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Working as for the BSAA, it’s an open secret that Albert Wesker was once Chris’s captain. Agents see the way Chris’s lips twitch downward, eyes narrowing at the mere mention of the man, and tell themselves there must have been dislike between them stemming all the way back to their STARS days. To them, it just makes sense; natural distaste blossoming into betrayal and hatred as easily as a willow bending in the wind. They see Chris chase Wesker to the ends of the Earth; see him stay up long into the night poring over report after report for a scattered trace of the man. In mind, in body, in actions, the man is as terrible an abomination as the monsters they fight.
And who could ever like, much less love, a monster?
Chris can count on one hand the number of people still alive who know exactly how close they were. Back in STARS, Albert Wesker meant the world to him. What started as simple professional respect grew and grew and grew , relationship flowering like a rose in spring. His captain, his lover , showered him with attention, and Chris soaked it up, never even noticing the unseen strings pulling Wesker along like a puppet. Chris saw the way Wesker’s eyes lit up when he smiled, the look of pride on his face every time his ‘best man’ finally managed to outshoot him. He never noticed the bitter tinge to Wesker’s rare smiles, the occasional darkness in the man’s eyes as he looked at Chris. In the end, the Mansion Incident was a wakeup call for them both.
Chris mentions that Wesker still calls him his best man, and even Jill assumes Wesker’s mocking him, pointing a smug finger back at the brief time in their lives when Chris called Wesker “Captain”. She doesn't see the twist of Wesker’s smile as he says it, the quirk of his brow, the million little tells that only Chris remembers. He knows in his bones that Wesker’s completely serious and pretends that doesn’t make his heart squeeze .
An old quote always bubbles up in his mind whenever he thinks of Wesker.
‘When does a monster cease to be a monster?’
‘When you love it.’
All these years later, Chris can still feel the imprint of phantom fingerprints around his hips, the taste of the man on his tongue, the sight of the man as he smiled, blue eyes crinkling. Even now, the hole the man left aches. It’s a wound in him that’s never scarred over. And how can it, really, when it opens back up, bleeding, every time Wesker saunters back into his life?
As long as both of them are still breathing, Chris knows this is the way it’ll always be. With every new knife in the back, their hatred smolders between them like coals, constantly threatening to reignite and burn them both. There’s something in Chris that still loves Wesker even after everything. But he knows one of them is going to end up dead in the end.
Sometimes, Chris even hopes it’s Wesker.
Seeing Wesker again after all these years is like a million little scars sprouting up along Chris’s skin to sing in agonizing unison.
Wesker’s fingers dig into his shirt, hauling him up by the collar in a choking grip.
‘I loved you,’ Chris’s body says with every fruitless struggle.
‘I thought the world of you,’ it cries with every muffled curse.
Wesker’s hand is pulling back, and Chris knows this is it. It seemed inevitable that one of them would get tired of this game eventually. Chris supposes it’s fitting, then, that the one who started it should also be the one to end it.
“Let’s finish this,” Wesker says with a smirk, as if all of this is nothing to him, merely another stepping stone up the mountain of his ambition.
Chris sees the hollowness that bleeds through, cracks in the facade like chips of paint flaking off an old wall. He feels the shake in Wesker’s hand at his throat, the way his eyes twist behind those damn glasses. Chris wants to scream at him, cry, call him a coward. Even now, at the end, Wesker’s still lying to himself.
‘Go ahead!’ something in Chris cries, angry and aching. ‘Beat me, kill me, make yourself feel better!’
Another pulsing ache radiates out from the iron grip around his throat.
‘But don’t you, for a second ,’ Chris thinks, telling himself the wetness stinging at the corners of his eyes is from anger, ‘pretend I never meant anything to you!’
Fury licks at him, and his hands shoot up to claw at Wesker, fingernails digging into the hot flesh of the man’s uncovered wrists. Underneath him, his legs flail, attempting to kick out at the man holding him. A tear drips down Chris’s face, and Wesker freezes for a second, hesitating. Then, Jill tackles Wesker, and the world suddenly explodes into shards of glass.
Chris stretches out over the gaping hole of a window, watching his partner and his nemesis fall and fall and fall . World collapsing into broken pieces around him, Chris tells himself that Jill’s the only reason why he’s screaming. He knows he’s lying, and pretends it doesn’t make him just as in denial as Wesker.
Because the truth is… Chris Redfield loves Albert Wesker.
And it’s the one thing he can never forgive himself for.