AN: Good gods. It's been a long time, everyone. Such a damn long time, and I can't apologize enough. A lot has gone on in my life throughout these past several months, a lot of changes, a lot of bad. :/ Even now as I'm writing this author's note I know I'm not in a good place, mentally and emotionally, but...I made a promise folks. A promise to finish this story, and I will, somehow. Because looking back on all of your lovely reviews and my written chapters, I realized I created something that made me happy, that put me in a good place for a while before I had to go back to real life. These characters, this FANDOM has made dealing with the crap in my life easier, and so have the other fandoms because we're all passionate about something.

So, I'm going to finish this story. It may take a while and I might be pretty rusty for a while but lol, for those who will travel on this road with me, I welcome and thank you and love you for it. Thank you for your patience, and your support.

Ah, and this chapter I wrote a while back but never posted for some reason or other.

Warnings: Rusty writing, rusty writing...

Disclaimer:*sniffle* I don't own Resident Evil or any of these guys, except for my OCs.

Hours passed. Wesker knew because the African heat had faded as the sky darkened, but without the sun's position, for of course it had to be obscured by clouds, the wandering man had no way of determining exactly how much time had passed.

But at the very least, Wesker had finally arrived at the outskirts of one of the villages, abandoned of course, courtesy of the Majini and even more recently, Chris. The fact that Wesker was now strolling through the very place that the BSAA agent and his partner had ran through with desperate speed and unrelenting gunfire was…strange, to say the least. Ironic, in that it was his former marksman that allowed him to walk safely through the village ruins, but still strange.

Ah, the past. How often do you allow yourself to immerse yourself in those memories? There it was again, that voice. Young, amused. Curious. It was irksome.

Not quite as often as our marksman, that is for certain, but you must admit…there is a certain allure to walking down memory lane. When there was a possibility that it could have been you running down these streets with him at your side, as partners.

"You realize it was I who created this?" Wesker lifted an eyebrow, scanning said streets that were now directly in his path as he was now inside the village. Now, where could he find some decent clothing? And weapons. Water, should of course have been his priority but with his strength and speed diminished, his thirst would have to wait to be dealt with at a later date.

…you were inside a volcano. You're dehydrated.

"This area is not secured." Wesker muttered, feeling his body tense. "Perhaps the village is not so safe after all."

…would it honestly kill you to take care of your own needs, your actual physical needs instead of your paranoia? Dehydration is the enemy, if on the very slim chance you are indeed attacked, you will stand a much better chance of survival hydrated and more lucid than you are right now.

"I will not be any more lucid if I continue conversing with you," Wesker muttered and glared straight ahead, feeling his fists clench at his sides. The heat was fading, but it was still affecting him much more than it should, coupled with his dehydration that he was all too aware of, he really wouldn't last long in a fight, if there was one. Or, to be more accurate, flight.

Not to mention, the voice in his head. He would call it his subconscious except it. Did. Not. Sound. Like. Him.

Too human. Too young. Much too expressive.

But, not a complete idiot.

So Wesker mentally shifted his list around of necessities and headed towards the many huts lining the dirt streets and entered one that appeared marginally less ransacked than the others. He was greeted with the sight of overturned tables and chairs as well as crates, some smashed to pieces, and one that was actually whole. The lid surprisingly, had been removed, and when Wesker peered inside, he was greeted with the sight of plastic. Clear. And white.

"Water bottles and a first aid kit." Wesker murmured, and his eyes narrowed. "Just lying around?"

…too good to be true.

"Agreed."

If this were a horror movie…or a video game…

Wesker didn't bother to snort in derision at the childish comparison because there wasn't any time. The sharp breeze of a blade cutting through air and the scent of advanced decomposition had barely been enough of a warning to allow Wesker to throw himself to the side, roll to the wall and stand up just as fast, gritting his teeth as the world spun around, and the large blurry shape in front of him doubled and then lost its twin when his vision cleared.

Well, fuck.

Wesker completely agreed with his mental voice's statement.

Standing right in front of him, was one of the Majini.

The crate was smashed to pieces, wood had been sent flying everywhere as the weapon had cut into it with brute force. A dead hand took hold of the handle of the axe and lifted it, and turned towards Wesker.

"How did you first official meeting go?" Adrian asked, causing his subordinate to briefly pause at the entrance to his office, the facility's clinic and then sigh.

"Fine," Ted muttered, willing his heart beat to slow down. You would've thought I'd be used to him popping up to ask for updates by now. He thought, still uneasy about the whole scene with Chris Redfield and Albert Wesker. It had nothing to do with how obvious it was that the two were at it like bickering children, always resulting in a scuffle or an exchange of insults, but more with the fact that there was a storm just waiting to roll in and complicate things between the two former STARS members.

Even further.

Albert Wesker was a highly intelligent and manipulative man. Ted had read the Kijuju report, had known that to have gotten Excella Gionne involved, not only would her belief that she would gain from such a partnership would have to be absolutely certain, but she would have had to be certain that Wesker was capable of emotion. He had emotionally manipulated her, for why else would such a powerful woman have stayed at his side, dutifully injecting him with the serum if not under the delusion that he trusted her, perhaps even had feelings for her other than perhaps lust, if even that was possible?

Ted had seen the familiar interaction between both men in the cell, had felt the intensity of grey eyes as Ted touched Chris. Perhaps it should have made Ted feel better, made him believe that maybe Chris' mental and emotional health would perhaps improve now knowing that his former captain was alive, but…

The scars. The shattered man. If Wesker was not careful, if Wesker proved Ted and Adrian wrong and did in fact seek to destroy Chris any further then—

Ted swallowed. He would have just sentenced an innocent man to a slow and painful death.

"Ted?" Adrian's concerned voice broke through the cloud of worry that the redhead engulfed himself in. Blue green eyes met icy blue and looked away.

"Ted," Adrian pushed off from where he had been perched on the medic's desk and stopped in front of him, catching the war of emotions in eyes that were like the sea. A calm sea, more often than not. But right now…

"I wonder," Ted said, after a moment, refusing to meet the gaze of his superior. "I wonder if I was wrong to allow this to happen?"

"Did something happen?" Adrian asked gaze sharpening, body tensing ever so slightly and then Ted glanced up and shook his head.

"A scuffle. Nothing serious but it just hit me, Adrian." Ted steeled himself and continued. "I left an emotionally shattered man who attempted suicide in a cell with Albert Wesker. The Albert Wesker who was his former captain, had fought with on more than once occasion, the Albert Wesker who with anyone who joins forces with him, ends up dead. And these people were much more emotionally stable than the man whose medical records I looked through."

"I just—" The medic shook his head. "If something happens to Christopher Redfield, something I could have prevented." He took a deep breath. "I don't think I'd ever forgive myself."

Throughout the speech of the normally quiet man, Adrian felt himself waver between how much to tell Ted about the situation, the true extent of it. It was only a matter of time before Ted figured it out for himself anyway, but still. He was upset, that much was clear, with himself, with Adrian too, though of course the medic would never admit to it.

"Things…are not what they appear to be." Adrian said finally, after more silence. "There is a lot that we do not know, that not even Christopher Redfield's loved ones know about his past in regards to Albert Wesker."

Something flickered in Ted's eyes, but Adrian could not identify the exact emotion, could not pinpoint that moment when everything had clicked into place because it had failed to, not when Ted saw his patient as that, a patient.

And Albert Wesker and the one who led his patient to being one in the first place.

It was times like these, when Ted displayed such protectiveness over his patients that had Adrian wondering how it was that the redhead was here with them in the middle of a highly illegal operation and not working in a hospital saving more lives…a topic that no one in the group touched on, nor on any of their previous lives.

"If I was certain that Chris was in life threatening danger by being in close quarters with Wesker," Adrian said quietly, and Ted's eyes widened. "I would never have allowed them to stay in the same cell. Please believe me, Ted."

Ted nodded and swallowed. Adrian looked so sincere, so earnest to reassure him that once again, he looked away, reminding himself that the man before him was his captain, goddamnit.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat and headed towards his desk to get started on paperwork due next week that was suddenly the most important task in the world. "I have faith in you, Adrian. Always."

And behind him, blue eyes sparked at those words and quickly resumed their usual amused expression. It wouldn't do after all, to allow his subordinate to know how much those words meant to him.

Weirdness and still more weirdness. But still, I will march on, lol. Reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading and until next time! *waves*