Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil, Capcom, or any of the used characters.

Author's Note: Alright so first of all, this story is going to be AU for the following reason: Jill wasn't the one who 'died', it was just Wesker which will be explained in the story. I know that doesn't seem like a huge reason to call it Alternate Universe but due to how important it was to the story line of Resident Evil 5, it can't possibly be considered same universe. As far as I can tell, most of the other things will be the same besides the occasional plot change but they shouldn't be too big. So, just sit back and enjoy the new story.

.:Chapter 1:.

Enjoy Yourself

Chris sighed as he finally arrived at his flat. The brunet hadn't been forced to work this late in months but the recent discovery of possible B.O.W smuggling wasn't something to be taken lightly and the B.S.A.A were working around the clock to get as much information as possible. Jill had their contact, Reynard Fisher, giving constant updates but as the amount of information was limited, they were forced to remain where they were. The west African branch of the B.S.A.A could handle it if anything went wrong in the immediate future but without more steady information, the United Kingdom branch couldn't just send out teams to invade innocent towns.

What worried Chris the most was the possibility of Wesker being behind the possible B.O.W smuggling. Jill insisted differently but Chris couldn't seem to get that option out of his mind and he was, eventually, forced to leave due to his persistence on the subject. The problem was, after he had dove through the large window in Spencer's Mansion, the B.S.A.A never found a body or any trace left of Albert Wesker. Chris simply couldn't understand why everyone assumed he was dead unless they were just in denial.

Chris chuckled bitterly as he entered his apartment building thinking to himself how lucky the rest of his team were. What he wouldn't give to not have to live in constant fear of Wesker...

Sighing again, Chris made his way to the fourth floor and began fishing out his keys from his pocket. Their last departing had been months ago and still, Chris could not forget it. It was a memory that haunted him simply because he couldn't accept Wesker's death was so effortless.

Quickly making his way down the carpeted hallway after exiting the staircase, Chris found his flat and began unlocking the door. Pushing the key in, he turned it but heard no unlocking sound; the door was already unlocked. He frowned and put a hand to his waist where his gun sat in its holster before turning the handle and pushing the door open with the keys still secured in the lock. The room in front of him was dark, the only light spilled in from the hallway lights behind him. The light was enough for Chris to see past his own overgrown shadow and allow him to view the half lit living room in front of him.

The flat itself had multiple floors and was big despite being a rather simple apartment. From the doorway, Chris could see the black corner couch sitting in the middle of the room. Behind it sat a small black side table pressed against a wall and above it, a silver mirror that Jill had gotten and hung for him several years ago. In front of the couch was a small throw rug that protected the wooden floors from the black coffee table in front of it. Several feet in front of that was a fireplace with a large television hanging above it.

The living room alone was enough for any man to love but he really couldn't stand it. The apartment was simply too large for him and if the B.S.A.A hadn't been the ones paying for it, Chris wouldn't have been living here. However, the B.S.A.A had specific qualifications for where each member should live and, unfortunately, this was the closest apartment building to headquarters.

Chris walked in, his right hand still holding a gun as his left hand pulled the keys from the door and flipped on a light. Large light sconces sat on either side of the mirror and it was somehow enough to light most of the room. Chris quickly closed the door and tossed his keys onto the couch before walking deeper into his house, ignoring the staircase to his left and instead going down a hallway that was to his right. The hallway lead to the kitchen, first bathroom, and dining room. The bathroom was a small room to his immediate left but before entering, he flipped on the hallway light and peered in.

After deciding it was empty, he continued, his gun still at the ready as he turned on another switch and entered his kitchen. The kitchen was also large, a small island in the middle where you could both eat or use as storage; which he did neither of. Chris certainly wasn't home enough to cook often let alone have enough cooking supplies to have to store in more than one or two cupboards. He continued through the kitchen until he reached the dining room that was also empty. He sighed and turned around before beginning to make his way back through the house, turning off the lights as he went.

The brunet returned to the living room and went up the stairs where his bedroom was. He frowned and entered the room, seeing absolutely nothing out of order. He replaced his gun into his holster before turning and sitting on his bed.

"Maybe I just forgot to lock it this morning..." he muttered to himself as he kicked off his shoes eyeing the green tone of them in the lighting.

He sat on his bed for several long minutes, trying to figure why he remembered distinctly locking his door earlier that morning before his phone rang, successfully startling him into answering.

"Redfield," he answered and Jill's voice responded.

"Hey, Chris. Tomorrow, we'll be tracking more of Mr. Reynard's work but it should be simple and I think you should stay home," from the hastiness of Jill's voice, Chris could tell Jill didn't want to be making this call and that was enough to tell him why she was making it in the first place.

"You can't be serious," Chris growled as he laid his left forearm on his thigh and slouched over.

"I'm sorry, Chris, but you need to let it go. Wesker's dead and until you accept that, you won't be able to focus on the current mission. If B. really are being smuggled into Africa, then we need to stop it and I need your help."

"If you need my help, why the hell are you taking me off the case?"

"I'm not, Chris. I just think you need a day or two off. You haven't taken off work since that night at the mansion, maybe it could help," Jill suggested softly.

"If anything happens-"

"I'll call you. Don't worry, if we decide to send a team to Africa, you're still first on the list. Just take a few days to relax. I'll keep in touch, alright?"

"Yeah," Chris grumbled in response.

"Goodnight, Chris."

"Night," Chris growled before ending the call harshly.

Was he really over thinking it too much? Was Wesker truly dead?

Chris scoffed and tossed his phone absentmindedly onto the side table. He stood and pulled off his shirt, tossing it into a nearby clothes bin. After removing his slacks, he was able to pull on a comfortable pair of shorts before sliding into bed.

Several hours of mild Wesker contemplating later, he found himself finally asleep.

They were there for Ozwell E. Spencer, Chris and Jill were in no way expecting to find Albert Wesker standing several feet from the elder's dead body. Chris immediately began shooting, both shocked and confused at the scene that had played out moments before. Jill took his lead and began shooting as well, both ready. Unfortunately, Wesker was very ready for them; He dodged each shot successfully, his inhuman powers showing vividly as Chris caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes through tinted shades before he was quickly disarmed. Chris certainly didn't expect Wesker to vanish and reappear beside him, elbowing him before punching upwards to send Chris flying back.

Wesker then turned on Jill but Chris only caught so much as he attempted to recover from the assault. By the time Chris was done reeling, he turned to find Wesker choking Jill against one of the many pillars in the room. Chris attacked, lightning strikes lighting up the night sky just outside the window as he punched and missed the blond. Despite the miss, Wesker had released Jill to dodge the punch which allowed Chris to continue.

Chris kept attacking, miss after miss before Wesker simply stopped Chris completely by catching the brunet's hand mid swing. Chris saw the faint smirk on Wesker's face before Wesker twisted the brunette's arm behind his back and put Chris into an even more uncomfortable position. Wesker immediately took action, punching Chris squarely in the cheek.

Chris responded by reeling into a spin, kicking Wesker only to have the attack blocked. Jill immediately began shooting, one shot after another going straight through Wesker as he teleported while simultaneously fighting off Chris's attacks. Eventually, Wesker just pushed Chris aside to take on the shots alone, managing to dodge each with perfection. Chris had recovered just as Jill's last shot rang out and another strike of lightning lit up the scene.

Immediately, both B.S.A.A members attacked again; Chris got his attack in first, only to be blocked and punched in the face. Jill was second, her knife at the ready. Chris turned to see Jill flying uncouthly through the air. Jill hit, back first, into one of the many bookcases surrounding the room, the glass shattering as she fell to the floor with the many shards of glass. Chris then tried attacking again, his attacks dodged then blocked. Chris was unexpectedly elbowed in the stomach before being tossed into the air, Wesker's firm grip around Chris's throat as he was suddenly being dragged across a nearby wooden table before being thrown across the room, landing somewhere in front of the windows.

Chris barely recovered before seeing Wesker slowly progressing towards him. Chris pushed himself into a standing position, diving away from Wesker's grab at the last moment. Wesker spun on his heel, eyeing Chris who was silently considering what to do next, prepared for the next attack. Wesker straightened, his back to the window as Jill grabbed for Chris's discarded gun.

"Now!" Jill shouted and Chris nodded.

His knife was out in a split second and he was charging at Wesker. Wesker stopped Chris, only sliding a few feet back at the impact before he kneed Chris in the stomach and forced him backwards. Another lightning strike left them in the dark for a split second; Jill took this opportunity to shoot while they were all blinded A single shot hit Wesker square in the glasses, the force in his face causing him to stumble backwards. Another shot and the man fell backwards into the window.

The window shattered under the force and the black figure was suddenly gone from sight, leaving Chris to sit and stare at the now broken window. Rain was still pouring and a small puddle was beginning to form in front of the broken window. Both B.S.A.A members were panting and it took a long moment for either of them to move.

Chris was the first to do it, walking towards the window hesitantly as if expecting the blond to suddenly reappear and continue the fight. Chris put a hand on the window beside it, making sure to keep his balance as he leaned over the edge, his head immediately getting splashed with the downpour of rain. His eyes looked down the edge of the cliff to the rocks and pounding waves below and he saw nothing.

Chris startled awake, sitting up quickly while his eyes scanned the barely lit room. It had only been a few months but this definitely wasn't the first time Chris had been woken up by the memory. On the contrary, it had haunted him for weeks after and only made appearances when he was highly stressed, such as times like this.

Reaching to the bedside table, he grabbed his phone and flipped it open, reading the time; Not nearly late enough. He groaned and tossed the phone back onto the table, the loud thud telling him it fell to the floor. Tossing the blankets from his waist, Chris got out of bed and began towards the bathroom that connected to his room. Slipping into the room, he started the shower before eyeing his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

His hair was sticking up everywhere, there were dark circles under his tired looking eyes, and then the dark circle on his chest. His eyes stopped at the large bruise and he examined it closer by looking down directly at it. It had been weeks and the damn thing was still there, though, considering it was from being thrown into the air only to be dragged across a table with blunt force of Wesker's palm against his chest, he wasn't too worried. The hand marks around Jill's neck took about a week and a half to go away which said quite a bit about Wesker's strange and his willingness to use his abilities.

Chris eyed the black-blue spot again, his fingertips traveling to it absentmindedly as he traced the outline where he could faintly see the marks from Wesker's fingertips. Chris shivered and looked away as the steam from the shower was beginning to cloud the mirror and he began stripping. After stepping out of his night underclothes, he then stepped into the shower, the hot stream berating against his skin in a soothing way that allowed him to relax for the first time since he'd awoken.

He leaned his head back, the water washing over his scalp and sinking into his short brown hair, as he contemplated over the nightmarish dream that continued to haunt him.

There was so much about that night that he remembered; The rain beating against the windows, the long moment that it took for Wesker to turn and face them, the look of complete indifference on Wesker's face as he fell out the window; it was all so haunting. The lightning strikes, the loud rolls of thunder, the way every single one of Wesker's attacks were relentless; Chris truly hated being able to remember every last detail.

In S.T.A.R.S, as pointman, that was something that he had been trained to do. Due to his sharpshooter skills, he was placed as pointman often and had to remember things like directions, specific mission details, and sometimes he had to memorize certain techniques. However, when it came down to reporting the mission, in the end, he always had the most detailed reports simply because of his keen sense to detail.

And that was making all of this far too difficult for him.

Wesker was superhuman; Falling out of a window was certainly not going to be enough to kill him no matter what Jill or the rest of the in denial B.S.A.A members said.

Albert Wesker was still alive.

And strangely enough, Chris felt a small bubble of hope beneath all the haunting worry and fear looming within him. True, nobody knew what the blond was planning when they found him because Wesker hadn't even been the one they were looking for and Chris hadn't even seen him since Rockfort Island.

Well, that was a lie.

But nobody knew that.

Chris hadn't been seeing Wesker in a personal manner, the blond would simply show up. The first few times, the two had fought but it all seemed playful rather than serious. Wesker wasn't trying to kill Chris and it took a few 'chance' meetings for the brunet to realize Wesker wasn't there to fight. That night specifically, Wesker had shown up to find Chris in a particularly bad mood due to having a small fight with Jill. It was rough at first; As soon as Chris saw Wesker, he simply sighed and stood up, complaining that it was a bad time. Wesker taunted him but made no advances toward him and soon, Chris just got accustom to Wesker being there. The blond knew where the brunet lived, that's where most of their fights took place, so coming home to find Wesker sitting on his couch wasn't out of the ordinary. They never really spoke too much about their lives or what either of them did when they weren't together; Instead, they mainly reminisced about their time in S.T.A.R.S, recalling various situations where one had saved the other or how a certain order had lead to dramatic changes.

Chris never understood why he didn't question it or why he didn't push Wesker away that last night the two had spent together. Chris didn't fight against Wesker when he began undressing himself, their lips moving against each other in hasty passion. It was messy, sloppy, rough, and a bit dangerous but it was the most fun Chris had ever had.

And then Wesker didn't come back.

Chris sighed a shaky breath through the spray of the stream of water as he absentmindedly washed the suds of the shampoo away. In the weeks the two had spent together, neither had ever shown any sort of sexual interest and then... that.

Chris felt guilty, ashamed, used, everything that he should've been feeling. However, he was also feeling reformed, rejuvenated, and simply like he needed that one night where he didn't care who was fucking him, just that the man opposite him was inside him and enjoying it just as much as he was.

But Chris Redfield was a man of morals and his conscious was absolutely unforgiving when it came to the constant guilt. That's why, only a half week later, Chris was so surprised to see the blond standing where Ozwell E. Spencer should have been.

That's also why Chris was surprised that Wesker didn't hold back, not a single bit.

Chris had fought Wesker enough to know the difference between his real strength and his playful strength; It definitely wasn't playful.

Wesker wanted him dead.

However, this wasn't anything new to Chris but it certainly was confusing. Chris didn't have any real feeling towards Wesker; A couple of talks and a one night stand wasn't enough to get emotionally involved, not to mention Wesker's betrayal so it was very clear Chris's main concern was the guilt he felt for sleeping, quite literally, with the enemy. It also didn't help that there was no way he could tell any of this to anyone, especially Jill, so simply 'talking it out' was not going to be an option.

Chris began cleaning himself, hands scrubbing conditioner into his hair after he finished scrubbing his body. He stayed several minutes under the spray of water, his hair rinsing free any extra soap while his body simply needed the relaxing feeling of the water washing over it.

Before long, he shut off the water and stepped out onto the small rug that awaited him. He reached into a nearby cupboard and pulled out a towel. He then dried himself quickly before wrapping the now damp towel around his waist. He moved in front of the mirror, wiping the steam away as he pulled out a razor and began shaving.

It was a bit time consuming, having to shave stubble that he's ignored for the past few days. Between work and his personal situation with Wesker (was there even a personal situation?), shaving was definitely not one of the priorities that he had time for. He barely had time to sleep let alone upkeep himself.

He flinched as he almost cut himself, checking the area to make sure there was no blood before continuing.

He had to admit, it was nice taking a day off but that didn't mean he would simply do nothing the entire day. Oh no, he planned on using the extra time to search through recent news and see if he can possibly track down where Wesker may be. It would take time and detective skills he may or may not possess, but he would not accept that Wesker was dead.

Washing off the excess shaving cream, Chris used a hand towel to dry off his face before tossing that aside and examining his work in the mirror. He took a few seconds to inspect the now hairless skin before he caught his own gaze and his eyes fell to the mark on his chest again.

Chris could still make out the thumb mark just above his collar bone, rather close to his neck, while the remaining four fingers wrapped around the other side, digging just above the collar bone as well. They were almost gone but Chris still had to avoid low collared shirts whenever he went out (though it wasn't often).

The fact was, the damn thing was still there, reminding him of the night that he'd prefer to forget.

"Dammit," he muttered as he turned away from the mirror.

The mark reminded him of far too much; Not just that night but also the fact that Wesker was out there somewhere most likely planning something ridiculous like any other comic book villain, which was something the blond seemed to be turning into.

Chris turned away from his reflection for a second time and grabbed his night clothes from the floor. He exited the bathroom, tossing the clothes somewhere near his clothes from the night before and began searching for his phone, which he found on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. He glanced at the time before tossing the mobile onto the bed.

7:12

It was still pretty early but he supposed he needed the extra time to search.

He contemplated whether he should eat or get dressed first and when a low rumbling filled the quiet room, he realized the need for food won over. He secured the towel around his waist before beginning towards the door. He figured he could start some coffee, throw some bread into the toaster, then hurry back up and change.

However, that idea was demolished the moment he stepped foot outside of his doorway.

"Chris," the blonde's sneer chided from the living room. He didn't bother turning around to look at Chris and, instead, remained at the window staring out across the London street below.

Chris didn't say anything and instead, turned on his heel and hurried back into his room. Wesker got there first, blocking Chris from his gun.

"Now, now, Chris. I'm not here for that," Wesker smirked.