Work Text:
I.
They barged through the doors of the hospital, Yuri leaning heavily on Nicholai, their footsteps echoing in the halls. The helicopter had dropped something through the center of the building, and they wound their way through corridors and labs quickly, searching. Carlos took the lead, still trying to work through what had just happened, and why they hadn't been evacuated. Umbrella had left them for dead.
They passed through another lab, this one a control room with a window into a confined room with an abandoned bed. The stark white space was loaded with computers and machines, wires and needles discarded carelessly. He slowed down as his eyes scanned the control booth; computers and screens, and countless notebooks full of scribblings, excited yammerings of scientists. Alice, it read. Strength. Grace. Reanimation. Evolution. He glanced up at the empty room before moving on, the hollow feeling returning with a force. They'd held people in these rooms, performed tests on them, stuck them full of needles. He gritted his teeth, eyes focused ahead of him again, stride steady. God only knows what Umbrella is capable of.
They found the boxes, knocking them open and turning to each other with frustration and confusion. Another dead end. He felt the teeth sinking into his forearm with a grunt, he pushed hard, Nicholai and he finding themselves face to face with what had once been their friend and comrade in arms. And now I've been bitten. He pushed the thought from his mind, his years of training bringing priorities into focus, his mind clearing. Focus.
He pulled the trigger.
II.
The girl she'd been sent to save was infected. But here she stood, eyes clear and bright as any healthy, normal eleven-year-old's. Like me. Somehow, the girl had the virus under control, keeping it in check enough to let her remain conscious and in control. Alice cleared her head, letting Jill take care of their safety for a moment, instead focusing entirely on Angela. Her voice was quiet, downright soft. "Let me see," she reached out, smiling weakly. She had an idea of what to expect, where this diagnosis was going, but she needed to see for sure. "You know I'm not gonna hurt you." She probably wasn't the easiest person to trust. But Angela did, entirely to her credit.
The mechanisms in the lunchbox sprang to life, exposing no carrot sticks and milk boxes, but a cool green glow. The anti-virus. She looked up at Angie, shocked. "How did you get this?" Angie held her ground, unafraid. "My Daddy." The explanation spilled out, even more background to the horrors Umbrella inflicted on a daily basis. Ashford engineered this mutation to help people. To save them. And Umbrella turned it into this. She nodded softly to Angela, forcing her face to remain smiling and sweet, pushing the feeling of revenge for a later time. Not now. She'd get her moment; instead, she pulled Angela forward, wrapping her into a hug, soothing her, for now.
She heard the hinges before the door really began moving, and she stood quickly, drawing her shotgun and pushing Angela behind her in one fluid movement. L.J. popped through the door behind a man in UBCS gear, the white and red logo blazed on his chest like an easy bull's-eye. Besides a suspiciously ashen pallor, he wasn't all that bad looking; he had a steady gaze and Middle Eastern (maybe Latin American?) features, and dark, dark eyes. She second guessed herself after looking closer; either way, Mister Tall Dark and Armed had strong reflexes himself. She glanced down at the sight aimed just over her heart, tossing her head up with an arched eyebrow. "Don't shoot, don't shoot! He's cool! He made a deal with Dr. Doom, same as you." Her finger relaxed on the trigger, checking on Angela as Jill caught the new guy up with his friend's current situation. She watched warily, his skepticism still simmering beneath the surface before she watched it be subsumed by emotion. He'd been close with his buddy; it wasn't just a job to him. But before he could really react, he let loose a wracking, wet, cough, that in this city, meant only one thing.
She cut to the chase, eyes locked on his. "When were you bitten?"
"Three hours ago."
She ignored L.J.'s frustrated reaction, tossing her shotgun to her shoulder deftly, eying the newcomer for a moment. The anti virus. Well, damn. "It's your lucky day." She smiled quickly, her lips quirking wryly. She wouldn't argue; he seemed quick on his feet, and if he was as skilled as his squad designation suggested, she wouldn't mind some well-trained eye candy while she got them out of this nightmare. Made the time go by faster. The more the merrier. Her eyes flicked past him, glancing back with a smile before heading out the door.
III.
They stumbled from the building, safe for the moment; they had Angela. The redhead spent a minute securing their location, making sure they could at least take the time to get in touch with Ashford. He watched her move systematically, gracefully. She was a powerful leader; they fell into step at her word, and they all rallied around Angela. It hadn't taken long, but in a situation where it was kill or be killed, you found allies quickly. A small smile slipped onto his face as he reached for his cigarettes, hands only barely shaking. He could use the nicotine right about now.
"We have something that can help you. Something that can stop the virus."
He pulled in a hit of smoke as he lit the tip of his cigarette, the lighter closing with a sharp click. She stood before him, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of her military issue cargos. "Really?"
"Yeah." She cocked her head to the side. "Why, you not interested?"
He shrugged, grinning. "Until I'm cured, I don't like to get my hopes up."
She nodded, glancing back to the rest of the group. Everyone else was on the steps of the school; they had wanted to make sure the surveillance cameras could see Angela, safe and sound. Carlos was leaning against a tree a few yards away. He didn't want to stay too close to the rest of the crew; between the secondhand smoke and the virus, he was downright dangerous to be around. But she didn't seem to mind.
"I'm Alice." His mind flashed quickly, still sharp. From the lab; she was who Umbrella kept testing.
He nodded, smiling softly. Figures. "Carlos Olivera. UBCS."
She nodded, jutting her chin out. "I could tell." She held his gaze, firm. The Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service was known for being a shady squadron of militia; UBCS was made up of former mercenaries, war criminals, and militants from all over the world. Carlos had one of the more reasonable backgrounds; he'd fought in a guerrilla militia back home against the ruling totalitarian regime, and his skills were significantly valuable to Umbrella. But Alice didn't seem concerned. "You're good with that thing." She gestured vaguely at the weapon slung under his arm, and he smiled crookedly. "Doesn't really matter where you come from; matters more what you do with the time you've got." She raised her chin, smiling softly.
He pulled another drag on his cigarette, unable to keep himself from smiling back at her. "My thoughts exactly."
The payphone on the corner started ringing, and Alice spun on her heel to answer. Carlos finished his cigarette, watching her negotiate with Ashford, and letting himself hope for the first time in hours: for a cure, and for escape.
IV.
The knife spun past her too fast to see, she glanced at the falling guard and then back at Carlos, striding toward her. He shrugged, cocky as ever. "You missed one." She let out a breath, half laugh, grinning at him from across the plaza. It had happened so quickly, how much they relied on one another. There wasn't much room for error, less room for individualistic fear or paranoia; they'd become a team, all of them, and Carlos was the steady heartbeat of it all.
She fell into step with him as they headed for the helicopter, smiling up at him quickly. "Thanks," she said, shaking her head. "Shoulda had him." He shrugged, grinning down at her. "No problem. You would have done the same for me."
They lapsed to an easy silence for a quick moment, before he just let out what he'd been thinking. "We're a good team. You and I." He glanced sideways at her before looking around to make sure they were secure. "If we make it out alive, we should work together."
Alice caught his eye for half a moment before glancing back to check on Angela and Jill. "Yeah," she said, softly, looking back up at him. "Yeah, we are." Partners.
Carlos nodded, smiling. "Right." He swallowed quickly, gesturing back to Jill and Angela. "I'm going to check in with Jill." He fell back, sending Angela up to walk with Alice, and leaning over to ask Jill about something, but before he could get a single word out, an elbow slammed into his temple and a hand closed around his forearm. Things were never as they seemed.
V.
It was a bit of a drive out to the warehouse they'd made into a barracks and command center, and Alice was unsurprisingly quiet. They settled quickly into silence, letting their minds wander and letting Alice rest; Angela climbed into the seat between next to her, and the two of them fell asleep quickly, tucked under a wool blanket Jill had fished out of the back seat. They stopped for gas once, Carlos tossing his blazer onto the seat to pump gas. Jill leaned against the car, watching him pump gas in silence. "Do you think she's the same person?" He clenched his jaw, capping off the tank before turning back to her, expressionless. "I don't know."
* * *
It took a few days before she really got back on her feet; they had doctors take a look at her, but she was physically fine. She was quiet mostly, spending time to herself and recovering memories, feelings, identity. He let her go, watching from a distance as she would take long walks, or sit watching training sessions. She was quiet, withdrawn, but slowly starting to regain her sense of self. After five days she began to join them for group meals, sitting quietly and letting the noise wash through her, her eyes flitting from person to person. They'd swelled their ranks since Raccoon City, and she was getting to know the new crew, as well as remembering the old. Leon, the Redfields, all of them became new again through her eyes. Carlos watched her smile softly, starting to come into her own again. He would catch himself staring; he knew her smile, her power, her fears... He just hoped she would start to know them, too.
A week or so after that, she began talking with Jill, and Angela, and him, bringing up memories from Raccoon City, testing her voice and her stride. Her personality began to vascilate; she could go between timid and shy, quiet and almost unnaturally soft around the edges, all the way to exhuberant, outgoing, loud and brash, almost harsh. She tested her limits, and we let her. She needed to remember what felt right, what was right. She began to settle down again, reclaiming her personality quirks and steadiness; she became even more familiar as she found her own strengths, reclaiming her identity. Somewhere in there she began training again, the phsyicality linking her again to her past. She found emotional strength in the physical pain and physical stress; a broken finger or rib wouldn't slow her down. This... this felt right.
It was a warm night a few weeks later, and Carlos found her outside, sitting on a picnic bench in the training courtyard, leaning back on her hands and staring at the stars. He slid over next to her, leaning back himself. "They're beautiful."
She smiled, nodding, without looking at him. "It just makes you feel so... small. It gives you the right kind of perspective." She stared for a few moments longer, unblinking. She'd been treated like a lab rat, used as an experiment, and then brought back to life to do it all over again. She was only one person, but one that Umbrella had pinpointed for their genetic experimentation, an amazing evolution being trapped like a lab rat. After a moment he pushed forward, leaning his forearms on his knees, staring at his hands. She was finally back, and sometimes it felt like it was all he could do to keep from just wrapping her in his arms, and hiding her from the world.
"I'm glad you're back." He spoke to his hands, only glancing back at her after, with a small smile. "We missed you. A lot." I missed you.
She smiled softly, nodding. "Yeah, I bet." The smile grew, just a little sassy around the edges. The smile faded a bit and she glanced down, then back up at him. "Carlos, I--" She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. Her eyes were wet and she pulled in a shaky breath. "I don't know if I can do this. I remember everything, I finally feel like myself again, but-" She pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I feel like this isn't safe. That I'm not safe." She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. "They did something to me, and I don't know how long I can stay."
"Hey," he said, turning slightly, his hand going out to rub her back, pull her shoulder against his own, her head falling against it softly. "It's all right. We'll make it all right. I promise." He rubbed her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll work through this. It's what we do."
She straightened out her legs again, smiling softly and reaching over to thread her fingers through his other hand. "I hope you're right."
He glanced down at their hands for a second before looking back at her, his hand still slowly stroking her back. "You know, for a second there, we thought we'd lost you." He paused, eyes finding hers. "I thought I'd lost you." He shook his head. "I'll never let that happen again." Not on my watch.
She smiled, nodding quietly; they were inches away, and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed. "Thanks." She pulled back, just a little. He leaned forward, catching her lips with his, soft but steady, insistent. He let the kiss go, resting their foreheads together again, for a moment, in silence.