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2024-06-01
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Chrisker Week 2024 Day 1

Summary:

Day 1 (June 1) : Co-parenting / Time Travel / "Who did this to you?"

Chris belonged to Wesker. Wesker could feel a sense of power pulsing through him, having his former subordinate at his mercy. He could snap his neck at any moment, just as he could smash his skull against the white tiles of his lab. Chris's life had always been his. Discovering that someone else had marked him awakened something that tasted like jealousy and possessiveness.

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Chris's body fell heavily to the floor. Wesker easily immobilized him, his hand closing around his throat to keep him trapped. Wesker was barely out of breath from the fight, only his sunglasses missing after Chris had shot at him. The same couldn't be said for the BSAA agent.

It had been foolish to think that a mere man could defeat him. His gun had been torn away and crushed upon their encounter, leaving Chris with only his fists to fight. It was laughable. The anger in Chris's eyes couldn't change the fact that despite his courage and resilience, he was merely human, whereas Wesker was far more, a god capable of transforming the world. He wouldn't be stopped by one man. Not even if dying humanity sent Chris after him.

But that was something he had always appreciated about his subordinate. No matter the danger or the impossibility, Chris seemed to believe he had a chance. Even pain couldn't stop him. Wesker could beat him, mark him, or exhaust him, but Chris would always come back to his captain like a puppy always seeking its master's presence.

Wesker had enjoyed it until the last STARS mission. His survival had been a surprising yet almost expected outcome. Chris would always come back to him. Whether it was for revenge or to find his partner. The man wasn't immortal, not like Wesker, but he was made to endure as long as Wesker stood before him.

Tightening his grip on his neck, Wesker watched the man try to escape his hold, focused only on his survival and his mission. Wesker could feel a sense of power pulsing through him, having his former subordinate at his mercy. He could snap his neck at any moment, just as he could smash his skull against the white tiles of his lab. Chris's life had always been his.

He almost missed the glint of a blade, releasing Chris just in time to avoid being stabbed by the agent.

It was a waste of time. Wesker would win again and dominate Chris, no matter that the man gained a few more minutes by plunging his knife into his stomach. But the man refused to see the obvious. The wound was already healing when Wesker knocked Chris down with a kick. The knife slipped from Chris's hand, Wesker catching the weapon while overpowering the elite marksman.

The tip slid over the fabric of Chris's uniform, threatening but still for the moment. At the slightest movement, Wesker wouldn't hesitate to stab the man in the heart. His inhuman eyes studied Chris's face, his rapid breaths, fatigue, and sweat, until he saw a detail that stirred an unpleasant sensation within Wesker.

Partially hidden by his BSAA uniform, a hickey was visible. The mark was mostly faded, but it was enough to stir something the bio-terrorist didn't like. His grip on Chris's neck loosened to grip his shoulder.

"Who did this to you?" Wesker growled, his voice cold and demanding. He didn't know why he felt a sudden anger; not for a moment had the blond thought that Chris would do anything other than hunt him or be the BSAA's enforcer. The idea that someone else had touched the man left an unpleasant feeling. Was it a recurring lover? Maybe his tastes had changed since their relationship, but Wesker doubted it.

"Is it Valentine?" Wesker asked with a hint of disgust. He doubted it; Jill and Chris had been very close, but not in that way. "Then maybe it's one of those BSAA or government dogs?" They had no right to touch what was his, no matter the camaraderie Chris might share with them.

Chris bared his teeth, growling and trying to escape Wesker's grip despite the threat of his own knife. "That's none of your business, Wesker," Chris replied, struggling to break free again. It had stopped being his concern long ago, when Chris had seen the man he thought he knew get impaled by his own creation.

Wesker's grip tightened. Chris didn't like the anger he saw in Wesker's eyes, flinching as the man tore at his clothes. The knife slid out of reach of both men, Wesker clinging to his former elite marksman, anger boiling with something else the blond didn't care to understand. Chris was his. Both for his death after years of pursuit and for his life. Wesker didn't care about the contradiction he felt for the brunet.

"No matter who it is, Christopher. You belong to me." His eyes fell on the mark on Chris's skin, letting the anger burn like the lava that should have killed him. "You are mine." And Wesker would prove it by erasing that horrible mark from his skin and replacing it with his own.