Kate

It's been a week since coming back home from the work trip and you haven’t slept. At most you get two hours a day and you really aren’t functioning. 

There are shadows under your eyes, anyone that looks at you can see them, and makeup doesn’t help, it just makes you look like a ghost. You feel like a complete shell of yourself, drinking four cups of coffee a day just to get through it.

It’s not like you haven’t tried the usual remedies. Warm milk with some honey, chamomile tea, reading a book, not reading a book, doing some exercise, yoga, breathing in a specific pattern, even a few sleeping pills, nothing seems to help. You feel like you are going insane.

Just like now. You lie in bed with your sleeping mask on, even though the light is off. Breathing in and out, in and out over and over again hoping to fall asleep in your mountain of pillows. Something is missing. It's warm, too warm, boiling even. Ripping the mask off you sit upright, fingers fisting the blanket in frustration. 

Letting out a groan you rip the blanket off yourself, getting up and picking up the robe that hangs by your bed. You wrap it around yourself while you go down the stairs, not bothering to change out of your pyjamas.

You make it down to the front door to put your shoes on. Then you pick up your keys and walk out into the cold night, making sure you lock the door behind yourself.

Your car is parked in the driveway, lighting up when you unlock it. 

Once you sit in the driver seat you exhale, contemplating what you are doing for a moment. Before you can think for too long you put the key in the ignition, turning it over and speeding out of the driveway.

You park your car roadside, not remembering if there is a hidden driveway for you to use. Not dwelling on it for long you get out and walk to the front door, clicking the lock button after a moment. You knock several times, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself as you stand in the cold, waiting for the door to open.

Zeno opens it, looking just as tired as you do. You look into his eyes, his glasses forgotten so the shadows beneath his eyes are on full display. 

"I can't sleep, I've tried and I can't," you sound desperate. Pathetic, you think to yourself, but not as pathetic as staying awake for another seven nights in a row.

Knowing him you expect him to smirk. Instead he just smiles, softly like he knew you were coming, like he expects it. 

He stands aside, letting you in before closing the door, making sure it locks behind you. A fancy high tech lock at that. It is Zeno's house after all.

You stand in the entryway, waiting awkwardly until he gestures to the stairs, already walking away, expecting you to follow him. 

The stairs creek as you step on them, the wood old and warped. It’s not an old home, but it has character, you like it. 

Once you reach the landing he makes a left, opening the double doors. The door handle is a lovely brassy gold, contrasting the pattern of the dark wood grain. It looks very elegant. Before you step in you guess it leads to his bedroom.

You are correct.

The room has an elegant feel to it, matching the door. The lighting is dim and comforting, reminding you of candlelight, basking the whole room in a lovely glow. To the right there is another door. Where that leads to, you have no clue, you’ll figure it out at some point. And finally in the middle of the room is the bed. It reminds you of those elegant canopy beds in castles, the ones only royals could afford at the time. It faces the window, currently covered by a thick curtain, probably velvet.

You step closer, skimming your hand over the sheets. They are silk, not that you would expect anything less.

"Will you be admiring the architecture or will you be sleeping?" Zeno questions, interrupting your train of thought as he rounds the bed, already getting in on what you guess is his usual side. 

Instead of answering, you take your robe off, hanging it on a free hook before you turn back to the bed, grasping the edge of the comforter, pulling it up and settling in bed.

Compared to your own bed this feels like an actual cloud. Great, you think to yourself. You’ll have to buy yourself a new bed to replace your own, which you can now compare to a rock. You practically sink into the mattress, the silk feeling absolutely heavenly against your skin.

You settle on your side, facing the middle, facing him.

He does the same, watching you for a while, your hair, your face, your eyes...your lips.

"I couldn't sleep either," he admits, a faint whisper in the quiet.

You smile as you watch him back, happy to know it wasn't just you struggling.

"Good to know."

He just mumbles in response, a low rumbling sound that you can feel. Then he stares again, eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips.

"Zeno," you whisper, just the sound of his name and he already knows what you are referring to.

"Do you want me to stop?" He questions, eyes now focused on your own.

You don't have to think before you answer.

"No."

With that, he closes the distance, hand finding the side of your face, thumb grazing your cheek as he pulls you into a kiss.

You hum into it happily as his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to himself.

He sits up slightly, tugging you along with himself so you can sit on his lap. You smile before pulling away for just a moment, to observe just how dazed he seems.

Happy with yourself you go in for another kiss, and another and another, trailing them down his neck as you go.

"Minx," he whispers against your jaw, a teasing remark. His hands trailing your waist in odd patterns.

"Of course," you reply, a sly grin on your face as you continue your ministrations down his neck.

You close the car door behind you, careful not to slam it like on your own car. You really have to remember to call the workshop one day, it's not like the door will fix itself. 

"Did you take everything?" Wesker asks as he exits the driver side, his briefcase already in hand. The black leather shining in the sunlight.

You lift your own bag up so he can see, showcasing that you took it out of the car. "I did." Forgetting your bag in the car one time had been a mistake, since that day he made sure to ask you if you had it every time.

He just smiles and waits for you to round the side of the car, so you can enter the building together. 

It had become a common occurrence as of late. He would arrive at your house around 7 am sharp, and wait until you left your house around five minutes later. Then he would drive you both to work.

The first time you had asked if he could pick you up, about two weeks ago. Your car had not wanted to start, so you had called him. He had agreed, no hesitation, he said he was happy to. After that he just started showing up, and you didn't complain.

You enter the building silently, it's still early. Not many people like to arrive half an hour before work starts, but then again not many people enjoy their jobs as much as you two do.

Wesker opens the door for you, like always and you step through the threshold, making sure you wait for him. It's like a choreographed step, a new morning routine that you thoroughly enjoy. 

Jane greets you both as you enter and Wesker passes by first, knowing you like to have a bit of a longer chat with her. 

"So...what's going on with you two?" She asks once Wesker is out of sight. 

Instead of changing topics like you usually do, you decide to be honest, but still keeping some details to yourself. "Honestly, nothing, just taking things as they come."

"Mhm, we'll see." She mutters, a smile spreading on her face. You know she can't help it. It's like she's trying to play matchmaker. Not that she's really doing anything, it's just the comments she mentions to you, here and there.

Deciding you need to get going you bid her goodbye and walk down the hall, seeing if you can catch up to Wesker.

You round the corner and almost knock into him. Any other person would have probably been knocked off balance and ended up on the floor. Wesker however stands as stable as ever, having to hold you up. 

"Sorry, I was trying to catch up to you." You mumble, taking a step back.

"Miss me that much?" He smirks as he starts walking again, expecting you to keep up.

You just let a puff of air escape your nose, a laugh more like it, before you follow him down the stairs and into your shared office space.

He unlocks the door and once again lets you go in first. You nod approvingly before you place your bag on your desk and hang your jacket up. Wesker does the same, additionally placing his glasses by his computer and sitting down.

You sit down opposite him, just watching him sort through his papers for a moment. 

"What is it?" He asks, not taking his eyes off the stack. He has this talent, being able to know when you are watching him.

"Nothing, just watching you, you have nice eyes." 

"I believe you've told me at some point dearest." 

The first time he had used the pet name it surprised you, now it felt normal. 

Things had changed a lot in the past two weeks. You had become closer, still keeping a certain boundary, but definitely closer. The exact definition of what you two are is something neither of you have brought up, and honestly, it didn't bother you in the slightest. It just felt like a natural type of transition. Like a testing phase to see what it was like. 

A knock sounds at the door before you can make your own remark. It opens just a moment later, revealing William Birkin with a small child clinging to his hand.

"Good morning." He greets you kindly. "I came here to introduce my daughter Sherry, I decided to bring her to work today, so you might see her around, with me of course."

He presents Sherry. A small little girl, probably around 4-5 years old now. Her hair is bright, tied into two pigtails on either side of her head.

You've heard about Sherry a few times, William mentioning her to Wesker when he talks about his weekends and free time, not that he gets much of it.

"Hello Sherry," you wave kindly, a smile adorning your face. She waves back timidly, probably a shy child. William ushers her closer. They pass Wesker, he greets her the same, a small hello. 

Sherry stands in front of you now, her hand still tightly held by her fathers. "I like your dress, is it a strawberry?" You ask, noticing the small yellow spots supposed to represent the seeds of the berry. 

Instead of answering she just nods, glancing at her father for confirmation first.

"She's shy," William says once Sherry obviously loses interest in you, already looking for a way out of the room. 

"I was too, don't worry about it." You answer before picking up your own stack of papers from your desk drawer. 

William is already being dragged out the door by Sherry, having to pull her back just to end the conversation. "Anyways, I'll let you two be, have to show Sherry around elsewhere." 

"Okay, bye Sherry," you say, waving to her once again. She glances back, waving back to you, happily this time before disappearing into the hall.

Wesker stands up to shut the door before sitting back down again.

"Not a fan of children?" you ask, noticing how quiet he was. 

He looks up from his computer,, the screen tilted at an angle so he can see it better from the glare. A second later he picks up his glasses, putting them on. They really do suit him.

"I don't mind children, I just know from previous experiences that Sherry is not a fan of mine."

You smile softly, able to imagine Sherry meeting him for the first time and not being a fan of the dark glasses. Children are funny like that, first impressions matter more to them than adults. "Fair enough, you are a bit scary looking."

He scoffs, already going back to the work on his computer. "I thought you said I had nice eyes?"

You just shrug, smiling to yourself as you calculate how much equipment you would need for the tests later. "With the glasses I meant."

It's quiet for a moment before you decide to speak up. A thought from earlier comes to mind. "I didn't want to say anything in front of William, but isn't it a bit odd to bring your child to work? Here at Umbrella especially, it's not like there is anything interesting here for a 5 year old, or safe for that matter."

From your peripheral you can see him nod in agreement. "I agree, he did say he would keep her with him at all times."

"I don't believe you've met a 5 year old recently." You reply, knowing how slippery they can be, getting lost in a moment's notice.

"Can't say I deal with them often."

"Fair enough."

It's after lunch and you've decided to head down to the lab, needing to get certain tests out of the way. Wesker insists on accompanying you, wanting to help you take the supplies from the supply room into the lab.

You're about to scan your ID badge to open the door when you can hear shouting from down the hall. It's faint at first but gradually gets louder, like someone is running through the hallways.

"Sherry!" 

It's obviously William calling for his daughter, both the recognisable voice and that he is calling for Sherry.

"Sherry! Daddy's looking for you, come out!"

Wesker takes a step away from you, about to go check it out when William comes speeding down the hall. Looking very frazzled.

"I've lost her, I don't know where she went!" He starts, talking between each intake of breath. His hands rest on his thighs, resting for just a moment. You look at Wesker before trying to get Williams' attention. 

"Where did you lose her?" You ask, trying to get him to calm down. 

"I..I don't know, we were down in the labs, I looked away for a second and now she's gone!"

"Have you alerted security?" Weskers asks, arms crossed, not seeming all that fazed.

"Yes, but. Oh, Annette is going to kill me!"

Before you can get another word in he is already speeding off, taking the stairs to the upper floors, the opposite direction of where he claims to have lost her. 

You can tell Wesker is about to comment on that, but a familiar sound interrupts him.

It's the alarm, the lockdown alarm, but it's followed by a new announcement.

A robotic female voice sounds out throughout the building. "Asset out of containment. Asset out of containment. All staff must evacuate the lower labs. All staff must evacuate the lower labs."

The alarm continues to ring out, repeating the same warning over and over. Your eyes find Weskers, he already seems to be ready to move. 

"Come on, we should go," he says calmly as he places a hand on your back, turning you in the direction of the staircase.

You're about to go along with him, but you stop, thinking for a moment. "What about Sherry?" 

He seems puzzled, tilting his head to look at your worried expression. Your worry increases when a group of five people come running up the stairs, barely dodging you standing there.

It's too loud so you have to shout over the noise. "She could be down in the lab, and with an asset out of containment..." you trail off, worried about little Sherry. At just five years old you can't imagine how frightened she is. Even if she is somewhere safe, the alarm is probably not doing her any good.

"I won't let you go down there alone." He argues with a stern face. You feel like you're being scolded, but that doesn't matter now.

You push him aside as you shout your reply, eyes piercing with intent. "I don't care, I am going down there to make sure Sherry isn't." You leave no room for arguments, absolutely sure of yourself.

"You misheard, I am not letting you go down there alone." 

"Oh," you say, stopping in the middle of the hallway, turning back to look at him. "Come on then." 

And so you both make your way down. The alarm is still blazing, and people are still running. They push and shove, desperately trying to get away from the lab, exactly where you are headed. You hate it, and you know you shouldn't be doing this. It's obviously a bad idea, but the thought of not doing anything feels even worse. The thought of leaving Sherry alone. 

Wesker takes your hand once a new swarm of people rounds the corner, making sure you stay close by. The expression on their faces makes you question, which one of the assets has gone rogue. 

"How serious do you think the situation is?" you ask Wesker, tugging at his hand to make sure he knows you are talking to him.

He leans down so he doesn't have to shout as loud. "Pretty serious considering the whole lower lab has gone into lockdown." His words seem to be confirmed when you round the last corner, the door to the lab waiting for you, a guard standing there. 

"You two, return to the exit, now!" He barks at the two of you once he spots you. 

Usually you would obey an order like this, Wesker keeps his cool, flashing his ID badge at the guard. "We have special clearance."

"I have orders that no one is to return into the area." The guard replies, giving Wesker a puzzled expression. Then he glances at a paper he holds, like he is making sure his orders are correct. 

Even this short interaction is too much for Wesker's patience. He simply takes another step closer, ready to argue once more. "Well we have clearance to override those orders, now let us through."

Once again the guard is sceptical, seemingly not wanting to go against his instructions. 

As they continue their back and forth you try to think of another way into the lab. It isn't like the abandoned facility, you can't go through the vents, and there is no other entrance. Bad design if you have any say in it.

"Very well, but make it quick, that thing is going crazy in there." The guard huffs after another reprimand from Wesker. He glances around the corner before letting the door open just a smidge, enough for you both to pass through.

The door shuts behind you with a click and suddenly you are all alone. It's incredibly eerie. The lights are all dimmed, practically turned off. You realise it will make it much harder to navigate your surroundings, even though you have spent a lot of time down here. The alarm cannot be heard anymore, soundproof doors and all. It's just a combination of suspense essentially.

"What thing did he refer to?" You whisper, feeling like anything louder is unfit for the situation. 

"He wasn't sure." Wesker replies in the same tone, quiet and on edge. 

The hallway ahead is long and narrow. On each side there are about 4 doors, each leading to their own individual specimen room. At the end it branches off into two sides. The right is the incubation room, while the left is the file room. 

"Split up or stick together?" Wesker asks. He realises it's a stupid question once he's asked it. 

"I think we both know the answer to that." You reply, already walking to the first door on the right. 

You can't hear anything else moving about, but you remain cautious either way. Better to be safe than sorry. The door you open has apparently never heard of that because it lets out a squeak that echoes through the hall.

You both freeze, listening for anything coming your way. 

It remains quiet, so you proceed, taking a step into the first room.

It's a bit brighter than the hallway, making it easier to see. The layout helps as well, all the tables are pushed up against the wall, so there are no possible hiding spots. You do want to be on the safe side so you crouch down, making sure Sherry isn't hiding under any of the tables. She is small after all.

You turn to Wesker, whispering "She isn't here." 

He nods, agreeing with your observation. "Next room then."

You agree, making your way out and into the next room. 

It yields the same results, and so does the third. By the fourth you believe there is some progress to be made.

This time when you open the door you can hear a slight shuffling from the inside. Again it makes you freeze. Wesker places a hand on your shoulder and passes you, taking the first steps into this room. You follow close by, taking a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure nothing follows you in.

You realise this is the specimen room for the hunters Umbrella is in the process of developing. They are still just notes on paper at the moment, nothing much to show for, but hopefully there will be some progress with testing and samples within the next few months. 

Glancing to the right you notice something red on the floor. A small piece of fabric it seems. Taking a step closer and crouching down you notice it's a hairband. It's small, and you quickly realise it looks like the ones Sherry was wearing earlier, to match her strawberry dress.

"Sherry," you whisper into the room, hoping you can coax her out of hiding if she is still here.

"Sherry, your dad is worried about you, we've come to bring you to him." You attempt to sound sweet and happy, not panicked and on edge. 

You stand up and look at Wesker who seems to be waving you over. He points to something on your left side, hiding behind a rolling cabinet.

Her red dress pokes out, even in the dim light you would recognise it anywhere.

It's like the worry lifts off you as you take two quick steps over to her.

"Sherry," you whisper again, not wanting to scare her. You don't want her to start screaming or crying.

She sniffles and moves further into the corner, making herself into a little ball. You frown, feeling very sorry for her. Her teary eyes shine right up at you, glistening in the little light there is, the tear tracks running down her small face. She looks absolutely terrified.

You crouch down, keeping at an arms length away from her. Wesker does the same. She reacts to your movements, closing her eyes, but doesn't move from her spot in the corner.

Her eyes open after it's been a moment and you take your chance to speak. "Hey, do you remember us?"

She nods, another sniffle following after. You seem to be more favourable to her as she keeps her eyes on you, avoiding Wesker's gaze with a timid expression. Stretching your hand out to her, you wait for her to take it.

"Yeah? How about we take you upstairs, huh? Then you can be with your dad, and you can play, how does that sound?"

Sherry seems to contemplate your offer for a moment, looking around the room for a moment before letting out a small sound. You can only guess that is her saying yes, so you reach your hand out, waiting for her to grab it.

Expecting her hand to find yours softly you are surprised when you are knocked off balance, her body clinging to your own. Wesker holds you up, waiting until you can balance on your own. "Hey, it's okay Sherry, we're here, you're safe." You're surprised at how quickly she jumped into your arms. She cries quietly into your chest, her small hands fisting the fabric of your top. A few blubbers of words can be heard here and there, nothing you can really make out.

"Sherry," you whisper, attempting to gain her attention. She stops herself from crying, but doesn't look up. "Sherry, I need you to keep quiet so we can get out of here, okay?"

There is no answer from her, her small body shaking with silent cries. You want to comfort her more, but you've already spent enough time in the lab, you need to get out now. As long as she keeps quiet, you'll be fine.

"We should go now." Wesker mutters from behind you.

You stand up, picking Sherry up along with you, balancing her on your hip as her face remains tucked into your neck. Stroking her hair softly you turn around, facing Wesker, and the door. The sight you are met with makes you freeze.

The door creeks open softly as a dark shadow crawls along the ceiling into the room. 

A licker.

They were still in the testing faze, an unstable creature that no one knows the capabilities of quite yet. Obviously you know what the plan was originally, but the first batch is always more of a test than a final product. All you know is that they are blind, an error in one of the DNA strains, but they can hear well. Other than their blindness you have no idea if they have any other weaknesses, or what exactly they are capable of. Judging by the extreme growth of their claws you don't want to find out.

Wesker glances behind himself, noticing the licker coming in. He ushers you towards the back of the room quietly, behind a bookshelf. You hold Sherry closer to yourself, not wanting her to accidentally see the terrifying creature. 

Your eyes are panicked as you try to calm your breathing. Essentially you are trapped in the room with it. "What do we do," you whisper into his ear, not wanting Sherry to hear a word.

He alternates looking at Sherry and peeking through the shelf, keeping an eye on the creature. 

"I will walk out, get a gun and distract it, there is a pocket pistol in one of the safety cabinets on the left."

You shake your head, absolutely hating the idea."No, it's too dangerous, there has to be something else we can do."

Lifting his glasses up you see how serious he is. "There isn't, if you and Sherry are to get out I have to do this. We have no idea what unknown properties this first batch of lickers has. Staying here is not an option."

Wesker, places a hand on Sherry's shoulder, she flinches at first, a shake you can feel very clearly. "Sherry, listen to me, I need you to be very brave and listen." You can feel her nod her small head, but still she doesn't turn around to look at him. 

"I will be going now, but you will be very safe and taken care of. The only thing you need to do is not look and stay quiet, can you do that?"

You shake your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. "Al, please."

Then he looks at you. Those piercing blue eyes make you question everything. You can see they hold so much worry, not for himself, but for the two of you. "And I need you to be brave, for Sherry." He adds, speaking only to you now.

He places a kiss on your forehead, to be brave you tell yourself. Then he leaves, making his way out of the room as quietly as possible, leaving no time for you to say or do anything to stop him. You glance at the licker, it stays put on the ceiling, not having noticed Wesker pass by.

You just stand there with Sherry in your arms, ready to run when his signal calls for it.

Writing this chapter felt like a BREEZE compared to chapter 7. (That was torture to write, idk why tho)

You look up and immediately notice how dischevelled he looks, additionally he is late. Well, by Wesker's standards.

Usually, he looks pristine when he walks into the office. His clothes always look like he just finished ironing them. Whether that be a shirt, a normal sweater, his trousers, a tie. You suspect he even irons his socks out. You've never asked though.

His clothes do not look like that now.

From head to toe he looks like, well he looks like a normal person, better even, but it's Wesker, so something isn't right.

His right shoe has a small scuff on it, the bottom of his trouser legs are dirty, his shirt is slightly wrinkled and he has pulled the sleeves up, his forearm on display.

You stare for a moment too long, admiring the muscle you never really have a chance to see, typically covered by the lab coat he wears. Snapping out of your thoughts you continue to look over his appearance. Along with the wrinkles in the shirt, he isn't wearing a tie, the top button left undone. On purpose or accident, you aren't sure yet.

The last thing is his hair. 

Most days, actually every day he has it slicked back. Not enough product to make it look greasy, just enough to make it look sleek, in a tasteful way. It still resembles his usual hair, only it has a few pieces sticking out here and there.

Again, by any normal person's standards he still looks good, really good actually, but not his usual self.

"What happened?" You ask while standing up, concern lacing your tone.

Wesker sighs, putting his briefcase down beside his desk, its usual place. "Car crash," he replies before raising his hand to stop you from interrupting. "I wasn't in the crash, but I was there at the scene, so I had to help out."

He sits down and you walk over, concern still painting your face.

"What happened, was everyone okay? Are you okay? Should I get you something?" You ask as you check him over again, attempting to spot any injuries you might have missed at first glance.

He breathes out an amused chuckle, a brief smile adorning his face at your concern. "It all ended well, no one was injured, just shaken up, and I am fine, unharmed," he motions to himself, making it clear he has no injuries.

You want to protest, tell him to take a second to breathe before he starts his work, but he is already up and ready to go.

Picking up his lab coat he pulls his shirt sleeves over his arms, much to your disappointment. 

Before he makes his way to the lab you stop him, hand on his shoulder. A sudden moment of bravery washing over you.

His eyebrow raises in questioning before you reach up with your free hand, raking through his hair, pushing that one stubborn strand back. You avoid looking at his eyes through his glasses, focusing on the task at hand. "There, now you can go," you say, patting his shoulder, signalling your work is done.

He stares for a moment, adjusting his sleeves again before seemingly snapping out of the trance. Thanking you he leaves, making his way down the hall.

Once you are sure he has left, you slump down in your chair, letting out a breath of air you weren’t aware you were holding in.

"So how is work going?" Jane asks, taking a seat opposite you in the booth.

Yesterday she had asked if you wanted to accompany her to lunch, wanting to try out a new restaurant that had opened in town a few weeks back. You had agreed, telling her you would find a spot and she would come after finishing up her duties.

"It's going fine, the licker project we are currently working on should be finished within next week. That is if things go to plan, you know how things can go," you reply, handing her a menu across the table.

So far the restaurant seemed nice. The staff were welcoming and kind, having shown you to a nice spot by the window. You appreciated it, being able to people watch as you had waited for Jane.

She glances at the menu, skimming through the various lunch options. "I think I might have the club sandwich, what about you?" Her eyes find yours as she folds her menu together and places it in its stand.

You mirror her actions, placing it in front of hers. "I think I'll have the same. Someone ordered it when I first walked in and it looked really good."

You both talk for a moment longer before a waitress comes over, notepad in hand, ready to take your order. "What can I get you ladies?" She asks after you finish your sentence, a bright smile on her face. 

"I will have an ice tea," Jane replies, then motions for you to give your drink order.

"The same for me, and for lunch we will each have the club sandwich," you add, giving Jane a quick glance, waiting for her confirmation. She nods and looks at the waitress as she hurriedly scribbles your order down.

"Will that be all?" The girl asks, looking up from the paper, ready to step away from the table.

"That is all," you reply kindly. 

"Hope it won't take long, I'm starving." Jane mutters as the waitress leaves.

You smile, almost laugh before replying. "I'm sure you will manage Jane."

"So, what else is new at work? I saw Wesker was late today, you know why?" She asks curiously, tapping her fingers on the table impatiently.

Leaning back into the booth you reply as Jane waits intently for your answer. "He said there was some car crash and he had to help out, he said everyone was fine, just shaken up." You can tell she is about to reply but the waitress comes over at the same time, carrying an ice tea in each hand. 

She places them on the table, one in front of you, the other beside Jane. You both thank her in turn and wait for her to leave once again. 

"Good, it wasn't serious." Then she laughs under her breath. 

You smile, wanting to know what's so funny. "What?" 

She stirs the ice around her glass before replying, a subtle smirk plastered on her face. "I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he showed up to the office like that more often though."

Your brown raises, not entirely sure what she means. You take a sip before replying. "What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, you can't tell me you didn't find him particularly attractive with his hair ruffled like that, and his arms, does he work out?" 

"Jane, you are married!" You scold her teasingly before giving your own answer. "He seems to live in the lab for most of the week, so I'm not sure when he has the time for workouts."

It's silent for a moment before Jane speaks up again. "You still didn't say what you think."

"Think of what?" You say, playing a bit dumb.

"Of Wesker."

"I think he is my co-worker."

"That you find attractive and that you like?" She prompts, giving you a look.

"Maybe a bit?" You mutter, trying to avoid her gaze, looking over to what you assume is the kitchen door.

"I knew it!" Jane exclaims excitedly.

"How?"

"When Miss Tricell was over, you were so jealous it was crazy."

"I was not!" You defend loudly, then remember you are in a public place. "I was not," you repeat, more quiet this time.

Jane just rolls her eyes at your reply, already having made her mind up. "Yeah yeah, anyway, what are you going to do about it?" 

"Nothing..."

"No, come on, you would work out so well together." She pouts, taking another sip of her ice tea.

"Jane, honestly, I am not planning on doing anything about it because we are co-workers and friends. He trusts me a lot, and I trust him a lot. I don't want to break that trust, it took a while to build."

"But he likes you," she counters, emphasising with her hand.

"He told you that?" You ask, puzzled as to how she would even know that.

"No, but I've seen how he looks at you, and how he talks to you. That back and forth banter you do, I mean seriously."

You just shrug, not wanting to believe her words just yet. "We're both sarcastic people, what can I say?"

"He's worked at Umbrella for the whole time I've been here and I've never seen him like that, honestly."

"Jane please," you plead, then notice the food is on its way over. 

The waitress smiles at you both, placing the plates on the table. "Here are the club sandwiches, hope it all tastes good," she adds before leaving you to eat. 

"He does like you though, he is absolutely smitten with you." Jane says, circling back to what you were talking about.

"Yet he doesn't say anything," you counter, taking a bite of your food. It tastes absolutely amazing compared to the food offered at Umbrella. You make a mental note to come back here.

Jane clears her throat, ready to get her point across. "Ehem, saving you from the Umbrella facility, spending seven hours waiting for you to wake up, begging you to not take the Tricell job, and not to mention how he knew you were jealous about Estella. I think that is his way of saying he cares about you.”

You just huff, placing your sandwich down. However, Jane already has something to add.

"Just give him a chance and see what happens." 

There is no point in arguing with Jane anymore. She has her mind set on this, so the only option is to accept it and leave it. "Fine, but no promises okay?"

"Perfect," Jane replies, seemingly happy to get you to agree.

And that is that. The rest of the lunch is spent talking about other things. Or so you would like to think. Your mind seems to drift back to the conversation. Was it just Jane saying these things, or had she made you realise that there really was something going on.

"Didn't want to spend lunch with me?" Wesker asks as you walk in. 

It takes you by surprise, his forwardness. It makes you think of the things Jane had said, but you shake your head, not wanting to get ahead of yourself, or let her words dictate what you do. Instead you just shake your head as you smile at his comment, knowing he is just joking.

"I spend my whole day with you," you counter, sitting by the lab table. Your sample is already prepared for you, probably his doing.

"And I enjoy that."

You turn your head, snapping to him. "You do?"

"I thought I made that clear?"

You just stare. You suppose it had been obvious, if he didn't enjoy spending time with you he wouldn't be doing it.

"I just figured we’re co-workers, friends, so it’s natural to spend time with you," you say, testing the waters.

"I don't tolerate just anyone," he mutters before going back to his work. 

You smile to yourself before doing the same.

Continuing the titration you find one of them not working out quite like you had hoped.

You turn around, too abruptly for your own good, bumping straight into Wesker who happened to be doing the exact same thing. An unfortunate mistake that becomes more unfortunate once you realise he has spilled something all over your arm, soaking your lab sleeve.

He quickly places the glass vials to the side and grabs your other arm. As he walks you to the sink he tugs the soaked lab coat off, placing it somewhere on the floor. 

"I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful," you apologise, letting him take the lead. "What was that anyway?"

"Wash that off now while I get something for it," he instructs, turning the tap on and pulling your arm under the stream. He sounds slightly worried.

"Albert, what was that?" You repeat, as you keep your arm in place under the freezing water.

Once again he ignores your question. Instead he makes his way to a small supply closet. You can hear him rummaging around, looking for something.

He returns just a moment later, placing two bottles on the tabletop and turning the tap off. "Dry your arm and let me see," he insists, handing you a towel. 

You sit down on the chair behind you as you start to dry your arm. Tapping the towel into the skin you notice it's all red, raw and mottled, small blisters starting to form.

"It burns," you comment softly, attempting to hide the pain from him.

"Give it here," Wesker whispers, an attempt to calm you. 

He reaches his hand out, holding your arm softly, as carefully as possible. Then he takes the pre soaked cotton wool and begins dabbing it into the skin on your arm.

"What is that?" You ask, whincing in pain.

His focus is on the task at hand, watching your arm instead of your expression. "A blend of hydrofluoric acid with a stimulant I have been testing."

The sting increases, and you can't help but exclaim out in pain, retracting your arm from his hold. "Ouch, that really hurts, it burns."

He looks at you, concerned, but also confused. "It shouldn't hurt that much, that should have helped."

"Well it does," you snap. You don't intend to be so harsh, but it really is painful, and the blistering seems to be getting worse.

Instead of continuing with the hydrofluoric acid, he picks up another bottle, soaking another cotton round with its liquid. 

You look at him sceptically, but present your arm to him anyway. "It's an alkali, so it should neutralise the effect of the acid I spilled, stay still," he encourages, but waits for your confirmation before continuing. 

You nod, agreeing with his reasoning, it's not like it could be any worse, right?

He dabs at the wound and you flinch again, the pain even worse. "Ouch, ouch, no, that hurts even more," you exclaim, pulling your arm away again, tears gathering in your eyes from the pain. 

He places the cotton down and moves over to the sink again, opening the tap and waiting for it to turn cold again. 

"Try the water again, it seemed to work out the best." He seems defeated, not sure what to do anymore. 

You nod before standing up and stepping over to the sink. Then you place your arm back under the stream and you feel instant relief from the cold, that is before it starts burning again.

"Burns?" Wesker asks, placing his glasses on top of his head, as if to get a better look at you. 

Your vision is blurry from the remaining tears, they haven't fallen, they just linger on your lashline. "Yes, but not as bad as the other things."

He nods and takes a step closer, his own hand finding yours under the stream of constant water. He runs his finger along the skin, getting a feel for the uneven texture of the blistering. 

You grimace, but it hurts less than it did a few minutes ago. 

"I think that's fine, my arm will go numb with the cold," you mutter and he abides, turning the tap off and leading you back to the table with the supplies he brought out.

Again you have to dry your arm, this time he does it for you. Gently tapping the soft cotton of the towel on the blistering skin. "Okay?" He asks softly, catching your gaze, making sure he isn't hurting you.

"Okay," you confirm as you wipe your eyes with your free hand. "How does it look?"

Wesker waits for a moment before replying, his movements stilling. "Red and annoyed, but better, the blistering is going down." He carries a sincere expression when you open your eyes to look at him.

"I'm sorry." he mutters as he lets go of your arm. Then he turns around, picking up the various bottles he had pulled out for your injury.

You turn around on your chair, following his movements. "Why?" 

His movements still for a moment. "You got hurt because of me, I should have been more careful." He seems genuinely upset.

"So should I," you counter, smiling at him kindly. 

Shaking his head he picks up a bottle and starts walking back to the supply closet. "I don't like when you are hurt." It's a quiet confession, hesitant even.

"Like at the hospital?" You question while looking at your arm, the blistering is practically gone. The magic of Umbrella you suppose.

He returns a moment later, striding over to the chair in front of you, taking a seat. Instead of answering right away he simply takes hold of your wrist and runs his other hand along your arm, a shiver running through you at the contact.

"Yes, like at the hospital," he finally answers, looking at you intently. His eyes are so blue, so intense to look at.

Simply breathing you just watch, looking from his eyes, and when that gets too much, at his hand that strokes your arm.

"How does it feel now? The blistering is practically gone," he observes as he continues to run his fingers up and down your arm. It's honestly just a bit red now, like a light sunburn.

Exhaling softly you reply. "It does, it feels better, yes."

"Good, do you want me to wrap it or just leave it?" He questions, letting your arm go. 

You mourn the contact but don't dwell on it. 

"I think it will be best to just leave it, I'm not too keen on aggravating it again."

He accepts your answer, taking the glasses off his head and putting them on. "Very well, you go ahead to the office and I will sort out your titrations."

"No, it's fine, I can do it, really."

"I insist," he counters, already standing in your way, preventing you from getting back to your station. 

"Fine then, I'll do your paperwork, a fair trade I think." 

He nods and waits for you to leave.

You hesitate for a moment before taking a step closer to him.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you whisper, standing on your toes and placing a quick kiss to his jaw. An additional thank you.

You don't have time to see his reaction. You're already turning around and leaving, cheeks flushed and a smile plastered on your face.

Chapter 8 should be released a bit quicker than this part did, but only time can tell.

Next part

"Again, we apologise for the inconvenience Miss." 

It was a lousy apology from the manager, but what else could you really say other than "Thank you."

Nancy, the manager, continues typing on the keyboard. Clicking away, making sure your new room is secured and ready for you. 

The person to your right is having a lot less luck than you are.

"No! My room is supposed to be 210, but yesterday I was told it was occupied. No, no, do you even know who I am?"

You glance over at him, your brow raising slightly before turning back to Nancy. She attempts to explain something about the new keycard, but it's quite hard to hear over Zeno's shouting.

It's funny really. Usually he carries himself with the utmost composure. It truly is the little things that make him snap. You would know, often testing that fine line, just for fun.

"Sir, as I already explained, the room was double booked. The occupant that is already there checked in before you, company policy states that they have the right to stay there."

"So give me another room." He exclaims, albeit in a slightly lower tone.

The poor receptionist seems absolutely defeated, probably not paid enough to deal with crap like this. "Like I told you in the beginning, we are unfortunately fully booked, if there was anything I could do for you I would." He attempts a small smile, trying to diffuse the situation. Or perhaps he is bracing for the oncoming verbal assault you can feel incoming.

Zeno takes a breath. You can tell he is thinking about a solution, in reality he probably wants to take his gun out and shoot the poor boy standing there. 

You go back to listening to Nancy, thinking that the situation is over, oh how wrong you are.

From your peripheral vision you can see Zeno point to you. "She just moved out of her room, surely you could arrange for that to be cleared for me to stay in?"

His receptionist looks over at you, then at Nancy who is most likely his supervisor. She stops talking and turns to the both of them. "Unfortunately sir, but since there is a technical issue with the room we cannot have guests staying in it."

Zeno simply huffs out a laugh. "Funny, yet she had to stay in that room last night."

"It was an oversight." Nancy counters calmly.

You just roll your eyes while Zeno laughs again. You just want to get to your room so you can unpack again.

Nancy picks up the keycard intended for your room before speaking again, pointing between the two of you. "You seem to know each other."

You cross your arms before looking at Zeno again, then back at Nancy. "You could say that, yes."

"Now," she starts and you can already tell it won't be something either of you are going to like. "This may be unethical, but would you perhaps consider sharing the room you will be moved into? There is a pull out sofa." She clasps her hands together seemingly thrilled with her genius idea. 

You don’t even consider it for a second before you both mutter. "Absolutely not," in unison.

"Then sir, unfortunately the only option we can offer you is an empty broom closet."

His eyes narrow at Nancy before looking at you. "I wish I could make you stay in a closet."

You just sigh in defeat, finally taking your key and grabbing Zeno by the sleeve, tugging hard to get him to move. "Come on then."

"That is not a pull out sofa," he says, arms crossed as he observes how short it is.

From his left side you shout back, organising your clothes into the wardrobe. "It is, it’s just a bit small by your standards, but I'm sure you'll make due." You say while you smile to yourself. 

He simply glances at you from the room. "How about you sleep on the sofa? I believe you would fit nicely."

You laugh, but not in an amused way. "Oh no way, remember, this is my room and I am letting you stay here out of the kindness of my heart." To emphasise your point you place your hand over your heart, really selling the part.

Instead of answering, he grumbles, not able to think of anything to counter your argument. So he picks up his laptop and leaves the room without another word.

You just shrug to yourself as you stand up, closing the door to the wardrobe and picking up your things. Your bag, laptop and ID, ready to head off to the first seminar of the day. With your position in the connections being so high up, you had to partake in most of the seminars for the day, much to your displeasure.

At 11.54 pm your last meeting ends. Finally, you think as you walk back to your room, feet sore from standing up all day. You can’t wait to have a scalding hot shower and be able to sleep in a room that wasn’t in the negatives.

You place your card in the lock, waiting for the click of the lock. It doesn’t work the first time so you try again. This time it makes a slight buzz and then it clicks open. 

Stepping into the room it’s dim, not dark. Definitely not how you left it. "Are you there?" you call out as you lock the door behind you, placing the keycard in its slot. There is no reply, but you spot his shoes to your right so you know he is there.

After kicking your shoes off you make your way into the room. To your right the sofa is folded up, not occupied. You turn to the king sized bed on the left and see Zeno. There he sits, against the headboard, laptop open, shining on his face in the dim lighting. 

Crossing your arms to stand by the foot of the bed, eyeing him. "Who told you that you could get into bed?"

"I decided," he mutters, not taking his eyes away from his screen.

You open your mouth, about to argue, but quickly realise there is no point. "I’m too tired to deal with this now, but know I am not happy about it."

"I’ll make a mental note." He jokes, still typing away on the keyboard.

You just grab your bathroom essentials, then get in the bathroom, locking the door behind you. A warm shower is exactly what you need. 

Exiting the bathroom a cloud of steam follows close behind. You walk over to the wardrobe, putting your clothes away before walking back towards the bed, taking your side of the bed.

You practically sink into the mattress. It’s much softer than the previous one you had slept on, something you really appreciate. The room just feels nicer in general, which is probably due to the fact that it is a comfortable temperature. It smells nice as well, that freshly washed laundry smell, along with…

"Did you smoke in the room?" You ask, nose scrunched in accusation.

He turns to glance at you for a moment. "I did not. I had some decency not to after deciding I would be stealing the bed tonight as well."

You laugh. "Good to know you aren’t completely heartless." You turn around as you speak, lying down and letting your head fall onto the pillow.

"Mhm," he mutters.

After that it’s all quiet, just the occasional click of the keyboard. 

It’s not the sound that bothers you. In all honesty you find it slightly relaxing, what does bother you is the bright light from the screen. Somehow it’s so bright you can see it through your closed eyelids. No wonder he needs glasses, you think to yourself with a laugh.

"Turn that off," you mutter, the first warning.

"Just a moment," he replies.

So you give him a moment, until it's about 5 minutes later and he is still typing.

Your eyes open and turn over, arm reaching for the back of the screen until you can slam the laptop shut.

"Watch it!" He exclaims, glaring at you.

"No, you watch it, I'm trying to sleep," you reply with a yawn, rolling over so your back faces him.

He mutters something under his breath but you can't quite make it out, not that you really care though, you are already on your way to fall asleep.

Waking up in the middle of the night isn’t odd for you, it happens here and there. Tonight however, you desperately need the bathroom. You suppose that drinking too much water before bed is never a great idea. 

You open your eyes halfway and are about to get up before you realise you are being pulled down by something. Taking a second glance you quickly realise that that something is Zeno's arm, wrapped around you. 

"Let go of me," you whisper-shout, needing to wake him to move.

He stirs for a moment before letting out a low sound, a confused mumble. "Hmm?"

"I need to pee," you reply, trying to pry his arm off at the same time. 

His grip loosens and you dash to the bathroom, making your break quick. 

You return after a moment, lifting the cover up and slipping into bed once again. 

Instead of staying on your own side now, you scoot closer to him. Your head finding a space in the crook of his neck. 

He says nothing at first, his hand simply finds the small of your back, then he pulls you close.

"Cold again are we?" He mutters after a moment, his thumb stroking a pattern into your skin. 

"No," you whisper, your voice muffled by his neck. 

You can tell he is smiling when he utters the next words, probably finding the situation amusing. "I see."

"Just sleep," you mutter, quietly as you snuggle closer to him.

He speaks into the top of your head, his breath warm on your hair. "You woke me."

"Just sleep."

"Very well."

Part 3

I am not planning on making this into a long series (as of now). There may be a part 3 if I think of something interesting, or if someone gives me an idea.

Your commute to work takes a shorter amount of time than you expect, the traffic being quite light. It surprises you, but you don't mind, obviously.

After parking the car, you make your way into the building, taking the cup filled with tea with you. Once you enter through the door you greet Jane like usual, having a small chat about your weekend. She tells you she spent it with her husband at their beach house. You smile, telling her that sounds very nice and continue into the building.

As you walk into your office you spot a woman sitting there. She has a tight, slicked back bun on top of her head, a brunette. Her outfit is prim and proper, a nice fitted shirt and from what you can tell a skirt. The odd thing is, well two odd things. The first is that she is sitting in your office, the second is that she is sitting in your chair. Again, you have no idea who she is.

"Can I help you?" You ask, placing your bag on Wesker's desk, seeing as your own is occupied. 

The woman looks up. "Oh, sorry, this is your spot I assume." Her voice is sickly sweet, almost fake sounding. You assume she will get up, but she doesn't. Instead she stays seated, like she owns the chair.

You continue to look at her, waiting for her to get the hint. "I'm Estella Blake, Albert told me I could wait here," she adds, reaching out to shake your hand. Deciding to be polite you reach out and shake it. "Albert?" You question. 

"Albert Wesker," she clarifies, and somehow it makes you mad. You aren't stupid, of course you know who Albert is, it's just, no one ever refers to him by his first name, definitely not strangers.

"Of course yes, but who are you?" You ask again, not really sure what relation she has to him. 

"I'm Estella, Estella Blake," she says again with a laugh. Now you think she must be stupid.

"I heard you the first time, I mean what business do you have here?" You have no patience for her anymore, just wanting your desk back so you can start your work. 

Estella laughs as if what you say is really funny. "Oh, I'm here to accompany Albert, well Wesker in your case, Tricell sent me to secure a deal." She smiles to herself as she looks at her nails. They seem freshly manicured.

Her words really make your blood boil, but you keep yourself composed. 

"What type of deal?"

Her head snaps up, like she realises she got the attention she wanted from you. "Classified I'm afraid." 

"Huh," you say, crossing your arms.

Just then Wesker comes in. As he does, it seems like Estella perks up, sitting up straighter in your chair, puffing her chest up and fluttering her lashes at him. You could laugh at the scene, but you settle for a snort instead, turning your head to avoid being seen. 

It seems like Wesker chooses to ignore it. "I see you've met my partner," he says, motioning to you. You can't help but beam at his words, just a bit. "Sorry, I told Estella she could sit in your chair while I went to sort her ID card out," he adds, sitting down at his own desk. 

You shake your head, "no worries," not really meaning your own words.

As you speak, Estella gets up. Walking over to Wesker, she places her hands on his shoulders with another fake smile, directed at you. Instantly you dislike her more. You don't like her as a person, or her personality, and you just met her.

"She will be with me the whole day."

Great, you think to yourself, just amazing. 

"I see," you say, eyeing him skeptically. "Well, I'll leave you to it then."

She seems to completely ignore you. Obviously in her own world, well, her and Wesker's world now. To emphasise that, she takes your chair and places it next to his. Then she takes a seat, leaning on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his own. If you were Wesker, Estella would have been sent out ages ago. You find it odd how Wesker hasn't done so. Instead he just doesn't care, so you tell yourself that you don't either.

It's finally lunchtime and you are so glad to finally get a small break, both from work and... a certain someone. From morning til now you have spotted Wesker and Estella a total of seven times, parading throughout the facility. Each time it seems like Estella merges further into Wesker. At first it's just a hand on his arm, then both hands, then arms wrapped fully around him. At the end of the day you worry they might actually become conjoined. You shudder at the thought, knowing you wouldn't last a single day with her in the office.

Still you can't think of why, but the whole situation just makes you uncomfortable. It's like being sick, or knowing something is really wrong, a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Your discomfort must be obvious because Jane comments on it, noticing how you glare at the two of them across the cafeteria. 

"If you had lasers instead of eyes, I'm pretty sure she would be dead by now," Jane says, pointing at Estella with her salad fork. "What do you have against her anyway? Didn't you just meet her?" She asks, placing another mouthful of salad in her mouth, chewing after. 

You look back to Jane, narrowing your eyes at her. "Her name is Estella Blake," you say, mocking her in the same tone she had told you her own name. "And I don't know," you feel slightly bad, not wanting to mock someone you just met, but she really hadn't made a good first impression. "Nothing, she hasn't really done anything that drastic, I just don't like her, or how she acts, or her personality." Shaking your head you look back to Estella and Wesker, her arms once again around his, holding it hostage. 

Jane laughs before commenting. "So you just don't like anything about her." You shrug, you can't really deny that statement.

"If I didn't know better, I would say you are jealous because she stole your man."

Your head snaps back to look at Jane, baffled at her statement. "I am not jealous, and he isn't mine, he is my co worker, my friend." You go back to eating, finishing up your meal.

"Friend...right," she says, but not adding anything more. Instead she takes another bite of her salad and continues on another topic, a book she had read recently.

As Jane continues to talk, you can't help yourself from looking across the room, eyes narrowing at the sight you have to endure for the rest of your lunch break.

After lunch you say goodbye to Jane, and once again have to emphasise that you are not jealous. She can take your words however she wants them, you don't care, right? Before returning to the office you stop in the printer room, needing some documents copied. 

You walk in and spot Estella standing there, shockingly by herself. She hasn't noticed you yet and for a moment you think to come back later. Unfortunately for you, it's too late. 

"Oh hello!" She greets you as if you are best friends. "You're the one that works for Albert, am I right?" 

You take a deep breath as you scan your card, starting the printer up. "I work with him, yes."

She taps on the printer and you are just waiting for her to mess something up. "Oh well, same thing. I do hope you don't mind I've stolen him from you today," she continues, tapping on the printer, barely missing the cancel button by a millimetre. "I imagine you can expect to see him less in the future, especially with this deal secured. He told you didn't he? We signed the contract during lunch, maybe you saw us?" 

"I think I saw you when I left," you reply, not wanting her to know it was practically impossible to miss them.

"Anyway, it was nice talking to you, I love your hair," she adds before leaving the room. There is no time to reply, but you don't want to anyway, purposefully keeping your mouth shut. Additionally, the compliment sounds entirely backhanded, not that you care what this random woman thinks.  

After picking up your fresh copies you return to your office, locking the door behind you. You really just want to get back to work, and avoid seeing Estella again.

Just as you sit down you can hear a key unlocking the door, opening with a click. Just great.

"Do you mind?" Wesker says as he enters, closing the door and locking it once again.

"If I remember correctly, this is our shared office, so no, I don't mind," you say, motioning to the room. "Your girlfriend isn't with you?" You add, curious to see what he will say to your comment.

"What girlfriend? Miss Blake you mean?" He pauses, then continues, walking around the office, pacing more like it. "Definitely not my girlfriend, and I hope no one else's, she is horrendous to be around." You know Wesker to be blunt, but this surprises even you.

"So why be around her?" You ask, watching him pace.

"The deal, I was told that I had to secure it, by pretty much any means necessary. It was the only reason I was tolerating her. I honestly have no idea how her co-workers manage. Thankfully, we secured it at lunchtime."

"So that was all just acting?" You ask, feeling like a weight has been lifted. 

He turns to face you, crossing his arms as he stands there, watching. "Pretty convincing?" He seems to ask, but continues before you can answer, walking over to stand behind you. "Jealous I was spending time with someone else but you?" He teases, placing his hands on the desk in front of you, effectively caging you in from behind. He looks at the stack of papers you are signing before sparing a glance at your face.

Suddenly you become shy, having him so close to you, it's unaccustomed, but not unwelcome. "No, definitely not."

"And you definitely aren't lying," he jokes before standing back up and returning to his chair, leaving you to hold your breath in anticipation. 

A knock can suddenly be heard from the other side of the door, followed by a very new, but very familiar voice from today. "Albert, are you there?"

Wesker's gaze locks to yours, his eyes seemingly pleading from behind his lenses, as if he is asking you to handle it.

Hesitantly you get up, walking to the door and unlocking it. "Hi," you say, greeting Estella as the door stays open, just a crack. 

Completely ignoring you, she stands on her toes, trying to get a look over you. She manages to spot Wesker 'hiding' in the corner at his desk, back turned to the both of you. 

"Albert!" Estella exclaims, pushing the door open, you along with it.

"Would you walk me to my taxi Albert? I have to leave now," she asks, pouting as she flutters her lashes in his direction. Just like she had done earlier. 

Without looking up, he answers, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm occupied at the moment, and I would prefer if you called me Wesker, like everyone else."

Like earlier in the day you snort, not able to contain yourself. Placing a hand over your mouth you turn around so she can't see you laughing. 

Estella lets out a 'humf' before marching out the door, hopefully never to be seen again.

"Amused are we?" He asks, turning his head over to look at you. 

You dry a tear from the corner of your eye before replying. "Oh, highly amused."

"She was horrendous," he says honestly, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"You don't say," you reply back, being perfectly honest.

"I hope I never have to deal with her again, I couldn't stand being referred to as Albert all day."

"That's your name though?" You say, stating that you never really hear anyone use his first name.

"Yes, but I prefer to be called Wesker," he explains, not giving you much more reasoning than that.

"And if I call you Albert?" You test, not expecting him to like that.

He shrugs, not thinking about it for more than a second. "I don't think I would mind if you did."

You can't mask your surprise, but it quickly turns into a smile. "Very well, Albert Wesker."

He just smiles, putting his glasses back on.

Next part

It's dark out, raining and you love it.

In the background you can hear a soft song playing, you aren't sure what it is yet, but it fits the atmosphere.

Sitting by the window you watch as the water droplets race down the pane. The blanket sits curled around you, keeping you warm and cosy.

It should be another while until Wesker comes home.

Usually he is on time, but today he had called, letting you know he would be late for dinner.

You understand, his work is important, and honestly it's not like it happens often, so you let it slide. Just this once, but you expect him to make it up to you.

A minute passes by, the lightning lighting up the sky for just a moment. The following sound of thunder masks the front door opening.

You continue to gaze out the window, at two particular raindrops, making them race.

Just then you feel two arms wrap around from behind you, making you shriek.

"Relax dearheart, it's me,"

His voice is like a soothing balm. The familiar words whispered in your ear instantly calming you.

You melt into his embrace, turning your body around to hug him. The blanket falling to the floor.

"You said you would be late," you whisper into his neck, inhaling deeply, comforted by his smell.

"I finished early, somehow," he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You pull away from him, demanding a proper kiss from him.

"I am very happy to hear that," you say with a smile.

"And I am very happy to be home to my beautiful wife," he replies back as you both stand, facing the great big window.

"I love when it rains," you mutter, watching the droplets again.

Before he replies he starts pressing kisses to the side of your neck, each one further down than the last. "I know you do,"

You just smile, tilting your head to the side, granting him better access.

You can hear the song clearly now, realising it's a familiar tune.

"Dance with me?" you ask, glancing up at him.

"How could I deny my wife such a request?"

He slides his hands from your waist to your arms until he reaches your hands, taking hold and spinning you around softly so you face him. The song picks up, making you both sway softly to the tune.

Like an image passing by, my love, my life

Taking your hands he places them around his neck before placing his own back on your waist, continuing to sway to the song.

"Do you remember this song?" you ask as you place your head on his chest, listening to how it beats a steady rhythm.

"Our wedding day, of course,"

"mhm," you reply, a simple mumble, hardly audible, but he hears it, of course he does.

And so you continue, a soft sway as the song starts to fade into the night.

It had been about a month since you were hospitalised. Thankfully you only needed to stay for that one night, just to make sure the gas in the old facility hadn't caused any damage to your brain or lungs. Once your tests came back fine you were free to go. Honestly, you were very pleased with that, not wanting to spend another second in that awful room. It felt like your brain was melting from boredom. If you had to stay for longer you probably would have begged Jane, or perhaps Wesker for some entertainment. 

Now you can look back on it as your first, and hopefully last hospitalisation. You can now sit in your own office, doing paperwork, labwork, or whatever else you are needed for. Like now. 

Your boss, James Marcus, had wanted about 50 samples done by the end of the day. Already drowning in other projects that need done, this is not what you need at the moment. "Can't it wait? Or you could assign it to someone else? The new hire maybe?" You plead, attempting to get out of it. 

"Honestly, I don't trust the new hire with this yet, that is why I asked you," James says, placing the 50 documents on the desk, no room left for debate. Before he can close the door he leans back into the office, just the upper part of his body visible. "I forgot to remind you that there is an executive manager from Tricell wanting to speak with you in the afternoon, they will arrive later so I will set the meeting up." With that he leaves, letting you wonder what Tricell could possibly want with you.

In your department it was Wesker that usually met them. He had already established a connection when he visited their startup facility in Africa, a few years back. 

Not dwelling on things you can't change, you start your work on the samples your boss wanted, yet again pushing back your own work. 

The afternoon passes by quickly. So far you have processed about 40 out of the 50 samples Mr. Marcus had wanted, all thanks to the help of Wesker. He had walked into the lab and seen your frantic work pace, deciding you needed some assistance. Not that you weren't competent, he just felt like lending you a hand.

Normally you would question his help, but you are desperate to get this done, especially with the Tricell meeting later, which you still had no clue what was about. 

"Why would they want me?" You ask Wesker as you process the 43rd sample.

"Your expertise I would imagine," he replies, not looking up from the microscope. He continues to observe the petri dish while jotting something down on a piece of paper. 

"But you are usually the one they contact, should I be worried?" You question, not able to help your continuous string of worries. 

"No, it will be fine."

His answer leaves no room for more questions. He seems to be very focused today, not up for much conversation or debate.

Before you can worry any more a knock sounds from behind you. Turning around you spot Jane the receptionist. Behind her stands a man you have never seen before. "Mr Travis is here to see you, from Tricell," she says to you once she sees you have noticed them. 

You nod and take your gloves off, throwing them away before making your way out of the lab. Before you fully leave you spare Wesker one last glance. He looks at you, glasses resting on top of his head so you can see his expression. There is no smile on his face, but his eyes are kind, like he wishes you good luck, knowing you won't need it.

"It's nice to meet you Mr Travis," you say, reaching out to shake the unknown man's hand. His handshake is firm, a proper handshake indeed. "Likewise, I have heard a great deal about you," he explains as Jane begins to lead the way down the hall.

"James Marcus has let you use his office for the meeting, he will be there as well," she explains, pointing to the office you are familiar with. She stops and lets Mr Travis by first, then giving you a thumbs up and a smile. You reciprocate and follow Mr Travis into your boss's office.

"Alright, let's get this started." James Marcus says as he shuts the door behind you, motioning for you to take a seat. You watch him take his own seat behind his desk and wait for someone else to speak.

"I'll get to the point Miss, I don't want to waste anyone's time here." Mr Travis says as he looks from your boss to you. "Since Tricell has been collaborating with Umbrella in the last few months we have been looking to borrow some of their more competent employees for a while, to work at our Africa facility," he begins, explaining the situation. "So I asked James here if he had anyone in mind."

Your thoughts stop up for a moment, processing the information. "Me?" you point to yourself. "You want me to come and work in Africa?"

"Exactly."

"But, I work here, I live here..."

"Obviously, but we would be compensating you heavily for the hassle of moving, and an additional bonus. Truly your previous papers and research has impressed us, and your boss only has good things to say about you."

You look to your boss, then back at Mr. Travis. "How long would I be there for, and would I be coming back here?" You ask, not exactly sure what questions you should be asking.

"We imagine the first contract would last for at least a year, but it could be extended if we have a further need for you." You start to feel a bit expendable to him. "As for returning to Umbrella, you would be able to after a year of completing your duties for Tricell, privacy policy and all that," he adds, laughing it off slightly.

"So I wouldn't be able to return here for at least 2 years?" You ask, brows furrowed. 

"Well yes, or more, it just depends on how effective the research is."

"Okay," you say heavily with a sigh. The deal didn't sound all that bad. You loved your job at the moment and honestly had no plans of relocating in the near future, but this did seem like such an opportunity. You could work in Africa, experience a whole new continent, culture, new people. Additionally you would be heavily compensated. They had shown you the figures. You would be able to not work for about 3-5 years after finishing up there, the paycheck able to cover all your expenses. 

You sit there as your boss and Mr. Travis continue to speak, talking about the move, how the companies would continue to collaborate and how things would end up working. It soon comes to an end as they begin to stand up.

"Thank you for the offer Mr. Travis," you say before you are interrupted. "Please, call me Henry."

You smile a tight lipped smile before resuming what you were going to say. "Henry. Thank you for the offer, it truly seems like an amazing opportunity. However, I will have to think about it, I mean it is a big decision." 

He doesn't seem all that happy with the answer, frowning for a moment before a fake looking smile replaces it. "I understand, but I do hope you will give us an answer within the week, you understand it is something we really want to move along with as quickly as possible." 

You nod and shake his hand, once again thanking him for his time and the offer. 

Before returning to the lab you take a quick bathroom break, needing a moment to compose yourself by splashing your face with ice cold water. 

"How did it go?" Wesker asks. He is still peering into the microscope as you walk through the door. You need to remind him to straighten up when he does that, his posture is awful. 

Not replying instantly you walk over to your station, finding a new pair of gloves and working on what seems to be the last sample. "I got an offer for a job at Tricell in Africa," you explain.

The shattering of glass makes you startle and turn around, only to find one of the beakers Wesker was dealing with, smashed on the floor. His hand stays empty in the air, as if even he is surprised that he dropped it. "What?"

"What happened?" You ask, getting up from your chair and walking over to him, careful to avoid the glass. He still seems in a slight state of shock. The shattered glass must have really got to him, you’ve never seen him so out of it.

"In Africa?"

You ignore him, finding the broom and dustpan, already sweeping up the glass from the floor. Starting with the larger bits you sweep them up, careful not to spread the smaller pieces everywhere. Before you can get to the rest he places his hand over your own, stilling your movements. "Tricell in Africa?" He repeats again as he takes the broom from you, your hands no longer touching. You miss the touch, but don't dwell on it.

"Yes, Tricell in Africa, they said they want me specifically," you explain, not able to discern the expression behind his glasses. You can however see his brows faintly furrowed, confusion perhaps?

"For how long?" He asks, turning around from you and starting to clean up his mess. 

"At least two years before I would be able to come back here, possibly longer." 

He stills. "You aren't planning on taking it are you?" 

You chew on your lip before you reply. "I haven't said anything yet, but it would be a great opportunity."

"You have opportunities here," he replies gruffly, sweeping more haphazardly now.

"Yes, but there are more opportunities there, and they offered me a major pay raise. I wouldn't have to work at all for about five years after." Honestly, you feel like you are explaining things to a child that doesn't understand anything, and you don't really understand why he seems to care so much. You try to step around the glass, to face him, but he seems to turn around as you do so, avoiding your gaze. Stubborn.

"And what will you do with those five years of free time? Waste away? We both know you can't sit still for long." He turns around to look at you, finally, but his tone is harsh now, biting.

"I don't know, relax, travel, work? I never said I wouldn't work, just that I could get away with not working." You emphasise each statement with your hands, feeling frustrated. "Why do you care so much anyway? It's not like you're my husband so I need your approval, and even if you were I still wouldn't need your permission."

That seems to stump him because he has nothing more to say. 

You huff again, trying to gain some patience. "Listen, I was just telling you this, I haven't made a decision yet." You tilt your head, waiting for him to respond.

"I lost my patience, I'm just tired," he says. You can't tell if it's a lie or not.

"Okay," you reply.

"Okay," he says before you both go back to doing your own thing.

"You wanted to see me?" You ask, walking into James Marcus's office.

"Yes, I wanted to discuss the offer you received yesterday." He says, again motioning you to sit down in the same chair as yesterday.

"Okay?" You say, again waiting for him to continue.

"Due to your valuable nature here at Umbrella, we have discussed internally, and we find that it would be more beneficial if you stayed here."

"Was this discussed with Henry Travis?" You ask, slightly confused now.

"No, basically we are making a counter offer, higher pay, higher position, a bonus, if you chose to stay here that is."

"Why?"

"Just because we would prefer that you stay here. It benefits us more than the benefits we would receive if we sent you off to Tricell."

"So this is very much out of the blue..." You state, pausing, not really sure what to say.

"We had a talk yesterday with the board members, and a few other members of staff. This offer is the conclusion of that meeting." He explains, not really elaborating any further.

"Who was at this meeting, if I may ask?"

"I am not at liberty to tell you." He stops before handing you a piece of paper. "This is the information about the new position you would hold here, including the tasks you would carry out, and the additional pay and bonus."

You take the paper and stand, thanking him for the offer before leaving, returning to your own office down the hall.

Once you walk through the door you are greeted by Wesker, standing by the door, arms folded, as if he is waiting for you. "So?" He asks, his expression not letting on much.

You look up at him, trying to look at his eyes through the dark lenses. You see the faint outline of them, the light blue of his iris, truly quite beautiful to look at. "So?" You repeat back to him, confused as to what he wants.

Instead of answering he looks at the paper in your hands, then at you. You seem to understand. "This was your doing?" You ask, baffled.

"My previous partner was… lackluster, I cant lose you to tricell." He explains as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can't believe you would do that," you say, looking back at the paper, sparing another glance at the very large number that is your potential new salary.

"So, what do you say?" He asks, a smile on his face as he takes the paper from you. He walks over to his desk, picking up a pen and is about to sign his name on the bottom, the contract needing a signature from a co-worker as proof of validity. 

"Can you do my paperwork for two weeks if I decide to stay?" you reply, your own smile mirroring his own.

Instead of replying he simply signs the page before handing you the pen.

Next part

The first thing you are aware of is the sound coming from the left. A faint beeping every so often. It sounds like a heart monitor, or at least what you think is a heart monitor. You've never actually heard one in real life, just in films.

It feels odd, finally being in a hospital. You would think that throughout your life or just through your career you would end up there at some point. As a child you had remained healthy, no illnesses, and no broken bones. Your mother had told you that a guardian angel was watching over you, not letting you break anything. How much you believed that, even as a young child is highly debatable. As an adult you find it funny.

You try to remember back to your last moments, before everything had gone dark. It was all a blur, but you remember feeling scared. Scared of dying and not waking up ever again, scared that Wesker would end up finding your cold dead body in that morgue. How fitting.

The room you are in now is bright. You can tell, even with your closed eyes, the light is so bright it shines right through your eyelids, making you squint. Despite the brightness, you make an effort to slowly blink your eyes open, wanting to make sure you really are alive and not just imagining things.

It takes a moment, but you manage to keep them open to inspect your surroundings.

The room is sparse, cold and boring. You suspect someone with no creative touch designed it, everything is so insanely bright and white. Pretty much every surface is as white as a piece of paper right off the printer. The walls, the floors, the ceiling, curtains, shelf, bed and bedding is all the same shade of white. You hate it, you absolutely hate it. Additionally, the bed is so uncomfortable you can't fathom spending more time here than you need. 

You were correct about the heart monitor on your left side. It continues to beep with each heart beat, just like it had a few minutes ago when you first noticed it. Just as you are about to attempt to sit up, a nurse enters the room, her focus clearly on the clipboard in her hands as she hasn't noticed you are awake.

Once she closes the door she sees you looking back at her, eyes obviously open.

"Oh, you're awake," she exclaims, seeming slightly startled. As she nears your bed you can make out her nametag. Sarah, a simple name you'll make sure to remember.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah asks as she tucks the clipboard under her arm and walks to your left side. She glances at the heart monitor, placing the clipboard on a hook before looking back at you, waiting patiently for your reply.

You seem to think for a moment. You feel alright, nothing hurts, but you struggle to remember exactly what happened. "Alright I suppose," you answer truthfully. "But what happened?" You add, wanting to know what had happened after you passed out. 

Sarah walks back around to your right side, tucking the blanket around you a bit tighter before walking to a jug of water by the main door. "There was a security protocol in place, you triggered the system and that room went into a lockdown, basically a gas knocked you out," she summarises, realising she is losing you with the explanation, fatigue probably.

That explains it you suppose. "Oh..." You say, letting out a single sound. "And Wesker, is he alright?" You add, remembering he had been with you on the mission. Your brows are furrowed in concern. You seem to have gotten out fine, but has he?

Your worries calm immediately as Sarah smiles at you in a kind manner. She wouldn't be smiling unless he was fine. "Mr Wesker is perfectly fine, he had no exposure to the gas so he is fine. Actually he was here just a few minutes ago if I am correct, but you weren't awake yet," she explains as she reaches for the empty glass on your side table, filling it up with water. "He seemed quite worried about you, you know?" she adds, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she continues to talking about Wesker.

You reach for the glass with an unsteady hand, your fingers curling around the middle of it. "Really?" You ask after taking a large gulp of the ice cold water, soothing your dry throat. 

"Yes, he wasn't very happy with the first doctor that was assigned to you, demanded another one instantly," she smiles more now, seemingly finding it funny.

"Oh," you say, surprised. You hadn't known Wesker to ever lose his temper like that, at least not as long as you had known him. You try to think of something else to tell Sarah, should you apologise for his behaviour? 

"I'll let you rest, you need it," Sarah says kindly as she tops up the glass before picking the jug up and turning around, ready to leave. You suspect Sarah might be a mind reader, knowing exactly what questions you have for her. "Don't worry, I'll be back to check on you in about an hour, press the button if you need anything," she adds, pointing to the red button on the headrest of your bed. Aha, the only coloured thing in this room. 

She leaves after telling you that, and you think she may not be entirely psychic, for you have quite a few more questions you want to ask her.

It's been about half an hour since Sarah left, no one has been there since. Not another nurse, not a doctor and not Wesker. Although you hadn't expected him to stay around. 

You had thought about pressing the red button, wanting some more answers, but you don't want to be a bother. Considering you weren't in pain you thought it was best just to wait for Sarah to come back in an hour, like she said she would.

Another 10 minutes pass before the doorknob clicks. You open your eyes slowly, expecting Sarah to enter through the door, but are pleasantly surprised to see Wesker enter into your room.

"The patient is awake I see," he mutters softly as he nears the bed, taking the chair from the corner with him. He places it near the bed before taking a seat, waiting for you to say something back.

"I am," you reply with a small smile. 

You take a proper look at him now that he sits, an obvious contrast to the room. First of all, his sunglasses that cover his eyes, and his expression. He had started to wear them about a month or so ago, telling you it helped with dry eyes, along with some eyedrops he was using. You hadn't thought much about it, actually thinking they suited him quite well.

Once you look away from his face you notice he is still in the same clothes he was wearing on the mission. The dark blue t-shirt under a simple tactical vest, along with simple black trousers, still slightly dusty, probably from crawling around in that stuffy vent. On top of that he still has all of his equipment, the gun fastened in his hip holster.

"How long was I out for?" You ask, realising you hadn't actually been told. There is no calendar or clock in the room, so you can't even tell. Additionally, the curtains are covering the window, so no sun or moonlight shines through the glass panes.

"About 7 hours, it's just past 3am," he explains, crossing one leg over the other as he leans back, making himself more comfortable. 

"Really?" You ask, surprised at how long it's been. "You haven't changed, or been home in that time?" 

He seems to think about his answer for a moment, like he is calculating exactly what he should say. "I came here with you, I wasn't going to leave without you, besides, there wasn't really time."

The words hit you harder than you think he meant for them to. You can't help but smile a bit. "I was out for seven hours Wesker, you had time if you wanted to."

He sits back up, not leaning back in the chair anymore. Then he stands and paces the room for a moment, walking over to the window. "Like I said, I wanted to stay," Wesker opens the curtains a bit, peering out the window into the dark. He turns back to you and watches, before returning to his chair. 

"Talk to me," he says, deciding you need to talk about something other than the incident. He looks directly at you, at least you think. You can't really tell through those dark glasses of his.  

You tilt your head, his question slightly unexpected. "Okay, um, your date last week, how was it?" Last week had come to mind, when he had told you about the date. Now you were curious.

His lip straightens, a flat expression. "Not the conversation I had in mind." He sits a bit straighter, like he waits for you to prod more at the topic.

 You don't. You keep the conversation on him, but change the topic.

"Rumour says you were worried about me?" You state with a small smile, hoping he won't shut the conversation down this time.

"Rumour is partly correct. I can't lose my partner can I?" He replies, not letting on more than he should.

"I'm still here. Thank you for what you did," you say after a moment of silence, looking down at your lap, your hands, picking at the loose skin of your finger. 

"Don't mention it," he states as he gets up from his chair, this time walking towards the door. Your gaze follows his movement, his back turned to your bed. 

"Get some rest, I'll need you in the lab, paperwork won't sort itself out," Wesker says as he spares you one last glance, a brief smile on his face.

Next part

You expect the bed to be nice and warm, unfortunately you turn to his side and find it empty and cold.

"Zeno?" You say, calling for him through the door.

No answer.

You get up, pulling his robe around yourself as you walk towards the living room, hoping to find him there.

Once you walk out of the bedroom and into the hallway, you can hear the sound of cooking.

You round the corner and see him standing there over a frying pan, it smells like french toast.

Smiling to yourself you walk over as silently as possible, although you know that realistically he probably heard you getting up from the room.

You take the final step before wrapping your arms around his middle, his bare skin warmer than your hands.

"Hi," you whisper softly as you place a kiss between his shoulder blades, then settle for leaning against his back, still hugging him from behind. It's a gesture you think is very sweet.

"Good morning dearest, I was planning on surprising you with breakfast in bed," His voice has that telltale rasp in the mornings, and you can hear it through his back, every word he speaks.

"It's okay," you say smiling.

One of his hands leaves the pan he is attending to and grasps yours. All in a quick motion he twirls you around so he can see your face.

He smiles at you before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"No proper kiss?" You ask, pouting.

He simply laughs before abiding by your request.

Your strength is lacking to say the least.

The mission had gone sideways as soon as the Connections had revealed their true colours, traitors.

Spotting an open window on the second floor you start scaling the building.

The rain pours harshly at the building and yourself, making everything slippery and so much harder to climb. You reach for the last ledge and the wound on your side stretches, making you grimace. You have to get in.

Gathering all of your remaining strength you pull yourself up and inside, landing with a thump on the floor. Even though you're in a miserable state and should find the first aid kit you know is around here somewhere, you need a moment.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Zeno's voice sounds, obviously surprised at finding you in his house in the middle of the night.

Opening your eyes, you see him lowering the gun he probably had aimed at you just a moment ago. "I didn't have anywhere else to go,"

"I hope you didn't hit your head too hard," he says as he places the gun on a shelf, walking towards you. "You know we have a medical facility you can go to, connections employed doctors…"

"I know, but those bastards can rot in hell," you wince at your wound again, pressing your hand against your side. "The mission went to shit, the Connections set it all up,"

His eyebrows raise, you can tell even behind his glasses. He seems surprised, shocked even. Not an expression he wears often.

"That isn't possible, I chose the people that went on that mission with you,"

"Yeah, well they had other orders…to dispose of me," you reply hoarsely as you try to get up. You place your free hand on the floor next to you, but end up failing miserably, the pain getting worse.

Not wasting another second he kneels by your side, placing a hand on your back and the other under your knees, ready to pick you up.

"I can do it myself, just point me to the kit and give me a moment," you protest, attempting to shove him away.

Zeno lets out a huff of disbelief, his gaze still trained on your face. "I know you can do it yourself, I have no doubts, but let me help you," he says intently, not about to accept no for an answer.

You glance down at your waist, your top stained blood red, then you look back up at him. You've never seen him like this, ever. The look in his eyes is entirely unfamiliar.

Your own eyes soften before you whisper "okay," accepting his offer.

The flashlight you hold shines down the empty corridor, piles of books and equipment littering the floor. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, making you sneeze occasionally.

"Should have taken some masks with us," you comment. Your voice echoes through the hall, bouncing back at you. As if emphasising your point you sneeze again.

Wesker glances back at you, he had insisted on going first. "Perhaps, although I think you should be tested for an allergy," he jokes before looking back ahead, making sure the light from his flashlight illuminates everything up ahead.

A small laugh leaves you at his joke. Him joking used to be a rare occurrence, especially when you just met him. "I got tested a few months back, I'm fine," you reply, making sure you follow close by, not letting him out of your sight.

"Sure," he mutters, not bothering to look back this time, just continuing down the endless hallway.

Finally, it seems to end, a small green light illuminating above the doorway that separates into two sides. Left and right. The right side leads to the morgue and operating room. Those were two rooms you weren't really keen on exploring by yourself, especially in the dark. Not that you were afraid...definitely not. The left side has a sign that says laboratory, nothing special, should be mostly paperwork in there according to the intel you had received.

Your boss had sent you a memo two weeks ago, letting you know that Wesker and yourself were chosen to look for a misplaced file at one of the old Umbrella facilities. What he had failed to mention was just how much of a mess the place had been left in. It would take hours to find the papers, if at all.

"I think we should start on the left in the lab," Wesker says as he glances down at his watch, then glances up at you. Nodding you agree, eager to avoid the morgue.

Once again he leads the way, keeping you within arms reach if something were to happen.

Wesker pulls on the door handle, hoping it will open just as easily as the other doors you had encountered so far. Nothing, it stays in place like it weighs a ton. He attempts to wiggle it, hearing a slight rattling as if something is keeping it in place.

"It's barred from the inside, we'll have to go around," he says as he pulls out a walkie talkie and hands it to you. You grasp the device and look at him, puzzled. 

"You stay here, or go to the morgue while I go around."  

"But, shouldn't I go with you?" You ask, not all that keen on staying by yourself. Realistically it wasn't like something was going to come after you, but it was an Umbrella facility after all, and working at one currently you know just how much odd stuff is kept around.

"You have your gun don't you," he motions to your holster. It sits heavy on your hip, not the usual equipment you carry with you on a day to day. 

"Yes," you answer, picking said gun up and inspecting it, making sure it seems in order. Something you probably should have checked earlier. It had gone forgotten as Wesker had taken the lead, instilling you with a sense of safety.

He pats your shoulder as he walks past you. "You'll be fine, I taught you how to shoot didn't I?" He smirks, proud of how proficient you had become under his training, even though it had been a short amount of time.

You simply huff at his remark as he walks down the hall you came from, looking for a way around and into the lab. He disappears quickly into the shadows, making you realise you need to get going. 

Shining your flashlight to the right you spot the sign for the morgue again. Another small but green light shining above the door, letting you know it's open. Before you can enter through the door your radio crackles to life. 

The first few sounds are just odd static, but then his voice can be heard, clearer the more he talks. "In the morgue yet?" He asks. You can hear him walking, at a quicker pace than he had with you. 

You hold the speak button in as you walk through the door. It opened very easily for you, how lucky. "No, well I just stepped through the door," you huff a laugh. "You just left." 

"Bit slow are we?" He mutters back, then you hear a loud crash.

Stopping in your tracks, you ask in a slight panic, worried something happened to him. "Are you alright?" 

There is a pause for a minute, and that minute of silence kills you, just a bit. "Wesker?"

"I'm fine, just kicked a vent down, I'll have to see if I can make it to the lab via the ventilation system," he explains. "Don't worry," he adds, a small piece of reassurance.

"Okay," you reply as you prop your flashlight up on a small rolling cabinet. 

It goes quiet again. You assume you shouldn't bother him, not when he is crawling through the vents like some bug. The thought makes your laugh before you remember where you are.

The flashlight you propped up towards the ceiling acts as an overhead light, basking the whole room in a decent glow, making it easier to look around. Just like the hallways, there are numerous items scattered on the floor, papers, test tubes, a pen and even a splatter of red which you guess is blood. Lovely.

Grimacing, you walk over to the wall lined with shelves. They are all filled with big fat folders, containing numerous papers. Not exactly what you were looking for at the moment. Despite having a lot to look through, your boss had been helpful in letting you know that the file you were looking for was thin and bright red. So it would stand out if you happened to stumble upon it. 

As you scan the shelves, you pick up your radio again, deciding to check on Wesker. 

"How is the vent cleaner doing?" 

"Not too well," he starts, but stops to sneeze mid sentence, half of it being cut off by the radio. "The vent I started in was a dead end so I have to backtrack," he mumbles, not sounding all that happy.

"I think you should get an allergy test," you reply back, proud of using his own remark against him. 

He doesn't reply, which you take as the joke landing perfectly. 

You're just about to say something else when a sudden sound clings out from the room next door, the operating room. The two rooms are separated with only a glass window and a door leading into said room, for observation purposes you guess. You pull your gun out, back facing the shelves as your eyes dart from side to side. 

As you look around, scanning your surroundings, you take a step closer to the corner, hoping for more coverage in case something comes out at you. Just then, you notice something on the operating table, or rather someone. Your blood runs cold. 

"Wesker," you whisper as quietly as possible. Despite there being glass between you, you don't want to take any chances, not while you are alone. "I think there's someone here, in the operating room." You breathe steadily as you speak, knees bent in a protective stance.

"What do you mean?" he says as he stops moving through the vent.

"On the operating table, it looks like something is on it, someone," you whisper again, your gun stays trained on the table through the glass. You know the bullet won't penetrate through the bulletproof glass, but it keeps you focused.

"Are you certain?" He asks, seemingly sceptical. 

"Yes, I can see it clearly on the table." It's like you can't blink, your eyes drying as you keep them open, not wanting to take your eyes off it.

"Listen to me, the facility has been abandoned for 3 years, anything that was alive then is dead now, I promise you."  

"Promise?" You ask, wanting to trust his words. You find yourself taking a step away from the wall, closer to the glass.

He sounds perfectly calm when he speaks, like there isn't a single doubt in what he is telling you. "I don't lie to you."

"Okay, I'm going to check, I can't keep looking for the file knowing that thing is there, even if it is dead."

"I'll stay on the line," he assures you as you walk towards the door that leads to the operating room. 

The door opens with a slight creek, you already regret your actions, not knowing what has possessed you. You should have brought your flashlight into the room, it doesn't light up as much here as it did by the shelves. However, you aren't about to turn your back on the operating table now, not when you are this close.

In the dim lighting you can see the faint outline of whatever lies on the table, a thin cloth draped over it, which is then covered in more dust. The hand that holds your gun shakes before you steady yourself, taking a step closer and pinching the edge of the fabric, ready to lift it up.

Dust goes flying and you step back to avoid the cloud that circles around yourself and the table. Once it settles you look back, properly this time. You wish you hadn't. The person that lies there hardly looks human anymore. Probably having gone through multiple surgeries, tests and experiments. It's grotesque to look at. 

Deciding you've seen enough you place the covering back over them and step away, making your way back into the morgue. Thankfully, that room was lacking bodies, ironic really. 

"That poor person," you mutter into the radio. Already having put your gun away as you continue the search for the red folder. 

"Not a pretty sight," Wesker replies, having a guess as to what you have seen. You can hear a whirring sound from his side of the radio.

"No, not at all," you say grimacing as you crouch down, opening a bottom drawer to search through it. "Any luck on your end?" You ask, wondering if he's made it out of the vents.

"No, another dead end, I'll just come back and help you look, if we don't find anything Umbrella will have to send some reinforcements for that door, no way we can do anything about that," Wesker explains, sounding slightly frustrated with the whole situation. 

"Hey, maybe I can help," you answer once you remember the computer that stands in the corner. You hadn't thought of it when you saw it the first time, focused on the file you were after. "There is a computer here, since there is power it may have a map located here somewhere, or a way of opening another door?" You ask, unsure if you will be helpful.

Wesker seems to think for a moment before answering, the radio crackling slightly. "Perhaps, give it a try."

Standing up, you place the radio beside the computer, clicking the speaker button so you can use it hands free. You make sure the power cord is plugged in before you hold in the on button, hoping it will turn on. The screen stays black for a while before the Umbrella logo shows up. You smile, happy it's working. 

Getting into the system is easy despite it being three years old. The password is the same standard one you use at the current facility you work at. Maybe you should bring that up to someone higher up? 

You click on the security system folder, clicking through it, attempting to find something useful. "I think I found it, where exactly are you?"

"If the map I am using is correct, I believe I should be in lab 2107 on the second floor."

"Okay, just a moment..." You say clicking through the floors to find out where he is.

Once you do, you look for a possible route for him, finding one quite quickly. "Found it," you say triumphantly. "If you go back down the hall and take a right, I'll open the locked door and you can take the staircase round the back, it'll take you right down to where we need to be."

"Alright, I'll be standing by the door then," he confirms, seemingly already on his way there.

You click to unlock the door and it seems to do so seamlessly, a green light indicating it's unlocked on your screen. 

"It's unlocked now," you tell him happily as you look at the screen, staying where you are if you need to open any more doors. 

"I'll meet you in a few minutes then," Wesker replies. The line goes quiet.

Deciding you've seen enough of this room, you click on sleep mode on the computer before picking up your radio, ready to make your way out of the room. 

The door handle pulls down as you press it, but the door doesn't open. So you try again. Nothing. You walk back to the computer in a hurried manner. Had you locked the door unknowingly? Clicking the keyboard doesn't seem to work as the computer doesn't respond. "Come on," you say frustratedly as you give the side of the screen a light tap. It flickers and powers down. 

"No, no, no, come on you idiotic thing!" You repeat again, giving the computer a proper hit this time. 

You continue to click away, checking the power cable, twice. The lights were still on so the power hadn't gone out. You try one more time, but the result is the same.

"Hey Wesker," you click the radio on again. You feel like such a burden, constantly having to call him for help, but what else were you supposed to do now? Before he answers you look to the ceiling, maybe you could try the vents?

"What?" He answers.

You cough once before explaining your situation. The dust wasn't too bad in here, but you feel slightly breathless. How odd. You cough for the second time now, your throat feeling dry, then again. 

"Something is wrong," you croak out, your throat feeling even worse, like it's swelling, making it seem like you are breathing through a straw. "I, can't, *cough* *cough* breathe." 

Attempting to say something, anything, you fail and decide to try and sit on the floor, maybe it would help? If you did end up losing consciousness you didn't want to get a concussion on top of whatever was wrong with you.

"I'm on my way, keep talking," he says across the line. Not yelling, not panicked, or maybe he is, you really can't tell over the radio. You want to respond, but you can't. Right now your focus is on trying to take a breath, you don't really want to die right now. 

"Are you there?" 

You can hear his footsteps on the radio, it sounds like he is running. 

"Hello?!"

Next part

I spent last night writing the outline for the whole series, and all of today writing this part. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

"Open the door." A voice demands from the other side of the door as a knock accompanies it.

At first you don't react, being on the brink of sleep you weren't sure if you were imagining it, or if it had been someone on the other side.

You blink twice while you turn from one side of the bed to the other, now on the edge, listening intently. Did you imagine it?

You didn't.

"Open the door now."

You groan to yourself as you slip out from beneath the warm covers, the chill making you freeze instantly. The thermostat had broken the day before. The staff had "kindly" informed you that there was nothing they could do. To solve your problem you had taken a really warm shower and jumped straight into bed. Unfortunately, you hadn't taken any warmer clothes, not expecting your room to be an actual replica of the north pole.

He sounds impatient, judging by the irritation lacing his tone.

"What do you want Zeno?" You ask irritated and half asleep as you open the door, blocking the doorway as you stand there freezing. The hallway is bright and blinding, an obvious contrast to the dark you were just engulfed in. Your eyes squint to adjust to the lighting.

He simply places a hand on your arm, moving you aside as he steps into the room. "They double booked my room, so I have to stay with you," he says moving to the sofa, placing an overnight bag there like he owns the room all of a sudden.

"Sure, be my guest," you mutter sarcastically to yourself, wondering what he is getting at.

You close the door, the lock clicking in place as you swipe the card over the lock reader. Then you turn back towards the room. Your feet feel frozen so you take a step forward, hoping to get your circulation going.

"Thank you for running it by me," you scold him defensively before continuing your speech of disapproval. "What do you mean double booked? Just buy the whole place or kick someone out of their room, we both know you can afford it. Actually everyone knows you can afford it." you correct yourself as you walk to the bed, deciding there won't be an end to this.

Zeno glances up from digging through his bag, glaring at you as if you just made the most outrageous statement in the world. "I would if I could, but the Connections made it clear that kicking someone out was not an option as they are attempting to secure a deal, and buying the place wouldn't help because I would still have to kick someone out considering it's fully booked." He goes back to looking through the bag after his explanation, finally finding whatever he is looking for.

"So?" You ask, waiting for this to be some joke of his.

"So I am borrowing your bathroom and bed for the night, hopefully someone has a bad day tomorrow and decides to…leave," he replies as he makes his way to the en-suite, shutting the door behind him.

It takes you a moment to realise just what he meant by a fellow guest leaving. You don't linger on that thought for long before you get back in bed. Your feet are now icicles and you attempt to rub your feet on the sheet to gain some heat from the friction. It doesn't do much so you turn over, your back facing the middle of the double bed.

From the bathroom you can hear the shower running for a few minutes before it turns off. You glance over your shoulder, seeing the light still on before turning your head back and burrowing into the plush pillow. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the light click off and the door open, Zeno walking back into the room, now in the dark.

You assume he places something into his bag before you hear the rustling of the bedding. The edge of the blanket lifts up and a gust of freezing cold air seeps towards you, causing you to shiver. On his side the mattress dips as he lies down, you can tell he is flat on his back. Psychopath, you think to yourself. No normal person sleeps like that.

The cold doesn't get any better and you keep tossing before you curl up into a ball, hoping to conserve some heat.

"Keep it down," he mutters in a flat tone.

"Don't!" You warn as you snatch more of the blanket from his side. Both in defiance and hope that it will bring you more warmth. "Don't you demand things from me when you just barged into my room at 1 in the morning demanding to stay in my room!"

You expect him to snap back at your outburst, a snarky comment at least, but it never comes. Not yet at least.

With more of the blanket secured you hope for warmth along with it, but you just seem to be so lucky. Your teeth are chattering at this point. This isn't humane. In the morning you would have a nice chat with the manager, about the temperature, and the double booking.

"How are you so cold?" Zeno mutters quietly, apparently not having learned anything from bugging you the first time.

"I don't know." You huff, but decide to give him yet another lecture with your frustration. "Maybe I am a woman so my body temperature is naturally colder than yours, maybe the room could be dubbed Antarctica 2, or maybe I have an annoying person in my bed that I also have to share the blanket with!" Truly this night could not get any worse.

You hear him get up and pad over to the thermostat. He clicks away for a moment and you feel like laughing. How stupid did he think you were? As if you hadn't tried that multiple times already.

"I'm not stupid, I know how to use it, it's broken."

Zeno doesn't reply to your remark and continues to fiddle about with it before giving up a few minutes later. He huffs, returning to the bed, once again laying on his back.

"They told me it shouldn't be so bad, bit of a lie that was," you add as another shiver runs down your spine. Your tone is less annoyed now, realising there is no point in being mad at Zeno about the thermostat.

"Come here," he mutters after what seems to be his moment of contemplation.

"What?" you ask, brows furrowed as you stare at the drawn curtains that cover the windows.

"Come here," Zeno repeats, as if it makes anything clearer.

You turn your head, slightly towards the middle trying to spare a glance at him in the dark. "Come where?" you repeat your question again.

"Just get over here," he huffs as he lifts the middle part of the blanket, making space for you.

You do as he says, shimmying backwards on your side until your back lines up with the middle of the bed, still facing him. Once you do you feel his right arm draping around your right side, pulling you in closer to him. Your back now flush with his chest.

You're about to scold him, both from being surprised, and just the general situation. That fizzles away once you realise how warm he is. You simply let out a content puff of air, as his warmth seems to seep into your cold skin.

"You're warm," you mutter, sleep already in your sight.

"And you are very cold," he replies, running a hand over your arm that is littered with goosebumps.

You can feel him speak, the vibrations running through your spine. Honestly, you could say that you were melting into his warmth. He continues to rub the goosebumps away as your breathing gets deeper, your mind drifting away as you focus on his touch.

Soon enough, both you and him are sleeping peacefully. Hopefully it stays that way.

Today was not your day. The first thing you wake up to is a call from your mother letting you know one of your cousins passed away last night. It was a cousin you had only met a handfull of times before, but still sad nonetheless, especially considering it was a sudden death. You contemplate taking a day off before you decide to go to work anyway, hoping a change of scenery will make you think less of the tragedy.

Once you get to the lab you greet Jane at the reception. In turn she asks how you are doing. After explaining what had happened she grasps your hand, a comforting pressure keeping you grounded.

"Let me know if there is anything I can do," she adds sympathetically with a kind smile.

You smile back, as much as you can muster and nod, not trusting your voice for the first time today. You feel sad, and numb, and odd and at the same time like nothing really changed, possibly even guilty? Jane gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, letting you make your way further into the building.

The hallways are busy like usual, lab workers, technicians, scientist, assistants and even a student or two passing by in a hurry. It's odd how you all continue on when it feels like things should be put on pause. It's like you've zoned out on your way to your shared office with Wesker. You place your heavy bag beside your desk, it lands on the laminate floor with a small thump. Next you turn to the hook on the wall, picking up your lab coat with your right hand, as you shimmy out of your woollen coat.

Once you shrug into the white cotton lab coat you make your way to the actual lab portion of the building, having to go down a floor.

It's much colder down here, and so eerily silent. It makes sense, the workers aren't here for fun or conversations. What you do at Umbrella is important work, it requires precision, focus and with that comes silence.

Deciding it's finally time to start, you make your way to the freezer in the corner, picking out the samples you had yet to test. Once you do you glance to your right side, seeing a free spot in the far corner. Perfect, you think to yourself. You place the samples down and go to find some pipettes and other materials you will need to actually do your work.

You are on your second to last sample, looking through the microscope as you poke at the dish with a Q-tip soaked in a virus you are trialling. Throughout the testing you couldn't help but sniffle at odd moments, it's like your nose couldn't stop. As you think about it your eyes feel odd and sensitive.

"Are your okay?" You hear from your left side.

Turning abruptly, you spot Mark, a chemist that seemed to live in the lab. He looks concerned, the look that people give to someone who is absolutely not doing well.

His questions instantly sets off the feeling of a lump in your throat. The one you can feel when you are about to burst into tears.

You breathe through you nose, blinking for a moment as you look back into the microscope, as if you were finishing up something majorly important that couldn't wait. Once the feeling passes, well part of it, you look back up and answer him. A short answer at that.

"Fine, just not feeling the best," You lie as you turn your microscope off and put the lids on the samples, tossing them in the bin below the tabletop.

From the corner of your eye you can see him nod and leave, probably not eager to converse with you when you're "sick".

Once he does you sigh, feeling just a bit lighter as you pull your gloves off and toss them in the bin as well. Then you glance at your watch, lunchtime. Another reason Mark had left in such a hurry probably. As much as he lived in the lab, he loved the cafeteria almost as much.

The others in the lab seem to have the same idea, you can see them start to clean their stations up and make their way out of the lab, happy to have a bit of a break. You follow them out, the chatter filling the hallway and the stairs. Once you get to the top, you take a left towards your office. As much as you wanted lunch, you don't think you can manage small talk, or any talk for that matter. The "incident" with Mark was bad enough for you, almost on the brink of crying.

You run your hands through your hair and over your face before opening the office door. It probably makes you look more dishevelled, worse than you already feel, but it doesn't really matter, you're alone now.

"Did you finish testing the samples?" His voice rings out through the office. You startle for a moment, not having noticed him sitting by his desk. Glancing over at him you can see he hasn't looked up from his own work, simply noticed that you had entered the room.

You turn away from him, a traitorous sniffle escaping your nose and you attempt to cover it with a cough. Why couldn't you be left alone?

"Yes," It's a simple answer, you can't muster up the courage to attempt anything longer than that, especially not to keep the conversation going like you usually would.

Wesker notices, either the sniffle, the cough, your small voice or even you odd behaviour because he looks up from his work with an uncharacteristically worried look.

"Are you sick?"

"No," you answer first, then you think. What if you were sick as well as being sad? "Maybe?" You say, adding to your own confusion.

"Yes or no?" He asks, deadpan, not accepting your rubbish answer.

"No," You say truthfully this time. After working with Wesker for a while you have come to realise there isn't much point in lying to him, he sees through it anyway, like some lie detector. It's a magic ability, truly.

"So?" he asks, waiting for you to elaborate on your short answer.

There is no point, no point in hiding your sorrows now. You huff as you fall into your chair, face in your hands as you feel the lump from earlier coming back.

"It's stupid," you start. Your voice sounds so small and frail as you speak. You really do feel stupid at the moment. Waiting for a moment to see if he will say anything, you continue once your realise he won't.

You move your hands a bit so you can see, but you choose to not look at him. Fear of humiliation you suppose. "I just found out one of my cousins passed away,"

It's silent for another moment and you think he may laugh. Was he that cruel? Surely not?

"I'm sorry," He replies, forgetting his work as he just watches you for a while. Your sad and blotchy face on full display now.

"It's okay," You begin, thinking about what you actually want to say. "We only met about 5 times, so it's not like we are… were that close, but you know… they were family, and I knew them so… " You can't stand to look at him anymore, so you settle for a particularly interesting scratch in the surface of your desk, running your fingers along the grain of the wood.

You can hear him move, did he get up? No, you didn't hear his footsteps, just the chairs wheels moving along the floor. "I understand," Wesker replies. Does he though? "Not the situation, but I can imagine your loss," he adds as if he had heard your thoughts. You look up, slowly. The first thing you spot is his hand on the desk in front of you, palm facing up towards ceiling. A promise of comfort perhaps.

You hesitate for a moment, not entirely sure if you have misunderstood his gesture, but then you just go for it, needing the touch more than you care about misunderstandings.

His hand is big and warm, a pleasant contrast to your own, which frankly is quite cold. to him it probably feels like he is holding a corpses hand, or an icicle perhaps, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he wraps his fingeres around your hand and places his other on top. Not tightly, just a steady comforting presence.

You bite your lip which now trembles slightly, afraid of letting out even a small sob. "Thank you," You say tot he best of your abilities, you eyes glossing over just to add to the fact that you are sad.

Instead of saying anything Wesker simply stays, hand still wrapped around yours. The occasional brush of his thumb over the back of your hand really hits your heartstrings. You feel a tear escaping your eye, which one it is, you aren't sure, perhaps both? In an attempt to keep the oncoming tears down you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

After a minute you pull away. Sucking in a breath you remove your hand from his, explaining what you need right now, "I think I need to go home." Wesker just nods and pulls his hands back, accepting it with no fuss.

You stay seated for a moment before getting up, taking a step to the wall and retrieving your coat, placing your lab coat on your chair. "I'm sorry," you say, feeling like you have to explain yourself more. You continue to ramble as you fasten your scarf and pick your bag up. "I'll get my work done, I just need a day, send me a mail if something needs immediate attention,"

Wesker just looks at you, having gotten up himself, mirroring yourself. "Don't worry, just rest,"

You smile softly as thanks before leaving the office, feeling just a bit better about the whole situation.