Chapter Text
Wesker stayed late at his office in the Raccoon City Police Station on Thursday nights, finishing up all of the excess paperwork that hadn't made it into his roster earlier in the week. It was on these evenings that his desk was more chaotic than ever, filled with half-finished analyses and detailed plans of action stacked haphazardly into a few piles. Some of the papers bore his signature of approval, defined by its simple elegance, while others simply had comments written in their margins or even the occasional scribbling on his personal notes. He sipped on hot black tea through a silver metal thermos as he worked, his mind indifferent to the caffeine thanks to all the coffee he drank in the mornings.
While his own workload may have been more chaotic than usual on Thursday evenings, the office was quite the opposite. It was nearly silent, with almost no members of the team wanting to work overtime after a long day on the job. There was no hustle and bustle, no bodies trying to get where they were going, no papers shuffling aside from his own, no distractions - just a skeleton crew confined to their own offices in case of emergencies, with the rest of the teams out on special missions. Some might have called the huge, mostly empty office eerie in the absence of its usual inhabitants, but Wesker enjoyed this time to himself. He could use the space to work on his own projects, as well as knock out some of the busy work that his facade involved.
Rarely did anyone disturb him during this time, save for the building’s janitors, who’d occasionally find their way into his space until he politely told them to fuck off until he was finally out the door. Today, his peace was shattered by the sound of his door suddenly creaking open. Sigh. Wesker parted his lips to start to remind the cleaners that he stayed late one night a week, so they’d have to come later - but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the figure in his doorway was not who he had expected, but his subordinate, Chris Redfield.
Chris?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as he averted his eyes from his papers, peering over them. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you have left an hour ago?”
Still in his work clothes, Chris appeared absolutely exhausted, yet somehow still looked as though he'd be fine taking on anything that could come his way. Wesker hated that look of jaded determination as much as he loved it; he saw himself in Chris’ hell-bent attitude toward life, even if they were different in nearly every other way. Chris kept his eyes on Wesker, leaning against the doorway.
“Mission ran a little late, Captain - I figured you'd know? I was just gonna drop off my things and head out, but I saw your car outside, so I got curious about what you were doing here this late," he responded, sighing as he spoke. "Guess I found out, and the answer is… work. Awesome.”
“What did you expect me to be doing here?” His captain replied, lowering his papers to cup his head in his hand as he continued to speak, pursing his lips in annoyance. “Petting puppies? Reading my favorite novel? Drinking my sorrows away, like you tend to do?”
“All of the above, but I guess you’re not as fun as I thought,” Chris teased back. “That’s a real shame, Captain. Speaking of home, you should probably be going there pretty soon, don’tcha think?” Wesker’s comments probably would’ve pissed Chris off had they come from anyone else’s mouth, but he had developed a familiarity with his captain that was defined by their banter and mutual snarky comments. They both pretended to hate it, but they both couldn’t live without it. Besides, Chris knew Wesker didn’t mean a word he said when it came to him.
“I’m fine where I am, thank you,” Wesker snapped back. As he spoke, he crossed his arms, squinted his eyes beneath his dark sunglasses, and leaned back in his chair. The captain’s focus on his work had dissipated, with his attention now turned to Chris. How frustrating that this is how things always tended to turn out; his subordinate seemed to weasel his way into every situation, the little angel on his shoulder shouting, “Take care of yourself! Don’t push yourself! Don’t work too late! Make sure you stay safe!” Chris never said it exactly like that, but Wesker could always tell what he meant when he did things like this, pushing him to head home early and relax.
Perhaps that would’ve been nice to hear if taking care of himself, not pushing himself, not working too late, and staying safe were options for him. But in Wesker’s line of work, taking “good care” of himself did nothing but impede his goals. Making progress required taking risks, and doing things never done before. Spending his free time kicking back with cucumbers over his eyes in a hot sauna didn‘t exactly align with all that he hoped to accomplish. Of course, Chris didn’t know any of what he had set out to do. Despite their perceived closeness, Chris only knew a shell of who Wesker really was, a puppet of the captain’s own design. Something about this interaction they were having right now made Wesker quite sad, but he couldn’t place it. He certainly didn’t show it, either.
“You say that you’re fine, but I’m convinced you’re going blind staring at that paperwork all day,” Chris taunted. “Is that why you wear those sunglasses inside all the time? Even now? It’s dark outside. You should go out there and check it out.”
Wesker sighed as the other refused to let up. It was clear that no work was getting done tonight, regardless of what Wesker had hoped. He rarely gave Chris his way, but with the sun setting soon and Chris having already wasted so much of his time, and this conversation with no end in sight…
“Fine.”
“Fine?” Chris laughed in surprise. “Guess you’re not the only one who can give orders around here, Captain.”
“Don’t push it, or I’ll get started on these,” the other teased back, gesturing to a tall stack of paperwork still sitting untouched on the corner of his desk. It never ended, which was simultaneously the reason Wesker was still here at this hour, and the reason Chris insisted that he needed a break.
“Oh, shit, that’s the worst way you could’ve threatened me. Aside from saying you’d make me do them.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to do that.”
Wesker rolled his eyes at Chris’ comment as he spoke and quickly signed off on one of the scattered papers in front of him, finishing up the remnants of his more urgent pieces of work. He raised his eyebrows at Chris as he leaned over his desk, as if to ask, “Why haven’t you left yet?”
Chris crossed his arms and leaned on the doorway, his pose silently responding, “I’m obviously going to walk you out, after all the convincing that took.”
Wesker shoved the remaining pieces of paper, along with his pen and a few other assorted items, into his desk as he prepared to make his way out for the day. Taking a sip from his thermos, he stood up from his desk, pushing his large rolling chair underneath it. Finally he threw on his jacket, and turned to leave.
“I bet you’re tired, Wesker,” Chris said as the other man followed him out of the room and into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Suddenly, now that they were both off the clock, he was “Wesker.” Not “Captain.” While their previous conversation was rife with snide comments and jokes at one another’s expense, Chris now abruptly took on a more serious, almost somber tone. It was now that his intentions were really coming to light - that he cared about his captain, noticed when he was down and out after working much more than usual.
There he was, that angel on Wesker’s shoulder again. Too bad he had no interest in entertaining that persistent, obnoxious little voice, and no interest in confessing his sins. He was a long ways from heaven and didn’t plan on getting any closer tonight.
“I’m not a child,” he spat back, hoping that would cut the conversation short. Please, no more questions about how he felt.
“Didn’t know that only babies get tired,” Chris said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Last I checked, you’re a human being, so you’ve got feelings.” A pause and a soft laugh. “Somewhere in there.”
Wesker shook his head in annoyance. “Human? Unlikely,” he joked with irony, still expertly avoiding showing an ounce of vulnerability to his colleague. Some would’ve found the facade exhausting, but for him, it had become second nature.
“Ah, Wesker, I can’t get anything out of you.”
“Get anything ‘out of me?’ What exactly do you need from me?”
They walked through the hallways side-by-side now, ceiling lights casting a faint glow throughout the building.
“I need you to take a break, Wesker,” Chris responded curtly, the concern in his voice evident. “You can’t keep pushin’ yourself like this.”
“Chris, this is-”
“I’m serious. I’m worried about you,” he said, finally spitting out the reason he was here this evening.
“You have no reason to be,” Wesker told him. “I’m fine.”
Outside, night had already claimed its dominion, darkness bathing the parking lot as a few stars lit the sky. Only five cars remained in the private lot, one each belonging to Chris and Wesker. A duo of faded streetlights attempted to illuminate the area, but did a poor job of doing so.
"You won't be if you keep this up," Chris warned, still concerned but knowing he couldn't get Wesker to budge this easily. Silence.
Chris turned his back to Wesker as he made his way toward his own vehicle, sighing in defeat. He may have won the battle of getting his captain to avoid working even later today, but he was losing the war.
"Just stay safe, okay? We can work on this tog-"
"Will do, Chris," Wesker said emptily, pulling at the handle of his own car door as he approached his vehicle. He parked just a few spots over from Chris', in his own assigned spot.
"I'll see you tomorrow." A final shout from Chris, but Wesker had already pulled the door shut and disappeared behind the dark tint of his windows.
Chris made his way into his own driver's seat and practically collapsed into it, leaning his weary head against the head rest. He closed his eyes for a moment as he listened to the rev of Wesker's car engine, sighing with determination.
He was going to win this damned war against Wesker's workaholic attitude if it killed him. If he didn't, he was pretty convinced it'd end up killing Wesker instead.