Chapter Text
January 2, 2011
Despite the B.S.A.A. finding its way to the town as expected, Wesker is annoyed to see that things are not progressing as quickly he would like. Instead of going directly to the rigged facility, the B.S.A.A. people are lingering at the small Serbian town. Clearly, retrieving Chris is not their top priority. It is unsurprising that this group is no more competent than the ones from before.
He is not sure when exactly the B.S.A.A. was tipped off, given the ineptitude of the mercenaries in finding Jake and Sherry. Not to mention that the mercenaries also let the infected B.S.A.A. underling and two doses of the experimental C-virus antidote disappear from right under their noses during that time too.
The implications are clear. There is no way the dog could have escaped independently, which means that at least one of the mercenaries was involved, though this individual’s motivation and loyalties are unknown. A number of mercenaries are still unaccounted for, presumably killed by Chris and the other escapees. However, one or more of them could have taken advantage of the situation to disappear and carry out their machinations undetected. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Nevertheless, despite the mercenaries’ multiple failures, he finds himself intrigued by the scientific implications of the infected underling’s escape. If the underling was able to successfully participate in an escape, it would mean that the virus can be used to manufacture more controllable, directable B.O.W.s. Or perhaps one of the stolen antidotes was used on the underling and led to enough recovery of mental faculties to allow for escape. Either way, it is fascinating, and something he wished he had the dog around for in order to conduct further testing. If anything, it would make Chris think twice about escaping and remind him of what happens when he backslides...
He banishes the idea. Having other people around has only ever driven Chris to distraction and betrayal - first with those two B.S.A.A. agents he used the P30 devices on, then Jill, and now the two underlings he left alive and allowed Chris to plot with. No, it is better if Chris is alone with him, unable to think about anyone or anything else until the punishment is complete. Then he can bring Chris out again, but on a short leash until Chris can be trusted to remain obedient.
He looks at the sensory deprivation chamber that Chris is being held in, which has been deposited almost haphazardly in a corner of his lab. He turns down the opacity of the glass, revealing Chris suspended in the clear, oxygenated fluid within. Chris is trying to struggle and scream in vain, despite the blindfold, earphones, and restraints. He is annoyed to see that Chris was not put inside according to his exact specifications. The background noise he selected is not being played through the earphones. Chris’s face is chafed by a cloth gag that looks barely enough to keep him silent. A few pieces of the restraints have not been applied, allowing Chris to move more than intended. As usual, if he wants a decent job done, he has to do it himself. Bad enough the mercenaries are already starting to get ideas. He made that mistake early on, when he gave Chris to the ones in the South Africa base to play with, though this was before their shared Protoype infection took effect and made him far more possessive of his point man. Now, these mercenaries have made no secret of their desire to kill Chris. They will not be permitted free reign. Given how they dared to ask about getting to kill Chris after he is “done,” they will be dealt with.
He gets Chris out of the chamber, not wanting to leave him somewhere so shoddily put together for any longer. It is a tricky process due to Chris’s constant thrashing. The state of Chris’s injuries is also concerning. Chris was last punished two days ago, but the injuries have healed minimally and quite a few of the wounds on the shoulders and back have become infected. There are also more bruises on Chris, ones that he is not responsible for. The most visible ones are on the abdomen, an area he had purposely avoided. At least one bruise is obviously in the shape of a boot print, at least one size smaller than his own.
He will definitely be having more than a simple talk with these mercenaries. He makes a mental note of the men who were assigned to prepare Chris for transport, intending to deal with them after the B.S.A.A. team is neutralized. Unluckily for them, all four of them are still alive.
As Chris appears to be in no condition for the punishment to continue, he moves Chris to a medical bed. With much difficulty, he maneuvers Chris to lay face down on the bed and applies the four-point restraints. Turning on the monitors for the vital signs, he tries to rein in his anger at the mercenaries and instead focus on Chris’s needs. As soon as the earphones and gag are removed, Chris lets out a hoarse cry and babbles something.
“...no...I’m...I’m not!”
Perhaps it is a bad memory? He wouldn’t be surprised, but he is displeased by the implications. He unties the blindfold, revealing red eyes that are frantic and unfocused. If Chris’s mind is present at the moment, it is not enough to mount any kind of intentional resistance. Still, he does not want to see his point man entrapped by bad memories. Are these memories of Clay, the low-life that he disposed of? Or of something that happened while Chris was in B.S.A.A. custody? He has yet to demand information from Chris about what happened after he absconded with Jill back to the B.S.A.A.. He debates asking about it when Chris is more coherent, but considering that it took P30 and interrogating Clay himself to learn the full extent of Clay’s abuse, learning about the B.S.A.A.’s abuses will likely take just as much effort, if not more. He will have to defer investigations to a later time. As much as he wants to know, using the P30 now could result in worse nightmares or dissociation. That wouldn’t do, especially since he wants to finish the rest of the punishment sooner rather than later.
Chris cries out and struggles in response to any touch, not unlike the last time he was newly taken out of the sensory deprivation chamber. As much as he wants to spend more time touching his Chris, the infected wounds are worrying. Why is Chris not healing as quickly as before? He draws several blood samples to be analyzed, then starts IV antibiotics and begins to clean the wounds. The surrounding skin is inflamed and feverish to the touch. Chris’s vital signs are less than ideal, likely attributable to the wound infection.
“Stop! No! No!” Chris screams and struggles harder as the wounds are cleaned. He runs a hand through Chris’s hair in a comforting gesture, frowning when Chris tries to shake his head free and becomes more agitated. He strokes Chris’s hair for a while longer, but eventually stops when the agitation worsens. It is tempting to use a sedative, but he wants to ensure that Chris will be awake when the B.S.A.A. team reaches the abandoned facility. There must be some other way to calm Chris until this delirium resolves.
The B.S.A.A. team is still progressing at a snail’s pace. No doubt Jill is here as well, to try to take Chris from him. Too bad she is leading her team right to the mansion and its trap.
Chris continues to babble deliriously as he applies a light layer of gauze over the wounds. He wishes he could stop whatever is tormenting Chris. In addition to the infection, another reason for the prolonged confusion and agitation must be the excessive sensory deprivation from not having any background sounds on. When he is done here, he needs to review the recordings of Chris’s time in the sensory deprivation chamber. There is much to do already, but if it helps solve this mystery, then it is worth the time.
The results from the blood work confirm that Chris is clearly ill, something that has never happened before while Chris is in his care. Unless the B.S.A.A. did something to tamper with the effects of Chris’s Prototype virus? Though it is unlikely to be just that. Chris was already weakened at the time of the escape, and the rightful punishment that came after he was caught had admittedly been severe. Perhaps it was too much, though Chris deserved every second of it. As much as he wants to resume the punishment, he has to be more careful until the infection heals, or temporarily use methods that will not exacerbate the infection and wounds. The upcoming demise of the B.S.A.A. agents can potentially be used as part of the punishment, depending on whether Chris will be coherent enough when it happens.
“No...wrong! No...no!” Chris is still pulling at the restraints in agitation and remains trapped in his fever dream. It almost sounds like Chris is arguing about something. Chris is willful and obstinate about many things -- pleasure, obedience, allowing himself to be cared for, the connection they now have through their shared Prototype virus -- but this seems different, more desperate.
For some reason, it reminds him of a long time ago, when he and a number of other children were under the care of Spencer’s cronies. There was a boy who was singled out for abuse by a particularly vicious caretaker. The woman never had anything good to say and lost her temper over the smallest things. Wesker had argued back once, but immediately relented upon realizing that it only fanned the flames of her vitriol and made himself a target. The unfortunate boy was unable to escape her notice, and became increasingly withdrawn and emaciated until he disappeared altogether one day. The caretaker followed not long after. As a child, he was never told what happened to them, but it is quite obvious now that the incompetent caretaker had likely contributed to the boy’s death and was disposed of by Spencer as a result.
Memories of the sad-eyed boy linger in his mind -- the boy’s fearful glance when he was reprimanded for nonexistent misdeeds, his weak trembling and growling stomach when he was sent to his room without dinner…
“No more...no…”
At the sound of Chris’s incoherent begging, his hands twitch in want to hold and comfort his point man, to soothe away the fearful and dangerous delirium. Chris needs to be nursed back to health. The delirium should resolve afterwards. His anger flares up again at the mercenaries responsible for Chris’s current suffering. It is all due to their carelessness and misplaced desire for revenge. These mercenaries are already bought and paid for. He will do what he wants with them.
One of the motion sensors on the mountain path to the abandoned facility picks up a signal. The B.S.A.A. team has finally left the town, it seems. His rage lifts somewhat at the promise of Jill’s impending death. The desire to comfort Chris once again becomes irresistible. He gently strokes Chris’s hair and massages the back of Chris’s neck, above the metal collar. Unlike before, Chris does not become more agitated and even starts to relax. Pleased, he continues the motions, though the flushed, sweaty skin reminds him that his precious point man is still ill and delirious. Despite his worries, being able to calm Chris is doing wonders for his mood. The struggles and incoherent protests get quieter as Chris is lulled to sleep, finally permitted some relief.
He stays close by until he is sure that Chris is sound asleep. Chris can rest for the next hour or two, until the B.S.A.A. team reaches the abandoned facility. The timing is likely too ambitious, but he wants Chris to see the B.S.A.A. fail spectacularly in its feeble rescue attempt. Chris is his. Everyone will learn by the time this is over.
=
He sees Piers transform again, his body tearing itself apart. Piers is trying to reach him, anger and betrayal clear on his ruined face. Then the dark mass of Uroboros entangles Piers as Wesker cackles in the background. He tries to go to Piers, but his body won’t move an inch. B.O.W.s converge on him and gouge their claws into him until his body is in tatters. When his throat is too hoarse to scream anymore, a B.O.W. raises a claw to his throat to deliver the finishing blow.
He jerks awake to the sound of rapid beeping near him. It sounds like a heart rate monitor. He can’t move his arms and legs. He shivers uncontrollably from the cold, before it starts to get too hot. Everything hurts, especially his shoulders and back. His head is spinning and his vision keeps going in and out of focus, making it impossible to figure out where he is. He feels sick and nauseated.
“You ain’t worth the wear to my belt for being so stupid.”
He hears the angry voice again. It sounds like his father’s voice, but it grows distant and incomprehensible. He senses Wesker nearby, which makes him struggle in fear of being hurt more. Wesker is pain and he wants to escape, but Wesker is his only option. What else does he have besides his family’s disdain and rejection? At least Wesker may want to keep him.
He sees screens showing the mansion where only Jill, Barry, Rebecca managed to escape from alive… Double-crosser . Marini was right, wasn’t he? But didn’t they blow up that mansion…? Why is it still here...
He hears a different voice that sounds gentle and caring, but can’t make out what it is saying. A soothing, warm touch moves over his head, making him relax instinctively. He wants to rest, wants to be touched more, even though he only deserves to suffer for being so weak and getting so many people killed. The warm touch continues. Why?
The voice speaks again. “You’re my point man. What’s wrong, Chris?”
Point man? No, no, that can’t be something he can do, no, why say that? That’s an important job, he’s not important. He tries to squirm away but can’t. The touches are still running along his scalp and down his shoulders, soothing away his pain and draining the tension from his muscles. How can this be? He can still sense Wesker here, which means there should be pain and cold like he deserves. Why is someone making him feel good? He has done nothing to earn it. He tosses and turns, whimpering.
“Shh, calm down.”
Wait, if Wesker is the only one here, who is comforting him then?
“Still feverish.” The voice sounds like Wesker, but it can’t be. Why would Wesker be worried when Wesker hates him and is always punishing him? Not that he doesn’t have it coming for giving into the man’s sick games.
His vision clears for a moment, allowing him to see Wesker’s eyes narrowed in displeasure, except they’re not blue, but red and reptilian. He trembles in terror, wanting to beg for mercy, but he's past that now. Nothing he says or does ever helps. Why even bother?
“Tell me what is wrong. I can't help if you don't. You're ill.”
“Sick freak. How dare you even try to contact us when you still unrepentant?
“I want to help you recuperate.”
It is so tempting to just ignore everything and melt into the touches, the only good thing he’s gotten in a while. He feels so tired and confused… He remembers such a strange jumble of things, and his Captain...no, Wesker, just Wesker, not...
“You seem only slightly more lucid than before, but nowhere near aware,” Wesker notes in an almost worried tone that Chris recalls hearing somewhere...the mansion? Spain? It was a cliffside, and Jill was there… A hand grips his chin and a bright light is shone into his eyes without warning, making him more dizzy and nauseated. Despite that, the warmth from the hand gradually takes away some of that discomfort. The hand starts stroking his hair again. It takes a long time before he remembers that he should try to shake it off, but he doesn’t have the strength.
“My plans were slightly delayed, but they are back on schedule now.”
He opens his eyes, realizing that he almost fell asleep. Wesker looks pleased about something. Why? He didn’t do anything to deserve praise. Something happened… So much did... The mercenaries beat him… Did they do more? He remembers them trying… He upset Wesker by running away, but the others had to leave. If it's just him, he's expendable. Others can take his place. Piers can-- Piers is a mindless monster now, remember? It would have been better if he died. At least he would still be human and be given a proper burial, but now the B.S.A.A. will put him down like a rabid dog. Like they should have done to you.
He launches himself at Wesker, howling in anger and despair, only to be held in place by the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Wesker grabs him, causing pain to flare up his shoulder and down his spine, almost cold in it's brutality. He struggles harder, trying to pull at the IVs and wires on him. The sight of Wesker’s angry face makes him cower briefly before he continues to scrabble at anything within reach. Wesker holds him still by his arms, causing more bursts of pain. He collapses back onto the bed, which makes his back hurt unbearably. Shivering, he keeps fighting against the restraints so he can get free and do something. Wesker transformed Piers, made Piers a monster. Finn is dead. Who knows where Jake or Sherry are, or if they’re safe. Even if they are found by the B.S.A.A., they won’t be safe, given what he'd heard about Leon Kennedy’s fate. Both of them can easily end up the same way, and he won’t be able to save them. All he can do is make things worse, like always, and they will end up dead. He will never be able to face Claire again if he killed Sherry.
“Though you’re not at your full health, Chris, don’t think that will stop me from punishing you as necessary,” Wesker snarls at him, sapping the last of his fight. He is exhausted and in pain, as if his body has been punished for days. Once he goes limp, Wesker lets go of him. That must be why the pain is gone for now… Of course, Wesker can touch him again whenever he wants. He trembles at the thought of more pain, but the alternative would mean that he is not useful. As if your sloppy hole is worth fucking . The possibility of becoming useless to Wesker terrifies him, even if it means that he would not be punished or used again. There is nowhere else for him to go if Wesker throws him away... He might as well die now and save everyone the trouble of having to kill him.
He watches Wesker walk over to the large monitors. There is a blurry figure on the screen. It looks like Jill...
“Two minutes to go before the explosives detonate. Jill won’t bother us again after this.”
He feels his stomach plummet in dread. Why is Jill still at the mansion? He thought they all left together before he set the self destruct!
“No...no, please, don’t! Don’t do this. I’ll be good, I won’t run again!” he begs, blurting out anything that he can think of that Wesker may want in exchange for stopping the self destruct. Wesker looks unmoved, his pleas obviously not working. He can’t think of how else to stop this, shaking in fear as he watches the timer move closer and closer to...to…
“Don’t lie, Chris. Besides, I'm tired of being hounded by your little organization. It's time to deal with the nuisance and show them that you belong to me and me alone.”
He struggles weakly as his body protests the movements. It’s too hot suddenly, but he shivers like it’s freezing. No, he can’t let this happen. He can’t. Jill and Alpha team, everyone who trusted him, he can’t let them die. He can’t run away, not like before. Had to get Claire involved, did you? She nearly died because of you. Jill was infected and hurt, the whole city nuked. No, that was Umbrella’s fault, not his! You did nothing to stop them. You didn’t stay when everyone else did. No...no...not this time...he has to convince Wesker, he has to save them. He has to do whatever it takes.
“I-I’m not lying I swear!” Less than two minutes… You won’t succeed. “Please turn it off, please! I won’t! I won’t run!” Wesker approaches. Making himself small in preparation for another painful touch or some other punishment, he continues to beg. He has to stop it, no matter what, or else the rest of S.T.A.R.S. will die because of him. “I won’t, I’ll stay, don’t hurt them! Please! Please! I’ll be good!”
“You’ve promised to be good several times in the past,” Wesker reminds him, “though you’ve never been able to follow through. Only Jill and her team will die. Barry and the others are not there. You are no doubt still confused.”
“No, not her! Please, please don’t, not her! I’ll be good, I-I’ll…” His head is pounding, it’s too hot, he’s shaking too badly. The gentle touch returns to his head. It feels good... He wants more, but no, Wesker is trying to kill them...he needs...he can’t…
Hyperventilating, he tries to look at the screens to make sure no one else is there. It turns out Wesker IS lying! Wesker lied again. Jill, Barry, Rebecca, Richard - they are all at the mansion! He can see them with his own eyes! He has to convince Wesker to stop the self destruct, save them before the place blows up. He’ll be good! He can be so good. He’s sorry! He’ll be better!
“Breathe, Chris. Shhh. You need to breathe.”
Despite all his pleading, Wesker is not stopping the countdown. Everyone is going to die... He begs, screams, makes promises, anything to change Wesker’s mind. Like you’ve ever saved anyone. Like your sister didn’t put her life on the line for you. What did that get her? Who didn’t make it there in time to save her from a broken heart?
The screens suddenly change to static. Wesker doesn’t even bother to look back at them.
See? You failed, and now everyone in S.T.A.R.S. is dead because of you. Not that it matters. You can’t even keep Wesker’s attention. The voices are loud, overwhelming. He feels lightheaded and can’t catch his breath, like he is about to black out. Won’t be long before you die, like you should have a long time ago when you first became a disgrace to everyone you care about.