Dr. Klamp lunged forward toward Aya and Amara with a mad glint in his eye and a scalpel in his hand. Both women fell back, raising their guns to shoot, but Leon beat them to the punch by... well, hitting the man with a punch. The solid right hook downed the Doctor, and Leon plucked the cuffs from Chris' hand, kneeling down to cuff the unconscious man. 

"Idiot," Leon growled under his breath. 

Amara glanced over at Chris and saw that he had a big, shit-eating grin on his face. She almost laughed. She had to admit, it was nice seeing Leon in action. 

"Thank you, Leon,” she said, turning back to the sandy-haired blonde. 

“Ah.. I-is everything alright over there?” Maeda asked over the radio. 

“We’re fine,” Leon said, rolling his shoulders. “Well, we have confirmation that he was working with Eve. Do you have any ideas about why they wanted the T-virus?”

“W-well,” Maeda coughed and cleared his throat. “F-from what we’ve been able to tell, both with how Amara-san reacted and how the creatures are tougher, it sounds like it was an effort for Eve to absorb the positive effects of the virus without taking on any of the weaknesses.”

“That doesn’t seem to be working out, considering the rotters,” Chris pointed out in a dry voice. 

“Y-yes, well… it’s still making them stronger ,” Maeda shuffled a few papers around, the crackling noise making the group wince. “Dr. Chambers and I are trying to work out how to alter the inhibitor to attack both the Eve-strain and the T-virus… but so far, the tests we’ve run haven’t worked. We’re rather stumped at the moment…”

Dr. Klmap woke up with a groan, rolling onto his back. He began to laugh.

"The Ultimate Being will be born soon…" he said in a dazed voice. 

“The hell are you talking about?” Chris asked, yanking the man up by the back of his lab coat.

"The mitochondria is passed from the mother, but you see… traces from the father can also be found in minute quantities… According to Eve, her sister in Japan could not attain her ultimate goal because… the father's side of the Mitochondria caused a fusion," Dr. Klamp continued with a laugh. "For Eve to succeed this time… I created sperm without the male mitochondrial DNA… The creation was a success… Eve is now pregnant, using Melissa's body as the host…"

“Melissa’s body ?” Chris pulled back with a confused blink. “Is she still aware then? Can Ms. Pierce be saved?”

"Idiot. You humans are so weak… so stupid…” Dr. Klamp said with a laugh, ignoring Chris’ questions. “You may have been able to barge in here and do things your way until now… But things are going to change. I won't let you interfere with Eve anymore…"

He managed to squirm around enough that Chris' grip slipped from the man's coat. Dr. Klamp fell to his knees and raised his head as if in supplication. 

"Eve, can you hear me? Sweet Eve,” he called out in a crooning voice. “You don't have to wait… anymore… I'm ready…"

That weird feeling from earlier, the oddness, the wrongness, came back. A bubble of heat seemed to surround Dr. Klamp. Acting on instinct, Aya and Amara lunged for Chris and Leon, shoving them back and out the window to the first floor below. Both men let out pained yelps and started shouting, but the girls didn't have time to listen. Instead, they huddled behind the large office desk just as a massive wave of heat filled the room. 

As the heat and pressure faded and air rushed back in through the window, Amara and Aya warily peeked out from behind the desk. Dr. Klamp's corpse lay burned to a cinder near where he'd been kneeling. 

“Why the hell would he do that?” Aya asked in a dumbfounded voice. 

Before Amara could answer, her radio crackled to life.

“Amara?” Chris' voice came through strained, along with Leon’s cursing. “Are you alright?! Firebrand?!"

"We are fine, Papa Bear," Amara said as she toggled her own radio. "Aya and I are going to go on ahead to find Eve…"

“Negative, wait for us to… wait, do you hear that?” Chris broke off, sounding confused.

Aya froze as she bent down to grab the keys from next to Klamp's body. The faint sounds of singing flowed through the air. Amara could feel , could almost taste , Eve's power thrumming through the air. The girls shared a grim look. 

"Sorry, Chris, but we don't have time. If Eve's 'pregnant' and we have to stop her before she 'gives birth' to a stronger BOW," she said before switching off the radio. She could hear him bellowing a 'Dammit, hold position!' from before, but she turned to Aya. "Let's go."

Aya nodded grimly, and the two charged out of the room, heading upstairs to where they could feel Eve. It felt like she was on the top floor. Aya switched her ammo over to the ice bullets and readied a spare clip of regular ammo. She paused and looked at Amara. 

“Do you think she injected herself with the T-virus already?” Aya asked nervously. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if she did so. We'll have to be careful," Amara said in response. 

“Got it,” Aya squared her shoulders and kept pace with her as they reached the stairs to the third floor. 

The singing rose in fervor and pitch, making both women pause with a wince, covering their ears with their hands. Ooze rose up and sloughed over to the nearby triceratops display. The goop flowed over the skeleton, and both women backed up as it sank into the bones. The skeleton shuddered, and then fleshy parts seemed to form around the skeleton, looking like muscles and ligaments. The thing stepped off of its display platform and let out a shrieking roar. Both women shared a grim look and then hefted their weapons at the beast. 

"Bring it, asshole," Aya said grimly, and Amara let out a laugh. 

She was starting to like this gal...

Chapter Text

When I next woke up, Wesker was already gone for the day. Oddly enough, I felt better than I had the morning before. Before the whole virus getting angry thing, really. Strange. 

I stood up and made my way over to where my clothes lay folded upon the dresser, freshly cleaned thanks to Wesker's maid. As I went to pick up the shirt, I caught sight of myself in the full-length closet mirror and froze. That... Something seemed off. I walked over to it and looked myself over slowly, frowning. I lightly touched my arms and then my stomach.

Odd. Very odd. I considered myself a decently fit individual. Mainly because, as Wesker's aid, it had been a requirement to learn self-defense, various survival courses, and even a few 'this is how you survive an interrogation' sessions. 

The last bit hadn't been fun in the slightest, but I knew too much just because of my love for the series to not have learned at least the basics. 

But this? This was more than 'casually' fit. 

I ran my fingers over my abdomen and frowned in thought. Honestly, if I chose to dehydrate myself over the next two, two, and a half days, I'd likely be able to pull off a lesser version of that 'super body' look that a lot of actors are forced to endure for movies. That chiseled abs and pop-out muscle thing that people drooled over. 

What in the Hel? How ?

Wesker, Chris, Leon, Jill… Hel, even Claire, Sherry, and Jake all had, or would have in Jake's case, this same sort of build. At least to some degree. A muscular form, with just a fine layer of natural, healthy fat on top to protect the body. This had to be the work of the virus. Possibly because of the panic-induced tremors from last night? Or was this a slightly slower change I simply hadn't noticed until now? I'd need to ask Wesker later if this was a new development or if I just hadn't noticed the changes. 

Well then , I thought to myself. What else has changed then?

Really, it wouldn't hurt to test my flexibility... and, annoyingly, I knew just how to go about doing so. My mother, along with etiquette lessons, had also forced me to take several ballet and choir classes in my youth. I’d quit ballet within a year, and choir within three years, as neither had appealed to me. The lessons had been her idea. Not mine. I'd outright hated the ballet classes. Ballroom dancing had been tolerable, enjoyable even with the right dance partner. But ballet? Blech.

I'd have preferred to learn more about camping and surviving in the wild and otherwise indulging my tomboy nature, but there was only so much that my dad had been allowed to teach me because it wasn't 'lady-like.'

Still, once you learned how to do something, it was fairly simple to remember the steps. I could recall the basic ballet lessons even now. Practicing would likely prove to be a different matter, but it would be a good way to test how limber I was or wasn't at this point. I slipped on my bra and underwear before gingerly starting to go through a few basic warm-ups in front of the mirror. 

Unsurprisingly, it took a good ten, twenty minutes to loosen up my muscles. The general soreness in my limbs was more than noticeable but tolerable. I grabbed the fine chair next to the small work desk to use as a bar. Feeling more than a little silly, as it had been over decades since I’d last attempted such exercises, I began with a four-count of Demi Pliés.

When that didn’t make my knees protest, I transitioned to a four-count of Full Grand Pliés. From there, I worked through Tendu in the first position, then in fifth, and moved on to a Pas de Cheval. I paused for a moment and stared at my reflection with a frown. 

Odd. Very odd. 

While I had a decent memory, I knew I hadn't made a single mistake. Or at least, not one that I would have noticed. I should have slipped up at least once by now. Perhaps it was just because the memory was sticking out so strongly, but... I shook my head and continued, shifting into a Degagé in the first position, then in fifth, and so on. I was in the middle of doing a Developpé, left leg raised up and to the side, balancing on the ball of my right foot with my hands pointed toward the ceiling, when Wesker's voice filled the air.

"Did you do Pointe?" his voice was filled with a hint of amusement. His version of gentle laughter.

The sound of his voice made me start, and I dropped my foot quickly back to the ground, feeling more than a little embarrassed. I winced as my foot protested the sudden movement. Ow. Shifting my leg and rolling the joint a little revealed a small ache. Not a sprain, thank goodness. It'd be fine if I didn't overwork it any further for the day. 

"No," I said, looking to the side and refusing to meet his gaze. I knew I was blushing up a storm. "I only did one year of ballet lessons. Mom's insistence, really."

"And yet you can move with the grace of one at least moderately practiced in the art. Hm," he said, stalking over to my side. His hands fell to my hips, fingertips running teasingly over my skin. "I'm surprised that I did not know about this sooner…"

"Yeah, well, if you can't tell, I didn't enjoy myself and rather gave up on those classes," I said, looking up at him over my shoulder. He was referring to the surveillance cameras he'd placed in my home. "No reason to practice something I hated doing. Only did it now to see if I could."

"You don't care much for your mother, do you?" he asked with a chuckle, pressing against the line of my back. 

"Not exactly. I loved her, but… it was a strained love. The woman had a lot of expectations for me that I flat-out ignored as I got older. Very fond of backhanded compliments and veiled insults couched as compliments," I responded with a huff. I shrugged at him and then looked back at the mirror to look myself over again with a frown. "Got along better with dad. A lot better, given that I was a bit of a tomboy. Got to learn how to shoot a gun. Climbed all the trees in our backyard. Almost gave them heart attacks a few times doing that, actually."

"Now that , I can picture. Far more easily than imagining you in a ballerina's skirt," Wesker said with a small chuckle. His fingers passed over the line of my stomach, and he let out a small hum. "You're more toned than you were…"

"Noticed that myself," I said with a shiver at the touch. I leaned back against him. "It's… disconcerting. Like I'm no longer in my body. And I know I shouldn't have been able to do some of those exercises so easily. It's been years …"

"The virus also improves memory recall. Perhaps that assisted you with your practice. You'll find yourself doing better with regards to more than just strength and skill," he purred, kissing the side of my neck and wrapping one arm around me from behind. His other hand rose and tilted my head up so he could examine my eyes again. "Hm. Still no further changes to your eyes…"

"It's… possible that the full effects of the virus may not 'activate' unless I… well…" I let my voice trail off and shivered, though this time not out of pleasure. More unease. 

"Unless you die first," he said, voice emptying of all signs of emotion. His arm tightened around me, not quite painful but still enough to make it uncomfortable to breathe for a second. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating over my back and making me shiver. He relaxed abruptly and shook his head, sneering. "Ah… we will not be testing that unless necessary, it seems…"

"Do you think the virus is sapient?" I asked hesitantly. It was better to know now if the 'emotions' I sensed were my own imagination or not. “The way we have both reacted at times to certain stimuli is, again, disconcerting.”

"Sapient? No," Wesker responded with a huff of amusement. "This isn't some 'DC' comic book brought to life, my Lorraine. It is, however, sentient to a moderate degree. Unlike normal viruses, I have noted that it is aware of itself enough to actively protect its host. In a symbiotic fashion more than anything else."

"Ah. Alright then," I leaned back against Wesker with a sigh, resting my hands on his arm. I chuckled and muttered at him. "Marvel."

"It is a marvel, isn't it?" he said, sounding pleased. He leaned closer to breathe in my scent. "I am quite proud of William's work."

Oh, gods. I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter hard enough and long enough that tears began to fall. Wesker pulled back slightly, and I knew he was staring down at me with a raised brow and a bemused expression. One finger tap-tap-tapped against my side as I struggled to reign in my giggles. I hiccuped into my hand and turned around in his grasp, so I could reach up to pat his cheek gently. He endured the touch, brow arching just a little higher. 

"I was correcting you," I said, amusement ringing quite clearly in my voice. " Marvel comics is the one with the sapient parasite. Not DC. Although I agree that William's work was quite 'marvel'ous."

Wesker blinked down at me. A slow, lazy blink. He let out an equally slow sigh and shook his head.

“Really, Lorraine?” he asked in a dry voice. “Puns?” 

“Sorry,” I said unrepentantly, giggling into my hand. “The opening was there.”

“Just because you have an opening does not mean you should strike,” Wesker said, voice still dry as the Sahara. He started to pull me toward the bed. I let out a huff but followed him. He sat down, smoothly kicking off his shoes as he did so. He went to pull me down onto his lap when my phone rang. “Dammit.”

“Hopefully, it's something simple,” I said with a sigh, moving to grab my phone. Wesker let me go, taking off his coat and setting it aside before laying down on the bed. I picked up my phone and blinked at the number frowning in confusion. I hit ‘talk’ and put the phone to my ear. “Lorraine speaking.”

“Is Wesker around?” Chris’ voice growled in my ear. 

“Well, hello to you too, Chris,” I said, forcing my voice to be super cheerful and rolling my eyes. “How are you doing?”

“...” he was silent for a moment before he sighed heavily. “I’m fine. And you?”

“I’m well,” I said, letting the fake cheer fade from my voice. I chuckled and glanced at Wesker. “And Albert is laying down right now.”

“He sleeps?” Chris asked in a dry voice.

“Seriously, Chris? Of course, he sleeps. He’s still human,” I responded with a sigh, running my fingers through my hair. 

I glanced over to the bed and saw Wesker chuckling softly into his hand, one knuckle against his lips. He raised his finger up in a shushing motion and stood up.

“I doubt that,” Chris muttered under his breath loud enough for me to hear. 

“Chris, lay off,” I ordered in a firm voice, looking away from Wesker as he stalked closer to me to glare at the wall. “You called me for a reason, big guy, so what’s wrong? Did you find any new traces of Eve?”

“Not yet. And yeah, I have a reason,” Chris’ voice lowered into a growl. “You need to make sure Wesker doesn’t get near Amara’s blood samples.”

“What?” I blinked in surprise and shook my head as Wesker enveloped me in his arms, much as he had during my conversation with Amara. “Chris, I think you're operating under a misconception right n-”

“He does not touch those samples!” Chris barked out.

“Do not take that tone with me, Christopher Redfield,” I snapped back, hand clenching into a fist. “I am not one of your soldiers to be barked at like that!”

“Dammit! Don’t you understand what a danger he is!?” he snarled. 

“I understand well enough. Dammit, Chris. I’m the glorified equivalent of a high-paid secretary, for fuck’s sake!” I growled back, feeling my shoulders tense. Wesker let out a silent huff of amusement, placing a small kiss against my neck that made me shiver. “I am the ‘Face’ of my branch of TriCell and help make sure all involved parties have the information they need when they need it! Most of the shit I do right now is PR work. Why in the Hel do you think I can somehow control what Albert does and does not have access to!? You should be yelling at the BSAA and the UN! Not me !”

“Can’t you say something?!” Chris said, his voice softening somewhat and turning into something near to a whine. I knew that he was slumping his shoulders. He usually did when the fight left him. “Anything?”

“Chris, I’m not going to lie and say that Albert is ‘doing this or that' to keep him away from Amara’s samples,” I said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Wesker’s hands moved to rub at my shoulders, thumbs digging in gently to help with the tension. I bit back an appreciative groan and leaned back against him. “If the UN or the BSAA request his help in analyzing her bloodwork to generate a possible vaccine for the various viruses, then there is nothing I can do. He’s a scientist and a virologist. He’s also one of the few people still alive who understands these kinds of viruses so well. Especially since he's worked with some of them from the beginning. You need to realize he may end up being called in.”

“Dammit,” Chris swore, and I heard him punch something soft. A pillow, maybe? At least it wasn't a wall. Or a boulder. “Dammit. Can you at least warn me if he gets called in? I can arrange to be on whatever team he gets attached to.”

“I...” I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at it incredulously. Did he really just suggest willingly being near Wesker? I put the phone back to my ear. “Will you behave yourself if it comes to that, Captain Redfield? Can you set aside your animosity and actually let him do his work without being an absolute ass? I know how you can get when it comes to Albert.”

“Anything for Amara,” Chris said in a soft voice that made me smile faintly. He'd only previously used that tone when talking about Leon. “She’s been good to us over the years and now… I want her to be safe, Lorraine. Even if it means holding my tongue while I watch over that son-of-a-bitches shoulder.”

Wesker tapped my shoulder lightly with one finger, and I turned to look at him. He nodded his head, and I nodded back. At least Wesker was okay with working with Chris. I let out another sigh and shook my head with a chuckle. 

“You’ve got it bad, Redfield,” I said in a teasing tone. “You haven’t sounded like this since Leon said ‘yes’ to that first date a few years back.”

“Yeah… well… oh, shut up,” he groused and grumbled under his breath. “Will you do it?”

“If Albert gets called in on the project to make a kind of mass inoculation, I’ll call you first thing, big guy,” I said gently. “I promise.”

“Thanks, Lorraine,” he let out a heavy sigh. “I ain’t happy about this, you know. But… I guess… you do you?”

“I’d rather avoid any cloning experiments that would result in ‘me doing me,’ Chris,” I joked, causing him to groan. Wesker pinched my side in mild punishment for the joke, and I swatted at his hand, trying to contain a giggle.

“You know what I meant!” he said, and I knew he’d facepalmed. 

I snickered. Yeah… There was a reason I liked the occasional ‘punny’ moment. Especially when talking to Chris. He usually reacted perfectly to such jokes. I blamed my dad for enjoying the damned things so much. 

“Just… call us if shit hits the fan?" he continued after a moment. "You’re a friend. As Leon just reminded me…”

“I know you have bad memories about 'old friends,'” I said, shaking my head and letting the smile fade. “I get it. I’ve no intention of being ‘that guy,’ Chris. Just try not to kill my fiance if the two of you have to work together?”

“No promises,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Try to stay safe…”

“I will. You take care, big guy,” I said, ending the call with a frustrated sigh. 

“I find myself surprised and yet not,” Wesker said with a bemused huff. “People have done the most audacious things in the name of ‘love.’ Working with a mortal enemy being one of the most noted ones in literature and history alike.”

“True enough,” I responded, stretching up on my toes and leaning back against him. “Figure out anything with the samples we have right now?”

“I believe I will be able to drastically improve the effectiveness of the Eve-strain inhibitor,” he said, fingers sliding up the line of my stomach and chest. “At which point-”

This time it was Wesker’s phone that went off. His hands stilled against my chest, and a low growl reverberated in the room. A shudder ran through me. I glanced at him over my shoulder and noted that his eyes were all but glowing, even under the shades he habitually wore. I smiled at him, feeling a little mischievous, and squirmed free of his arms. Snarling, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back and into a mind-melting kiss that was all tongue and passion and fire. 

Wesker let go a moment later, panting faintly and looking at me over his shades with a viciously hungry gaze. He straightened up, his expression going blank, and moved to the bed to pull his phone from the inner pocket of his coat. 

“What is it?” he asked, voice bland despite the annoyance that I could read in his body language. He scowled a moment later and placed his hand over the phone. “Get dressed. We’ll be leaving shortly. Do you have a skirt for your suit?”

I blinked at the sudden question and raised a brow at him before shaking my head. He let out a hum and turned his attention back to the call, letting out soft ‘hms’ as the other person explained whatever it was that was going on. Leaving him to it, I turned and moved over to the small bag I’d packed some belongings into when he’d said he wanted me over at his place. I took out my usual suit and set it aside, thinking that would do. I'd brought one elaborate top but wasn't expecting to use it. 

Wesker moved up behind me, making me start. I watched him bemusedly as he shifted the clothes in my bag around. Wesker found and pulled out the one dress I had packed away at the bottom. I felt my cheeks warm when he raised a brow at me. It was a long Diana gown, black in color. One of the few dresses that I owned. He held it out to me and motioned to put it on.

“Why?” I asked as softly as possible, taking it in my hands. 

“A UN representative is visiting the island. We’ll be going to the secondary base,” he murmured back. I winced and let out a soft sigh as he turned back to the call. “Understood. We’re on our way. Hm. Thirty minutes. Good.”

Another sigh escaped me as I quickly brushed my hair and pulled it back in a low ponytail. A quick shimmy later, and the dress was on and smoothed out. The soft cashmere felt nice under my hands. I'd only packed it in my bag because I'd thought to... Well, it was silly, but I'd thought about surprising him by wearing it at some point. I seldom wore dresses. Suits, yes, but not dresses.

I grabbed my modest, one-inch heels and slipped them on before applying some lipstick. A quick double-check in the mirror, and I nodded to myself, satisfied. Wesker moved to my side, slipping his coat back on and straightening his shirt. My lips quirked into a small smile as I gazed at our reflections. With us both wearing all black, we looked like we were about to head to a funeral or go out on a mission as spies.

"Come along, Lorraine," Wesker said, taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm before starting for the door. 

I hastily grabbed my purse and let him lead me outside to the limo. The driver held the door open for us, and we slipped inside. Before I could settle in my own spot, he promptly pulled sideways onto his lap. I laughed softly and settled in against him.

"So why am I being dragged into this meeting?" I asked, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck and breathe in his scent. 

"Why?" he let out a low laugh, hand sliding up my waist. "To show off my 'domestic side,' of course. Another layer of harmlessness for the fools to be blinded by. I am but a 'former servant of Umbrella, freed from their clutches and desperate for the normalcy of the family I was never allowed to have.'"

"Right," I drawled and shook my head. "Sometimes, it still surprises me at how easily people will believe what they want to believe."

"'Truth,' for most, is subjective and not factual," he said in a dry tone. His other hand trailed down my leg and teased along the hem of my dress. That same hand then slowly started to creep up my leg under the dress. It was a teasing, tantalizing caress that made me inhale sharply. "Many build a world in their heads that, to them, is immutable, unchangeable."

"And then it all crashes down when the factual truth hits them upside the head," I said, shifting into his touch. I reached up to run my fingers over his hair, careful not to muss it. "Never a fun experience."

"It can break lesser people," he agreed with a hum. Those gloved fingers trailed higher still, moving to brush along the line of my undies and then slid beneath to tease the bare skin. I let out a low moan. "I imagine your arrival here was one such upheaval."

"Mmm… yes and no," I responded, shifting my hand to his cheek and drawing him into a slow and lazy kiss. 

I pulled back with a gasp as his finger slid into me, and he chased after me, mouth pressing hungrily against my own. The hand at my waist slid up my back, pressing me closer to his chest as he deepened the kiss. Our tongues warred for a few moments before he pulled back, licking his lips. His eyes glowing faintly in the dark confines of the limo.

"Oh? Do explain," he purred, his finger slowly beginning to delve in and out, teasing at my insides. 

"I've… ah… rather long believed in the possibility of the Multiverse Theory being real in some form," I arched against him with a low whine when his finger slid free. "Damned tease…"

"Language," he growled warningly, shifting his hand to pinch at my inner thigh. I yelped. "We will both need to be on our best behavior at this little meeting. I know the theory. Continue."

"Right," I let out a huff as he suddenly shifted me off his lap and onto the seat beside him. I was left leaning against the side panel. He swiftly pushed the hem of my dress up around my waist. "So my arrival here was either all a dream or proof of… of the… nnngh."

I broke off as he shifted and leaned down, pulling my undies aside so he could lick along the line of my slit. Over my clit. I reached down for him, about to tangle my fingers in his hair, only to stop as he grabbed my wrist. The look he gave me was one of hunger and warning. 

Right , I thought dazedly, swallowing roughly at the look in his eyes. We needed to look presentable when we arrived at the secondary lab. 

I pulled my hand free and grabbed the side of the seat cushion instead. 

"Continue," he said in a low voice before promptly going back to sliding his tongue over and then into my wet hole. His thumb started to rub firm circles over my clit as he held me pinned down against the seat.

"Haaa… right… proof of… the theory ," I finished with a low groan as his tongue shifted about within me. The cushion tore slightly beneath my fingers, and I forced my grip to relax. "Every day I woke up… here… was another day… proving it wasn't… all a dream… Wesker !"

A strangled noise escaped me when he did something twisty with his tongue and gently rolled my clit between his thumb and finger. It sent a sudden orgasm tearing through me. I curled inward for a moment and then fell back against the side of the car with a groan. Clever, evil man. He rose up above me, licking his lips and running his thumb over his chin. Those dragon's eyes roamed greedily over my form. Another low growl escaped him as he undid the zipper of his pants and yanked me close. I was having trouble thinking. Wasn't there something...?

I jerked up quickly and placed a hand on his chest. 

"Protection…" I managed to get out through grit teeth. Gods, I wanted him inside me so badly. 

"What?" he blinked at me, eyes unfocused. The pupils were blown wide. He shook his head, and his eyes cleared, pupils narrowing. "Ah… Yes…"

Wesker's voice was rough and heated with lust, but he pulled back long enough to dig a hand into his inner pocket to pull out a wrapped condom with the TriCell logo on it. He tore it open with his teeth and quickly moved to place it around his length. He actually fumbled for a moment, pausing long enough to force himself to take a calming breath before continuing in his usual controlled manner. That control slipped away seconds later as he lifted my hips and surged forward into me with an animalistic snarl. 

My back arched at the fierceness behind that implement, hand flying back to hit the side of the limo. I felt the metal dent under my fist. There was a small burst of static from the front of the cabin.

"Mr. Wesker, is everything alright?" the driver asked.

"Ignore anything you hear and keep driving," Wesker all but snarled at the man. 

"As you say, sir," the driver responded in a bland tone. Probably not the first time he'd heard someone fucking in the back of his limo...

"Let's try to avoid further damage to my property, hm?" Wesker said with a dark laugh, reaching out to grab my wrists and hold them in one hand. 

He pinned my hands to my stomach and braced one hand on my shoulder to hold me pinned against the seat. Those dragon-like pupils began to widen once more as he resumed thrusting in and out of my form. A low whine escaped my throat as I tried to wriggle free. Tried to meet his movements. He thwarted me at every turn, shifting with me to keep me bound and trapped beneath him. All I could do was wrap my legs around his waist and hold on as he claimed me. 

I tried to keep it down. Tried to muffle my cries. But he wasn't having any of it. Wesker growled above me, yanking the thin, one-shouldered sleeve down to expose my breasts. His mouth closed around one nipple, biting and suckling hard enough to make me howl. Part in pain. Part in pleasure. His hand tightened around my wrists and shoulder for a moment before he abruptly let go. He grabbed my hips in a bruising grip not even a second later and started taking me harder than before. 

"Wes… ker… " I whimpered, grabbing onto his wrists and clenching my eyes shut. Fuck… fuck, it felt good. But it also hurt. The condom felt wrong inside me somehow. Invasive and abrasive against muscles that were far more sensitive than before. "It… nnngh… ah… ahhh!"

Despite the discomfort, despite the pain, his increasingly desperate movements forced me to peak a second time. I came with a wail, arching backward and trembling, legs clamping down tight around his waist. A frustrated snarl escaped him a moment later, and he forced my legs open, making me yelp. He pulled out of me long enough to rip the condom off and toss it aside before grabbing my hips again in a near-bruising grip. A deep-throated groan escaped him as he slid home once more in a harsh thrust that forced another cry from my throat, and his head fell back. A full-bodied shudder ran through his form as he savored the sensation of my still-quaking body clenching around his cock. Another deep growl filled the tiny space, and after a few rapid, wonderfully vicious thrusts, his seed filled me in hot, hot pulses. 

He fell forward, catching himself with his hands braced on the seat cushions to each side of my head. I let out a low croon and leaned up to gently kiss his brow. Odd. He was sweating. It usually took more than a few rounds before he started working up a sweat. I touched his cheek.

"Are… you alright…?" I asked, voice full of concern even as I panted softly for breath.

"That..." Wesker was quiet for several long moments. Eventually, he opened his eyes and looked down at me. The pupils were still blown wide, leaving a faint circle of orange around the dark center. His voice was a deep, thrumming growl when he finally spoke. "No condoms…"

"Agreed," I said with a wince, shifting my hips. I could feel my insides healing around him, but… "That was beginning to hurt far too much for my tastes."

"Being unable to truly feel your body around mine was… upsetting ," he said, licking his lips. He caught me in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, shoving himself as deep as possible within me as he did so. I whined against his mouth, writhing reflexively beneath him. He pulled back with a purr. " This is… better. I will see if I can develop a unique preventative for either of us…"

"That'll work," I said with a groan, wriggling my hips. Now that the damned condom was gone, I wanted to go again. Sadly…

"Mr. Wesker," the driver said over the speaker. "We will be arriving in five minutes."

"Noted, Monroe," Wesker responded, easing back and out of me so he could straighten his clothes. I sat up as well, quickly putting my dress and underwear back to rights. Wesker touched my wrist, and I held it out to him so that he could examine it. "Good… no bruising."

"Not really worried even if there was," I said with a chuckle, leaning in against his side and letting out a contented sigh. 

"And how would you possibly explain such a thing to our 'esteemed' guests?" he asked, all but rolling his eyes. "I do not need them to think that I am abusing you, my Lorraine."

"Awww," I shifted, so I was sitting on his lap again and tapped his nose playfully. He bit at my finger in retaliation, eyes flashing in warning, and I withdrew it with a laugh. "It's not abuse if I like it rough on occasion, Albert . I've worn similar bruises as badges of honor and made people uncomfortable as Hel when they decided to butt in and ask me oh so sweetly if I'm ' okay ' or ' need someone safe to talk to .' Just keep in mind that I can be an outright bitch… or I can be your pretty princess begging for more. Benefits of being a switch. Not that you've let me top yet."

I flashed him a playful pout, holding my wrists together and giving him a faux innocent look. He let out a soft bark of laughter, grabbing my wrists and pulling me in for another hungry kiss. 

"I'll keep that in mind," he growled against my mouth. "For now, behave. We have a show to put on."

The limo pulled to a stop, and I shifted off of his lap so he could step out. He helped me out of the limo a moment later, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I stood. I smiled up at him and tucked my hand into his arm as we moved toward the front of the building where the UN representative was waiting. 

Showtime...

Chapter Text

The Triceratops charged at the two women, forcing them to leap away from each other to avoid being speared by the re-animated creature's horns. It skidded to a stop, head flailing. As it did so, lightning somehow crackled between its horns. The lightning flashed out from its body, and both women were barely able to duck out of the way. They rolled to their feet, opening fire on the thing. It lowered its head, pawing at the ground much like a bull might. 

“Shit! It's going to charge! Aya, watch out!” Amara called out to the other woman.

Amara ran to the side even as Aya did the same. The beast went for Aya first, and upon missing the other woman, it spun about and charged for Amara. She managed to avoid the horns, but its tails still caught her as it twisted around, sending her rolling across the ground. Grunting, she scrambled back to her feet and managed to avoid another burst of electrical energy. 

The blonde woman continued to fire at the beast, trying to distract it. Amara frowned as she watched the blonde woman dart to the side. It was like she was moving a little faster than normal. Odd. She didn't have time to dwell on it, however. They had a monster to beat. 

Her body was working overtime. She could feel it. Warmth pulsed through her as the worst of her injuries and bruises healed. Both women opened fire on the beast, and it let out a shriek. At first, they thought they'd beaten it, as the head melted and ooze splattered to the ground...

But it kept moving . 

Without a head, the beast's body blindly charged around the room, hitting the walls and sending nearby display pieces crashing to the ground. Lightning crackled off the form, hitting the walls randomly and leaving scorch marks across the surface. 

"Shit," Amara shoved her gun back in its holster and focused on her ice abilities, trying to slow the charging beast down. 

Sadly, its movements were too erratic to pin it down. On a positive note, the creature was slowed long enough that Aya could switch out her ammo for the Tsukiko's special bullets. A few well-placed shots from Aya while Amara tried to pin the headless beast in finally felled the damned thing. The two women panted for breath and shared a look of relief and determination before turning and starting down the hallway. 

That relief proved to be short-lived as another roar filled the air. Something heavy slammed into both women and sent them through the nearby glass window and down toward the floor below. As they fell, Amara managed to grab the other woman's body and twist around so that she hit the ground first. A pained cry spilled from her lips as something cracked. Aya let out a small groan, pushing off of Amara and looking her over worriedly. 

“Are you okay?” Aya asked, holding her arm. 

A light, almost a glow really, surrounded the limb before Aya started flexing her fingers and shaking out her hand. 

"I, uh..." Amara let out a weak laugh as she realized she couldn't quite feel her legs. "I don't think so..."

High, soprano singing filled the air, echoing around them. Another roar filled the air, and they both looked up to see a newly 'revived' Tyrannosaurus Rex perched above them. Its head slammed against the glass, sending shards flying before it dropped down to their level. Amara tried to push herself up, and though she could feel that healing heat spreading through her, her legs remained unmoving. 

“Aya, you're going to have to leave me here," Amara said, gritting her teeth. “Get out of here and get to cover!”

“No. Fuck that. Not leaving you behind,” Aya snarled, hooking her arms under Amara’s and hefting her up. 

The T-rex turned toward them and roared. Before it could charge them, another voice filled the air. 

“Get the fuck away from them!” Chris’ voice roared from across the room.

There was a 'whoosh' of noise, and a decent-sized explosion hit the Rex in the side, sending it stumbling and off course. Both women paused and looked over to see Chris kneeling with a fucking rocket launcher on his shoulder. Leon was at his back, moving quickly to help the brunette reload the weapon. 

Where the...? Oh, right , Amara blinked and shook her head dazedly as Aya carried her behind another display case. The Jeep. They probably sent Piers or Dominic to grab it since the other two can't continue...

“You need to try to heal yourself,” Aya said worriedly, popping out of cover to fire a few ice bullets at the T-rex. Unlike the Triceratops, the ooze around the T-rex was sickly and rotted, making them more effective. “Focus!”

"Aya, I have a broken spine ," Amara growled at the other woman, feeling her body heat up to almost dangerous levels as it struggled to heal the injury. Everything from the waist down was a wash of agony. "Gonna... take time . Go help the guys!"

“I am helping the guys,” Aya said with a strained laugh as she ducked back down and reloaded her weapon. “Every time I pop up, it gives them time to reload and draws the T-rex’s attention to me for a second."

Amara reached down to her waist and shakily grabbed two clips of ice-ammo, passing those to the other women. The blonde gave her a grateful look before popping out of cover to send off a few more volleys before ducking back down once more. There was a distant but familiar 'tink-tink- boom ' of a grenade and another roar from the Rex. 

"Seriously, what the hell does the BSAA get in terms of donations that you guys have access to such high levels of gear?" Aya asked with an incredulous laugh. "Especially when you get a fucking rocket launcher in your 'starting loadout.'

"You'd be surprised," Amara responded with a weak laugh. "We face some pretty dangerous shit. BOWs aren't anything to joke about."

"You're telling me," Aya said with a shake of her head. 

There was a subtle change in the air, and Aya ducked back down and over Amara just as she'd been about to take a shot. The T-rex let out another roar, and a wave of heat filled the area like a small explosion had gone off. She heard the two men yelp and felt her heart jump to her throat. Gunfire filled the air a moment later, and she slumped back against the ground. 

They were okay...

Amara wasn't in a position to see the fight, but she could hear the T-rex as it backed toward them. Could feel it as its tail or body slammed into the platform the two women were hiding behind as Amara struggled to focus on her healing. Chunks of the platform went flying. Aya was sent tumbling back and hit one of the pillars hard. 

Amara was left partially exposed. 

She quickly rolled over and started to army crawl away from the damned thing. Her feet were tingling. Sensation at last where there had been none only moments before. The T-rex, sensing wounded prey, stalked toward her with a low, unnatural growl of noise.

Chris popped out from behind another display base, rifle against his shoulder. He unloaded a magazine of ice ammo into the creature's side, causing it to skitter back and away from Amara. The Red turned, opening its mouth wide, and another wave of heat filled the area as the brunette ducked back out of sight. 

Almost there. Almost... She could feel her legs now. An all-over itching sensation that crawled up and down both limbs. 

"Fucking hell," the blonde woman managed to push herself to her feet. She darted past where Amara was, letting out a yell and firing at it to grab the beast's attention. "Over here, you over-grown chicken!"

The jaws of the T-rex snapped shut inches away from the blonde's form as she ducked behind another pillar. Leon and Chris both popped out of cover, opening fire. It was a war of attrition between them and the damned T-rex...

And it looked like they were winning. 

The Rex backed up as if it was retreating from their shots. It abruptly stopped and ran forward, leaping up into the air and landing between Amara and everyone else. The beast spun around, sending another wave of fire toward the other three and forcing them back behind cover with shouts that sounded equally enraged and worried. It turned back toward Amara and growled, stalking closer. 

"Goddammit," she hissed, trying to push herself to her feet despite the pain. 

Sadly, she wasn't healed enough for her legs to support her weight. Amara tumbled back to the ground and rolled onto her back with a strangled growl of frustration. The T-rex stepped over her, letting out an angry-sounding hiss as its mouth opened wide. Flames licked over its teeth. 

“Amara!” Chris and Leon’s voices both filled the air. Frantic and afraid. 

Fear. Sorrow. Anger. Pain. All of those negative emotions flittered through her mind, and this time she embraced them. Drew on them. She refused to die here. Not like this. Amara slapped her hand onto the ground, and ice shot out like a lightning burst toward the T-rex. The fire flickered out, and it backed away from her, but not fast enough. The ice shot up its legs, and it let out one last bellow of sound before it was turned into an ugly ice statue. 

Exhausted, Amara's head fell back against the ground. She let out a small groan. Everything hurt. She could feel her legs now, but her back hurt and her legs hurt and... She closed her eyes and growled low in her throat. The past kept coming back to haunt her. She kept getting hurt. Her allies kept getting hurt. She was just. Plain. Pissed. 

“Amara? You okay, Yuki-onna?” Leon asked as he reached her side. She opened her eyes to see him looking her over worriedly and checking her for injuries. 

"My back," she said with a growling moan. "I'm overheating..."

“Hold still and try to focus on healing,” Aya said, kneeling down next to her. “We’ll keep you covered. I’d help if I could, but I can’t seem to help others like you can. I tried earlier while I was pulling you away…”

“Try to wait up for us next time, Firebrand,” Chris said with a mirthless laugh, squeezing her shoulder. She could read the open concern in his eyes.

Agitation pulsed through her, and she gritted her teeth. Dark thoughts flitted through her head again. The stupid singing hadn't stopped either, and it was annoying her . Her jaw clenched tight as she focused her attention on her injuries. Focused on speeding up the healing process. Her legs had finally stopped tingling, and the pain in her back had eased up enough for her to sit up. Leon caught her arm and helped her to her feet. She wobbled for a moment but was able to catch herself. 

“Got it, okay?” he asked in a soft voice. 

"Yeah, I'll be okay," Amara responded with a tired smile. 

She drew her gun from its holster and slid in a fresh magazine. The others all reloaded as well before the four of them shared a glance and a nod. Leon gave Amara's shoulder a small pat and a smile as he moved toward the stairs. Chris, in turn, gave her a quick, one-armed hug before following the sandy-haired blonde. 

“Any guess on where she is?” Chris asked, looking back at her. “And turn your radio back on.”

"Fourth floor," Amara said with a faint wince, flipping the radio back on. 

Melancholy pulsed through her, and she shook her head. Emotionally, she felt numb. She was kept at the center of the group, wincing every now and then. Aya looked a little pale as well, pausing to rub at her head every so often. They kept silent as they moved, only speaking when asking or offering directions. 

They made their way to the fourth floor and stopped in front of a goo-covered door. The singing also stopped. As if the person on the other side knew they were there. The four shared a grim look of determination before positioning themselves around the door to make sure that no one was in the immediate line of fine. Leon reached out and tried the door. To their joint surprise, the door was unlocked and opened easily enough despite the ooze. They shared another look before quickly pouring into the room with guns raised, spreading out. 

Eve sat on what looked almost like an Egyptian throne, but it was hard to tell with all the large, pulsing veins surrounding her. Melissa's form had twisted and mutated, becoming horribly bloated by her 'pregnancy.' She even had a twisted second set of arms that were slowly caressing the bloated stomach. Her chest was a twisted mess of growths. It took them all a moment to realize they were additional breasts, not just growths. Eve opened her eyes and looked up at them with a smile.

"Well, that's disturbing," Chris muttered with a grimace. 

Amara couldn't say anything as she gazed at the 'pregnant' being in front of them with disgust. Eve raised a red-clawed finger to her lips, signaling for them to stay quiet. Thoughts of Tamara flitted through her head and made her wince, her head jerking to the side. Aya did the same thing next to her and hissed. The two women stalked toward Eve, with Leon and Chris taking up the rear behind them. 

"You know," Eve began, voice full of mock surprise, "it's an absolute wonder that you all made it here."

"What are you planning to do, Eve?" Aya growled angrily. 

"What do you think I am going to do, Little Aya?" Eve asked, her smile twisting to one of vicious amusement. "And why are you being so rude? Aren't you going to congratulate me on my pregnancy? On the joyous moment of new life taking shape before you?"

Aya stiffened next to Amara and would have said something, but the mutated woman turned to Amara with a creepy tilt of her head. 

"And you. What an interesting look you have in your eyes," Eve crooned in a cold voice. "Are you jealous that I have something you cannot? Oh, you have your mates, but mates are such fickle useless things. Or perhaps you are beginning to realize how we are connected, my dear Mara Mara ?"

Without thought, Amara's gun rose to point at the woman. Rage pulsed through her. How dare that bitch use that nickname. She started to pull on the trigger, but just as she did so, Eve threw her head back and started to sing . Amara and Aya both stumbled, hands flying to their heads. Amara could feel her anxiety and depression flare up. She could hear them. 

Hear him ...

*Worthless woman!*

*You aren't beautiful, and you sure as hell aren't worth the time of fucking.*

*A family?! What a joke. Who would want a family with an ugly little pig like you?*

The singing grew louder and louder in her ears. She could barely hear Chris and Leon shouting in concern. Barely hear the gunshots as the two men opened fire on Eve. Hateful words, painful memories, all of it flickered through her mind like watching a badly put-together film.

But Amara knew what it was now. 

She knew that Eve had been fucking with her this entire time. 

Eve had been the reason her depression had kept spiking since coming to New York despite her years of therapy and the careful balance she had struck trying to keep herself and Dominic safe from their teammates. Eve was the reason she'd been doubting her capabilities more and more despite proving herself in battle several times over. Eve was the reason why the memories of him kept tormenting her almost hourly, especially after that damned call. 

Amara hefted her gun, hand shaking as she took aim at the woman's face. Eve smiled almost joyfully, lifting one of her many hands up toward the wall of the building nearest the street. There was a heavy series of rumbling sounds, like giant footsteps. Just as Amara pulled the trigger, a giant orange, gooey hand slammed through the wall. The bullet hit the ooze and stopped before it could reach the mutated woman. 

It curled around Eve, picking the woman up and lifting her out of the room. Aya and Amara both opened fire, but the ooze absorbed their bullets. Eve's bell-like laughter faded into the distance. Groaning caught Amara's attention, and she twisted around worriedly, finding Leon and Chris kneeling on the ground. Empty injectors fell from both of their hands. They looked ill and were sweating heavily. 

"Chris! Leon!" Amara rushed over, holstering her gun and reaching for them. One thought rang through her head, sending rage pulsing through her blood. Eve had hurt them. She'd hurt them! "Are you two alright to continue?"

"Fine, I'm fine," Chris managed to gasp out through his panting. "Shit... When she started singing, it felt like my blood had caught on fire."

"Was I..." Leon broke off with a cough before leaning back to fall onto his ass. "Was I hallucinating, or did a giant fucking hand just punch through the wall...?"

"You weren't seeing things," Aya said as she looked the two men over, applying some of the first-aid spray to the reddest parts of their exposed skin. "Fairly certain that was the ooze that Amara, Dominic, and I flushed out of the sewer system."

After making sure both men were on their way to recovering from Eve's attack, Amara stood and moved over to the giant hole in the wall. There was nothing but anger in her heart toward the former woman. Not after she had hurt her men. She shook her head, clenching her jaw, and turned back toward the others. The radio crackled to life before she could say anything. 

“Captain!?” Dominic’s voice came over the radio, high and worried. “Are you guys alright?! Did you fucking see that?!”

"We're fine," Chris responded with a groan, pushing himself back to his feet. "And yeah, we saw. We need to get back to the forward base ASAP. Did you get a direction for where that thing was heading?”

“Yeah,” Piers piped up this time. “Thing’s making a beeline toward the water. Like it's heading out to sea. Honestly looks like it's heading straight toward the Statue of Liberty.”

“Dammit,” Leon said with a grunt, pushing to his feet. “Let’s get back to base. Quickly. Maybe if we coordinate with the Navy, we can keep the damned thing from going too far for us to track down.”

The four headed quickly for the front of the building. Amara kept silent and felt like she was in a bit of a daze. Not a depressive haze. No. This was dangerous. A steady beat of hatred and rage. She answered the others with clipped, one-word answers, finding it difficult to reign in her temper. 

It was odd... and yet it wasn't. She was just so damned angry that Eve had hurt Leon and Chris. The protection that the T-virus had afforded them against the woman-turned-BOW hadn't been enough to protect them. If it hadn't have been for the inhibitors made by TriCell, they likely would have... They might have. She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head and looking around herself. A small start ran through her. 

They were back at the forward base. 

She'd been running so thoroughly on auto-pilot that she hadn't even registered the drive back. She stepped out of the Jeep.

"You back with us, Amara?" Leon asked from next to her, reaching out to rest a hand on her arm.

"I'm..." Amara eased into the touch, feeling some of the anger settle. She rolled her tongue over her teeth and rolled her shoulders. "I'm okay, Leon. This is just a rough mission, is all."

She really didn't want him to know just how pissed she was. She'd been upset before, but never like this. Never a protective fury that threatened to overwhelm her thoughts. 

"Alright," he said with a faint smile. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, and they headed inside. 

“Listen up, everyone!" Chris called out, gathering everyone's attention. His voice was dark with contained anger, but she could see the dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes. Another flicker of upset pulsed through her, but she took a deep breath and let it out, focusing instead on what her... On what Chris was saying. "We have a major BOW incident going on, and I need plans for how to put this thing in the ground as of yesterday . Dollis, do you have anything for us on this end?”

"Yes, sir," Dollis said, straightening up. "The US Navy is already moving in to help us. They’re moving to set up a blockade near where the giant… giant thing is headed.”

“And I’ve developed an ice missile that may be able to disable it!” Tsukiko called out, pushing her way forward to the front of the group excitedly and bouncing on her toes. “At the very least, it should slow it down.”

“I-I-I…” Maeda stepped forward stuttered for a moment before his sister elbowed him in the side. “S-sorry. C-captain Redfield… I am trying to work out how to boost the inhibitor that TriCell sent to us, but I keep h-hitting a roadblock…”

“Dollis, Tsukiko, good job,” Chris nodded to the two and turned to look at Maeda. “Keep working on it, Maeda. We may need that. Garcia, Brea.”

“I hate to ask this, but Leon and I cannot approach Eve any longer,” he said in a strained voice as he turned to the two women. They both straightened to attention. “Even with the inhibitor, it was still rendering us useless for a face-to-face confrontation.”

“She’s gotten stronger,” Aya said with an agreeing nod. “I think Ms. Garcia and I can handle her, though. We’ve gotten stronger too. And I don’t think she can affect us anymore.”

“Affect you? What do you mean?” Chris asked, his brow furrowing in concern as he focused on the blonde. 

“She… I’ve been seeing and hearing things,” Aya said with a shake of her head. “An old childhood friend dying. Old teammates yelling at me back in training. General depression and anxiety but ramped up to eleven. Amara?”

"That..." Amara pursed her lips as she looked at the other woman. She nodded and turned to look at Chris. "Yeah, same with me."

"You can tell it's Eve and can somehow block the effects?" Chris pressed, a faint hint of concern in his eyes, though that concern didn't reach his voice as he needed to continue to project calm to the rest of those gathered. 

"I can tell it's her doing it now," Amara said firmly, meeting his gaze with a raised chin. 

"Just knowing that it's an outside attack helped," Aya said, determination ringing in her voice. "We can block her out."

"Good," Chris nodded, his lips quirking faintly and his eyes flashing with pride as he locked gazes with Amara. He blinked and looked around, gaze landing on Tsukiko. "Ms. Maeda. Read your background. Weapons researcher and former military pilot during your days in the Japanese military. You're a civilian now, but are you able to drop your new toy on the damned thing's head if we get you in an attack helicopter?"

"I can do that," Tsukiko said, straightening up and jutting out her chin. "If we go at the right angle, I can also drop Ms. Garcia and Ms. Brea on top of the BOW. Have them parachute in after I hit the thing."

"You're a credit to your country offering to do that. May steal you for the BSAA," Chris said, lips quirking again as the group laughed and cheered at the suggestion. Tsukiko blushed at the praise but kept her head up. "Keep an inhibitor on you at all times and keep your distance when you attack. We have no idea what this thing's reach is at this point. Do not take unnecessary risks."

"Sir!" one of the techs near the monitors interrupted, standing up and yanking his headset off. "The BOW just took out two of the Navy's choppers and stopped at the Statue of Liberty. Our own pilots are keeping their distance. It's covered the island and has stopped moving."

"The hell?" Leon moved over and looked at the screen. He squinted at the image feed from the helicopters. "There's movement near the top of the statue."

"Got it, Garcia, Brea, and Tsukiko," Chris looked back at the three women. "Move out. We'll provide support and direction from here. Additional helicopters will join you in the air to provide cover."

The women nodded and gathered together to get replacement armor and ammo. Tsukiko popped up next to her, having changed into a BSAA outfit, and passed Amara a case. Blinking in confusion, Amara took it and opened it up to reveal a gun. A Desert Eagle, actually. It was a beautiful silver and black number. The grip had an engraving of a black bear on it, and there was an inscription along the barrel.

Beware the stare of the mama bear.

Amara chuckled softly and pulled out the magazine to examine the ammo. Unlike normal bullets, or the blue-colored coded ice bullets Tsukiko had made, these were painted a bright red. She frowned and looked up at Tsukiko questioningly. 

"This is a special gun I had designed for you. The Kumo," Tsukiko said, pride ringing in her voice. "The bullets are one-of-a-kind explosive rounds. Each magazine holds up to eight rounds."

"Thank you for this, Tsu," Amara said with a small smile. "Shall we end this then?"

Tsukiko nodded and turned to leave the room. Amara slipped on the Kuma's under the arm holster and slipped the five magazines in the case into her thigh ammo pouch. Once ready, the three girls stepped back outside. Amara paused briefly when she heard Chris' voice barking out toward the comm techs. 

"Get TriCell on the comms, now!" he was yelling, sounding a little miffed. 

As much as Amara wanted to stay to make sure Chris and Leon were really going to be alright, but she knew that stopping Eve was the priority. The trio continued on, and Aya and Amara got settled in the helicopter while Tsukiko made sure the missile was loaded up. 

Once up in the air, Tsukiko turned them straight for Liberty Island. Three other helicopters followed them in the air to provide cover. Amara and Aya shifted to stand behind Tsukiko in the cockpit after slipping on and securing themselves in parachutes. The sight of the orange goo covering the island made Amara's lips curl in disgust. 

"Garcia-San and Brea-San," Tsukiko said with a frown as she prepared to fire. "Get ready. Almost in firing range..."

A few moments later, the missiles went flying toward the mass of goo. They hit the main body of the ooze beast, freezing over a large chunk of it. Several other missiles were launched from the other helicopters a moment later. They hit the goo, causing large chunks of the ooze to go flying. The rest of the goo shook violently and then seemed to explode itself. Everyone in the helicopter watched with wide eyes as the Statue of Liberty fell over, and the rest of the goo fell in puddles over the island. 

Amara and Aya shared a dark, knowing look. They could both still feel Eve. 

Light flared below them. Two large, hand-like appendages extended from the ooze. They kept extending, revealing long arms that rose and twitched in a way that was disturbingly similar to spider’s legs. The hands slammed into the ground, and Eve's head rose from the ooze. The hands were attached to her head as if they were twisted, mangled twin-tailed braids! 

The woman's chest and face almost looked normal once more. The arms, though... Those were twisted monstrosities. One limb extended upwards, twitching and unfurling to look like something that was in the process of becoming a wing. The other was large and ended in a mass that could have been mistaken for a spiked club. The woman's torso was a mass of red growth that, at a distance, almost looked like a dress. Extending out from the bottom of that 'dress' were two emaciated legs, one normal leg, a fucking clawed hand, and a weird, twisty tail-like appendage. 

Eve tilted her head back, looking up at the helicopters as the beams of light hit her almost like stage lights. She tilted her head to the side, like a broken doll's head, and gave them a 'winning' smirk. 

Tsukiko let out a gasp and hunched in on herself. Amara grabbed one of the inhibitors from her pouch and unloaded it into Tsukiko's neck. The younger woman let out a strained gasp and reflexively pulled back on the stick, jerking the helicopter up and further into the air. 

"Easy, easy, Tsukiko. You're okay," Amara said to the younger girl. "We're going to jump. As soon as we do, get out of here. Okay? We got this."

Tsukiko nodded her head jerkily. Amara knew she likely felt just as exhausted as Chris and Leon did after Eve's attack in the museum. And she hadn't even been as close as the two men had been to the BOW. Amara moved to the back, Aya already ready to jump. They both checked that the other helicopters were out of the way and then jumped. 

Once at a decent distance from the ground, they pulled their shoots and landed on the goo-covered island. They quickly shucked off the parachute packs and drew their weapons before rushing forward to find Eve twirling about in the middle of the Statue's debris. She paused in her 'dancing' and turned to look at the two women, grinning maniacally. 

"I knew you both were there," Eve purred, body swaying back and forth to music that only she could hear. "You know... I can see it when you both reminisce on the people who were closest to you. Can see the pain of having lost the one you saw as a sister. You know... I had a sister once. And yet, she chose to side with the humans. And for that... she perished."

Amara and Aya shared a confused look before turning back to the twisted woman. She stiffened when she realized who Eve was likely talking about. The one Japanese scientist's wife. The one that he had tried to bring back to life. If they were all, somehow, linked to each other mentally, then that meant that the other woman had ended herself rather than let another version of 'Eve' take over. 

"I don't understand..." Eve said with a frown, looking the two women over. "You both can and have evolved ! Why do you choose to side with a doomed species?”

"We aren't as doomed as you pretend to think," Amara growled, hefting her gun a little higher. "Maybe our mitochondria gave us the ability to evolve, but it sure as fuck wasn't to become like you ."

"It gave us the ability to get rid of you!" Aya finished with a sneer. 

"Oh, but I do love your sense of humor, girls," Eve said with a cackling laugh. She went still, smile widening. "Tell me, do you know why humans kill and kill and kill? Especially their own kind?"

"I suppose you're going to tell us?" Amara snarled as she took a few steps to the side. Aya moved the opposite way, putting a little space between them just in case. 

"Oh, but I am," Eve said with a giggling laugh. "You should already know that all organisms have a 'territory.' A place to call their own. A place protected from one's 'natural enemies.' And yes, humans think they don't have a natural enemy apart from their own kind. They think that is what allowed them to prosper so. But you're wrong. Oh, so very wrong ."

Eve spread out her arms and shook her head, even as Amara frowned in confusion. What the hell was the crazy bitch talking about?

"Poor dears, you're still so confused," Eve said in a mockery of a soothing voice. "Let me explain. We , the mitochondria, made humans the perfect breeding ground. The perfect environment for us to grow. As such, humans have come to rely so much on their precious 'civilization,' never realizing that we were there. That we were ready to awaken. The perfect storm, as one might say."

"So you are saying that we, humans , were kept alive only for the sake of the mitochondria in our blood?” Aya asked, voice ringing with utter disbelief and disgust. 

"I am saying that Humans are mere vehicles for us to transport us until it was time for us to be free once more," Eve said, lifting the winged hand to point at herself and then at the two women. Bot Amara and Aya stiffened at the implication that they were anything like Eve. "There's no need for them anymore. The vehicle has served its purpose, my dear sisters. We mitochondria will take Humanity's place and rule over this world!"

"Fuck that and fuck you ," Amara snarled at the woman, her frayed temper snapping. "You tried to hurt my friends and family. You're nothing but another BOW that needs to be stopped!"

"I'm not going to just sit by and let you hurt my city!" Aya snapped as well. 

"Oh, my poor, poor sisters," Eve said with a sad sigh as she began to float into the air. "I will make you see the truth of my words."

Before Amara or Aya could take a shot, bursts of lightning launched from the 'hands' extending from the woman's head. Both women dodged to the side, rolling back to their feet and opening fire. They started with the ice bullets, hoping to do the most damage. The rounds hit, yes, but barely seemed to affect the BOW. Snarling, Eve lifted the club-like hand and slammed it down toward them, sending spikes crackling with energy launching toward them in a wide spray. 

Both women dropped to the ground, the spikes going over their heads. Screeching, Eve lifted her hand to attack again. Amara ducked behind a large chunk of the Statue, covering her head as several spikes hit the metal and crackled. Aya rushed over, skidding to a stop next to Amara as she reloaded her gun. 

"Ice bullets are barely doing anything to her," Aya hissed softly, trying not to be heard by the deranged and mutated songstress. "Regular bullets do even less."

"I noticed," Amara responded in a dry tone. 

"Should we focus on alternating our powers and guns?” Aya asked with a frown. 

"Might be the best route," Amara said with a nod and a shrug. "Since the ice wasn't doing much, I'll see how she reacts to my flames."

"Got it. I'll see how my own energy blasts work on the bitch," Aya said with a grin. She glanced at Amara, where the magnum was tucked away. "Heard Ms. Maeda say those were special. Might want to give them a try too." 

"Not a bad idea, given the situation," Amara said with a huff of laughter, tucking away her usual gun and pulling out 'Kuma.'

They both darted out of cover, one to each side of the fallen chunk of the Statue, only to stumble as a wave of energy hit them. Eve was cackling again. 

“I’ll give you girls points for trying!" the mutated woman said, rising up higher into the air. "But enough with this. Watch and learn what evolution really means!”

Ooze flew up from the ground to cocoon the woman like some macabre version of a butterfly chrysalis. They fired at it, trying to stop whatever metamorphosis was going on. The cocoon cracked as they fired at it, launching flames and energy both, but when it burst, the woman rose into the air laughing. 

She almost looked human... Except that her hair had mutated into massive, flashy wings that ended with grasping humanoid hands. Her arms looked more human-like but ended in bulky forearms that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a boxer or a heavyweight champion, and yet the fingers remained dainty and ended in sharp claws. Six spiked tails extended from the woman's rear, each twitching like spider limbs. Her legs were once more humanoid but were wrapped with what could have been mistaken as human ribs, fusing the legs together. From there, a bony, tail-like protrusion extended from her legs, slowly flicking back and forth like an agitated cat's tail. 

It was like staring at some sort of twisted amalgamation of a human crossed with a manta ray. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Was this the Ultimate Being Eve had said she would 'birth?' Had she done all of this just to evolve into this twisted form before them?

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Aya said as they ducked back behind cover. She looked around at the debris lying about before turning to Amara. “I’ll go left. You go right?”

"Yeah,” Amara looked at Aya with a nod. “Just be careful. I have a feeling she's a lot faster than before like this."

“Doesn’t help that she can fucking fly ,” Aya groused good-naturedly. “On three. One… two… three!”

Aya burst out from cover and darted to the left, firing bursts of energy from her hands. She scored a hit against Eve's left side, making the woman screech. The mutated woman launched another needle-like attack toward Aya, forcing the blonde to duck back behind cover. Amara darted out, launching a fireball at the woman's back with one hand and firing at her with Kuma. Both the explosive round and the fireball hit, and another ear-piercing screech and darted higher in the air. Energy crackled in her hands, but before she could launch her attack, several missiles slammed into her from behind. The woman fell toward the ground but caught herself and flew back up with another shriek. 

“Amara!” Dominic’s voice crackled over her radio. “Piers and I will keep her from flying off! Take the bitch out!” 

"Looks like regular old humans managed to get a hit in, Eve !" Amara shouted at the other woman with a vicious grin. 

“Damn you, you little fools !” Eve roared, spinning in a circle and launching a wide spray of needles that forced the other two women to duck behind cover. “I will show you the true power of mitochondria! You will kneel before me!”

The woman began to sing, high and mournful. Darkness slammed into Amara's mind, cutting off her vision for a moment. Aya let out a pained shout from somewhere nearby. There were four more explosions, and the singing cut off. Amara stumbled to one knee, shaking her head to clear it. She looked up with a snarl and shared a dark, vengeful look with Aya before they looked back at the cloud of smoke where Eve had been hit. 

“Take that, you ugly-ass mermaid!” Piers shouted over the comms. “We got you covered gu- Whoa !”

A massive beam of light shot from the smoke, dissipating it and revealing the enraged visage of Eve. The light shot between the three helicopters, forcing each one up and to the side to evade. The beam still clipped the tail of one, but the pilot was skilled enough to keep the copter up as it limped away from the battlefield. 

“Jacobs had to withdraw!” Piers said over the radio. “Dominic and I are still gearing to go!”

"Remind me to treat you all to a fucking feast when this is over!" Amara shouted into her radio as she ran for cover, firing at Eve as she went. 

"Hell yeah!" Dominic said with a laugh.

Eve let out a shriek as the explosive rounds hit her in the side, flitting backward and to the side. Aya popped out of cover, sending several bursts of energy at the mutated woman. Despite their best efforts, a good two-thirds of their attacks missed. Eve was moving with a grace and speed that surprised both of them. The Bow swooped in behind Aya, smacking her with a backhanded blow with one of her fleshy wings. Aya managed to roll with the blow, getting shakily back to her feet as she reloaded her gun. 

The attack put Eve's back to Amara.

Taking the opening provided, Amara unloaded her gun at the BOW and then followed up with another fireball. Amara could feel her energy draining the longer the fight went on. She stumbled as she dodged another of the damned flighty bitch's attacks, struggling to reload her gun with shaking fingers. Eve rose into the air, flitting about as she dodged more missiles from the helicopters. Amara and Aya both bolted for cover, but the massive explosion slammed into her from behind with the force of a bomb going off. 

The pair was sent flying and landed in a heap next to the head of the Statue of Liberty. Amara let out a pained grunt, struggling to push herself back up. She could just barely hear Eve cackling over the ringing in her ears. Her everything hurt. She glanced over to Aya, seeing the woman curling up, one hand on her leg, which was twisted at an odd angle. Amara growled, just managing to push herself up to one knee. She looked around blindly for her gun... 

And her eyes fell on the broken plaque that had been at the base of the Statue. 

-Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Amara growled low in her throat. The bitch attacking them claimed to be an entity as ancient as time itself. Claimed to have used Humanity for centuries as nothing more than puppets to strength itself. Claimed to be more than Human. Better than human...

Fuck that , she thought angrily, pushing herself up and reaching for Aya's hand. 

They weren't going to fall here. Not to Eve. Not to yet another Human BOW mutant with a god-complex. They weren't going to let this bitch get away with hurting more people. Hurting her people. Families had been torn apart. Every day people and officers and helpless, innocent children had been slaughtered because of this bitch. 

Her hand closed on Aya's, and she willed her abilities to the fore. A ragged scream ripped from Amara's lips as she willed her healing powers to work both on herself and on Aya. Aya let out a choked cry as her leg snapped back into place. They helped each other to their feet to glare up at the floating thing that had attacked the city. Fire and ice started to swirl in Amara's free hand. White, crackling energy danced across Aya's. 

As they looked up at Eve, Amara could feel nothing but cold satisfaction. For the first time, she saw genuine fear in the other woman's eyes. That fear froze the woman in place... and bought Dominic and Piers enough time to send a volley of missiles into the BOW's backside. As Eve fell forward, Aya and Amara attacked as one, letting out twinned screams of rage. The combined energies from the two women locked hand-in-hand launched forward and slammed into Eve’s body with a massive burst of concussive force. The explosion was enough to send both exhausted women back to their knees. 

Eve was still hovering in the air as the smoke cleared. At first, Amara thought that it hadn't worked. That they'd expended the last of their energy for nothing. Then she noticed the ooze-like blood dripping from various wounds across the woman's body. There was a massive cracking sound like a hundred wine glasses breaking simultaneously. Eve's extremities cracked and broke apart as the woman fell to the ground. Pieces of her body skittered across the ground before melting and evaporating. The woman's mouth moved as she tried to say something, but she made no sound as her upper body melted away as well. 

"So... uh," Aya started, falling to her knees and letting out a weak laugh. "Girl power for the win, yeah...?"

"Y-yeah," Amara said, dropping down onto her ass with a weak laugh. "For the win..."

Chapter Text

*Lorraine POV*

The meeting with the UN Representative, Jacques Monat, was going surprisingly well. 

At least, in the sense that we were thus far succeeding in our goal to have the man see Wesker as 'a redeemed man' that wanted to help the UN outside of the occasional Black Ops mission. On the flip side of things, I wasn't entirely sure I liked the guy much. 

Mainly because there was subtle flirting... And then there was Monat's style of flirting. 

Which had all the subtly of a flaming brick being thrown through a window. 

Not only were there constant comments along the lines of 'if only I were a younger man,' but there were also the blatant compliments of 'how lucky' Wesker was to have found a 'petite beauté' like myself. The French Representative was unintentionally testing both of our tempers.

Or perhaps the commentary was intentional. It wasn't impossible. Some people who joined the UN got where they were based on connections and money alone but didn't have the brains to actually do their jobs well . Others got where they were by being brutally honest. Further still were clever little shits that put forward a pretty, distractable mask to keep people from realizing the truth. 

Regardless of what kind of man Monat was, he at least wasn't the groping sort. He had some manners.

"I am quite pleased to see that our reports were not wrong about your charming self, Monsieur Wesker," Jacques said with a kindly chuckle. "It is always good to see good men and women throw off the yoke of oppression and retake control of their fate."

"Thank you. Captivity ill-suited me even during my youth," Wesker responded in a dry tone. "I was lucky enough to be one of the few children in the program to make it to adulthood. I can only thank my good friend Dr. Birkin for his sacrifices. Were it not for him, I would not have been able to do even half of what was necessary to ultimately bring Umbrella down."

"Still, what happened to the members of the STARS units was a pity," the older man said, losing his smile and shaking his head with a sigh. 

My hand flexed on Wesker's arm. A small note of tension began to sing through me. Was the mask falling away finally?

"A pity indeed," Wesker said in response, allowing something that could be mistaken as sorrow to bleed into his tone. 

"Then why not act?" Monat pressed, turning to look at Wesker with a raised brow. "Why not do more to save them?"

"I did what I could, Mr. Monat," Wesker said, his voice shifting and becoming almost bitter. I leaned against his side gently, seemingly trying to convey a show of comfort despite my own outright discomfort that I was keeping carefully masked. We needed the UN Rep to believe Wesker's story after all. "I trained them to be the best that they could be and more in the two years that I had with them. They'd have perished to a man otherwise."

"Don't let Redfield, Chambers, Burton, or Valentine hear you say that," Monat said with a chuckle. The look in his eyes was that of a man who desired more information, not the flirting fool he'd been playing himself off as. "I imagine they would be quite upset."

"That's well within their purview," Wesker said with a dry chuckle and a shake of his head as we toured the building. "Redfield may hold to his convictions, but his time in STARS helped to shape him into becoming a better man. He'd been discharged for insubordination from the Air Force, and Umbrella saw in him the perfect test subject for their combat experiments. I , however, saw a man who could learn to lead his people to hell and back."

"He has become that," Monat replied with a nod.

"Indeed," Wesker said with a faint smirk. The blonde did have a good amount of respect for the other man, even if he loved pushing all the brunette's buttons. "As for Ms. Chambers, the young rookie was thrown into the ranks and was meant to be nothing more than cannon fodder for their tests. Yet she lived because she trusted in my training."

"A bold statement," the other man responded with a raised brow. "I doubt she would agree with you."

"She can agree or not. It does not change the results," Wesker said in a firm voice. "Had I not put her through the same intense training and practice as the others, had I not insisted on drills as often as I had, she would not have had the endurance to survive as she did."

"Perhaps you might have a point," Monat said with a thoughtful hum. I felt the tension in my shoulders ease a bit. "And Valentine? The reports say you imprisoned her..."

"Correct," Wesker said with an agreeing nod. "However, in those same reports, it is important to note that she was in a cage where she was safe from the infected and mutated loose in the building. She was injured, though not infected, thankfully, and needed time to recover from those injuries. I bought her that time under the pretense of playing the role of the villain."

Monat nodded as we passed by one of the break rooms and started to loop back toward the front of the building. 

"As for Barry's family and my threat when he stumbled on my ties to Umbrella," Wesker continued with a faint sigh, "we were being monitored. Neither he nor I could have afforded anything less but complete cooperation during the events of the mansion. Not only that, but the threat spurred him on and kept him moving when he otherwise would have given up."

After having spent years getting to know the man, I knew that Wesker had actually been pleased with the performance of the surviving STARS members during the events of the mansion. Less because he was proud of them or something like that, and more because their efforts had bought him a better chance of securing the information he needed to secure a safe exodus from Umbrella. Neither of us would ever say that, of course. Wesker was playing a long game. If the potential increase he hoped to see in our longevity was what he was estimating, then he would be playing that long con for several decades more. If not longer still. 

He needed that illusion of someone respectable to hide behind.

"Well, perhaps you may have a point," Monat said, tilting his head slightly and glancing toward me before looking back at Wesker. "Could you not have done more for your Bravo Team?"

"In truth, no," Wesker shook his head, feigning a mournful frown. "I was given limited information about the test, primarily because I, as I found out during the events, was also a test subject. I knew there would be BOWs within the mansion, of course… But not outside the mansion. Bravo team was supposed to go in and secure the area before radioing Alpha team to come in. An egregious oversight, I'll admit."

"There are very limited actions one can take when being sent on a suicide mission to test a new weapon," I said in a gentle voice, making a small show of squeezing Wesker's arm reassuringly. "You did what you could with the information you had."

The three of us continued to walk in silence for several minutes before Monat let out another thoughtful hum. Almost the entirety of his mask had fallen away, revealing a calculating man beneath. 

"You speak well, Monsieur Wesker," Monat said eventually before turning to look at me. "And you, Ms. Kvale, have been a boon to the BSAA and TriCell both. Your handling of several situations over the years has helped save many lives. I wonder, however, at your choice of partners. Perhaps you could elucidate for me why you would be with one reviled by your very friends?"

"I know you've seen the results of war, Mr. Monat," I countered in a stern but respectful tone. "Every UN representative has, even if some turn a blind eye to the fallout or ignore their own countries histories."

Monat gestured for me to continue. My fingers tightened on Wesker's hand, and I straightened, coming to a stop. Both men paused and looked at me, though I saw Wesker's lips twitch just a little bit in amusement. 

"History has seen child soldiers, both male and female, grow into adults for enemy forces and then later defect in search of freedom," I continued earnestly, meeting Monat's gaze. He raised a brow at me. "As I asked Chris not long ago, why do those children turned adults deserve the chance of amnesty, but not Albert? Why do adults, fully aware of the consequences of their actions, get granted amnesty, but not Albert?"

"Hm," Monat stared at me for a moment before bursting into laughter and nodding his head, the mask settling back into place at the drop of a hat. "Bon point, mon cher. Bon point. Your beau's behavior since fleeing the clutches of Umbrella, while perhaps not strictly on the up and up, as they say, has been highly beneficial for the UN. Seeing that mauvaise companies brought low warmed an old man's heart."

"I can honestly say I'm proud of his efforts in bringing Umbrella down," I said with a genuine smile, looking up at the tall blonde next to me. Wesker let out a low chuckle and dipped down to kiss my cheek.

"You're far too good for me, my Lorraine," Wesker purred gently, his lips quirking up in that darkly amused smirk of his. 

Bastard making me blush , I thought, feeling my cheeks grow warm.

"Ah, doux amour," the UN official said with a barking laugh as I ducked my head. "Were I but a younger man. But, sadly, I am not. Come, I would like to see-"

Whatever it was he wanted to see would have to wait, it seemed. One of the many technicians in the building rushed over to my side. The younger woman was one of our frequent runners if the BSAA ever called TriCell about a mission that needed our medical and scientific know-how. I released Wesker's arm as the woman skidded to a halt near us, practically bending double as she worked to catch her breath. I placed a hand on her shoulder, helping her straighten up. 

“What’s happened, Teresa?” I asked with a concerned frown. 

“Captain Redfield on the line, ma’am. It’s…” she swallowed and stood up. I could clearly see the fear in her eyes. “The BSAA have a chopper in the field and… It’s not good, ma’am. You should come and see this. Dr. Wesker and Mr. Monat too.”