Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil

Hey, so this is meant to be another one-shot. I know it's kinda long...but I hope you like it. As for people who have read Retribution, I'm really sorry for taking so long to update. I'm sort of stuck on ideas right now, but I hope that you do stick with me! This one-shot is post RE5. It talks about how some of the main characters of the Resident Evil series have been affected by all the horrible things they've seen throughout their careers. So, please enjoy!

He tosses and turns in his sleep. Tormented by everyone, by everything he's killed in the past years. Sweat pours from his body, soaking his bed linens. He lets out a mumble, unintelligible to others, but to him, it was a cry for help. His arms flail about fighting off unseen attackers while his legs do the same. Suddenly, he wakes up, not knowing where he is or what's going on. Only until he sees the familiar belongings and it registers that he is home. Home. He lets out a small scoff. Home should be a place where you can rest your head. Where your fears are forgotten. Where your family comes to greet you at the door. None of these things happen for him.

He can't sleep without seeing the dead rise up and blame him for their deaths. Their soulless eyes boring into him. Their cries for help causing him so much pain inside that he just wants to curl up and die. He wipes the sweat off his forehead but notices the soaked sheets around him and swears. Another set of bed linens…dirtied.

He's contemplated quitting his job. Besides, it was because of his job that he was going through this…hell. But the more he thinks about it, the more he pushes that thought into the back of his mind. He couldn't quit. Who would protect all these people? His neighbours, the kids that always played in the park across from his apartment complex…they were the reason why he would put up with all the killing…all the blood and horror.

He lays back down in his sweat soaked bed, his breathing evening out just a little bit. Staring up at the white ceiling, flashes of his time in Africa come to him. Blood…viruses…Wesker. The name just caused his body to tense up. Flashes of his death returned to him often. But no matter how many times those flashes came up, he had this odd feeling inside of him. This…gnawing feeling that something was wrong. That Wesker wasn't dead.

Wesker not dead.

That thought alone would cause him more horrific nightmares than the ones that usually plagued him. The thought that that monster was out there, plotting a new scheme to bring his sick plans of world domination to fruition…He just didn't want to think about it anymore.

His concentration is broken by a sudden sharp pain that courses through his arm. He lifts up his left arm and examines it. He had broken it during another mission. His superiors had allowed him some off time to heal up. How generous of them…

What he didn't know or maybe had just forgotten, was that his sister was in the other room. She had insisted on staying over. She never got to see him enough was her excuse. And what if he needed extra assistance thanks to that broken arm? She had heard his mumbling and the constant shuffling around of his body. In fact, she had been woken up by them.

The door to his bedroom had been left slightly ajar. She watched as he lay amongst his sweat soaked linens just…thinking. Thinking…probably back to all those missions he's had. She had read the reports. Of course, she wasn't BSAA, but being friends with a US Agent had its perks. She couldn't believe that Chris had gone through all that and come back in one piece. How did he just smile and give her hug when she went to pick him up at the airport? How was he able to just push those memories away? Apparently, he wasn't able to.

She hadn't told her big brother this, but she had nightmares too. Not as frequent as him, but flashes of an infected Raccoon City would suddenly inject themselves into her daily life. She would freeze and wait until the spell had passed. Her co-workers noticed this and always asked if she was ok. She would always reply with a yes and smile. The fakest smile she could muster at that point. Yes…everyone had been affected by Umbrella's viral testing whether it was directly or indirectly.

Even Jill, being the strong-willed person she was, couldn't hide the fact that the time in Africa had changed her. Claire wasn't blind nor was she stupid. She could see the shame that Jill had in her eyes. Jill could never look at Chris for more than a minute before having to turn her eyes to something else. Anything else. Claire was pretty sure that Chris had noticed it too and just chose to keep his mouth shut. And because her brother chose not say anything, she chose to keep quiet as well.

"Are you just going keep on watching me?" her brother's voice broke through her thoughts. He finally sensed her presence.

Busted.

She slipped into the dark room, the only light provided by the full moon sitting in the clear night sky. "Sorry…" she whispers.

Her brother continues to stare up at the blank ceiling. "It's ok. Did I wake you?"

"No." she lies, "I just thought I'd check on you."

There's a moment of silence before either of them speaks again.

"You're such a liar." He finally says and then gives a heavy sigh. "I have to do laundry again…"

She moves over by the bed as her brother moves over, making room for her to sit. "Don't worry. I'll do it in the morning." She stays silent, but only for a few seconds. "Was it Kijuju? Or something else?"

She would easily catch his lie, so he knew there was no point. "Kijuju…" his reply a mere whisper.

She only nods, unable to think of any words that would comfort him.

"Hey…" he says, "Have you noticed Jill…you know…how she can't look at me for more than a minute?"

Her breath hitches and he already has his answer. "Yeah…I have. She just needs some time to heal, Chris."

"I guess…How's Leon?"

How was Leon? Claire rarely speaks to the agent anymore due to his constant missions. The last time she met him was for coffee and to receive Chris' last mission report. She remembers how frazzled the agent looked. He was trying hard to keep his calm demeanor and cracked a couple jokes here and there, but she spotted the bags underneath his eyes. When she mentioned them, the agent went quiet and muttered, "Nightmares…you know how it is…"

"Leon…he's going through some things right now. Personally, I think he's working too hard."

"He should take some time off then."

Claire couldn't help but laugh a little. It was a sound piece of advice. If only her brother would take that advice as well…

Chris looks to his sister, their eyes meeting. "Do you think I should quit the BSAA?"

She's shocked for only a second as pros and cons rushed through her head. Pro: He's saving the world. Con: He could be infected by a virus at any time, he has to kill innocents that end up being pawns in some sick bastards game, all those memories become firmly implanted in his brain and more…Yet, despite the cons outweighing the pros, she found herself saying one word that surprised even her.

"No."

A look of confusion forms on Chris' face. "No?" he repeats.

"No. You joined the BSAA for a reason. You wanted to help people. And you're doing that. All the hell you're going through…it's…for the lack of a better expression…for the good of mankind. If you hadn't killed Wesker, the world would be infected with Uroborous right now. If you and Jill hadn't gone to that Umbrella facility in Russia, the B.O.W. they were creating would have been unleashed…So, no I don't think you should quit…"

Chris only nods and then gets up.

"Where are you going?" asks his sister.

"I'm gonna take a shower."

Claire nods and gets up to leave. Just as she has one foot out the door, she hears her brother speak.

"By the way Claire, how did you know all that stuff? Those reports weren't released to the public."

She shuts her eyes and lowers her head.

Aw, crap. Definitely busted.

Thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it! Any small review you can leave would be much appreciated! Thanks! :)