A little short I wrote while the poles were finishing up. This is from an offshoot of my Chris adopts Jake AU, except Wesker is alive and in BSSA custody. This isnât the pole chosen Chrisker, thatâs coming later.
TW for mention of possible miscarriage, but itâs vague and just Chrisâ worry.
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âNo. Itâs not happening.â Chris snarled, bolting up from his chair and slamming his fits onto the plastic table. Everything in Weskerâs cell was plastic, bolted down, or both.
Chris had been enjoying the conversation to some degree. Apparently the volcano had managed to fry Weskerâs brain back to the point of some sanity. Well, Chris thought it had until Wesker asked for that. When Chris had started visiting Wesker he had decided that, no matter how much old affection tried to bubble up, he would never give Wesker that.
âWho even told you about him?â Chris continued, his nose twitching and his fists clenching. Whoever it had been was looking at a quick termination of their contract at least, but possibly the barrel of his pistol. It depended on how much Wesker knew. Sure, Wesker was thinner now, frailer, but Chris was well aware he was still a threat. Wesker would always be a threat, he was a living breathing weapon and no matter how dented or dull a weapon was always a weapon.
âI donât think that matters,â Wesker began, still calm in the midst Chrisâ rage. Chris would replace the entire guard rotation. Heâd fire each of them for this. âIâm a bit shocked, Christopher. You always cared so much about family, I didnât think youâd keep my son and grandchild-â
Chris cut him off, unable to hold his tongue.
âMy son and My grandchild.â
Chris began to pace, gripping his upper armâs in a desperate attempt to not choke out the older man. Chris wouldnât give Wesker that. Lord knows he wanted the fight, but Chris wouldnât give it to him.
âAh, you took in my bastard, did you? Was it before Africa, that would make sense. I thought you were just upset about Miss Valentine, but you were protecting him, werenât you?â Wesker continued, tilting his head to the side. He tried to act cocky, but Wesker was not the same statue of a man that haunted Chrisâ nightmares without his sunglasses. Chris understood why Wesker wore them, the eyes really were the window to the soul. Currently Weskerâs soul looked very conflicted, a little curious, and angry. Good, let him get angry.
âWho told you, Wesker. Answer me, or so help me-â
this time it was Wesker who cut off Chris.
âYou did. Did you think I wouldnât recognize my own genetic code, Chris? Even mashed up with anotherâs, mine is rather unique. There was enough similarities between that first chart and the third that I assumed the third was my offspringâs child with the second chart.â
That made Chris pause. Of course. He knew it had been a risk, but he had taken it. He wanted to know if Jake and Sherry could have kids safely, genetics wise. The risk of their mutations clashing and causing a miscarriage or something worse had loomed too close. He had taken their charts to Wesker out of desperation.
When his granddaughter had been born, Chris had asked Rebecca to do a couple non invasive tests. Sherry had known about Rebeccaâs tests, it had been just a bit of blood and spit from the baby. Nothing more than that and it had all been off record. Despite how exhausting being in charge of so much was, it did give Chris the ability to protect his family from any testing from the BSSA. Sherry had been relieved to hear that, poor girl was still traumatized from what they did. Chris tried not to think about that though, just made him angrier.
Still, he had taken baby Irinaâs file to Wesker to look over once more, had lied and said it was from a dead infant found in a lab. He shouldâve known Wesker would catch on.
âAm I not allowed to be curious?â Wesker pushed, trying to take advantage of catching Chris off guard. Being thrown into a volcano hadnât changed his ability to sense when someone had a moment of weakness, when it was best to strike. Too bad Chris knew that trick.
âNo. No youâre not. Iâve given you a lot of privileges, but meeting any more of my family will never be one.â Chris growled out. He sighed, realizing Wesker wanted his anger, to use it. He hated how well Wesker could predict him sometimes. Then again, Wesker tended to forget that it went both ways. Sure, Weaker knew Chris, but Chris knew Wesker the same and he knew the blonde hated being ignored.
So he schooled his expression and turned away from the blonde.
âCome now, Christopher, what harm could it do?â Wesker tried, his voice was even but Chris could hear a hint of anger.
âI will kill you before I ever let you get near him.â The brunette replied coolly, slowly walking towards the thick metal door. He could hear Weskerâs chains rattle as the older man stood. Good, Chris was getting under his skin.
Just as Chris rapped at the door he heard Wesker speak once more. The ex scientist was likely realizing that he was running out cardâs and Chris had no interest in giving him more. He was done playing.
âWhatâs his name?â The B.O.W hissed as the door opened,
âGo to hell.â Was the last thing Chris spat out, slamming the cell door shut behind him as he left. He didnt bother to look back at the blonde, heâd done enough of that in his life already.











