Work Text:
2002
Chris stood up and did one final check of their equipment as the helicopter he and his team were traveling in started to make its descent. According to his intel, it was supposedly a straightforward assignment; sneak into the lab of a new pharmaceutical company that was suspected of distributing bio-weapons, confirm their suspicions, and get out. He went over the details of the mission with his team one more time, taking care to review their roles and the rendezvous point until he was sure everyone was on the same page. He lit a cigarette when he got off the helicopter, no longer naive enough to believe that any mission involving bio-weapons would be straightforward.
____
Wesker ducked behind a corner and waited for two guards to pass him before ending their lives quickly and disposing of their bodies in a nearby closet. Bored of the behind the scenes work he usually did, he had recently taken up some mercenary work. He had been sneaking around the lab for the better part of three hours, remaining seemingly undetected as he jammed security feeds and collected the various reports and data his current employer requested of him. The mission he was given was going smoothly so far, though he admitted to himself that he had hoped it would be more of a challenge. It had been a while since he could test his abilities in live combat, and had been looking forward to getting his hands dirty.
As he finished his last data transfer, he heard gunshots ringing from outside the room and saw multiple groups of guards heading down the hallway away from him. He smiled to himself, as he placed the last flash drive in his pocket. His assignment was done and he was looking forward to getting in on whatever chaos was currently unfolding.
____
Chris covered his team as they scrambled down the hallway. One of the younger men had missed a shot and the bullet had caused a Licker enclosure to burst open. Now in pursuit by both angry guards and B.O.W’s Chris and his team ran into an open room and made an attempt to barricade the door. Chris corralled his team into the back corner of the room, looking to regroup. The men cleared off a table, opening up the map they had brought with them to determine their current location. The exit point was not far from the room they were in and Chris started to rattle off several commands to his men, hopeful that with his instruction they would all be able to make it out. As the men took stock of their supplies, one of Chris’ men was about to have his injuries evaluated as a Licker burst through an observation window. The men on Chris’ team backed away in fear, none of them had encountered a B.O.W before and they froze as it approached them.
“Hey! HEY! Over here!” Chris screamed loudly, jumping up and down as he waved his arms. The Licker turned towards him and began to charge. Chris turned to run, trying to lead it away, but it slammed him against a wall before he could make it too far. He heard a soft crunch as his radio crumpled. Getting to his feet, he shot at it a few times before grabbing a flash bang from his belt and tossing it in the Licker’s direction. It lunged at him, a claw grazing the back of his belt before it recoiled from the light of the flash bang. In all the commotion, Chris glanced back to see his men scuffling out of the room through a second exit. Seeing that they were safe for now, Chris turned and hopped out of the broken window. When he landed on the other side, he heard gunfire coming from his left as several of the guards tried to hold back the other Lickers coming his way. Turning to his right, a security shutter closed off the path at the end of the hallway. Thankful that his team was on the other side of it, and now hearing the low growls coming from the room he was just in, Chris entered a nearby stairwell to take cover. He made his way down a couple floors before he caught his breath. Sneaking out into a new maze of hallways, he found the nearest room and entered it to plan his escape.
____
Wesker tossed a guard in the air and watched several others fall over like bowling pins as the limp body slammed into them. He smiled, dodging several bullets with ease as he took out more men. He took turns breaking guns and breaking bodies as he made his way down the hall, taking out guards with ease. As he approached the intersection where more gunfire was erupting, three guards came running past him, totally ignoring him as they scrambled down the hallway. Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at them briefly before a Licker jumped down from the ceiling and knocked him to the ground, sending his glasses to the floor. The Licker lunged at him, and Wesker cringed as he heard an audible crunch as it jumped on top of him. The Licker’s claw that wasn’t currently pinning him down had landed on top of his sunglasses, shattering them.
He sighed in frustration, and just as he was about to put his fist through its skull, a strange looking bullet hit it in the shoulder. Wesker observed that it looked like a cross between a bullet and a blow dart briefly before the Licker screamed, jumping off of him in pain. Wesker stood up quickly, observing the Licker’s reaction as blood poured from its now smoking wound. It scratched at the bullet, but it was lodged so deeply in its skin that it was unable to remove it. It started to sway back and forth as it coughed and sputtered, screaming, before collapsing on the floor.
Wesker glanced down the hallway, now noticing a swarm of researchers standing amongst the group of guards. They carried cameras and clipboards and as soon as Wesker saw one of them hand another one of the strange looking bullets to one of the guards and point in his direction, he felt it. He hadn't heard it coming, nor did he even feel it hit him at first until his arm had brushed up against the strange dart-like end of the bullet. He had been hit with bullets before, they rarely caused him any problems. However, at this moment he felt like his stomach was on fire and snarled as a wave of nausea overtook him. He tried to pull it out, but the end broke off and he could feel the rest of it burning the skin around the entry point. He managed to dodge a second hit, taking off down the hallway and towards the nearest control room.
____
Wesker shook his head angrily, faced with the reality that he was running out of options, he scowled. His health was quickly declining and he needed a solution fast. He scanned through the monitors in the control room, searching for a place where he could recover for a while and not be bothered. He rubbed his eyes hard, his vision was going in and out of focus as the wound on his stomach continued to gush steadily with blood.
In his search, he watched as several men in military-like uniforms panic as a Licker entered the room they were in. He found the energy to smirk, coming across something unexpected on the security feed. A familiar face, who he recognized as Chris Redfield had successfully lured the Licker away from the other men. Wesker shrugged, “I could always count on my pointman.” he said, using the commands on the computer to lower the security shutter at the end of the hall. He clutched his stomach, watching Chris take off down the stairs and enter a room that was displayed as ‘Lab 16’ on the monitor.
He scrolled through the commands on the screen before cutting the security feed to Lab 16 and its surrounding hallways. He didn’t want to give the researchers at the lab any more combat data on the effects the bullets had on him. Besides, it would be nice to have some privacy while reuniting with his ex-subordinate. He plugged in a flash drive from his pants pocket which contained several override codes that gave him full control of the security system. Typing in a few more commands, he set the security shutters to close in certain corridors, giving him a clear path to the lab Chris was in. He quickly switched back to the first floor feed and followed along as Chris’ team blew open a wall of the lab, attempting to make their way to freedom. “Good.” he thought to himself, “No interruptions.” Before logging out, he randomly selected some B.O.W enclosures to open on the upper floors to keep the guards busy for a few hours.
He took a deep breath before exiting the room, trying to stand as upright as he could. He felt his teeth smash together as another wave of pain cursed through his stomach. Clenching his fists, he took off towards the lab.
____
Chris stared at the broken communication transmitter in his hand and frowned. Figuring he would have to find his own way out, he began to rummage around the desks in hopes of finding some sort of map, now disoriented from the events upstairs. He flinched when he heard the beeping of an access code in the hallway.
As the door swung open, and Chris ducked behind a lab table, gun in hand. He couldn’t see the person who entered the room, and just as he was about to peek around the corner, a familiar voice stopped him.
“Hello, Chris.”
Chris blinked twice before gritting his teeth and jumping up from behind the desk “Wesker??” He held out his gun, ready to defend himself.
Wesker ignored him, moving to pull an enormous cabinet off the wall with ease before placing it in front of the door.
“Hey! W-what are you doing?” Chris asked.
“I don’t want any interruptions.” Wesker said firmly, walking over to a desk opposite from where Chris was standing, before taking a seat on the floor.
“What are you talking about? I don’t want to be in here with you!” Chris shouted, taking another step towards Wesker who had not answered him. He was about to continue until he saw the beads of sweat cascading down the older man’s face. He looked pale, but not in his usual way, his skin almost looked gray. Chris felt his eyes widen as Wesker convulsed, grabbing onto the small trash bin under the desk before throwing up into it.
Chris furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side. This weakened version of the tyrant in front of him was strangely reminiscent of his old S.T.A.R.S Captain. He almost let the words ‘are you alright?’ fall out of his mouth before correcting himself, “What’s wrong with you?” He attempted to hiss.
Chris looked away, momentarily scolding himself for the concern that clearly could be heard in his voice. He had not seen Wesker since Rockfort Island, and aside from his strange colored eyes, he looked like he had not aged a day since the Spencer Mansion. He had no idea why Wesker was here, or why he had barricaded the both of them into this lab, but he couldn’t quiet his curiosity. Chris lowered his gun, reasoning that if Wesker had been there to kill him, that he would have done it already; or at least tossed him across the room a couple times if he was looking for a fight.
Wesker wiped his mouth on his sleeve, face wincing in disgust, and turned his head to look at Chris. “I’ve been hit by some sort of new anti-BOW round they are testing.”
Chris’ eyes trailed down to Wesker’s arm which was tightly pressed against his stomach, his forearm was bare and Chris was now noticing that it was covered in blood. Wesker was about to speak when Chris interrupted curiously, “Is it going to kill you?”
Wesker shook his head “One bullet? No. Surely not enough to take me down. My virus will create a resistance to it and it will soon be useless against me. However, it will have to run its course.”
Chris pouted, crossing his arms and cocking his hip to the side, “Well, I don’t care.” Wesker rolled his eyes as Chris continued, “I don’t know why you locked me in here with you, I’m not going to help you. I need to find my team and if anything, I’m going to drag you out of here and right into federal custody where you belong.” Chris spat angrily.
The silence in the room was broken by Wesker laughing. He paused, clutching his stomach and coughing a few times before continuing “How cute. And how do you plan on carrying out that plan? Because, Chris, without me you have no chance of getting out of here.”
Wesker’s monologue was interrupted as he bent over and began hurling what was left in his stomach into the trash bin. He looked exhausted, but continued “I guess I should commend you, your little stunt upstairs did allow your team to blast their way out of the lab. However, do you know how many guards are currently combing these halls? How many B.O.W’s are rampaging throughout the upper levels? Even someone with your skill isn’t getting out of here in one piece with a half a magazine of bullets.”
Chris cringed. He wasn’t sure how Wesker knew how bad his current situation was, but he was unfortunately right. He had lost his combat belt in the scuffle with the Licker, it sliced his belt right off him when he dropped the flash bang. He was low on ammo and with no way to contact his team, and if they had escaped the facility, they were definitely heading for the meet up point to call for backup. Having a tyrant bulldoze a path to freedom would be his best chance for survival.
“I’m going to need you to remove the bullet.” Wesker said hoarsely. Chris didn’t respond. “My vision is going in and out and the healing process cannot start until the bullet is removed. So if you would like to get out of here, I suggest you assist me.”
Judging by the conflicted look on Chris’ face, Wesker knew he had bought into his reasoning. If there was one thing about Chris that Wesker was confident about, it was that his sense of justice was always complimented by his need to help others. What Chris didn’t know was that Wesker really had no idea what the side effects of the bullet were going to be. Wesker was confident he would be able to build up an immunity fairly quickly, but he recognized that he wasn't going to be able to get it out himself and if it wasn’t removed soon, he was likely going to pass out and probably wake up in a much worse condition.
Even in a sitting position, Wesker was swaying back and forth, and Chris watched him alternating between blinking hard and squinting his eyes. The usual strange burning red color that Chris had seen before had dulled significantly, replaced by a soft pale pink glow.
Chris huffed, saying nothing as he walked over to the safety closet in the lab and pulled out all the first aid supplies he could find. He regretted that despite everything that had unfolded between them, he was so willing to help this man. Chris wondered how much of his Captain was left in Wesker post-mutation, and without many other options and the pure curiosity of the situation, he got to work. As Wesker heard the supplies being laid out on the table, he smiled to himself, betting on Chris was an easy win.
“You think you can get up onto this table?” Chris asked.
He watched Wesker consider his question. Chris couldn’t care less about Wesker’s pride and it amused him to watch the older man wrestle with the question. His entertainment was cut short however, as he pushed down a pang of regret, almost wishing he had just offered Wesker a hand instead of the sad display that played out in front of him. Wesker grunted several times, wincing in pain as he struggled to get to his feet. He was unstable to say the least and Chris could hear the wood of the desk crunch under the grip he had on it to keep himself upright. He squinted in the direction of the table and Chris looked on as a puzzled expression grew across his face.
Chris took a few steps forward, coming to the conclusion that his stubborn ex-captain would most likely rather die right there on the spot than admit he couldn't see the table that was about five feet in front of him.
“Ok, ok, hey. The desk is fine too.” Chris said, guiding Wesker by the hips to turn around so he could sit on the desk.
Wesker remained silent, he was using every ounce of his energy to stay both conscious and quiet, as the bullet in his abdomen continued to burn. As Chris walked away to grab the supplies from the other table, he fell backwards on top of the desk with a loud thud. “Easy!” Chris shouted, rushing back over to the desk. “I don't think you need to add concussion to your list of problems right now.”
Chris got to work as fast as he could, he thought of Rebecca as he snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and sterilized the area around the wound. He wondered what she would do if she were here. “You want to hold on to something?” Chris asked, medical tweezers in hand. “It looks like it's in there pretty good, I am going to have to dig it out…It's going to hurt.”
“Just fucking do it Chris, stop screwing around.” Wesker hissed. He started coughing from the exertion and Chris’ eyes widened when he saw the blood trickling down the side of his mouth.
Chris held Wesker down with one hand as he inserted the tweezers into the wound. Wesker’s hips bucked and he started thrashing as small whines of pain came from his chest. “Would you stop being so dramatic? I’m never going to get it out if you keep moving around.” Chris said, ignoring the annoyed scoff he got in response. Wesker dug his fingernails into the desk, the varnish splintering under his clawing, he stilled.
Finally locating the bullet, Chris gripped it with the tweezers and pulled it out fast. Wesker yelped and they both stared wide eyed at the bullet that was now smoking from eating away at the remaining flesh left on it. “Got ya.” Chris smiled triumphantly as Wesker moaned softly in discomfort.
“Alright cry-baby, let's get you patched up.” Chris teased, holding up a roll of gauze.
____
When Chris was finished applying the bandages, Wesker returned to his previous spot on the floor and immediately started shaking. Pulling his legs into his chest tightly, he shivered as sweat beaded on his forehead.
Chris looked over to the desk and saw a lab coat hanging on the wall. He grabbed it and shook it out in front of Wesker. “Scoot forward a bit.” Chris nudged him with his foot, it looked like Wesker was using all his energy to resist the urge to let his teeth chatter from the cold he apparently felt. He moved slightly, allowing Chris to wrap the lab coat around him.
Chris sighed, looking down at Wesker whose usually perfectly slicked back hair had started to fall in front of his face, sweat quickly breaking down the last traces of gel in his hair.
Chris sat down next to him, he himself had always run hot and once Wesker sensed the heat radiating from his body, he instinctively leaned against Chris’ shoulder. Chris felt his body stiffen from the contact as a pang of guilt hit his stomach. He wondered what Jill, Barry, or Rebecca would think of him, sitting here in this lab, with the man who had betrayed his entire team slumped against his shoulder. There was something about it that felt so wrong, but for Chris, the anger and resentment that should have been there, just didn’t exist. He wrestled with the thoughts swirling around in his mind before he shrugged silently to himself, leaning back against the wall to make himself more comfortable. He was in a tough situation, and unfortunately teaming up with his ex-captain was his best chance for survival. He wondered just how much of his captain really remained after his transformation, perhaps now was a good time to see if he could figure it out.
Chris smirked, breaking the silence between them “Remember that time I ate that gas station hot dog before that drug raid?”
Wesker stilled his teeth that had begun to chatter and frowned. “Yes, you were sick all night. We spent the evening in the RPD locker room, and you fell asleep underneath the toilet if I recall.”
Chris smiled, “Only because you used every towel in the precinct showers to make me a cocoon to sleep in.”
“That’s what this reminds me of.” Chris laughed as Wesker raised an eyebrow at him questioningly “You look like shit, just like I did after puking my guts out all night.”
Wesker shifted, “Yes well, you had, and probably still have one of the worst diets I have ever witnessed.”
Ignoring the soft chuckle of agreement from the younger man, Wesker inched closer to him. He paused briefly, glaring quickly at the sheathed combat knife on Chris’ shoulder. He wondered if Chris was planning to wait for him to drop his guard before trying to finish off the job that the bullet had started. He considered ripping the knife from his shoulder and breaking it, but could barely find the strength to lift his arms. Suddenly, Chris shifted and Wesker flinched. Relaxing only when he saw the younger man pawing at his pants pocket and not moving to unsheath the knife.
Chris pulled out a flattened granola bar from the pocket of his tactical pants. “Are you hungry?” He asked. Wesker looked at him with surprise for a moment before glancing away. He cleared his throat, taken aback by the kind gesture. “No, thankfully I don’t require food as regularly as humans do. Would be better for you to keep your strength up. Besides, I don’t think I am at a point where I can keep anything down.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t come complaining to me if your next symptom is hunger.” Chris unwrapped the granola bar, taking a bite. Wesker looked up at him curiously, as he considered the familiarity of Chris’ actions. After thinking on it for a moment, there wasn't a stake out, mission, or even a ride in the squad car that he could remember where Chris wasn’t trying to offer him some form of nourishment. The younger man always carried extra snacks on him and Wesker had lost track of the times that he had denied his pointman’s offer of peanuts, candy, chips, or whatever other gas station foods he could fit in his tactical vest. He scoffed to himself, the endearing memory quickly interrupted as a cold chill overtook him.
Wesker started to shiver again, and Chris offered him a dry cloth to wipe away the sweat off his forehead. “Your hair is a mess by the way…thought you would want to know.” Wesker shrugged, looking away before raking his fingers back through his blonde hair.
“Do you sleep?” Chris asked, curiously. “Excuse me?” Wesker scowled at him. “I don't know, I haven't seen you since Rockfort Island, do you need sleep or is it some kind of ‘humans only’ thing?’ Chris mocked.
“Don't be a fool, Chris, of course I need sleep.”
“Well then stop being a stubborn asshole, and lay down.” Chris chastised, patting his thigh.
Wesker’s eyes hung heavy, the offer of sleep too attractive to pass up. He moved slowly to avoid making any audible groans of pain and carefully lowered his arm down before resting his head on Chris’ leg. Silence fell upon them again and Chris looked down sadly at the mess of blonde hair on his thigh. As the silence continued, Chris started questioning himself. Why was it so easy for him to fall right back into where they were before the Spencer mansion? He was finding it increasingly difficult to drum up any adverse feelings towards his ex-captain the longer he spent with him. Chris reached for it desperately, but it just didn’t come. A very different emotion did however come to the surface.
“You stayed with me the whole night.” Chris said softly.
“What?” Wesker asked, feigning curiosity even though he knew exactly what Chris was talking about.
“When I was sick at the RPD. You wouldn't shut up about ‘proper nutrition’ and taking better care of myself, but you stayed the whole night. I fell asleep next to the toilet, but you took care of me just like this all night.”
Chris trailed off quietly. It was one of his favorite memories and he would have gladly eaten any number of questionable gas station hot dogs to get that time back with his former Captain, no, his former friend. He rested his hand on Wesker’s back, rubbing his hand up and down gently, imitating the action he remembered feeling on his own back some years ago.
Wesker’s ragged breathing slowed almost immediately and he was asleep within minutes.
____
Chris woke up a few hours later to the sound of a gun slide being pulled back.
“Still a heavy sleeper I see.” Wesker said, glancing in his direction. He was standing now and had several magazines and various supplies laid out on the desk. The color had returned to his face, and he had removed the bandage from his waist. Chris noticed his skin was now smooth where the wound from the bullet had once been.
“Are you feeling better?” Chris asked, as he quickly got onto his feet.
Wesker nodded, before handing Chris a full magazine. “I’m feeling nostalgic, feel like running point for old times sake? It is time we took our leave.”
____
Chris and Wesker made their way through several levels of the labs before they had heard the gunfire. The guards for the pharmaceutical company were in a standoff with three Hunters and were losing men fast. Chris motioned to Wesker behind him, his old hand signals remaining unchanged from the ones his former Captain had taught him.
Wesker smiled deviously before taking off ahead, Chris now covering them as he watched Wesker snap the necks of two Hunters with his incredibly fast speed. Chris took out a few of the guards, allowing the last Hunter to take care of the remaining men before Wesker put his fist through its chest. With the hallway clear, they resumed formation and continued on.
Climbing up several floors and taking out a number of guards and strange looking prototype B.O.W’s along the way, Chris and Wesker worked together smoothly. Even with Wesker’s enhanced abilities, they silently coordinated assaults on their enemies, reminiscent of their old S.T.A.R.S tactics.
When they had reached the top of the stairwell they were climbing, Wesker stopped Chris. “There are two main means of egress out of the lab, and a third emergency exit through the back hallway.” There was a small map on the wall Wesker pointed to. “I will make enough of a ruckus to cause a distraction while you take the emergency exit.” Wesker said, reloading his gun.
“You want to split up now?” Chris asked, a slight trace of disappointment in his question.
“Well, you have two options. I could kill you in cold blood right here, or, in exchange for your assistance today, you can make your way out of here safely while I erase several hours of incriminating video surveillance showing you working alongside a wanted bio-terrorist.”
Chris furrowed his eyebrows before glancing down at the floor. His stomach turned and he choked back a whole mess of words he just could not bring himself to say. He looked back up at Wesker, half hoping that some third option was going to manifest itself the longer he took to respond.
Wesker disregarded the fact that Chris was looking at him like a wounded animal and continued, “Besides, it wasn't a part of my original mission, but after seeing the quality of the weapons they are creating here, I would like nothing more than to set this cheap knock off lab ablaze. I believe that will exceed the expectations of both of our mission objectives?”
Chris laughed, forcing himself to accept the reality that whatever this little fantasy the two of them had been playing out had to come to an end. He opened the door to the corridor, checking their angles one last time. “Heh, sounding pretty noble over there Wesker. Don’t want to spoil your reputation by helping the good guys for once.”
Chris looked over to him after confirming all paths were clear, a twinge of sadness in his eyes that he could not hide as he gazed over to Wesker.
Wesker took a few steps towards the opposite corridor from Chris, turning to take one last look at his former subordinate. He had felt a lot of things over the past few hours, but regret was one he didn’t expect to feel. He brushed it off. As entertaining as it had been, he could not dwell on the past, nor could he waste any more of his time considering what might have once been.
Wesker took a step forward and reached his hand out to Chris, offering him another magazine for his once again close to empty gun. Chris looked down at it, their fingers brushing against each other slightly as he took it into his hand, staring up into the glowing red eyes before him.
Chris held his breath for a moment, Wesker’s own breath warm in his ear as he spoke into it.
“Farewell Chris, I’m sure our paths will cross again.” he said quietly, and with that Chris saw him disappear into a flash of black down the hallway.