Chapter Text
“Hey, uh, Captain?”
Albert Wesker looked up from his writing. He had been checking over the details on an IT bulletin that had been distributed to all supervisors, discussing some new upgrades they were going to install in their offices. “Yes, Chris?”
“Who’s the kid?” Chris Redfield, his point-man and the source of a tiny, yet infuriating workplace infatuation, stood in the doorway of his office, jabbing his thumb out at the young boy sitting in a corner quietly drawing on the back of some discarded paperwork.
Wesker let his gaze fall upon the boy for a moment. He was small, with close-cropped red hair and a spray of freckles across his ruddy cheeks. He was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that did not fit properly, and a pair of battered running shoes. He was drawing figures on the backs of the pages which had been bound for the shredder, then angrily scribbling over them in black Sharpie.
He was doing that with every page.
Wesker was beginning to wonder if he should send the child down to the department shrink.
“This is my son,” Wesker eventually said, when Chris began to speak once more, cutting him off before he could ask the question again.
“You have a kid? Since when?!” Chris demanded, coming into the room properly and plopping himself down beside the boy, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo! How’s-houuf!”
Chris wheezed as the boy reared back and punched him violently in the stomach, standing up and moving away to angrily stare out of the windows.
“He does not like to be touched,” Wesker offered, and Chris rubbed his stomach with a grimace.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He looked over at the boy. “Sorry, bud, I didn’t know.”
Silence.
“So, uh, why the sudden take-your-kid-to-work day?” Chris got up off the floor, moving carefully around to the side of Wesker’s desk, grabbing a chair and sitting.
“Jake, punching someone will only get you into trouble. You should only do it when you have no other choice.”
Chris frowned. “How ‘bout ‘it’s not nice to hit’, Captain?”
“Do not undermine my parenting, Christopher.”
“Hey, kiddo. Jake, right?” Chris waved at him, while the boy was looking up.
Jake nodded in silence.
“You’ve seen the vending machine outside, right? Here, knock yourself out.” Chris tossed a handful of wadded-up dollar bills and Jake gleefully caught them out of the air, stumbling over his shoelaces as he headed for the door.
Once they had a moment in private, Chris looked at Wesker. “I didn’t know you were a dad.”
“Neither did I.” Wesker admitted. He hesitated, then continued. “In my past life, I traveled quite a bit. While at one of the places I was stationed for a time, I had a brief relationship with one of the other staff members. I had no idea I’d fathered a child, but a few weeks ago I received a certified letter containing a copy of his mother’s certificate of death, along with directions for his own legal paperwork in order to formally acknowledge him. I picked him up from the airport a few days ago.” Wesker looked again at the mess of angry blacked-out figures on the floor. “He barely speaks to me. I do not know what to do with him. I cannot leave him in my house all day, but obviously he cannot come here on a daily basis and the school year is almost over. I have already enrolled him for next year, but there are several months between now and then. I do not have time to research and vet local daycare centres.”
Chris scooted over to the pile of drawings and picked one up after the other, frowning. “I, uh, I don’t think you should just plop him in any old place, especially if he’s gonna punch other kids or teachers. Have you tried talking to him?”
“What about?” Wesker inquired, watching as Chris returned to the desk with a few of the pictures.
“Seems like a pretty angry kiddo to me,” Chris pointed out, gently patting the art. “These are all the same woman. I’m guessing it’s his mom. You know, I know you’ve read my file, but my sister an’ I, our parents died when she was still a kid. I mean, she was a teenager, older than Jake, but bein’ angry and sad…that’s pretty easy to see.”
“Well, go on then. Give unto me your parenting advice,” Wesker replied dryly.
Chris huffed. “I’m serious, Cap, you let him go around like that and he’s gonna get into trouble. You’re a cop! You know what’s gonna happen if he doesn’t straighten himself out.”
“He is five years old. I am sure that school will instill some discipline in him.” Wesker calmly responded, and looked up at Jake, who was now re-entering the room, one candy bar hanging out of his mouth with two more sticking out of his shorts pocket.
Despite now being laden with chocolate, he still looked angry and sullen. Wesker frowned. Apparently, the gift of free sugar was not enough to get him into a better mood. There went bribery.
“Hey, kiddo! Looks like you picked up some good stuff! Did you grab the M&Ms? Those are definitely my favourites,” Chris offered.
Wesker watched in awe as Jake stopped, paused, then turned to him and opened up his pocket. He pulled out the little bag of M&Ms, then came over, and placed them in Chris’ outstretched hand.
“OH! I didn’t mean you should give ‘em up, heh! I was just thinking, maybe we could share?” Chris smiled as he tore open the package and let the little candies spill on to the desk. “You got a favourite colour? Y’can have all of those ones.”
Jake silently began piling the red M&Ms in one corner.
“I’m gonna take the green ones, ‘cause that’s my favourite,” Chris said, even though Jake had stopped watching him. “Hey, we should ask your dad if he wants some candy, too!”
Wesker was about to protest, when Chris shot him the dirtiest look he’d ever seen in his life. He quickly stopped himself, eyebrows raised. Oh.
“What’s your favourite colour, Captain Wesker?” Chris followed up, his voice as cheerful as if he’d never stared down the Captain like an angry rhinoceros.
“Blue,” Wesker replied, and reached out. The three of them sorted the M&Ms packet until everything was split up by colour, and Chris slid the unclaimed candy back into the wrapper, folding it and giving it back to Jake.
“You can have these later,” he pointed out, and the boy nodded.
Then, very quietly, he said, “Thank you.”
Wesker blinked. It was the first time Jake had spoken all day. Yesterday, all he’d said was “that hurts,” when Wesker had been scrubbing his hair in the bathtub.
“Heh, you’re welcome.” Chris held up his hand for a high-five. Wesker initially scoffed, but his internal voice was silenced when Jake, after a moment of hesitation, reached up and returned the gesture with a light clap of his palm on Chris’. “Ewww, melted chocolate. Go wash your hands.”
Jake looked at his palms, then scurried off out of the office again, presumably to use the bathroom.
Wesker stared at him for a full minute. How the fuck did you do that.
Chris was grinning at him, leaning his chin on his elbow on the desk. “Can I get extra-credit for my work today ‘cause’a that?”
“Extra credit?” Wesker scoffed. “Chris, I-”
“I wanna help,” Chris interjected before Wesker could finish his thought. He fiddled with his hands for a minute, then looked up. “Uh, if you think that’s okay, boss.”
Wesker considered this. To be completely honest, he’d been considering asking William and Annette, but hadn’t been sure of the timing. It was harder to get a hold of them these days with everything going on at Umbrella. He still had a lot of his own work to do, and the sudden imposition of parenthood wasn’t helping.
“It might be helpful. Very well.” Wesker nodded. “But I will not be referring to you as ‘Uncle Chris’.”
“Aww, you’re no fun at all.” Chris stuck his tongue out, and Wesker just stared at him.
He’s lucky he’s so stupidly adorable.