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It happened on a Tuesday morning; the rain and fog thick over the east coast and entirely too wet for anyone’s taste, except for the waterfowl. Traffic was quicker than usual, a handful of the population deciding to stay home and get cozy rather than go to work.
At 8:15 a.m. the members of the Hound Wolf Squad began to arrive at the BSAA’s headquarters. But something wasn’t quite right already… the dark green Jeep belonging to one Captain Redfield wasn’t in the assigned spot. Noting it, they continued on their way to get started before clocking in for the day.
8:30 a.m. rolled around, the Wolves settling in and very much noticing that Redfield’s office door was locked and shut, the lights off.
“Maybe he’s just running late this morning?” Canine suggested.
“He might have had an appointment; he had one a few months ago but let us know in advance.” Tundra offered.
They settled in to get started on the extra long list of assignments written on the whiteboard, coffee brewing in the kitchenette. While no one said another word, six pairs of eyes strayed every few minutes to the clock, and to the elevator down the hallway.
“Did anyone get a message?” Pier asked, “I don’t like this.”
A chorus of noes through the office.
8:45 a.m. and there was a soft ding of the elevator. Eyes shot to the hallway immediately, and disappointment was written on the face of the Squad. It was Jill Valentine, not Captain Redfield. Surveying the room and the locked office, she raised a brow.
“Nivans, where’s your Captain?”
“Unknown as of yet.”
“No messages?”
“No ma’am.”
“Huh. Tell him I’m looking for him when he gets here. I’m sure it won’t be long from now.” Turning on her heel, she left with the folders for Chris in hand.
“Will do.”
9:04 a.m. brought another elevator ding, followed by quiet but heavy footsteps. The cadence was off, slower, almost plodding as Redfield made it to the bullpen. He walked softly, nodding to the Wolves as he made his way to the office with only a small work bag dangling from his left hand. No gym bag. No lunch container. Making it to his office door, unlocking it like it was a chore, he stepped in with a heavy stomp, almost tripping into the closet-sized room.
If alarm bells weren’t sounding at the slow manner Chris walked, they were when he nearly faceplanted getting inside his office. Their Captain had never been described as a graceful man, but he certainly wasn’t a klutz. No, every movement was done purposefully with a level of confidence that only comes from someone very well acquainted with their body.
They heard quiet shuffling and a small thud of his bag hitting the floor, and then those same slow steps before his massive frame filled the office doorway.
“My apologies for the lateness, I was…unavoidably detained. I have no new assignments for you today beyond what is on the whiteboard. If you finish early, you may join a training session with Valentine or Oliveira at in the afternoon.” His voice was hoarse, gravelly, and sounded like he was on the verge of losing it entirely.
Turning back, he closed his office door quietly. The Wolves were immediately on the same level of alert as if an Uroboros rocket threat was announced. Heading straight into the messaging app, it was DEFCON 1.
Umber Eyes: He NEVER closes the door!
Tundra: Something’s wrong with him
Lobo: “Unavoidably detained”… Sounds like he got arrested or something, not coming in looking like night of the living dead.
Canine: He looks awful. Sallow, didn’t shave this morning, running basically three hours late according to his normal schedule…
Fenrir: There weren’t any birthday parties or anything that I know of. So he’s not hungover. Maybe we should call in Dr. Chambers?
Night Howl: Let’s let him be for a bit. We’ll alert Valentine in about an hour or two, give him some time to settle in. He looks like he needs time to get himself straightened away a little.
Tundra: Okay… but let’s check on him in an hour and a half to be sure. I’m sure one of us can generate a question from the assignments.
With a consensus reached, the HWS resumed their tasks. Being mindful of the time, they allowed 10:30 to roll by before Tundra got up from her desk with a page in hand. Crossing the room, she knocked quietly on Redfield’s door.
“Sir?” Listening for a response, getting nothing. Knocking again, “Captain? Sir?” Biting her lip, she twisted the doorknob and cracked the door a couple of inches to see inside. What greeted her made her blood run cold and the paper slip from numb fingers.
Slumped over the desk like a broken puppet was Chris Redfield, blood seeping from the left corner of his mouth and puddling on the desk next to the stack of untouched paperwork. Stifling a panic response, her fingers immediately were at his throat to check for a pulse. Weak, like even his heart was as exhausted as the rest of his body.
“Piers! We’ve got a Code Seven, rapid response necessary. Alert Medical right now and Valentine for possible decontamination procedures.”
“On it!” His voice was hard, adrenaline pumping as he began the necessary calls.
Canine and Umber were immediately crowding into the office, watching as Tundra carefully checked to determine if there were cervical spine injuries before giving them the all-clear to help her get their Captain out of his office. Managing to get their very heavy leader to the floor, they carefully and slowly hauled him into the central part of the office floor to make it easier for medical intervention.
Three minutes later, the elevator sounded again, this time with a gurney, Dr. Chambers, Jill Valentine, and two other medical personnel running down the hallway.
“Report!” Jill snapped.
“Found Captain Redfield unconscious at 10:32 a.m. in his office at the desk. He showed signs of exhaustion, sallow skin tone, and strained vocal cords upon arrival at 9:04 a.m. I determined no cervical spine injuries, appears to be no head injuries, no punctures I could find upon initial inspection. It seems that he arrived, passed out at an undetermined time. His office door was closed, ma’am.” Tundra spoke as she watched the flurry of activity around her Captain. Dr. Chambers already had him hooked up to the oxygen monitor, checking his pupils, airways.
“Alright, help us get him up and loaded, we gotta get him to Med Bay now.”
The Wolves quickly surrounded their Captain, mindful of wires and equipment. They carefully scooped him up, laying him down as gently as possible on the gurney, a nurse securing the transport straps over top of his chest and legs. In a matter of only a minute, they were back and running down the hallway to the elevator. As the doors closed, the sound of silence was heavy in the room.
“We should have checked on him sooner.” Lobo ground out.
“He’s never going to close that door on us again.” Umber Eyes nodded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the Med Bay, the unconscious Redfield was subjected to numerous tests to make certain that his current state was not a result of a bio-terrorist attack. The reality of being a Captain of the BSAA and an elite hunter of all things B.O.W. meant that he was subjected to threats of assassination several times over the past few years.
Thankfully, today was not that.
“Okay, panels coming back all clear. As I thought, this was because of what I’ve been treating him for, Jill.” Rebecca spoke softly. Both women looked up as Leon Kennedy walked into the door to the private room where Chris was still unconscious.
“Claire called me, after Piers called her. She couldn’t come, asked me to see how the big guy is doing. What happened? Has he woken up at all?” His brows furrowed as he looked at the large, limp form on the bed.
“Leon, he missed two infusion appointments back-to-back. One wasn’t his fault, he was assigned a last-minute mission, and yesterday we were so backed up that he said he’d come first thing this morning. I’m giving him the first infusion now, then we’ll wait an hour and test to see if he needs the second as well.” She rubbed her face a bit, “No, he hasn’t woken yet. But he does have a wicked lung and throat infection on top of his…situation. Hard to say what made him pass out, the sickness or the deficiencies. Whichever it was, it dropped him hard enough that he bit the inside of his cheek hard really badly. Had to give him three stitches in there, he’s not going to be happy about that when he wakes up.”
“Shit, that’s not good. He can’t miss any appointments from now on. If he has to go on any joint ops, I know how to put an IV in, I can make sure he gets what he needs. And one of his Wolves is a trained medic. I’m sure they could do the same thing for him.” He stood beside the bed, watching over his friend and running fingers through Chris’ short brown hair.
“I’m not going to allow him on any ops for the next two weeks. I can’t do that in good conscience.” Rebecca shook her head, “Not until I can know for sure that the infections are clearing up and his bloodwork comes back more balanced.”
Leon nodded, taking a seat to wait out the time for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At three p.m., the Hound Wolf Squad had had enough. Their assignments begrudgingly finished despite the distress at the whole situation; they were moving as a unit towards the Medical Bay. Training sessions could fuck off for the day. Spotting their target at a desk close by, they made for her directly.
“Dr. Chambers, any word on Alpha’s condition?” Piers asked, all business at the moment.
“He’s stable and shows signs of waking. He’s sick needs to be held overnight for observation and treatment before taking the next two weeks off on mandatory medical leave.”
“What do you mean ‘shows signs of waking’, Dr.?” Umber asked. “Has he been out this whole time?”
“Yes, but he’s responding to treatment. We’ve been through one round of infusions and medicines and are on the second now. You all may see him. Although he needs rest, I’m sure it would mean a lot if you said hello to him for now.” She smiled softly at the Squad.
“Thank you, Dr. Chambers.” Piers spoke softly.
They headed to the room she pointed to, noting that Kennedy was in the chair closest to the bed watching over their Alpha. The blonde looked up, a slight smirk on his face as he saw the six very concerned faces before turning to the bed.
“Hey big guy, your pups are here. Wanna say hello?” He softly patted a massive shoulder closest to him.
They heard a very soft groan before the gravelly voice reached them, hushed even quieter than they’d heard in the morning. Barely an audible rumble of words.
“Hey…Th-nks…f-r getting’… me…hre.” Exhausted stormy blue eyes looked at the Squad, blearily blinking.
Slowly coming closer to the bed so as not to crowd too much, each of the Wolves softly greeted their Captain with a warm touch on the arm or leg, whichever was closest.
“Just glad to see you awake, Alpha.” Tundra offered.
“You’re never closing your office door again, Sir. Respectfully, of course.” Canine spoke.
That got a rumble of a chuckle that broke up into a wheezing, pained cough.
“We’ll go for now, but we are checking in on you until you’re back to normal, Captain.” Piers said softly, “Get better soon.”
Chris nodded, eyes sliding almost closed once more as a nurse made her way into the crowded room to take his vitals once more.
The Wolves made their way back out, heading back to the bullpen to retrieve items and clear out for now. Kennedy was still on first watch, but Canine and Lobo would take the second shift when he departed later. It had already been agreed upon that the Hound Wolf Squad would make sure nothing else bothered their Captain on their watch.
Leon chuckled softly after checking his phone to see that Piers had sent him a schedule for Alpha Watch.
“Chris, you’re raising your pups to be just as over-protective as you are.”
“Mmfff.”