Author's Note: Oh hell yeah! Another RE story and a brand new one! Alright, let me tell something about this one:

1) It's post-RE5, which means it's my own take on what happens next (everyone's got theirs)
2) Some of the characters are completely made up for the plot's sake and everything's gonna be a bit more complicated. Some of the OCs are related to canon characters but that doesn't make them Mary Sues or Gary Stus, alright? So read before judging, people, it doesn't hurt.
3) This is (beware!!!) going to be a love triangle, okay? So if you don't like it, don't read it. Also, it's going to be mainly psychological with a bit of action and the inevitable romance a love triangle thingy involves. For starters, it's going to be a ChrisxJillx???? Aha! Surprise character, not telling who it is until later on. You'll have to stick with this one to find out.
4) Rating may go up from T to M (sometimes).

5) Enjoy. Please, do enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. The updates will come weekly and as such, since I have eight chapters completed, it'll cover up two months of updates. I have exam week coming in barely one week, so thank goodness I won't fall behind with updates.

Without further adeu, I leave you to start reading Resident Evil: Dawn of Uroboros.

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs // 'New Perspective' does not belong to me, but to Panic! At The Disco. Lyrics taken only for recreational use, no profit obtained.

Summary: Post-RE5. The fight against Uroboros is still ongoing. Chris and Jill have returned form Africa safe and sound, ready to start anew. But after a new mission goes wrong, everything takes a turn from the worst: Uroboros has risen again... and in more ways that one.

I

Home, Sweet Home

'Stop there and let me correct it, I wanna live a life with a new perspective...'

"Jill? Jill, for God's sake, say something!"

After having knocked a few times on the bathroom door without an answer, Chris was starting to feel frustrated. Again, he knocked twice on the door, leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, carefully listening to any sound Jill made from the inside. A few seconds later, he heard her exclaim in frustration.

"Goddamnit!" Her voice, muffled and angry, was accompanied by a sigh. "Why does a woman's hair have to be so difficult to fix sometimes?!"

Chris laughed at her words, and now he could imagine her gazing at him with an angry glower as if the wall was invisible. Jill had a nasty temper sometimes, and this was one of the many times she put it on display. And when that happened, Chris knew it was best to stay away from her or, at least, start only the necessary conversations. He would overlook that rule this one time though.

Before he could say anything else, Jill stated, "That's it! I'm having a haircut again!" Suddenly, Chris' smile faded away and it was replaced by a look of surprise, his eyes growing wide.

"Oh, no! Don't you dare do that, Jillian!"

Jill snorted. "You're not going to change my mind, Christopher!" Her retort made Chris cringe a little bit after registering the use of his full name; she'd called him that way such a scant number of times he still wasn't used to it. He sighed, blinking a few times to avoid snapping at her. Man, she was hard-headed!

"C'mon, don't do this to me… You look better with long hair, Jill! Do me a favour and leave it as it is, okay?"

"That's one of the many favours I'll grant you, and you still owe me the rest," she snapped.

"Jill, you never cease to surprise me. I never thought you were so childish," Chris mock-scolded her.

"Ha ha, very funny." She gave out a false laugh. Chris smiled.

"But I guess you have a point," he nodded in agreement. "It's not like I understand what it means to have long hair." After saying that, he froze and his eyebrows went up in disbelief. As if she had read his mind, Jill burst out laughing inside the bathroom, almost unable to control her laughter.

"Oh… oh God…" She spoke between spasms of laughter. "Oh, man… I'd better pull myself together…" After having collected herself again, she said, "That was the point I was trying to make, but anyway."

Chris swivelled around towards the door as if he'd just been poked with a spear, and stared at the door, one eyebrow raised. "You'd better not have touched the scissors!"

He heard Jill click her tongue. "Shut up, idiot. I'm not cutting my hair any time in the years to come."

"I thought you'd decided on the contrary just seconds ago!" Chris whined, knowing he was irritating her. He heard the sound of the hairdryer for a few moments before Jill gave a sharp exhale in satisfaction.

"Alright, I'm comin' out! Hold on tight to your seats, gentlemen!"

Much to his surprise though, Jill didn't storm outside with one hand balled into a fist, which would be directed either to his gut or his face; that choice was her own. Instead, she slid the bolt off the door and stepped out with a towel covering her head, as if she were a sheepish girl in high school who didn't want her striking hair to be noticed. She met his gaze with an even one of her own, mirth dancing in her eyes and a small smile playing on her lips, barely noticeable.

Chris blinked a few more times before revealing the question he hid in his gaze. Jill didn't answer it, her gaze averted from Chris', and he slowly smiled as he realized what Jill was hiding. Once he got a closer look, he could very well see a few locks of her hair uncovered by the blue towel, locks of brown hair.

"You dyed it back!" he remarked once Jill slipped the towel off her head and revealed her brown tresses.

"Yeah, I'm finally the same." Chris noticed the trace of sadness in those words, and he frowned in concern as he bit the inner side of his lip, losing a bit of his glee.

No matter if it had been four months or a year since the incident in Kijuju, since the incident at the Spencer state, Jill would still be haunted by those events till the end of her days. It was senseless to try and lock it away, to erase it from her mind, because the skeletons in the closet would once again make noise eventually. If she couldn't forget, there was always a way to avoid recalling those memories: she'd just make new ones. That's what she had done.

Due to that method, which had worked for her as well as for Chris, they had 'reshaped' themselves into different people. Of course, the change hadn't been radical but it was in their demeanour and their overall state where the differences had been most noticeable. They regained the cheery and outgoing attitude that characterized them, the icy splinters of despair and sadness in their hearts having melted away. Besides, knowing there was no sun that would cast Wesker's shadow upon them again was the most relieving fact of all.

In the beginning, it had been horribly difficult to take care of Jill. Many sleepless nights had been the ones which Chris had spent watching over her as the after-effects of being administered the P30 chemical took their toll on her. For a week, she had been in the worst of states so far, the paleness the sickness caused adding up to her already ghostly white colour. It had made her look as if she were made of porcelain, as if she would shatter with nothing more than a brush.

The after-effects were accompanied by trauma, usual nightmares and hallucinations, and that had happened to Jill as well as to Chris, who had taken it easy to get over them. Jill had even relived experiences in her sleep, commonly waking up with her heart racing in her chest in the middle of the night and, as such, losing sleep as well as -sometimes- waking Chris up. Those four months proved to be hellish, plagued with horrible flashbacks and memories coming back to haunt them.

Everything eventually returned to normal. In those four months, Chris had contacted his sister, Claire, much more often, to her joy. He was informed of the many things that had transpired since they last saw each other, such as how she had ended up with that Kennedy guy -Leon, he remembered suddenly. At the news, Chris' sense of protectiveness had kicked in and, at the other side of the phone, he'd cocked an eyebrow when he'd heard Leon speak in the background. Fortunately, things hadn't been as bad as he'd thought.

And now, that sense of protectiveness had kicked in much more fiercely this time, and not because of someone else. It had been because of him.

Alright, let's be honest: Chris hadn't seen it coming, even if the 'high-school boy' type of crush on Jill was more than obvious, hence the many kind gestures towards her, his always sincere but somehow sheepish smiles and the butterflies in his stomach he'd felt sometimes when in her company. Every time he denied that fact in front of a mirror, telling himself there was nothing more beyond their friendship, he just had to facepalm, and quite literally.

His crush was also the reason why he'd offered to stay with Jill, and Claire, who had a knack for figuring out her brother's feelings many times, had wished him good luck with quite the sly tone, and that had made Chris flush a faint shade of red. Jill didn't refuse; she needed someone to spend time with and, as Chris had eventually come to know, she had developed a phobia of being alone if there was no remedy to it.

Finding herself alone triggered flashbacks and voices in her head, all reminding her of her traumatic experience while in captivity. Fortunately, Chris was always like the wind that swept everything away and the light that guided her out of the darkness. And she'd be eternally grateful for that.

They had moved to his place in New York, and in the few moments they could, they had transformed the apartment into a habitable place. Jill was surprised to see it wasn't like she imagined, the typical messy kind of apartment, but still there were things out of place and missing 'survival deffos' -as Chris had called them- such as food and clean furniture. Of course, God hadn't looked at that place since he'd left it for good. With a few days work, the apartment was decent and then came Jill, with whom Chris had agreed to go shopping in the days that followed. With everything finished, they even looked like a--

Damn, not that. Not that again!

"Chris?"

Jill's voice brought him out of his reverie, and he jolted back to reality with a gasp. "Yeah?"

"Don't space out on me," she said, waving a hand in front of his eyes.

"It's okay, I was just thinking," he simpered. Then, he laid a hand on top of her head. "I'm just glad our Jilly's back." Jill folded her arms across her chest, adopting a poker face.

"Do I really look like your pet?" she grumbled, then sighed. "Oh well, I'm going to the kitchen." She corkscrewed from under Chris' hand and went past the sofa and into said room. Chris felt a small pinch in his gut.

"You're not mad, are you?"

Silence.

Then Jill poked her head around the threshold, a false angry expression on her face. "I'm going to kill you," she remarked sarcastically. "How could I be mad at you? You're right after all, Chris: even though it's taking time, I'm slowly coming back." She winked an eye at him and disappeared into the kitchen again.

"That's nice to hear!" Chris rejoiced as he fell in line behind her.

Thank God I didn't lose you.

Pushing the thought away -in spite of having to agree with it-, he asked Jill, "Wasn't it my turn to cook today?"

Jill scoffed. "You can't even cook a decent omelette, Chris."

The comment made Chris swivel around sharply and glare at her, offended. "Excuse me! For your information, not all men have lousy cooking skills, Madame La-Chapelle. How did you think Claire and I sustained ourselves when we were alone?"

In spite of her laugh, Chris knew she had sensed him hesitating for a brief moment. Talking about his deceased parents was nothing he never did with ease, but who could anyway? He didn't bring up the matter again, switching to another topic with a flicker of his hand. Jill caught his hint.

"Madame La-Chapelle?" she echoed, reaching for a frying pan inside a nearby drawer. Chris nodded as he collected a pair of spatulas.

"La-Chapelle was French master cook of the seventeenth century. Since you claim to cook much better than me, I thought that was the appropriate nickname for you today," he explained light-heartedly, "Even though he was a man." He then added with a shrug of his shoulders.

Jill tilted her head to one side, amused. "So, what's the recipe today?" she inquired, hands on her hips. His eyes looked up, as if studying the ceiling, and then he snapped his fingers, having found the answer.

"I was thinking of fried rice with vegetables and fish," he replied. "Any suggestions you'd like to voice out?"

"Only one," Jill stated, still skeptical. "Don't leave my kitchen in a mess. I'm sure you're a tragedy waiting to happen."

"Who do you think I am? Alright, let's make a bet: if I don't make it, I'm yours to tease tonight, even torture if you want to… although with moderation, eh? Don't get any funny ideas," he proposed, leaning forward.

"And what happens if you actually make it?" asked Jill, even though she already knew what Chris would say in return. Her suspicions were proven correct when he gave her a crooked smirk.

"Then it's you who I get to tease," he said simply, his tone challenging. Jill measured his words with a teaspoon, careful enough not to reply right off the bat. But she wasn't one to back away when a challenge was thrown at her, so she agreed with a firm handshake.

"Deal."

Chris nodded again. "Well then, you set the table whilst I get on with this. You're going to regret having accepted the deal, I'm telling you."

Jill gulped, her eyes widening and her back to Chris.

"Uh… don't scare me. Yours is an evil mind, did you know that?" she joked.

"I try my best to be evil sometimes, just so you know. But I can restrain myself when I'm around you, don't worry."

"Chris, you're not helping. Shut up," Jill snapped categorically from the other room, muting the clinking of the forks in her hand. Chris cleared his throat to avoid a laugh and got to work.

Jill, on the other hand, set the table in less than five minutes and then gathered her hair up in a neat ponytail. She gazed at her reflection in a wide mirror above a cabinet and couldn't help but to stare at it, her brow creasing.

It was so very different to see herself in such a state of concern given the circumstances. She was living a new life, a life free of despair's clutches, but she still couldn't shake off an uncomfortable feeling of trepidation. Right off the bat she knew something wrong was going to happen. Not wrong, but horrible.

Superstitious? Perhaps she was. Unsure? Sure as hell not.

A while later -Jill didn't know how long he'd taken- Chris stepped out of the kitchen, two plates of warm food in his hands, and Jill smiled at him. Remembering their deal, she instantly trotted to the kitchen and found it tidied up, the used pans and utensils in the sink and what was left to return to its place was all grouped next to the cooker.

From the beginning, Jill had known her chances of winning the bet had dropped somewhere near zero, but after seeing the kitchen for herself, the chances went over zero and, if possible, beyond. She half-turned to Chris, offering him a willed smile.

"Looks like you did it," she remarked, unable to say something else.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Jill," Chris replied good-naturedly. "Although I almost messed up a couple of times," he added, but that was of no consolation to Jill.

They sat down at the table and began to eat. They didn't talk much, as usual. At meals, they were the most silent, yet not uncomfortably. It was a peaceful and relaxing silence, only disturbed by the usual clings of the forks and knives.

Once they were finished, Jill couldn't help but to recline in her seat, exhaling. "It didn't seem much, but I'm stuffed. You've proved you can cook, Chris. I admit my defeat."

Chris smiled faintly and took a sip of his water.

"I'm victorious once again. You should know better than to mess with me."

"Hey, it was you who made the bet in the first place!" Jill protested, straightening in her seat. "Don't lay the blame on me."

"Well, that's true, but you were deal less than a second later," Chris argued nonchalantly. "But anyway…" He let his voice trail off, dropping a hint Jill caught less than a split second later.

"Give me a break, Chris," she said as she stood up in frustration. "I want you no less than two metres away from me; do it and I'll kick your ass."

Folding his arms across his chest, Chris lifted his eyebrows.

"You wouldn't."

"Wanna make another bet?"

"You'd lose again," Chris simpered as he imitated her action. They were about to bicker good-naturedly again when Chris' phone rang and vibrated inside the pocket of his jacket. With two long strides he was next to it, and he picked up.

"Redfield."

The voice that spoke sounded very familiar, "Chris, this is important."

Immediately, Chris put the phone on speaker and approached Jill, his brow creasing. "Alright, tell me."

"The Captain called up a meeting this morning at 0900 hours. He mentioned something about Uroboros again, and he selected you and Jill for this next mission," said Sheva with a calmness that tried to hide the uneasiness in her voice. Chris exchanged an anxious look with Jill, whose eyes had widened, and he pursed his lips.

"You were called to the meeting?"

"No," Sheva denied. "Graves told me that it was imperative that nobody else knew about this, so he decided to speak to me first. I don't know, he seemed... very distrustful of something, I don't know what. He asked me to contact you, and I would've done it sooner if the telephone system wasn't so bad around here. Graves should've sent you all the information through e-mail by now."

"E-mail? Well, it's a less riskier method than using the phone, yes," Chris agreed. "Okay, we'll check it right now. Thanks for calling."

"You're welcome. Just a question, how's Jill doing?" inquired the African woman, her tone a bit more chipper. Jill smiled sadly and replied in Chris' place.

"I'm doing much better, Sheva, thank you for asking."

They could imagine Sheva smiling on the other side of the phone. "I'm glad to hear that. Good luck, okay?"

An unsettling silence followed after the call, and Chris slowly raised his gaze to Jill. He could see the change in her demeanour; her breathing was slow and calm but it betrayed the anxiety she was feeling. Her blue eyes were clouded by doubt and uneasiness, and Chris gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay, Jill?" he asked in an undertone. Jill took a few moments to reply with a shaky nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." With a worried glance at him, she added, "What do you think this is all about?"

"Well, she mentioned Uroboros, so possibly another deal or something," he proposed, going over all the possibilities they had faced before. "Who knows what it can be though? We're open to suggestions." Then, his eyes narrowed and he clenched his fist. "Damn Gionne! There had to be two of them instead of one, eh?"

"There's no way around this kind of situations," Jill said with a shake of her head. "It's either killing the one responsible or you end up screwed. Remember what they did to us after we got back from Africa? Tricell made it unscathed thanks to Gionne's prevarication skills."

"Just like Umbrella…" sighed Chris. "Yeah, I remember. It reminded me of Raccoon City and Irons, but it was with Tricell this time. One thing's for sure: Gionne bought off the government's help; it wouldn't be an up without a down otherwise. Falsified files, no solid evidence of Excella's activities…"

He crossed his arms.

"Well, we can't complain. The Consortium's sudden decision in favour of disbanding Tricell got everyone with their pants down."

"Excuse my humour, but isn't this just becoming a little too repetitive?" Jill inquired rhetorically. "It's always like this…" Her voice trailed away, and she lowered her head. Then she shook it again, her expression hardening. "Let's worry about what we're going to do first. The end will depend on how this situation develops; let's take it all step by step."

Chris agreed with a short smile, "You're right." He chuckled. "Keeping worry on the leash as always, huh?"

She then added with a sad smile, "I guess that teasing will have to wait, right?"

Chris averted his gaze and clenched his fist. Uroboros… the first image they could relate to the name was Wesker's, and Chris knew Jill had had the same thoughts as him, hence that sudden bolt of trepidation that had struck her. The battle against Wesker had been only that, a battle, but the war was still on.

After arriving from Africa, the BSAA made the Consortium aware of the company's plans and the decision of disbanding Tricell was made instantly. Of course, the company had defended itself against the Consortium's accusations quite skilfully, accusing the deceased Excella of the company's predicament.

At a certain point in their argument, Wesker's name came up. It was then when the Consortium knew of Wesker's interferences with Tricell: he had made the African branch independent of the company and had kept the facility standing with the funds they collected from the deals with the black market, along with his own money. Irving had been an important factor in the funding because of his connections to other dealers.

The validity of the statement was confirmed but with reluctance, and Tricell made it out of the meeting relatively unscathed. Then, two weeks later, the Consortium took action and Tricell was immediately disbanded, meeting its end. Just as Chris had said, it caught everyone off their guard and the decision caused a period of hyperactivity between black-market dealers, who yearned to put their hands on the samples that were beyond Tricell's and the BSAA's control. Uroboros and Las Plagas had been the most popular.

As such, in late May, bioterrorist activity resurfaced in several locations of the world, which meant Tricell was narrowly related to it. And so it was. All the incarcerated bioterrorists had referred to a single person: Marco Gionne, the new CEO of the newly-restored bioweapons development division. That division had been previously headed by Excella, and now her brother had followed her steps out of revenge. The activities had gone unnoticed, until Marco had put his plans into motion.

If Marco was as dangerous as Excella had been, then the BSAA was about to face something greater.

The BSAA wasn't there just for fun though. Chris and Jill had a new job to do, and they would see it through.

A/N: That's a start, things are going to get serious from here on in. As you can see, I've made up Marco Gionne to be the potential next villain in this story. Tricell's back, the BSAA's in trouble and Chris and Jill better watch their backs. You'll see what comes next, stay tuned!

Reviews are appreciated!