Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil.
So, while you guys wait for my lazy ass to update ATTWN and submit the new first chapter to the Breathless sequel, I decided to inform you all that I am most certainly alive and still in touch with all of you wonderful people. ALSO… I have writers block.
Wesker hurled a cooler full of ice and snacks into the back of his black Cadillac. Hoping to whatever God was up there that it wouldn't leak and stain his upholstery. The scorching sun glared off his sunglasses and the heat was sucked in from his black t-shirt. Slamming the trunk shut he turned around only to be bombarded by a man in a white lab coat, clutching a stack of papers for his dear, young life. Wesker sighed heavily, wondering why, on his day off, no one could leave him be.
"Mr. Wesker!" The man slowed to a stop and thrust the numerous papers into Wesker's tanned face. "Mr. Wesker! There are expense reports to be finished immediately! You have a meeting tomorrow at eight at HQ, and you have to meet Doctor Fletching for an overall scan of the test data tonight!" Again, another heavy sigh expunged from Wesker's lungs… He pushed the papers aside and walked towards the front of the car and the man proceeded to follow him.
Wesker turned around and clapped his hands together in a prayer like notion and brought the tips of his bare fingers to his lips, smiling wickedly he said, "Dalton… today, I'm taking my family to the beach. I promised my wife and daughter." Dalton's frown deepened, he had just wasted a measure of Albert Wesker's very valuable time. "And am I know to break promises, Dalton?" He asked politely.
He shook his head nervously. "No… sir."
Wesker smiled happily and slapped his hand down on Dalton's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "Good," he stated calmly. "That's what I thought."
And as if he had called them telepathically, Claire Redfield and their five year old daughter, Charlie, came down the path from the house. The compound was a military base combined laboratory quarters. For Umbrella employees and their families only.
Dalton laughed nervously when Claire waved at him, "Hey, Dalton!" She said cheerfully.
He nodded politely, "Mrs. Wesker."
Claire laughed, "How many times to I have to tell you? Just call me Claire!"
"Mr. Dalton!" The little girl's voice filled the tensing atmosphere and seemed to break all bonds of awkwardness.
"Hey, kiddo," Dalton greeted warmly as he bent down to her level.
She scooped up the crumpled papers from his arms and studied them intently. "What does daddy have planned for today?" She asked him curiously.
"A ton of stuff that he has to get done before tomorrow," Dalton said cautiously.
Wesker glared at him and raised a blonde eyebrow.
"But, he's gonna have a ton of fun with you today!"
Charlie nodded, "Yes he is!" She agreed.
"Charlotte," Wesker called. "Come on, sweetheart."
Charlie smiled, "Bye, Mr. Dalton!"
And a frustrated Dalton watched the black Cadillac roll out of the compound gates.
XXXXX
The beach, like Claire suspected wasn't that busy today, for it was a Monday and the time was around one o' clock. She looped her arm into Wesker's and leaned into his solid stride. He bent down and kissed her lips, smiling as he did so. Charlie kicked sand with her bare feet and made bird sounds when she saw a seagull mooching for human food. The blazing Miami heat was just what Charlie wanted; she knew that on days like these, her father would take them to the beach to spend some time out of the lab and with his family.
Claire detangled herself from Wesker and walked beside he daughter. "Where do you wanna sit, sweetie?" Just then, Charlie was swept off of the ground with a ticklish giggle and planted on Wesker's shoulders, towering over the sands and sea. She held her hand up to her forehead, scouting for a sound spot to spend the day. She pointed to a patch of white sand flanked by black smooth black rocks as the waves crashed steadily upon them. "Right there, daddy! It's perfect!"
They camped their lounge chairs and towels, cooler and beach bag right where Charlie had requested. Wesker eased himself into one of the chairs, wincing from the sore pain he would forever carry in his abdomen, thanks to the Tyrant. Claire straddled him and made him flinch. She cupped his face in her hands and shook her head. "Oh my poor baby!" She teased and Wesker smirked.
"Give it up, woman. You'll never get a whine out of me." He said mockingly.
Claire kissed him and it lingered on his lips. "I'll get you one day, Mr. Wesker."
Wesker chuckled deeply, the vibration tickling Claire's skin. "I'll hold you to that, Mrs. Wesker." Claire tugged away at his black t-shirt, nipping his earlobe. He sat up and stripped off his shirt, leaving him in his black swim trunks. Claire slapped her hand down on his shoulder and smiled.
"Now that's more like it." She squirmed off her husband and unzipped her yellow dress, only to reveal her sleek, sexy body in a ruby red bikini.
Wesker smirked and took off his sunglasses, "You still continue to amaze me, Dearheart."
"Oh please," Claire scoffed jokingly. "You just want some of this."
Wesker laughed, "So badly."
Charlie interrupted her dad unknowingly. "Daddy?" Wesker turned to face her.
"Yes, darling?"
"Can we make a sand castle?"
Wesker sat up slowly; he could hear his brittle ribs creaking in his sensitive ears. "Of course, sweetheart." He followed his daughter to the shore, leaving Claire to tan to herself with Wesker's expense reports on a book, twiddling a pen in her slender hand.
They both knelt into the sand, Wesker started to smooth the grains for a foundation while Charlie gathered wet sand in a pile. They made the base a square, aside from the last time when they made a rectangle, and dug a ditch for a mote and a canal leading off the shore so the waves could fill it naturally. Sandy towers and grainy pillars towered high in their biggest sand castle yet, but they would always end up topping the last the next time they would come. Charlie decorated the top of each tower with a white feather and adorned the sides and edges with seashells.
"All done!" Charlie stated triumphantly.
Wesker wiped the sand from his hands, "It looks perfect, sweetheart."
Charlie smiled and hugged her father. "It always does when you help me." She buried her face into his neck. "I love you, daddy."
Wesker stroked her blonde hair, "I love you too, Charlie." There was a moment of pure silence, as if the world wanted them to relish in this rare moment. Father and daughter, bound by a thick band of companionship and a love that was unbreakable no matter how many bullets it would take.
Charlie giggled as Wesker poked her side and she guarded her skin with her small hand and it only made Wesker poke the other side, making the little girl burst with the cutest laughter. He swept her up and walked into the blue water of the ocean, smelling the salt in his nose and feeling the cool refreshing sensation on his skin. He waded through the water until it reached the elastic of his swim trunks, still holding Charlie on his hip, her feet brushing the water. He set her down in the water and she floated about, watching her feet kick under the ocean. Charlie excelled in many things; swimming, reading, her vocabulary was quite vast, as well as her social skills. She was like any other five year old girl, save for the fact that she was raised by a perfectionist and a freedom fighter. Although, one trait was lost to her mother; Charlotte Redfield Wesker, was human.
Did it upset Wesker? Not in the slightest, in fact, he had hoped and prayed that the child turned out normal. He didn't want it to be infected and be forced to subject it to a battery of tests just to keep the little heart pumping. It was unnatural, for he vowed to give it everything he never had.
A childhood.
Albert Wesker never relished in the luxury of having parents who cared. They were busy adults with a son they never planned on. He was ignored; the only person who really cared was the nanny. An old woman from Scotland who scraped up the job just as he was born. She was more a mother than the woman who gave birth to him.
Charlie swam circles around her dad, latching onto his dangling arm when she needed a quick rest. Going unnoticed to her, Wesker was caught in thought. Staring out to sea with a longing gaze fixed in his arch-fiend eyes.
"Albert…"
Claire waded behind him; she could feel the emotion radiating from him. Claire knew that his life would always be more than lab tests and contracts. It was a puzzle that he alone must put together. Every piece would be presented to him, yet it would be his responsibility to make them fall into the right place at the right time. Wesker's puzzle had only its outline, the rims of reality barricading the situation he was in. He had what he wanted, a family and he was happily married. Yet, somewhere deep down in his core, he wanted to break out of the chains that were holding the wounded wolf down and seek something greater than himself. And maybe one day, she would wake up and he would be gone. Set out to find what had enticed him to live.
Claire touched his burning skin and he flinched, turning to face his wife. "You're doing it again, Albert."
Wesker bore his demon eyes into her cobalt blues. "Sorry," he stated simply. They made it back to shore and Charlie wanted her parents to bury her in sand.
She giggled as Claire smoothed the sand on her buried feet. "Mommy that tickles!"
The girl was buried under golden sand and she wiggled her arms, trying to free herself. Wesker dug around her, and she erupted from her sand trap, roaring like the dinosaur she always liked to pretend as. She stomped the sand back into the ground and chased after seagulls.
"Daddy! Can you guess what kind of dinosaur I am?"
Wesker laughed and shook his head. "Why don't you give me a hint?" He asked as he eased himself back into his chair.
"Ah, ok. It's big! And it eats meat! And… and it was forty feet long from its little brain to its huge tail!"
"T-Rex."
She dropped her arms to her side and climbed onto his lap. "Ah, daddy. You get it every time."
He smiled and moved a stray lock of hair from her green eyes. "Well, it is your favorite dinosaur after all."
Soon after, Charlie fell asleep on Wesker's chest, snoozing soundly in the evening breeze.
"How do things look?" Wesker asked Claire.
She rolled over on her back and handed him the packet of paper. "Yours and Fletching's budgets have to be cut four percent next year if you still want Tricell to ship you the subjects. They raised their prices on that shit."
"I think we can manage."
"And, Tricell demands a cut of next years term profits."
"How much?"
"Six percent."
Wesker rubbed his strong jaw and contemplated on money. "Let them have it."
"But what about Fletching?" Claire asked, twirling the pen in her hands.
"I'll deal with him."
XXXXX
Wesker drove the Cadillac back to the compound, the radio leaking a soft melodic tune that rung to the classical genre. Claire gazed out of the window, watching the orange glow of the street lights pass by in a whip of creamy light. The cool air conditioning waded through the car, the smell of leather brushing the very tip of her nose. Her husband had his shaded eyes focused on the road before him. She knew the cogs in his mind were grinding, for she would catch him clenching the steering wheel tighter than usual, his knuckles brazing white.
"Is Charlie asleep, Albert?" She asked him groggily.
He glanced into the mirror, catching a glimpse of his greatest creation yet… his own flesh and blood.
His daughter.
He nodded, "Yes." He turned his head to face Claire whose head was resting on the door. "And so are you." He sighed happily, smiling in the dark of the car.
A/N: Just a quick, cute fic that I thought of the other day. I like to entertain that fact that Wesker could be a wonderful dad and a wonderful husband. He's just so oriented. :)