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Jill waited on the edge of her bed in the little motel room she and Carlos had managed to land upon their escape from Raccoon City, casting furtive glances in the direction of the bathroom he was occupying to shower. When there was still no sign of him emerging, Jill bit down on her thumbnail, beginning to nibble absently, and looked down at the floor as she let her thoughts take over again.
After taking one look at them upon their arrival the day before, the desk clerk had seemed like she had half a mind to kick them both out before ultimately taking pity and allowing the pair to check in to one room, accepting whatever they had on them as payment. Carlos had mused that it was less that she felt sorry for the state they were in and more that she didn’t want them loitering around looking the way they did, but Jill didn’t care either way as long as they had a place to crash. Not that she had gotten much sleep, anyway; she had been on edge ever since the helicopter ride, despite her exhaustion.
Carlos, who had been awake and running on fumes longer than Jill had, took his pick of the two small beds and immediately passed out. Jill had wanted to talk shop in light of all that had taken place, among other things, but she owed that much to him—not only for sparing her from the fate of converting into a mindless zombie, but also the lengths he had gone to keep her and Tyrell safe. The hordes of undead and Hunter corpses strewn about the hospital he had taken her to was proof enough of that.
Jill cast another glance in the direction of the bathroom upon hearing the water shut off before readjusting her position on the bed. She had drifted in and out of sleep while Carlos seemed to have slept for hours on end. Jill had busied herself at one point to get them some clothes not covered in grime and muck—and free from any of Umbrella’s branding, for both their sakes—and had returned to find Carlos awake and complaining of being in desperate need of a shower. Jill had already scrubbed herself raw between her bouts of uneasy sleep earlier and was using the time to further mull things over, as if she hadn’t already been doing that. She knew what she wanted to do—what she needed to do—but as for Carlos…
Steam filtered into the room when the bathroom door swung open, Carlos walking back into the room in the civilian clothes Jill had procured while toweling off his damp hair. The blood and grime was gone, but the bruising across his body and face was ever present.
“That’s much better,” he sighed, draping the towel across his broad shoulders as Jill stood to meet him.
“Hungry?” she asked before Carlos could get another word out. “I spotted a place earlier we can go to. My treat.”
Jill had him by the arm and was leading him out the door before he could respond, though Carlos didn’t seem to mind. He followed her without protest, and Jill noticed the desk clerk from before watching them the entire way, perhaps hopeful that that was the last she was going to see of them. Maybe it would be, Jill thought, depending on how their next conversation was going to go. She wouldn’t blame Carlos if he wanted to leave this nightmare behind as soon as possible, but there was a part of her that inexplicably hoped this wasn’t goodbye—at least not permanently.
Either way, there was one last thing Jill wanted to take care of.
The diner that Jill had scoped out earlier was about as impressive as the motel they were staying at, but she appreciated the seclusion they had tucked away into one of the booths in the corner. The waitress had wandered off to give them time to look over the menus, and Jill peered at Carlos over the top of hers. Head tilted down, his eyes were almost covered by the tips of his hair as he scanned what the diner had to offer, lips pursing as he clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“A shame they don’t have any booze here.” He glanced up to meet Jill’s eyes as the corners of his mouth pulled upwards into a grin, and she snorted quietly as she put her menu down. There was that patented, carefree Carlos attitude, in spite of it all. She was a little envious of his ability to maintain a lighthearted mood, even if it was just to hide whatever inner thoughts and emotions were roiling behind the guise of his relaxed smile. He had just gone through hell and back much like Jill had, after all.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jill replied as she flipped through, not really paying attention to what she was reading.
“I suppose not.” She could tell that he was still looking at her. “Especially not while on a date with Jill Valentine.”
If Carlos was trying to get a rise out of her—which he obviously, definitely was—then he succeeded, as Jill immediately looked up and was met with his self-satisfied little smile as he cocked a brow. What once would have annoyed her when she had only thought of him as an extension of Umbrella had become a little endearing, but Jill wasn’t about to admit that. Not yet, anyway.
She narrowed her eyes slightly in spite of the smile tugging on her lips. “That is not what this is.” Jill pushed the menu aside as she grew more serious. “But I did bring you here for a reason. I mean, I figured we could talk and eat instead of staying holed up in that room.”
Carlos’s eyes widened. “You mean we’re not just here to try the best flapjacks in the state?” he said with mock incredulousness, reading the claim across the top of the menu page he was on.
“No.” Laughter snuck out of her as Jill combed a hand through her hair before regaining her posture. “Look, I…”
Carlos sobered up a tad as he watched her, sensing the slight shift from the previously lighthearted atmosphere. “What’s on your mind, Supercop?”
Jill searched the tabletop as though it would formulate the sentences for her before looking up to meet his eyes again, choosing her next words carefully. “I wanted to thank you—properly. When I woke up in the hospital, you were already gone, and… Well, there hadn’t really been a time before to do it, but I just—I wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me. I clearly didn’t think I could trust you the moment I knew you were working for Umbrella, but I’m glad you proved me wrong. So, um… Thanks.”
Jill felt like that was a lame way to thank someone for saving her life at the risk of their own, but she didn’t know what else to say without feeling like she was repeating herself. Almost instinctively, she reached across the table for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to further convey her sincere appreciation before retracting her hand just as quickly, feeling a little embarrassed afterward at having done so. She quietly cleared her throat, tucking some hair back behind her ear that hadn’t really fallen out of place to begin with, but Jill just needed a momentary distraction until the uncharacteristic surge of bashfulness subsided.
Carlos smiled at her in response, a genuine one lacking in the usual mirth that was present when he wanted to tease her. “I’d do it a thousand times over if I had to.”
Jill stiffened as she felt a sudden, tiny swooping sensation in her stomach at the sincerity in his voice.
“A Carlos-less world would be pretty cruel,” he continued, glancing down at the table before meeting her eyes again, “but I think a world without Jill would be far crueler.”
Neither of them said anything as they gazed at one another. The words sounded corny, like something pulled from one of the guilty-pleasure romance flicks she used to watch, but Jill detected no traces of lying on his end for the sake of a joke. The moment came to an end when the waitress returned to inquire about drinks, and the two stared at each other a moment longer before responding.
“Coffee, please.” Jill glanced in pretty much every direction except for where he was sitting.
“Same,” Carlos added, his voice sounding a little hoarse. He cleared his throat when the waitress walked off again, readjusting himself in the booth before looking across at Jill with another playful smile tugging at his mouth. “Let me guess—no cream and sugar?”
Jill, inwardly grateful that the slightly tense moment of silence had passed, gave a faint smirk of her own. “I don’t mind a little sugar sometimes.”
“Really?” His tone almost sounded suggestive. “Good to know.”
The waitress returned with a steaming pot and two mugs, filling both a generous amount before leaving behind some packets of sugar and creamers as she left to give them more time with the menus at their request. A comfortable silence hung over them as they began dressing up their coffees to their preference, Jill settling for a single packet of sugar to slightly off-set the bitterness.
“A woman of your word,” Carlos mused, watching her as he stirred his mug. Jill, who had already raised her coffee to her lips for a careful sip, peered at him from over the rim.
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Jill raised a brow, her smile partially hidden by the cup, before taking a slow, mindful drink of the hot liquid. It warmed her insides, not unlike the look in Carlos’s eyes as he gazed upon her.
“I am very much aware that you are a woman of many fine talents and qualities,” he said with a low chuckle, “and I definitely wouldn’t mind getting to uncover more of those attributes.”
“Hm.” Jill took another sip. “Stick around long enough and you might find out.” It was meant to come across as banter, a quip, rather than any indication of what she was wanting or hoping for in the nearing future, but another sincere smile appeared on Carlos’s face.
“Well,” he said with a light tilt of his head, “it’s a good thing I’m not going anywhere.”
Jill lowered her mug to the table as she held Carlos’s gaze, a calculating and, admittedly, slightly uncertain look in her eyes as she searched his. Was it just sweet talk, or was he a man of his word in turn? She had no reason to doubt the latter, but Jill chose her next words carefully.
“Might not have time for moments like these,” she said, her thumb rubbing against the smooth ceramic of the cup, “when we’ve got Umbrella to worry about.”
Carlos didn’t waver beneath the intensity of her stare. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure we’ll find the time. Besides, they should be more worried about us.” A look that Jill had never seen before in the time that she’d known him came across Carlos’s face—a darkened expression that hinted at the roiling anger underneath, as well as a touch of regret as he looked across at her.
“I found out the truth about them from Bard, and I—Christ…” Carlos clenched his hand into a fist. “I can’t blame you at all for reacting the way you did when we first met. What Umbrella did is fucked, and that’s putting it lightly. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines while they’re still out there, and if you’re going to take them down… I want to help. I want to be there and do what I can—if you’ll have me.”
Jill could sense his trepidation, as though nervous she would turn him down. His earlier flare up of anger had melted away, and there Carlos sat as he quietly awaited his verdict. To others, it may have seemed silly, but Jill could appreciate that he wasn’t trying to force himself into her narrative. He was being respectful of what she wanted—of her personal space.
“It’s going to be dangerous,” she said after a pause, fully aware that she was stating the obvious.
Carlos raised both his brows. “More dangerous than a city full of undead and other fucked up abominations, one of which was damn near impossible to kill while hell-bent on hunting you down?”
“Potentially, yes.” Jill widened her eyes slightly for emphasis as she gave a nod. “That could just be scratching the surface of what else we could be getting ourselves into.”
Carlos made a soft noise as he considered this, rubbing at his beard absently in thought. “Well, we just went through hell and back; what’s another round-trip to us veterans?”
Jill, having also experienced the horrors of Spencer Mansion just a few months prior, thought Carlos may still not be quite as seasoned when it came to surviving the undead, but that would be a story for another time. She leaned forward against the table, searching his face for any traces of doubt or hesitance. Jill would never hold it against him if he decided to opt out. It wasn’t really his fight—it didn’t have to be, at least. If she had the choice to put this all behind her and try to return to a life of normalcy… Well, there was no point in dwelling on that when it wasn’t an option for her to begin with. Not with Umbrella still out there.
“I’ve got your back, Jill.” There was no smile on Carlos’s face as he spoke in light of Jill’s persistent silence, only a solemn expression of determination.
Jill folded her arms across the table, holding his stare before allowing the corner of her mouth to curl up as she extended her hand. “And I’ve got yours, partner.”
Carlos’s smile reached the warmth of his brown eyes as he clasped her hand, as though they were finalizing the start of their official partnership after getting a taste of it when surviving the city together. “Umbrella won’t know what hit ‘em.”
“No, they won’t.” Jill’s smile remained after they finished shaking on it, but her voice held firm and steady with no room for doubt. Umbrella would pay for all that they’d done—she would make sure of that—but for now… Jill would allow herself some respite from the unending thoughts and speculations and what-ifs that had plagued her since the two of them had made their escape. Her mind had buzzed endlessly with what came next: her next move in the grand scheme of things, who all she needed to get into contact with, where she needed to go, the possibility of saying goodbye to Carlos…
Only one of those no longer required her attention, but as for the rest, Jill decided she would save it for the next day. Tomorrow could be the migraine-inducing day of getting shit in order and figuring out the logistics of it all—a problem for future Jill to worry about. Presently, she just wanted to enjoy the moment of peace she was having with Carlos.
Once they would be in the thick of it all, Jill didn’t know the next time they would get a moment like this to just exist. No zombies, no B.O.W.’s, no evil corporations to overthrow… Just two people reveling in the comfort and ease of each other’s company.