Disclaimer: The Resident Evil characters are not mine.

A/N: Lots of notes at the end of the chapter, 'cuz I dunno when to shut my trap. Actually, I'd like to think they're important. Know what else is important? Feedback. So, I offer an overly belated dedication to Sokulski for always reviewing, and usually within a few hours of me updating. :) You are made of awesome.

Maine, United States
Simmons Estate, B1 Lab

"Ah, hell," Jake muttered, upon seeing Leon step into the hallway.

"Glad to see you too, Jake." Leon jerked his head to the side in an attempt to direction Jake's attention to the room he'd just come from. "Come on."

"You here alone?" Jake couldn't help but ask. He tried to see what was in that room behind Leon but to no avail.

"Not exactly. You?"

Jake smirked. "Not exactly."

"Come on. I actually am glad to see you. Can't reach Helena right now." Leon gestured to his ear, to his earpiece. "I need you to do something for me."

"Great." Jake stepped into the room.

What the hell was this place? Upstairs, it was the creepy old mansion nobody ever lasted an entire night in. The basement looked like a prison from the hallway. This room was more like someone decided to remodel the old torture chamber and turn it onto an infirmary and just gave up halfway through.

Gurneys with leather restraints hanging from the sides, a bunch of electronic equipment for monitoring who knows what, and cages big enough for full-grown men to fit in. That was exactly what was inside of them, too. Frozen in place—statues that looked like they could come to life at any time. From past experience, Jake knew they could, and that sooner or later, they would.

That wasn't it, though. The thing that seemed the most out of place had to be her. The nerdy little girl in the giant lab coat.

Somehow sensing what Leon was going to say before he had a chance to say it, Jake pointed to the girl and insisted, "Hell no."

Unfazed, Leon made his request anyway, "I need you to get her outta here."

"I'm not here to be a damn babysitter."

"You're not here for anything, Jake," Leon pointed out. It may have been the truth but that sure wasn't gonna win him any favors.

"Yeah? Then why the hell you tryin' to get me to do your dirty work?" Jake asked, smugly.

"I wasn't trying to imply you don't have your reasons for being here. They're probably a lot like mine. I take it Sherry's around here somewhere?" Leon asked, suddenly. He gave it a moment before adding another question to the mix. "You know she's not here on official orders, right?"

"I know. Doesn't bother me at all." Jake stopped speaking and plastered on a shit-eating grin. "You?"

Realizing he'd hit a dead end, that dropping Sherry's name hadn't gotten him anywhere, Leon decided he'd better get back to business. "This girl has information that could make this case for me. I need to be sure she gets out safe. I have another target to pursue. So I'm asking you: will you please escort her out?"

Jake's smirk was gone. "You understand what you're asking me to do?"

Leon nodded. "I'm asking a civilian to participate in an official government mission."

Jake decided to answer his own question when it became clear Leon didn't get his meaning. "You're asking me to haul ass outta here without Sherry."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" the girl suddenly refused.

"It's alright. You can trust him," Leon insisted.

She scoffed, "I don't trust you."

Leon stepped in front of her, demanding her to look at him as he spoke. "Take a look around this place. You cooperate with us or you aren't gettin' outta here. You got it?"

The girl fumed for a moment but finally nodded. She had to have known she was on a time limit. Soon as the boss was done with her, she'd be too much of a liability to be left alive. If government agents and a presumed hired gun were storming the place, things had definitely taken a turn for the worse.

What did she think she was she gonna do when the shit hit the fan—swim for the mainland?

She looked to Jake. "...Alright, fine. I'll go, but—"

"Well, Halleh-friggin-lujah."

"Hey," Leon called out and when Jake ignored him, repeated himself. "Hey."

Jake gave Leon a stone-cold stare.

"No one's gettin' left behind, alright. Helena's still around here somewhere, too. I'll just feel a little better about things knowing this one's on the outside when I get my hands on her boss," Leon explained.

"Yeah." Jake's single-word reply was an affirmative but his tone contradicted the statement.

Leon looked to the pint-sized researcher. "You know your way around here, right?"

The girl nodded. "We can access both houses in several places from down here. But we should leave through the staff quarters. It's the old guest house." She paused and added, "I'm pretty much the only one who lives there now. So we shouldn't have to worry about running into anyone if we go through there."

Leon let out a little snort but didn't actually say anything. He didn't need to. The only question he'd have asked would've been why and he already knew: Colette had probably used everyone else that'd once stayed in the guest house as a test subject.

The girl was speaking again. "We just need to go south from here. I'll have to disarm the security system or we won't be able to get into the guest house."

"What kinda security are we talking?" Jake asked, his tone telling that he already didn't like the sound of things.

"It's a pressure sensitive panel at the foot of the stairs that lead up to the main floor. It's supposed to prohibit unauthorized access to the basement area."

Leon snorted again.

"Then I'm guessing it was you who set it off earlier? You probably felt the floor sink beneath your feet. Sometimes I think security does a better job of keeping me down here than keeping anyone else out."

"Hang on a minute," Leon began. "Did you tell your boss someone tripped the gate in the guest house?"

It was the girl's turn to snort. "As much fun as she's having with this, she didn't even care. Didn't even want to send anyone to check it out."

"She's a little short-staffed. Can't really blame her," Leon muttered.

Jake gave an 'I don't get it' look followed very quickly by an expression that made it very clear he'd since figured it out. He pointed to the cages. "These guys?"

"You about ready to move out then, Jake?" Leon asked, figuring he was capitalizing on a pretty good moment.

Jake didn't reply to Leon, instead, he looked to the girl. "You ready?"

She shook her head.

"Christ. What is it now?" he muttered. This was why he didn't take escort jobs.

"I told you, I have to open to gate first, and all of Ms. Simmons'—all of my research is here. You're gonna need that information, right?" She looked to Leon.

He nodded and gave a grudging, "Make it fast."

The girl scurried around the room, flipping switches here and there, settling, at last, on a computer terminal off to the side. She clumsily shuffled through a thick stack of papers, obviously looking for something. The shuffling stopped and she held something between her index finger and thumb: a memory card to back her data up on.

The speed of the download, rather, the complete lack of, made it clear there was a ton of data being backed up. Nobody would go so far as to wish for a distraction to make it seem like things were going faster, still, that was exactly what they were going to get.

A crumbling, crackling sound begged everyone's attention. There... inside one of the cages. A guard-turned-test-subject was breaking free from his shell, and just a few seconds after that, his cage.

The worst thing about it was that it still resembled the man it had been before being infected—twice, by what Leon had so recently overheard. Something about it all reminded him of that video he'd seen beneath Tall Oaks Cathedral, of Ada, emerging from a Chrysalid. He'd still never gotten an answer as to what it all meant. It couldn't have really been her he was seeing on that old tape...

That was the only time he'd seen something human-looking break free from its cocoon. No, not quite... Deborah Harper. Something that still looked like the person it had so recently been, but obviously wasn't.

It all spoke of a much larger plot. One Derek Simmons had hatched, and that Colette was continuing forward with, in his absence. Unless... Leon was suddenly reminded that one of the main reasons he and Helena had been sent to this place was that Colette Simmons been overheard saying Derek Simmons wasn't really dead. By the experiments going on here, this had been in the works longer than anyone was aware of. Colette herself may have just recently arrived on the island but this had taken some time... A couple of months versus the week or so their intel made it out to be.

Whatever was really going on, whatever this thing really was...

Despite its modest appearance—that of a gooey, stumbling, naked man, truth be told—it had to be pretty strong, to effortlessly throw its cage door across the room the way it did. But once it was free, it seemed content to approach at a snail's pace.

It would've been far less creepy if the thing had just attacked. It tilted its head to the side, almost curiously. Its dead, filmy eyes seemed to be looking around, observing. Its veins were more prominent, too, and whatever was pumping through them seemed awfully dark.

"Keep it away from her!" Leon shouted.

"Yeah, no shit!" was the reply Jake shouted back.

"And my data!" the girl yelled. She'd hardly gotten the words out before Jake roughly shoved her behind himself.

"Damnit. We can't let it destroy the computer, or the power supply, either. Just keep her covered, Jake. I got it."

The BOW... It was looking back and forth, as if following the conversation, as if it could still comprehend spoken word.

Well, J'avo could do that, to a certain extent. They could obey simple commands, give simple commands among their own kind; they could obviously use weapons... But this was different. J'avo kept the ability, kept that shred of consciousness, this was more like someone who had lost it and was trying to get it back.

"The fuck are you waitin' for, Hero?" Jake shouted.

"Tryin' to... get a feel for this guy," Leon responded. It wasn't a lie. There was something way off about this thing and attacking it without a strategy would be bad news for everyone.

"Shoot it already!"

"...Shoot... it... already—"

Did it just mimic Jake?

Its voice was crackly, gurgly, like it was trying to speak for the first time in too long—like someone trying to play a long out-of-tune instrument. It sort of swayed as it walked. Its big, milky white eyes were unblinking, as it began advancing toward Jake and the girl.

"...Shoot...it...already—" the BOW repeated.

"Happy to oblige," Jake agreed, through gritted teeth, raising his Nine-Oh-Nine and firing a round into its head.

The creature bled something dark and tarry, and staggered back as Leon moved in behind it and fired off two shots, both lodging in the BOW's back. The wounds began to ooze, a slow but very noticeable trail of black creeping along the curve of the BOW's spine.

"...Shoot...it...already—"

Why did it keep repeating that?

It continued toward Jake, only momentarily fazed by the bullets. It wasn't moving very quickly, though, and wasn't doing much the way of offense. Until...

It was spreading its arms. Was it finally going to attack?

The computer beeped. The data files had all finished downloading. Nothing anybody could do about that before they did something about the mystery BOW, though.

"His arms!" Jake called out.

Leon couldn't see anything odd about the creature's arms from his position. He moved around to get a look at the thing from the front. Sure enough, now that its arms were open... That had to be its weakness. Some sort of bulb—black and swollen-looking—had formed inside each elbow, and it looked raw, irritated.

Jake landed a shot to the presumed weak spot, popping the growth like an overfilled water balloon, and the BOW hissed. It wasn't talking now. Instead, it used its uninjured arm to cover the wound for a moment before lashing out and trying to knock Jake's gun out of his hand.

Still, only a defensive move...

The creature's other weak spot was exposed just long enough for Leon to fire off a round. The bullet hit its mark and the bulb, or sac, or whatever it was growing from inside of the BOW's right elbow ruptured and more tarry blood spilled.

It fell to its knees and murmured something neither Jake nor Leon could hear well enough to understand before falling backwards and ending up splayed out on the floor, in a pool of its own thick, dark blood.

"The injection sites!" the researcher girl suddenly piped up. "That must've been where he was injected. Most were injected in the arm, but it varied by subject. The number of injections, too. Some took more than others before the procedure would work."

"Oh, so he was a success, huh?" Jake practically spat.

"Jake—" Leon attempted to cut him off. It was a half-hearted effort. He looked to the girl. "Your data's all backed up. Better get going before more of these guys wake up."

They were almost out the door when it happened. Leon's prediction didn't exactly come true but it was close enough that his statement could easily be counted as a jinx.

It was actually the unidentified, tar-bleeding, mimicking BOW that decided to wake up. Both of its elbows bent completely backwards with an audible crunch as new limbs grew in. Two large tentacles sprouted from its back, one for each bullet Leon had put there. Leon and Jake both had a feeling about what would happen next. They'd fought their fair share of J'avo—easily enough to venture a guess.

The BOW's head didn't disappear, wasn't popped open or pushed aside. Instead, the skin, if one could even call it that, began to peel away and fold down on itself, leaving dark, sticky flaps lying limply at the BOWs shoulders and revealing a sea of unblinking, glazed over eyes in both the front and back.

Should've known better than to think it'd be over so easily.

Maine, United States
Simmons Estate, B1 Security Room

Well, this was different. A far cry from the crude accommodations Ada'd been given a short while ago. Maybe not a far cry... A step up, though. The room likely served as a security office for the lower level. A couple of lockers along one wall, a file cabinet against another. There was only a single computer in the small, drab room, but several surveillance monitors had been mounted on the wall above a long desk. Most were turned off.

Ada went for the computer, Piers for the lockers.

She heard one clank open, followed by a shuffling sound. More clanking as she began turning the monitors on. Piers had finished with locker one and moved onto the second one. The monitors began humming and blinking to life, those that were inclined to work, at least. The first room to catch Ada's eye was the one she'd been kept in. Good thing nobody was on duty or they'd have seen Piers kick in the door and bust her out. They'd have been caught in no time.

"I think this belongs to you," Piers stepped up, a crossbow in hand, and offered it to Ada.

"And the rest?" Ada asked, determined not to sound impressed.

"It's all there, or so I assume. Got anything?" Piers asked, nodding up at the monitors.

"Not sure," Ada admitted.

They watched the various feeds in silence for a moment.

"Wait, there's someone in that room," Piers pointed out, suddenly.

Sure enough. It was a research room—no, it was more than that. Chrysalids, caged for the moment, and what looked like a child, by Ada's standards, at least. A teenager, most likely, and female, or just very confused, by the pigtails. The door to the room was open and she was looking out but she wasn't moving.

Then he was there... Piers had said Leon was on-site. He hadn't seen him, but knew he was there. Now they were both seeing him. Leon was there, and so was Wesker Jr. They'd both just come into the room from whatever hallway led to it.

Was it far from where Ada and Piers were now?

For the moment, the two seemed to be talking. Muller had just pointed at the girl. He didn't look happy. More presumed talking followed. Then the pigtailed girl began to run around the room, obviously looking for something amongst the mess, settling on the computer in the corner.

Oh, Leon, always attracting trouble...

One of the Chrysalids was hatching.

"He—it still looks human. I know it's not, but is it...?" Piers sort of asked. It was a pretty roundabout way of posing a question for someone who was usually so straight-forward.

Ada understood why, though. Piers was trying to ask it without asking it: was this what he had to look forward to if Colette got to him?

"Who's to say what it is," Ada murmured. "You've seen plenty of the things that were supposed to turn into me, haven't you?"

"So that's what she's got in store for me then?" There it was.

"And then some."

"And that's what happens when it doesn't work?" Piers was asking.

"Possibly." Ada sighed. "To think, it's so much better than what happens when it does."

The... whatever it was, was heading for Wesker Jr. as he stood in front of the pigtailed girl, likely some child prodigy The Family bought or kidnapped or hatched at some point. The—well, it was technically a BOW, wasn't it?—the BOW spread its arms, seemingly in preparation for an attack.

"We're not gonna just sit here and watch," Piers insisted. He didn't sound entirely convinced, though.

"Ye of little faith, Piers," was all Ada said in reply.

Leon could take care of it; he'd better be able to, at least. There were several more Chrysalids in that room, after all.

"We've got bigger problems, or did you forget?" Ada reminded him.

Leon had maneuvered his way around front again. It seemed like he and Wesker Jr. had a handle on things. Somebody had just done something to the BOW that it didn't like...

Piers protested, "That's not the point at all." He leaned forward, getting in close enough to force Ada's gaze away from the monitor and toward him.

"Then what exactly are you doing here, Piers?"

A defeated "Never mind," was the reply Ada received and Piers backed off.

Ada turned her attention back to the monitor. The creature was on the ground, on its back, and not moving. "See? What'd I tell you?"

"We found your equipment. We should get going." If Piers meant to sound stoic in that moment, he failed miserably. His tone dripped with disappointment.

Ada'd be lying if she tried to convince anyone it didn't bother her. She supposed it was a good thing she was an excellent liar. "After you," she offered, smirk forming on her lips. It felt tight and out-of-place. She didn't like it.

Piers ignored her but it wasn't out of stubbornness. He'd leaned forward and was staring intently at the monitor. "It's getting back up."

"What?"

So it was.

"Let's go," she said simply.

Piers nodded.

Ada gathered the rest of her equipment from the locker, maybe borrowed a few things as well, and slammed the locker door shut. Piers seemed oddly pleased about it all. He probably figured she was stocking up for battle. He took far too kindly to the idea, didn't he?

It was true, though. Ada figured she (and Piers) could possibly offer their assistance to Leon and Wesker Jr., if they ended up in the neighborhood. It wasn't a guarantee, though. She had no idea how far that child doctor's lab was from their current location. Still, the girl could be useful...

Piers was already out the door, glancing back and forth before taking a few careful steps forward before calling out, "Clear."

Ada stole one last glance at the monitors, prepared to follow right behind him, until she saw movement on another one of the screens.

Well, well, well... Ada couldn't help but wonder if—more like when—their paths would cross, hers and Chris Redfield's...

Ada knew Piers hadn't come alone. At least, she hoped he hadn't been so foolish. She'd been wrong about who he was here with, assuming Sherry Birkin to be involved, but still. He'd already very obviously confirmed that wasn't the case. Piers wasn't dressed to the nines as in times past (as if it ever seemed to do any good) but he was wearing a BSAA vest.

Of course he'd gone calling on his trusted captain. How the hell Piers had convinced the man to come to this place with him, and on what conditions, Ada would likely never know. She supposed it was something akin to how Piers had convinced her to save him when she first saw him, and again when the virus nearly took control of him. That was how it had happened and she refused to let herself believe anything else. Something about Piers demanded saving—no, it was survival. He demanded to survive.

So it was his fault. She had no choice in the matter.

Ada had hardly closed the door to the security office behind her when Piers doubled back to see what was taking her so long. They practically bumped heads, and remained chest-to-chest for a moment, almost dumbstruck.

It was an allowable reaction for Piers but Ada mentally scolded herself.

She attempted to shrug the entire interaction off, still in-progress or not. "Impatient much?" She tried to back away but had nowhere to go, unless she opened the door and retreated into the security room.

That was not going to happen.

Piers raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, considering what we just saw—"

Ada couldn't retreat, so she would force him to make a move. She leaned forward just a bit, closing what little space remained, and needing to do little more than whisper, asked, "Then shall we?"

Maine, United States
Simmons Estate, B1 Hallway South

No sign of Jake, Piers, or Leon. It really hadn't been that long though it felt like forever to Sherry. She couldn't imagine what Chris was going through. He wore his mask well. Eyes forward, shotgun at the ready, leading the way and looking like he was ready for anything. Then again, he looked that way in China, too. He'd been ready to face anything the enemy could throw at him, but he never considered the idea that he might still be leaving without Piers.

To have it happen twice, and in such a short span of time...

Clearly, Piers had made it out of China alright, made it back to the U.S. alright. He and Chris had even found each other alright. Something still didn't seem right, though. Well, a lot of things about all of this weren't right.

They continued on quietly. The area they were currently investigating seemed to be square-shaped—they'd traveled two straight hallways that turned 90 degrees to the left once they reached the end, at least. They peeked into rooms that looked suspiciously like prison cells as they made their way forward. Nobody home so far. Until...

"Did you hear that?" It was Helena who broke the uneasy silence.

"Someone's coming," Chris said, his voice low and rough.

They all listened. It sounded like footsteps and yet, it didn't.

"Guards?" Sherry whispered her guess.

"Could be. Whatever they are, we haven't got time for 'em," was Chris's declaration as he tightened his grip on his shotgun and headed around the corner.

Helena and Sherry shook their heads, shared a sympathetic look, and jogged around the corner behind him.

"What is... he... it?" Sherry asked.

Chris offered only one word in response. "Infected."

Sherry tentatively categorized the... well, he'd been a man at one point, that was made even more obvious by the fact that he was naked now, as a J'avo. He was moving awfully slowly, and hadn't tried to attack yet.

A big, dark, tumor-like mass stuck out oddly from the left side of his neck. Another growth sat atop his left hand. The veins leading to both protrusions were thicker and more prominent than they should've been, and whatever his blood had become, it was now very, very dark.

"You've both been around long enough to know what needs to be done. Let's just take him down and move on," Chris ordered.

"...Take... him... down—"

Sherry gasped a little, despite herself. Helena had done it, too. Even Chris seemed to have been taken aback by the BOW's speech. They'd all heard J'avo talk before, but not like this. It was copying Chris.

"That's the plan, asshole," Chris muttered.

Clearly, he'd gotten over his shock quicker than Sherry or Helena.

The creature cocked its head to the side, giving Chris, or anyone who was so inclined, a prime shot at the bulb-like growth on its neck. Chris was so inclined, having since determined that was likely the BOW's weak spot. A shotgun blast easily ruptured the tumor and a spray of syrupy, black blood decorated the walls on both sides of the hallway.

The BOW stumbled back a couple of steps. Helena and Sherry both moved up to fire at it. Their bullets were hitting the mark, the creature oozing blood from each new wound, but it wasn't doing more than forcing the thing back a couple of feet at a time.

"There's another one down on the hand!" Sherry called out.

"I see it. I just need him to give me a clean shot at it," Helena replied.

"I got it. Just keep at it," Chris said, moving to the side.

He slung the shotgun over his shoulder and worked to get behind the BOW. Another hit to the gut—Chris couldn't tell who'd fired the shot—but it was distraction enough, and he grabbed at the creature, wrapped his right arm around the its head and neck, hoping to immobilize it long enough that he could use his other arm to force it to straighten its other arm and give Sherry or Helena a better chance at hitting its weak spot.

It worked, and Helena landed a shot to the top of the creature's hand—either a really good shot, or a really lucky shot. Whatever it was, the BOW withered in Chris's grasp, and fell to the floor in a heap once Chris realized he could let it go.

He stepped past it, looking down at his tar-stained uniform and groaning over it as he did. He nodded at Helena and offered a simple, "Nice shot."

She assumed it was quite the compliment coming from Chris and did her best to humbly accept it. "Thanks."

Chris was back in front, with Helena right behind him, and Sherry at the rear. They'd hardly heard the hiss in time to do more than turn around. The BOW sprang upright, exhibiting far more speed than it had cared to show a few minutes ago. A new hand... like appendage grew in to replace the one Helena'd pretty much blown off, followed almost immediately by whatever that was that had just grown out of its neck, loudly snapping it in the process. Thicker than a tentacle, though it certainly couldn't be counted as another arm. Those, however, were tentacles, growing from its chest and belly—seemingly sprouting out from every bullet wound that had been inflicted during the previous battle.

"Guess he wants a rematch," Helena muttered, raising her gun.

Chris reached for his shotgun. "Then that's what he's gonna get."

Sherry nodded her agreement. What else was there to do? It wasn't looking like they had any choice but to fight.

A/N: Naughty Ada, not telling Piers she saw Chris on one of those monitors...

I thought it'd be creepy if one of the things my barely-original BOWs did was mimic speech and that the words they chose to mimic were a hint that they wanted to be killed... Following conversation, only acting defensively, seeming to understand what was going on, to a certain degree. It's similar to how several existing RE monsters (J'avo, Deborah Harper, even Scagdead from Revelations) behave but not exactly the same. I tried to distinguish the similarities from the differences. No telling if I pulled it off or not.

I kinda like the idea of an enemy where the strength of its second form is based on how much damage one did to its first form before figuring out how to drop it. In the case of Chris, Sherry, and Helena, they unloaded more into their guy than Leon and Jake...

It's honestly really hard to come up with shit that meshes with what's already been done in the RE-verse but hasn't been done to death. XD I'm guessing they've sort of reached that point, officially, too, considering Dino Simmons and all...

It will not die. I won't let it. Dino Simmons forever.