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Jill trotted down the hallway leading to the West office of the Raccoon City Police Department, smiling down at her watch after checking the time to confirm she wouldn’t be late despite stopping on her way to work. Plopping her backpack down on her desk, she flashed Chris a quick smile before retrieving a small brown paper bag from inside it. Pulling out the white parchment paper-covered bagel sandwich from the bag, she carefully unfolded it and loosened one of the two halves free.
“Here ya’ go, still nice and warm,” she said, handing Chris the steaming half of a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwich.
Pausing, Chris awkwardly shook his head, avoiding Jill’s stare as he fumbled with an empty coffee cup from the previous day on his desk. “Oh, no thanks, Jill. I’m not hungry this morning.”
Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Jill observed the dark circles under her partner’s eyes, highlighted by his unusually pale complexion. Knowing better than to push the subject, Jill carefully lowered herself back down into her chair before scoffing slightly. “Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when you're starving later today, " she said as Chris shrugged her off, unwilling to participate in their usual morning banter.
~
“Ah-Ah-ACHOO,” Chris sneezed loudly, sniffling a little before turning his attention back to the filing cabinet he was flipping through. Cringing against the silence that fell over the room, Chris dared to peek his head up, wincing when he made eye contact with Forest, who huffed at him in annoyance.
“Jesus, Redfield, that’s like the tenth time this morning you've sneezed; what’s the matter with you?” Forest chided, floating a paper airplane through the air until it hit Chris in the arm and fell to the ground.
“Must be the dust from this stupid cabinet,” Chris said, shoving the drawer closed as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to soothe the aching pain growing behind his eyelids. “Gotta be allergies or sumthin,” he continued, stepping back from the filing cabinet as Jill placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Wesker has you rifling through this cabinet almost every day, and suddenly you're allergic?” She said, stepping back to fold her arms and kick out her hip in suspicion.
“Yeah, w-well, look at this thing, it's fucking gross! Covered in dust like the rest of the shit in this old museum. I’m going to put in a work order to have it cleaned.” Chris said with determination, gesturing to the cabinet in frustration before storming out of the office and into the hallway.
Making his way to stand next to Jill, Forest raised an eyebrow before reaching down to retrieve his paper airplane, “What’s up his ass today?”.
Before Jill could respond, the pair were interrupted by Barry snatching the paper plane out of Forest’s hand. “Just because the Captain is out today doesn’t mean you can screw off.” He said with a warning glance, tossing the plane into the recycling bin before walking over to lean on Jill’s desk.
“What are we going to do about Chris?” He said, his voice steady with a hint of fatherly worry as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“So you noticed, too? He looks like shit and didn’t even eat breakfast with me this morning. He is definitely in denial about feeling sick.” Jill said, adjusting her beret in an attempt to conceal her concern.
“Oh, hell no. He is nothin’ but a pain in the ass when he is sick. If it's anything like last time, I want no part of it.” Forest said, flopping down in his chair and kicking his legs on his desk.
“We are just going to have to see how this plays out. Whatever you both do, don’t do anything to spook him like last time, we don’t want to attract any unwanted attention with the Captain out today. Let’s keep an eye on him, but don’t let on that you know he is sick, got it?” Barry said while rubbing the back of his neck as an uneasy tension hung in the air of the S.T.A.R.S office.
~
Sounds of casual banter and the clamoring of weights filled the room as the members of the S.T.A.R.S Alpha and Bravo teams gathered in the R.P.D gym for their daily workout session. While team members stretched and mapped out their routines, Chris threw a towel over his shoulder and walked towards the treadmills for his typical warm-up. With his pale and clammy skin noticeable from afar, Jill’s eyes met with Barry briefly in acknowledgment before she finished tying her sneakers and headed over to the cardio area to keep a closer eye on her withering partner.
Taking a seat on the stationary bike beside him, Jill’s face contorted in disgust as she watched Chris’ shirt grow dark with sweat though he couldn’t have been jogging for more than ten minutes. Glancing over to check the metrics on the machine, she noted that he had run just over a mile, which should have been no challenge for the healthy young man who was used to clocking in five or six with her on the weekends, even after a night of heavy drinking. Out of breath and soaked in sweat, Chris slowed his speed down on the treadmill to a walking pace before coming to a complete stop in defeat a few minutes later. After he was done wiping down the machine, Chris leaned against it for a few moments, desperately gurgling his water while toweling his sweat-soaked hair off. Once finished, Chris made his way over to dumbbells, looking worn down more than anything, notably choosing a lighter set of weights than usual for his bicep curls.
Watching the worrisome display play out in front of her, Jill hopped off the stationary bike and headed over to Rebecca who was handing out water to those who needed it.
“Hey Rebecca, do you mind helping me out? I don’t think Chris is feeling so well, but you know how much of a stubborn asshole he can be. Do you think you could pull him aside and have him stretch? Maybe make something up about the Captain mandating it?” She said, lifting her chin towards Chris, who was now sitting on a bench pressing the heels of his hands against his eyelids, his forehead soaked in sweat.
“Oh no, he looks horrible. I’ll have him mix some electrolyte powder into his water, too. I just got a new box of the blue raspberry ones—those are his favorite!” she said cheerfully, pulling out a small foil packet from her medical bag and waving it in front of Jill. “I’m on it.”
Walking briskly over to where Chris was sitting, Rebecca gently nudged his shoulder. “Hey there, Chris, look what came in the mail today. Do you want to mix it into your water?” Rebecca asked, handing the electrolyte package to Chris, who rubbed his eyes with a nod before struggling to tear open the foil packet and pour it into his water bottle.
“Thanks,” Chris said, eyeing her suspiciously while taking a sip of his water.
Noticing his hesitation, Rebecca shifted the medical bag around her waist away from his view before interlacing her fingers and stretching out her arms. “Care to join me for some stretching? The Captain asked me to put together a program and I wanted to test it out first.” She said casually, gesturing to the padded area in the corner of the gym.
“Stretching sounds pretty good right now Becky,” Chris said, his demeanor softening in the absence of Rebecca commenting on his well-being.
Following Rebecca over to the mats, Chris shivered slightly as he took a seat, his sweat-stained shirt hanging heavy against his chest. Taking a swig of his water in between positions, Chris followed Rebecca’s instruction and eased into the stretches slowly. Careful to take a small granola bar out of her medical bag while Chris was deeply breathing with his eyes closed per her instruction, Rebecca handed it to him with a smile when she told him to open his eyes again.
“Want a snack?”
Feeling a pang of hunger hit his stomach, Chris took the granola bar from her and mustered a small half smile in appreciation, thankful since he hadn't managed to eat anything all day. After taking a few bites, he winced when he felt his stomach gurgle in disagreement though he did his best to play off his discomfort. Wrapping the rest of the bar in its packaging, Chris struggled to stand before mumbling something about wanting to take a shower and heading off towards the locker rooms.
~
Changing the responsibility of silently watching over Chris to Barry while the rest of the team finished their workouts and showered, Jill and Rebecca walked into the S.T.A.R.S office with their lunches about an hour later to find Chris snoozing at his desk. Exchanging an uncomfortable glance with Barry, Jill sighed as her eyes landed on the small collection of crumpled used tissues sitting next to the half-eaten sandwich that had been discarded along with the rest of the lunch on Chris’ desk.
Waving them out into the hallway, Barry shut the doors to the S.T.A.R.S office quietly, turning to face the younger women while placing his hands on his hips. “We have to get him out of here. If Irons walks in and sees him sleeping at his desk while the Captain is out, there is going to be hell to pay tomorrow. I’m surprised he didn’t pass out in the showers, he could barely stand for god’s sake. I think the gym took a lot out of him.” He said, shaking his head with uncertainty.
“Shit. At this rate, he isn’t going to be able to drive home later. I think we should tell him that the Captain called and said that he wants Chris to take the afternoon off so he can work the early shift tomorrow. But if it comes from me, he is going to see right through it. Barry, do you think you can convince him to leave?” Jill said thoughtfully, gripping the paper bag in her hand tightly with frustration.
“Of course, but I think it would go better if the two of you weren’t in the room. He gets suspicious easily as we all know.” Barry said with a sigh.
“Agreed. I can call Chris later tonight to call it off, but at least he will be home for the afternoon to rest.” Jill responded, waving Rebecca along to follow her to the break room as they parted ways with Barry who quietly retreated back into the S.T.A.R.S office.
“Hey kid, got some good news for ya’” Barry said, shaking Chris awake.
“Mmmn?”
“Captain Wesker called. He needs you to come in early tomorrow, so you can take the afternoon off. He will call you later with the details, but you’re off the hook for today.” Barry said confidently while watching Chris rub his eyes and cough.
“Oh, sure. Yeah, I'll talk to him later I guess.” Chris said wearily, blowing his leaking nose into a tissue before pushing the pile of garbage on his desk into the small trash can by his feet.
“Yeah, he didn’t say much, but as you know, the Captain never does. I’m sure he’s got a good case for you to dig into tomorrow.” Barry said as Chris gathered his things. Sure, or he wants an early morning fuck. Chris thought to himself, a small smirk appearing on his pale face as he swung his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the building and towards his Jeep.
~
The ride home from the R.P.D was uneventful, though Chris had to rifle through his glove box to find some spare napkins to push up against his leaking nose along the way. Feeling worn out when he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment, Chris sighed when he looked up at his third-floor balcony, the thought of getting from his car to his door seeming like an impossible task. Holding the bridge of his nose between his fingers for a few moments in an attempt to soothe the pressure building in his sinuses, Chris blew his nose hard, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that came afterward as he began the trek up to his apartment. Opting for the elevator, Chris leaned against the wall for support as his stomach began to turn despite the slow movement of the cab. Once the doors had opened, Chris scrambled towards his apartment, feeling his body overcome with a hot sensation. Bursting through the door, he tumbled into his bathroom just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the white porcelain toilet bowl in front of him. With his head pounding and his stomach throbbing, Chris curled up on the floor of his bathroom, shaking as his entire body broke into a cold sweat before succumbing to his exhaustion and falling into a restless sleep.
Awoken briefly by the distant sound of ringing later that evening, Chris whimpered at the aches of pain he felt coursing through his body while slowly trying to discard his sweat-soaked uniform which weighed heavily on his sore body. Crawling towards his bedroom, he managed to kick off his boots and pants before shrugging out of his vest, left only in his damp t-shirt and boxers before crawling into a ball and falling back asleep on the floor at the foot of his bed, feeling too weak to lift himself on top of it.
~
The next morning, Wesker arrived at the S.T.A.R.S office at his usual time, about forty-five minutes before everyone else came in for their shift. Upon entering the office, however, he was surprised to find that he had been beaten by his breaking and entering specialist.
“Miss Valentine? Good Morning, you’re here quite early.” Wesker said, raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses-covered eyes when he took in Jill’s frantic appearance.
“Captain! Did you talk to Chris last night?” she asked, her eyes searching his face for an answer.
“No, I haven’t spoken to him since the day before last. I was not made aware that I needed to contact him.” Wesker said, his eyes narrowing with interest from behind his dark lenses.
“Captain, yesterday Chris looked like he was coming down with a terrible cold. We told him that you needed him to come in early today so he could go home and get some rest, but when I tried to call him last night to call it off, he didn’t answer.” Jill said, her face scrunching with guilt.
“Miss Valentine, I thought you and Christopher to be close friends. Why would you lie to him?” Wesker said, tilting his head in annoyance.
“I’m sorry Captain, but in all honesty, Chris is a stubborn prick when he is sick. Last year, do you remember when he was out for a couple of days? Forest and I had to break down his bathroom door because he was locked in there with a fever and wouldn’t come out. We even had to hold him down and force him to take medicine and let me tell you it wasn’t pretty. He may be my best friend, but I know him well enough to know that when he is sick, he is a complete ass, sir.” Jill said, looking down at the floor.
“I see. And have you heard from him this morning?” Wesker said, glancing around the office to find no trace of Chris’ usual belongings.
“No, and that has me worried. He didn’t call me back last night, and he didn't pick up the phone this morning either. I was hoping to catch him here this morning before you came in but if he didn’t drag himself here under what he thought were your orders, I can only assume he is in bad shape.” Jill said, picking at her fingernails anxiously. “I also have to go to that training downtown today and I won’t be able to check on him. Do you think you can swing by to see him? If he is going to listen to anyone, it's going to be you. He keeps a spare key outside his apartment behind the water fountain.” Jill said hopefully, as Wesker stood silently and processed her request, noting to himself that the use of the spare key would not be necessary because he had his own.
“Understood. I will check on him this morning,” Wesker said, checking his watch, “Please hurry along, you don’t want to be late to the training, Miss Valentine, I don’t wish to receive a call from Chief Irons.”
“Oh shit–I mean, thanks Captain, will do! Good luck with Chris, give me a call later if he is being unbearable.” Jill said, rushing to grab her bag before heading out the door.
Sighing, Wesker entered his office and placed his briefcase on the desk. Picking up his phone, he dialed the number to Chris’ apartment and silently waited as the line rang endlessly until the voicemail picked up.
“Hey it's Chris, sorry ya missed me. Leave a message at the beep!”
Hanging up the phone, Wesker hummed when he noticed Captain Marini walk through the S.T.A.R.S office door. Briefly explaining the situation to him, Wesker made arrangements for Marini to take over for the day before gathering his things and heading out to his car. Stuck in the morning commuter traffic on the way towards Chris’ apartment, he remained calm throughout the short drive though the nagging memory of Chris excitedly showing him his caller ID device clouded his mind. Chris was great about returning calls, and if several from Jill and one from his office did not rouse him, something had to be wrong. Contemplating what Jill had told him, Wesker found himself gripping the steering wheel impatiently as he waited for the traffic to clear.
~
“Chris?” Wesker called out after finding the door to Chris’ apartment unlocked. The place was no messier than usual, though Wesker could feel his lip curl at the faint scent of vomit that wafted through the air. Opening the living room window, he followed the trail of Chris’ clothes leading into the younger man’s bedroom. Upon entering, his eyes widened at the sight of Chris curled into a small ball on the floor, drenched in sweat and shivering.
“Chris? Chris? Are you awake?” Wesker asked, his first aid training kicking in while he began shaking his Pointman by the shoulder to confirm if he was conscious.
“Cap?” Chris said weakly as he blinked his eyes slowly, “Mm’ I late?” he mumbled in his usual half-asleep haze, though his skin was pale and sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Let’s sit you up, here,” Wesker said, helping Chris to a seated position against the bed as the younger man rubbed his eyes. Holding his hand against Chris’ forehead, Wesker frowned when Chris pulled away with a distrustful gaze he had never seen before from his younger lover.
“It seems you have a fever. Have you been sleeping on the floor all night?” Wesker asked, as Chris, who was slowly becoming more aware of the situation, scooted against the bed like a threatened animal.
Sighing quietly, Wesker stood up to give Chris some space before opening his dresser and pulling out a fresh shirt, underwear, and pajama pants for him to change into.
“Your clothes are drenched in sweat, it would be best for you to change. Do you need assistance?” Wesker asked, placing the clothes within Chris’ reach on the floor.
“No. I can do it myself.” Chris said, his hands shaking slightly as he grabbed for the dry shirt. Wincing through the ache he felt in his shoulders while removing his sweat-stained shirt, Chris let out a frustrated sigh before he shrugged into the dry shirt, groaning quietly with every movement. Breathing heavily, as if the task exerted too much effort, Chris avoided Wesker’s gaze while reaching for the clean underwear.
“You gonna’ be a pervert and sit there and watch?”
“Am I going to stand here and make sure changing your underpants doesn’t cause you to pass out? Yes.” Wesker said, folding his arms as Chris huffed in annoyance and slowly wiggled out of his boxers. Breaking into a brief coughing fit once he got the new ones on, Chris looked at the pajama pants on the floor for a moment with disdain before resting his head against the bed.
“Don’t need those.” He said, closing his eyes to settle the sudden dizziness he felt.
“Nonsense. It will only take a moment. Here, let me help you,” Wesker said, kneeling down to help Chris put on his pajamas.
Once Chris was dressed, Wesker helped him into his bed and placed his comforter overtop his shivering body. Leaving the room for a couple of minutes, Wesker picked up Chris’ discarded clothes on the way to retrieve a glass of water for him in the kitchen. Making his way to the bathroom, he frowned before flushing the toilet and closing the lid, wondering how long the young man had been experiencing nausea. Opening the cabinet over the sink to find a bottle of aspirin he had purchased to keep there recently, he poured two pills into his hand and walked back into Chris’ room, noticing the brunette staring at him suspiciously from beneath the covers.
“Please take these. I suspect you have a fever,” Wesker said, holding out the pills and water toward Chris.
“Don’t want them,” Chris said stubbornly, shaking his head in defiance.
“Christopher, just what has gotten into you? A fever can be serious if left untreated, please don’t make me force these pills upon you.”
“I can’t. I haven't eaten since yesterday. Gonna make me puke.” Chris said, pushing Wesker’s hand away weakly and turning his head.
Sighing, Wesker pocketed the pills and placed the glass of water down on Chris’ nightstand. “Very well. I will make you something to eat.” Wesker said, pushing his glasses up his nose in an attempt to shield the sense of worry that was causing his eyebrows to furrow.
Finding a loaf of bread on Chris’ counter, Wesker prepared two slices of toast, buttering them lightly and cutting them in half before returning back to Chris’ room. Walking through the doorway, Wesker observed Chris finish up a coughing fit, the loud bellowing coughs sounding wet and painful.
“Do you think you can manage a few bites of toast? You must be hungry.” Wesker said, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing Chris the plate.
Nodding slightly, Chris struggled to eat half of the toast, his throat dry and scratchy. Sipping on the water, Chris managed to finish the entire slice before pushing the plate back towards Wesker.
“Throat hurts.” He said with a sniffle, as Wesker hummed in acknowledgment.
“At least you managed to get something in your stomach. Perhaps now you will consider taking the aspirin?” Wesker said casually, pausing in the doorway after clearing the plate from Chris’ bed.
Shrugging in annoyance, Chris huffed when Wesker left the room, only to inhale sharply a few moments later when he felt a cramp in his abdomen.
Grimacing as his stomach gurgled, Chris threw the covers off of himself before stumbling out of the bed. Racing towards the bathroom, he ran past Wesker while holding his hand over his mouth, making it just in time to throw up in the sink. Dizzy and lightheaded, Chris kneeled down on the floor, rubbing his eyes in frustration as his head pounded. “Uhg, fuck.”
Clenching his jaw in concern, Wesker dampened a face cloth and knelt down next to Chris who continued to curse in frustration. Gently wiping his mouth off with the cloth, Wesker helped Chris stand back up and guided him back to his bed. Once the brunette was comfortably covered by his comforter, Wesker took his sunglasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Chris, I am concerned. Being unable to eat or drink is very dangerous and it appears that you are showing signs of dehydration as well. If we don’t get this under control I am going to have no choice but to bring you to a hospital.” He said with a sigh, his icy blue eyes staring at the younger man, an unusual hint of worry fluttering across them.
“H-hospital?” Chris choked, as Wesker watched fear cross Chris’ eyes.
Surprised by the younger man’s sudden change in demeanor, Wesker watched Chris shift uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room as if he were searching for a means of escape in between coughs laced with heavy wheezing.
“I am not going to a fucking hospital.” Chris spat, looking at Wesker with a seriousness he rarely showed.
“What makes you think you can take that tone with me, Christopher? It’s inappropriate as both your Captain and even more so as your lover.” Wesker scolded, though his words were laced with hurt more than anger.
“Don’t you have to go back to the station or something?” Chris said, folding his knees into himself under the comforter.
Pausing, Wesker was taken aback by the suggestion. Chris usually cherished their time together, often begging him to stay longer or sleep in with him if they had spent the night together. Implying that he wanted Wesker to leave was beyond out of character for the younger man, even with the current circumstances. Unable to voice the concern that fell over him, Wesker reached out gently and cupped the side of Chris’ very warm cheek.
“I do not wish to leave you in this condition,” Wesker said softly, his blue eyes reflecting a tenderness that caused the tension Chris was holding to dissipate.
“Come here, you must feel horrible,” Wesker said, pulling Chris into an embrace.
Noticing that Chris was shaking slightly and that his heart was thumping fast within his chest, Wesker gently rubbed his back until the younger man’s heart rate calmed and his fever-stricken forehead melted onto his shoulder.
“It worries me to see you like this. But I promise that I am not going to force you to do anything you do not wish to do. However, to keep your condition from escalating, I need you to meet me halfway. Why don’t you rest now and we can try again when you wake up?” Wesker said, laying Chris back down against the pillows.
Nodding slightly, Chris sniffled as he looked up at Wesker from beneath his long eyelashes, his expression mixed with guilt and exhaustion.
~
“William,” Wesker said into the phone when he heard the line pick up.
“Tsk. It's the middle of the day. What is it, Al?” William Birkin clicked his tongue with annoyance, the sound of glass beakers clanking echoing through the phone loudly.
“I need you to put together a flu medication immediately, and it must be clear and tasteless.”
“Flu medication? Clear and tasteless? For what? You never get sick.” William asked as Wesker rolled his eyes at the observation.
“No, I haven't had a cold since I was a child. The medication is not for me…it is for Christopher.” Wesker said, regretting his words as soon as he spoke them.
“Of for fucks sake Al, you want me to pause my research to cater to your little pet?” William retorted with disgust.
“William I am not going to elaborate any further. I need it within the hour.” Wesker said, rolling his eyes.
“The hour? You’re unbelievable—ugh, shit!” William said, cursing as the sound of glass breaking loudly caused Wesker to pull the phone away from his ear. “You know what? I’ll do it. But I expect my test subject supply to be replenished by the end of next week.”
Sighing, Wesker rubbed his forehead in annoyance “Fine. Just have it ready.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to make it bubblegum flavored?” William snickered.
“Clear and tasteless. And it needs to address nausea too.” Wesker said, pulling the phone away again when William started to yell into his ear.
“Interrupting world-changing research to play pharmacist? I’ll have you know that G is—”
Click.
Shaking his head, Wesker pocketed his cell phone and unlocked his car. Making his way to the grocery store and pharmacy before picking up the medication from William’s lab, he collected all the necessary supplies he believed he would need to nurse his stubborn Pointman back to full health.
~
Stirring the pot of soup on the stove slowly, Wesker leaned over to taste it briefly before humming with satisfaction. Pouring some of the soup into a bowl, he stirred the contents of one of the white capsules William had provided him with; busying himself with tidying up Chris’ apartment while the soup cooled. With the warm bowl in hand, Wesker quietly entered Chris’ room, which was quiet except for the wheezy snores that came from underneath the covers.
“Christopher, it’s time for lunch.” He said softly, gently shaking the brunette awake.
With swollen red eyes and an even redder nose, Chris sniffled before looking over to the bowl Wesker had placed on his nightstand.
“Perhaps something warm will soothe your stomach and throat?” Wesker said, pausing before he held the bowl out to Chris who was eyeing it hungrily.
“This soup contains a tasteless medication. It is not my intention to drug you without your permission, but I am hopeful that my honesty will earn your trust.” Wesker said, tilting his head slightly as Chris coughed a few times and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
“OK,” Chris said weakly, taking the bowl from Wesker and gently lifting a few spoonfuls up to his mouth.
‘It’s good.” Chris said, his voice raspy though a small smile of approval graced his lips as he continued to slurp on the soup.
“Excellent, it is an old recipe,” Wesker said, rubbing his hand along Chris’ thigh as the younger man tilted the bowl to finish the last bit of broth within it.
Taking the bowl away to the kitchen, Wesker returned with a glass of water. “You did so well finishing the soup, how is your stomach feeling?”
“It feels good actually, I was starving,” Chris said, blowing his nose into a nearby tissue.
“I spoke with Miss Chambers while I was out, and she told me that these blue-colored packets were your favorite. They are supposed to aid with hydration.” Wesker said, holding up the glass of water and the electrolyte package.
With his hazel eyes softening at the sincere effort his Captain was putting into helping him recover, Chris nodded happily while Wesker mixed the package into the water and handed it back to Chris.
“The blue raspberry ones taste the best! Thanks.” Chris said, settling against his plush headboard while slowly sipping on the drink, shivering slightly as his sweat-stained shirt was exposed from underneath the blanket.
“Can you get me a new shirt and help me use the bathroom? I need to take a leak,” Chris said, his earlier apprehension toward Wesker melting away.
Once Wesker had assisted Chris, he helped him back into his bed. “Perhaps once your fever comes down later, I can draw you a bath?” Wesker said, tucking the blankets back in around him.
“Yeah, that sounds good. Do you think you could lay with me for a little while?” Chris asked, unsure hazel eyes peeking up at Wesker from beneath his comforter.
Nodding, Wesker unbuttoned his blue dress shirt and neatly folded it onto a nearby chair in Chris’ room. Taking off his sunglasses, he lay on top of the blankets in his undershirt and slacks and pulled Chris, who was now lying on his side, closer to him. As Chris relaxed into the warm embrace, he nuzzled his face against the pillow and breathed freely, the congestion in his sinuses clearing thanks to the medication.
As silence fell over the room, Chris listened to Wesker’s soft rhythmic breathing, clutching the comforter with guilt as he quietly spoke. “It’s because of my parents, y’know.”
“What?”
“My parents didn’t die on impact in the car crash. They were brought to the hospital first. I was at school when they told me and just I ran there. I ran the whole way to the hospital as fast as I could, I swear the soles of my shitty old Converse almost gave way. When I got there I sat alone in the waiting room for hours. They let me see them through a window in between surgeries but they couldn’t save them. I haven’t been to a hospital since. It was the worst day of my life.”
A Chris spoke, Wesker lifted his head from the pillow he was resting on and propped it up on his elbow, patiently listening as his younger lover’s voice broke and a tear ran down his cheek. Pulling Chris towards him, he wiped the wetness from his cheek. “I am so sorry Christopher, I did not know you experienced such trauma. Nor did I consider it when you began acting so erratically.” Wesker said, placing a small kiss on the side of his face.
“You didn’t know. I’m sorry for being an ass when you were trying to help me. Thanks for sticking with me.” Chris said, squeezing Wesker’s hand that was wrapped around him.
“Of course,” Wesker said, wrapping the blanket around Chris tightly until his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.
~
That evening, Chris emerged from his bedroom, yawning while stretching his arms overhead before joining Wesker on the couch who had been flipping through a newspaper.
“How are you feeling?”
“A hell of a lot better that’s for sure. Do you think I could have some toast with more of that soup for dinner? And I think I’ll take you up on that bath too, I stink.” Chris said with a warm smile, his sunkissed complexion slowly returning.
Glad to see Chris’ appetite returning, Wesker hummed in agreement as Chris laid his head on his lap. Running his fingers through Chris’ tangled mess of hair, Wesker smiled when the younger man sighed contently against him, his forehead feeling a normal temperature again.
“Perhaps what you needed all along was a little comfort”