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Adult Jill Valentine had nightmares that were very different from her child self.
As a little child, the fear had come from losing her parents in a crowd, or being ‘attacked’ by the doctor or the dentist. When she got older she stopped being afraid of needles, but always knew in her nightmares that it was gonna hurt, it was gonna kill her, so she just kept running, trying to find hiding places and wait out the big scary thing.
There was so much more blood in her adult nightmares. And the screaming. The sound of other people screaming more than her own, just the awful, high-pitched noises of an adult human being ripped apart right behind her as she pushed her way through a crowd. It felt like digging her way through a swamp. She knew she should try to save the people around her, but she couldn’t. She just had to get away. She had to save herself, and she hated it.
Jill hated herself for getting away.
She always woke up before the monsters got her, gasping for lungfuls of air. She was usually tangled up pretty badly in her blankets, fabric wrapped around her legs or arms and sometimes even tightly binding her chest as she’d thrashed in her sleep.
She hardly ever got back to sleep after those times.
Some nights she’d toss on a jacket and go for a walk outside. Now that she wasn’t in Raccoon City anymore, she knew she was the scariest thing on the block. She had nothing to fear from civilians, anyway.
Some nights she’d try to eat something. Snack. Tea. Sit and read a book or magazine until morning. For a while she’d considered asking for night shifts so that she could try to sleep during the day. Maybe sunlight would prevent her from having nightmares while she slept.
It was half past midnight, and Jill was dreading going to bed. She was already tired, but she’d had a rough day. She’d had to re-read some reports that had given her pretty strong, flashbang-like memories of the worst nights of her life.
She was standing on the balcony of her apartment, looking out over the ledge. The city looked peaceful from up here.
Jill looked down idly and wondered how long it would take for them to clean her off the pavement if she just…pushed up a little with her toes.
Nah, she thought. It would just transfer her nightmares to someone else, and she couldn’t do that to an innocent city-worker.
Her new cell phone jiggled on the rattan table behind her, buzzing and chirping out a weird little chiptune. Chris had gotten it for her, to keep in contact while they figured out what to do. He was determined to finish taking out Umbrella once and for all. He usually didn’t call her this late at night, though, and she frowned as she turned, bending and flipping it open to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Hello, Jill.”
Her blood went cold. The voice sounded familiar. “Who is this?” Jill demanded, pulling the phone away to look at it more clearly. There was a little readout of numbers on the screen, but nothing else. No name, meaning it wasn’t someone in her contact list, small as it was.
“You don’t remember me? Why, I’m disappointed in you.”
Things slid into place. Her grip on the phone tightened, despite her suddenly sweaty palm. “Wesker. How the fuck did you get this number!?” She’d only had it for a few weeks. Chris had-
“An unsecured line is easier to hack than I would have thought. Not to mention I was already monitoring Redfield.”
Jill grimaced. “He told me you’d survived. That you’d…gotten a hell of a lot stronger.”
“I have,” said the voice on the other end of the line.
“So…let’s cut to the chase. Why did you call me? You looking for a fight or something? Because if you are, fuckin’ bring it.” She looked inside, spotting her gun in its holster on the hook by the door. She could get to it in about three seconds if she sprinted. “Let’s go. You and me, payback for what you did to us.” She slid open the door and stepped inside.
“You sound so eager,” the voice purred. It was a bit static-y. The connection wasn’t always great inside her apartment. “My master of unlocking, my bomb tech expert. My sweet Jill Valentine.”
“I was never your ‘sweet’ anything,” Jill hissed, grabbing her gun and holding it, pointing it down, cell phone in the other hand. She swept her eyes around her apartment; nothing out of place here. “What do you want, Wesker?”
There was a rushing sound on the phone, and Jill held it away from her ear with a frown. Suddenly the line went dead, and she heard the sound of boots on her balcony.
Jill turned and fired two shots. The thing dodged both of them as they flew past into the open air of the night. He had her disarmed and pinned to the wall by her throat before she could fire a third time.
Her hands flew up to his fingers, legs thrashing and kicking. She knew she’d only have a few seconds -
He dropped her. Jill wheezed as she knelt on the ground, glaring up at him.
“You know,” she panted at him, heart pounding in her chest, “you could’ve just knocked.”
“Don’t try to be funny, it doesn’t suit you.” He hauled her up by the back of her neck. She just glared at him, keeping her hands free and ready.
“Have you already killed Chris? Was I next on the list, or am I just bait?” Jill swiped at him, fingernails like claws, and he dodged, spinning her around and pinning her wrists behind her.
“If you stayed still and listened to me for a moment, you will quickly find that it is neither.”
Not like she had a choice. Or any other bright ideas. Jill stopped struggling and when he gently pushed her forward, she walked.
He guided her to the couch, and she sat. He sat down on the other end, as she drew her legs up and watched him like a hawk, finally able to take him in.
Albert Wesker looked roughly the same as he had before. At least, out of uniform. He was wearing dark pants and a sweater. He was taking off his boots, and Jill quirked her eyebrow as he saw him resting his sock feet on her couch.
“Uh. Thanks, I guess?”
The biggest difference now, the thing that marked him as not like her, was his eyes. They were a brilliant red-amber, with catlike slits for pupils that widened and contracted under the different lighting in her apartment.
They widened when he looked at her.
“I would like to make you an offer.”
“I’m not joining Umbrella, so you can forget about that,” Jill remarked coldly. “And I’m not interested in whatever fucked-up crimes you’re interested in doing in the future, no matter what dirt you think you have on me.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
“The hell I will.”
“But that’s not why I’m here.” He tilted his head at the wall, flicking his eyes at the hallway to the bedroom at the back of her apartment.
Jill’s cheeks went hot. “Oh you motherfucker I am not sleeping with you!” Without thinking, she threw one of the couch pillows at him. He caught it effortlessly and handed it back to her. She grabbed for it, then hugged it to her chest, as though it were a shield to protect herself with.
“Hmm-mm.” He made a noncommittal sound. “I’ve been monitoring you since you moved here.”
Her blood ran cold again. “You knew all along? You’ve been watching me this whole time.”
“I never want to lose track of my best STARS agents,” Wesker smiled at her, and it made her feel like prey. “But you don’t seem to be getting any sleep lately.”
“Maybe it’s because I was being watched?” She snarled at him, but he just shook his head. Jill settled back into the couch cushions as he continued to watch her in silence. “It’s just nightmares. Nothing a good shrink couldn’t handle.”
“And yet you have not sought out the services of one,” Wesker stated mildly. “Nor have you tried sleeping pills.”
“Those things don’t work.” She scratched the back of her head. “Chris told me so himself.”
“Ah, yes. Chris. Well, we can talk about him later.” Wesker steepled his fingers. “I have come to you with a different solution.”
“Still not gonna fuck you.”
“I am no longer your supervisor. You cannot get fired for it.”
Jill spluttered and laughed. It was almost absurd how far away from the point that was, that she couldn’t form an actual response to it. “Oh my God, Wesker.”
He produced a needle from his pocket. She staggered back off the couch. “Put that fucking thing away, don’t you dare stick me with whatever the fuck that-”
“Calm down, it’s still capped.” he tapped the obvious yellow covering. “This is to help you sleep.”
“I doubt that.”
“Are you aware of the concept of ‘lucid dreaming’? This compound allows one to have complete control over their unconscious mind. You will be like a child in a playground with one single dose of this.”
“I don’t believe you. You’ll just fuck me up with that.”
“If you don’t trust me, I can dose myself first.” He pointed out. “To show it has no negative side effects.”
“Why do you wanna help me sleep better, anyway?” Jill cautiously came back to the couch. She eyed the needle, then watched as he pulled a box of little vials out of his coat pocket.
“I have my reasons.”
The more they sat on the couch, the more Jill realized how fucking exhausted she was. Her limbs were feeling heavier and heavier by the moment. She glanced at the clock over the kitchen sink, wincing at how late it had gotten.
Her eyes ticked back to where Wesker sat on the other end of the couch. He tilted his head and stretched out his arm, offering her the box.
Jill reached out and took it, silently reading the little vials. She didn’t know all the names of the compounds, and it wasn’t like they had a complete ingredients list. She shook it, and the clear liquid sloshed around, creating bubbles before settling again.
“So violent,” Wesker observed, standing up and offering her his empty hand.
One final hesitation, then Jill reached out and let him pull her to her feet.
They walked down the hall to her bedroom, and Jill settled on her bed. She’d been wearing a tank top. No sleeves to roll up. “I still wanna see you stick yourself first.”
Wesker obliged her. He removed his sweater, picking up the needle and uncapping it, drawing out a dose from one of the little vials, and injecting his upper arm. Aside from the intake of breath when he pricked his skin, he didn’t seem affected, and Jill watched as he stretched his arm out after, opening and closing his fist. “See? No harm done.”
She still made him wait for another few minutes before relenting. “Okay.”
Wesker pulled another needle tip out of the box of vials, tearing through the paper-plastic packaging and preparing the dosage for her. She stuck out her arm, and he held her hand in his while he placed the tip against her skin.
His hand was warm.
The injection went in cleanly, and after he pulled away and cleaned up the kit, Jill held her finger over the spot and thought about many things. She watched him put everything on the dresser opposite the bed. He moved around the room like he knew it - of course he did; he’d been watching her. He probably had her routines and layout memorized by now - turning out the overheads and just leaving a bedside lamp on before returning to the bed and gently laying her down.
Jill resisted the movement at first, but it was too much, and she laid her head down on the pillow.
“If I wake up and you’ve hurt me, I swear to God, Wesker-”
“Shh. Sleep well.” He was tucking her in now, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. Instead of leaving, though, she felt his weight dip behind her, and he was - putting an arm around her? But he was on top of the blanket, how was he -
Jill was running through her dreams again. She was cursing and yelling, trying to make it all behave.
Of course he fucking lied to me, she seethed, as she fought back waves of infected with her bare hands. All she had to show for it was a sore arm. He had probably doped her out of her mind so that he could-
“Need a hand, Valentine?”
“Wesker!?”
He was in the dream too, but glowing faintly, like he was being projected in. He tossed her a weapon, and she began moving through the horde, leveling the crazed monsters and heading towards the group of survivors. “If you’re gonna help, let’s go!”
The dream turned on a dime. With Wesker’s dream-self at her side, Jill finally felt powerful again. In command. In control. It didn’t go like it had before; she didn’t fail. She didn’t drown. She wasn’t lost to despair. She was able to protect, she was able to save people this time. Over and over they ran from building to building, taking out enemy forces and preserving the innocent lives within.
Finally, they sat on top of an old auto body shop, picking off the last of the straggling infected.
“I don’t know how you’re doing this,” Jill remarked, as she took aim and blew the head off something with way too many limbs, “but thank you.”
“I wasn’t forthcoming with how the drug actually worked because I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” dream-Wesker admitted. Jill knew on some primal level that he wasn’t a figment of her imagination, or something conjured by her unconscious mind. He was in her head, this Wesker, they were sharing the dream. “It took a long time to refine this compound.”
“No wonder you insisted on sticking yourself first.” Jill chuckled softly as she came back and sat with him in the dream, resting on the rooftop. She felt good. She felt oddly relaxed now.
“It’s not so much about controlling the events as it is about not being alone,” he agreed.
“Tomorrow night,” Jill joked lightly, “let’s check out one of your dreams.”
“You do not want to be in my head,” dream-Wesker deadpanned, a grim look on his face.
“You just don’t want me to see all your evil little plans,” she shot back, punching his shoulder lightly. “Fine then. You can keep me company as long as I wake up not feeling like death warmed over.”
“Glad to hear it,” his glow was fading as the sun pinked the sky in her dream. “I think it’s almost over now.”
“Oh.” She looked over to where his gaze fell, then sighed and moved in closer. She was tired even in the dream, it seemed. Maybe that was a sign she was going to wake up soon. “Kind of a shame, almost. I was…having fun…”
Her eyes closed and her head slumped to his shoulder. She could feel his hand coming up to stroke her cheek, caressing the side of her face, tucking her hair behind her ear -
Jill opened her eyes. She was awake now, in bed, before her alarm, feeling better than she had in months. Years, even.
Wesker was where he’d been in the dream, tucked to her side. He was smiling, warm and soft, his eyes lit up in gold by the sun peeking through the blinds.
Despite herself, she smiled back.
“Good morning.”