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It’s Wesker who's the one to first tell him, breaking the news right after Chris has gotten Rosemary settled into her high chair at the family restaurant he’s convinced Wesker to go to after weeks of begging.
His argument was to create the image of a family, and despite Wesker's numerous complaints and snide remarks about the sham of the nuclear family, he finally conceded to Chris’s demand.
Clearly there was a catch.
“All survivors of Raccoon City are going to die.” Wesker smiles at him and proceeds to take a long sip of his drink. The man Chris Redfield agreed to spend his life with is a sick, sick man.
“What the hell?”
“Try to avoid making a scene, Chris. It’ll unnerve Rosemary.”
“Don’t tell me—” Chris catches himself, refocusing. “Goddamit, Wesker! Explain yourself!”
“There have been documented sustained effects from all those who came in contact with the unique conditions of Raccoon City and lived to tell the tale.”
Chris pulls out his phone, a wave of panic hitting him like a boulder thrice his size. He has to call his sister, try to contact Jill, get his wolf squad deployed and–
Wesker’s hand wraps around his wrist, holding his arm in place. The impressive strength he got from that very same virus is still very much in effect.
“My exact words were that survivors are going to die. They are not dead yet.”
“How do you know this? Is this your doing, Wesker?”
Wesker chuckles. “Of course not. Such delayed response is crude at best, and inefficient for meaningful data. You are not dying, as I ran my own experiment in that deplorable mansion with far more elegance than the truly embarrassing series of events that led to the annihilation of Raccoon City.”
“I need to call Claire.”
Wesker lazily releases Chris from his grip, turning to coo at Rosemary. “I’m sure our little soldier would enjoy a visit from her aunt.”
“Does she know?”
“Are you referring to the baby or the sister?”
Chris ignores the deliberate attempt to get under his skin. “Claire’s going to have questions.”
“Since you insisted that tedious contract of ours forbade me from intentionally harming anyone you consider family, I will oblige to answer.”
Chris finally picks up his phone, shooting his sister a text. She responds in seconds, the usual for Claire when she’s not at work.
“She’s coming over tomorrow.”
“Fantastic. Glad we’ve gotten that all squared away. Now I suggest we enjoy this family outing, as you so insisted upon.”
Chris forces a smile, reminding himself that despite everything, this bastard who destroyed his life before forcing his way back into it manages to be good with their daughter.
They do enjoy their dinner. Rosemary most of all, banging her utensils around with pure joy at the mac and cheese she’s allowed to make a complete mess of. Chris tries in vain to mop up the cheesy globs as Wesker congratulates her on her talent as a destructive force.
When Claire Redfield shows up the next day, the first thing she does is threaten Wesker not to mess things up. It’s the usual for them, and for Chris’ arrangement with the man. His sister had to know about it, and in doing so, ensured a permanent feud between the two. They usually argue about Rosemary, with Claire having none of Wesker’s plans for her potential. This particular day had a new topic.
“You’re kidding me. You had Chris invite me over to tell me I’m dying?”
“Not precisely. I told him you were dying and he insisted,” Wesker says.
“Explain this to me again. Everyone who was in Raccoon City?”
“Yes, Claire. Everyone.”
“There’s no cure?”
“The sources that informed me of this believe that at this time. I, however, don’t have high regard for their intellect.”
Claire huffs, falling back into the sofa. “I have been feeling off lately. How long do I have?”
“I’d give it a year.”
Chris swears, and Wesker turns sharply to the man. “Not in front of Rosemary.”
“You just told us that my sister has a year left to live!”
“And I suggest we spend that year ensuring our daughter is raised in a proper environment.”
Claire coughs loudly. “I’m the one with the incurable disease here, can we save the lovers quarrel for later?”
“It’s quite curable.” Wesker scoffs, gesturing for Chris to hand him Rosemary. Chris obliges, and immediately begins pacing back and forth. He’s never been one to handle anything without a punchable solution particularly well. Wesker settles Rosemary onto his lap, and she busies herself trying to climb up his shoulder and grab at his sunglasses.
“I have some decent access to resources at TerraSave these days, and it sounds like this is going to impact a significant amount of people. What can we do to cure this?”
Wesker attempts to move Rosemary off to the side, where she immediately stands up to get a better angle at grabbing his sunglasses.
“I don’t suspect TerraSave will be much help. Your little nonprofit is not equipped with the expertise I have. However, if you allow me to take a sample of your blood, I will use my far greater knowledge of the T-virus and see if I am able to find a long-term stabilizer.”
“Are you sure this will work?”
“One of my prior collaborators has already reached out about the virus. She had more extreme symptoms than you currently present, and I had success in halting additional effects of the virus.”
Chris frowns. “A prior collaborator?”
Rosemary has managed to grab Wesker’s glasses, putting them on and grinning at her aunt. Claire gives her a thumbs up and Wesker groans, covering his yellow eyes with one hand.
“Rosemary, I told you that your father gets headaches. Please return them to me at once.” Wesker says.
“No!”
Claire snickers. “Someone’s raising her right.”
“Rosemary, please give those back to your father,” Chris says, kneeling down next to her. She pouts at him, putting Wesker’s glasses on.
Claire bursts out in laughter behind him. “You can’t ask for those back. Look at her.”
Wesker does, peeling his hand away from his eyes just long enough to take a good look at Rosemary’s beaming face. His shades are in fact, much too big for her, but with the stubbornness of anyone in the Redfield family, Rosemary’s managed to pull it off. Wesker offers her a small smile.
“Damn. He can smile?” Claire asks, directed to Chris.
“Sometimes.”
“Perhaps your presence simply doesn’t bring me joy.”
Claire laughs again. “Come on, don’t lie. You’re a lonely bastard with my brother for company. Of course you enjoy my presence.”
Wesker gently extracts his shades from Rosemary’s face, sliding them on and consoling her with a terse pat to the head. She giggles.
“We have gotten off topic. I’m not disclosing information about my prior collaborator as it falls outside the terms of our agreement. However, I am offering to help stabilize Claire’s condition and prevent it from worsening.”
Claire, always effortlessly able to shift from casual to work mode, fires back. “How much longer will that buy me?”
“I’m very good at what I do, Claire. At least five years.”
“What about other survivors? Does Jill know?”
“Unfortunately, since Valentine is one of the few people Chris has insisted be protected, I will likely be obliged to offer her the same thing I have offered you.”
Claire glances over to Chris, who’s finally sunk down on the couch next to his makeshift family. “Have you been in contact with Jill?”
“She’s still ignoring my calls.”
Claire nods. “Okay, I’ll contact her. Explain the situation. I should be able to bring a blood sample next month.”
“I’ll need one unit.”
“Y’know, this is something TerraSave does have the resources for.”
Wesker sneers. “How quaint.”
Claire sneers back at him. “I rather be part of something quaint than a wanted criminal.”
“They can’t prove anything.”
“I’m sure I could.”
There’s a long, unbroken silence between the two of them. Chris clears his throat, “Does anyone want something to drink?”
“Juice!” Rosemary yells.
“Yes, Chris. I would also like some juice.”
Claire rolls her eyes, but backs off momentarily. “What about the other survivors who are affected?”
“They are none of my concern.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“Yes, well, I never attempted anything to the contrary.”
Chris returns with the juice. As soon as he puts down Wesker’s glass, Claire steals it, chugging the beverage. Wesker glowers, but lets the action slide, knowing it’ll make Chris happy. Despite all of his protesting and hand wringing around their arrangement, Chris is absurdly easy to please.
They spend the rest of the afternoon playing childish boardgames. Rosemary delights in it, not quite old enough to grasp the intensity Wesker and Claire bring to the game.
Claire returns with the requested samples sooner than she’d promised. She has one more than Wesker requested. When he eyes it with warranted skepticism, Claire informs him that if he doesn’t make one additional stabilizer, Jill Valentine will personally hunt him down and skin him alive. Wesker does not doubt the validity of the threat, despite the questionable chance it could be achieved.
Claire hovers over him throughout the process, something that makes Wesker lament his willingness to promise never to hurt the younger Redfield again. He misses the days of grabbing her by the neck and tossing her around.
“Is Sherry going to be alright?”
“You’re referring to the Birkin child?”
“She’s not a child anymore.”
Wesker hums, indifferent. “I’ve seen the data that was collected. She should be able to withstand it with her enhanced immune system.”
“Will you help if that’s not enough?”
Wesker turns towards Claire, the reddish glint of his eyes visible underneath his shades. “You’re as stubborn as your brother.”
“She’s family.”
“Indeed.” Wesker moves faster than Claire can follow, shooting something into her arm. She stumbles back, incredulous, as he settles back into his seat. “It seems like nausea and temporary loss of vision are common side effects, but they should wear off by the end of the week.”
Claire is unable to reply, covering her mouth.
Wesker smiles at her. “I’ll have Valentine’s finished shortly. I suggest you find a bathroom before you make a mess of my office.”
She flips him off before stumbling out of the room.
The remaining stabilizers are short work for Wesker’s intellect, it’s almost demeaning. At least Chris will be grateful. If Wesker is lucky, he might even coerce Chris into bed with him over his good deeds. That’ll at least improve his mood.
A phone call distracts him from spending any further time planning out the perfect evening. He answers, annoyed at the request he knows is waiting on the other end.
“I’m busy, Ada.”
“I’m going to need another one.” Ada says.
“And why on earth do you think I’ll make one for him?”
There’s a sigh on the phone. “Because you owe me.”
“I already provided you with the stabilizer.”
“Yeah, it got him terrified I was pregnant. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Wesker scoffs. “It’s not my problem you’ve chosen someone emotionally unavailable.”
“Ha ha.” Ada says dryly. “Does your boytoy still want me dead?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Suppose that puts a dent in any impromptu visits.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not particularly enthralled by the thought of your presence either.”
That gets a genuine laugh out of Ada, which bothers Wesker more than he’d like. “I’m the closest thing you have to a friend. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m incapable of being stupid. Childish insults are below you.”
“What can I say? Someone’s been rubbing off on me.”
“You have terrible taste in men,” Wesker snaps.
“At least the man in my life wants me. Heard the saying about stones and glass houses?”
Wesker curses at his phone and promptly hangs up. Ada Wong had a tremendous talent for finding weaknesses and digging in, and it was pathetic to find himself at the other end. He won’t be making anything for that miserable slut she’s shackled herself to, and that’s final.
Wesker might have his work cut out for him to win back the heart of his best trained man, but Chris is right where he wants him. With Rosemary to raise, he’s not going anywhere.