Nightmare Revisted 6 part one
Title: Nightmare Revisted
Fandom: Resident Evil
Genre: Horror, Romance, Action
Pairings: Wesker/Claire (main), Chris/Jill
Rating: M (overall), PG13 this chapter for a bit of action violence
Warnings: Sexual situations, blood, guts and gore, and a little bit of high school level biology.
Summary: Claire never thought that the poison from Antarctica would come back to haunt her. She never realized what it and its antidote were slowly doing to her body. Now she finds herself in the hands of a man she considers the devil himself wondering if she can ever be normal again.
Time, Claire decided, was a funny thing. The past two weeks had gone by in a blur. Oddly enough, a routine had been established, and that was the only reason she even knew that time was passing. Mornings were spent in the gym running through katas and sparring with Wesker. He had shown up the third day she had come to the gym; scaring the shit out of her when he walked up behind her and corrected her stance for a throw. She had told him off for correcting her and he hadn’t done anything but watch until the next day when she had destroyed the punching bag with a well-placed kick. Covered head to toe in the mix of sand and other materials, she had been pissed. Wesker had then calmly asked her if he volunteered to go a few rounds with her if she would lay off the gym equipment. She had taken him up on the offer and won only one of the three rounds. She wasn’t a match for him in strength, she was just too petite for her to ever compare to him on that level, but she was faster. Plus, she had more agility thanks to years of yoga. It was just a matter of making use of it. She was getting better at controlling it.
So, she was surprised when she entered the gym in a pair of grey, stretchy capris, black sneakers, and one of those tops that doubled as both a sports bra and top, and found him missing. He was almost always in the gym earlier than her. She had even caught him once or twice running through tai-chi stretches on the blue practice mat. It was odd to think of such a violent person doing something that was meant to be almost strictly defensive. But she was digressing; eyes that had returned to some semblance of normal scanned the room with a frown. Maybe he was just late, she decided as she took her shoes off on the side of the mat. She didn’t want to think about the only other reason she could come up with for him being late. It would mean that something had gone wrong in the lab here.
Wesker, however, was dealing with a problem, though not of the nature Claire had envisioned. There was no outbreak, not there nor in any of the labs that he monitored. His projects were coming along on schedule or better. Mallory had hit a dead wall after her little bit of showboating with Horizons. The Organization had raised its defenses around all the little companies that made it up in a way that was reminisce of mafia families. No information went anywhere without express approval. Normally, this would’ve mattered to him. Normally, he would be holed up in a lab so far under the radar, conditions were that way normally. But this time, he wasn’t and the Board was pissed. They had caught wind, naturally, of his involvement with Mallory’s need to expose them. The only good thing to come out of their knowledge of just what he had gotten his hands on was the disappearance of the second bounty on Claire. They had her already in their hands. They were just pissed he hadn’t said anything. To make matters worse, they were threatening to demand he hand her over to someone who could spend more time with her.
He sneered and leaned back in his chair as he watched the stock market fluctuate. It was petty on their parts, but a good point. He had been neglecting his other projects to deal with her. He kept up with updates, true. He even sat in video meetings with those he had left in charge. But it was not the level of hands-on that he normally displayed. Wesker was a control freak by nature, and he could not understand why he was willing to loosen the reins seemingly for her. It irritated him almost as deeply as the summons sitting in his email inbox. The Board, which consisted of the heads of the different companies that made up the Organization, had demanded that he bring her with him to some kind of business meeting/dinner in Phoenix to see if his claims were real. It was enough to make him want to kill them all and just take charge himself. He heard leather creak and had to remind himself that he was not capable of being in two places at once. If he killed them, he would have to devote too much of his precious time to running companies and not his research. That was the point of recruiting these people in the first place. So, he was going to have to go and think up some reason for Claire to come with him. He doubted she would be willing to go meet the Board and let them poke and prod her like an experiment over dinner, which meant he needed an excuse.
Claire got out of the shower and into a pair of jeans and red t-shirt. A frown marred her face as she caught the smell of Wesker cooking in the kitchen. It was his day to cook breakfast by her count, but that wasn’t what annoyed her. What annoyed her was the fact that he had skipped out on their morning spar. She had been left to run through her list of katas and demolish two of the punching bags in her need to vent the aggression. Now he was cooking them breakfast like he hadn’t just missed the only little bit of human-and that was stretching the definition of human a bit-contact that she got in this place. She was practically seething in anger as she made her way to the kitchen. It wasn’t even like she wanted his attention so much as she wanted someone’s attention. While she had never counted herself as a social butterfly, she had always been surrounded by people-Chris, friends, people at work… The lack of contact was driving her nuts, and he had the nerve to take what little bit she was giving away and then act like everything was hunky-dory? Fuck, no.
The kitchen looked like it always did in the mornings he cooked-supplies neatly cleaned up from where he had done prep-work, two places on the island with silverware, a wineglass filled with the fruity wine he favored placed near the edge for her. His smell mixed with the scent of the same pasta dish he cooked whenever he bothered to eat and she could almost feel the need to hurt something. He gave no indication that he even knew she was there as she picked the wineglass up and downed its contents in one long swallow. Rather than set it down, though, she tossed it at the back of his head. Wesker’s movement was too quick for her to follow as he tilted his head to the side in order to dodge it and it shattered against the hood over the oven. She noted the deliberate way he turned everything off on the stove before turning to look at her. She felt her nails biting into her palms as she noted the thick line of blood just over his right eyebrow from where the glass had flown into it from impact. He took the sunglasses off slowly, clearly trying to rein in his temper with the movement.
“Can I ask what that was for, dear heart?” Wesker said slowly and she bit back the growl in her throat. She was pissed, and he was so bloody calm. She felt her temper spike at his attitude.
“Because you are a motherfucking bastard,” Claire snarled almost shaking in rage. Why the hell was she so angry? She didn’t question the mood swing; just went with it. She watched him raise an eyebrow and felt her temper go with it. “You just come up here and act like nothing’s wrong! You bastard, you fucking stood me up!” She had moved so that she was in front of him now and jabbing a finger into his chest. Wesker looked at her in surprise and grabbed the wrist of her offending finger.
“I wasn’t aware we had a date,” he said simply and watched as her eyes grew round for a second before narrowing in a glare. She began trying to pull her wrist away from him.
“We didn’t, you jerk,” Claire hissed. That wasn’t what she had meant at all! “You didn’t show up this morning for sparring. I ended up reducing two bags to sand!” She finally got her hand free from his grip. She stood on her tip-toe to try to look him in the eyes. Their red and orange light didn’t bother her at the moment. “Like I would want to go on a date with you! Even if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve killed thousands and are my brother’s worst enemy, you’re hardly my type. I like my men to actually have hearts,” she was breathing heavily by the time she finished. She could almost see a tick in his jaw as he forced himself to hold his temper.
“I assure you the feeling is quite mutual, Miss Redfield,” Wesker said moving away from her. “I’m hardly attracted to little girls with bleeding hearts.” The sneer in his voice was unmistakable. She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it and leaned in. For one split second, she thought he was going to kiss her to prove his point. But the second passed and he used her arm to shove her painfully into the counter with the sink. She let out a grunt of pain, but from all the time she had spent across from him on the mat she knew that this was not even a tenth of his strength. “I suggest you clean this mess up now that breakfast is inedible thanks to the glass,” he told her as he released her arm. He walked away before pausing at the doorway and speaking again. “You now owe me a meal, dear heart.”
Claire huffed as she began disassembling the handgun on the counter in the gun locker off of the firing range with the intent of cleaning it. She could not believe the nerve of him! She had been forced to take apart the top of the stove in order to make sure that none of the glass was stuck under the burners. It had taken forever. And to top it all off she couldn’t come up with a good reason for her to lose her temper like that. She was normally really good at keeping her temper in check over the little things. She sighed as she forced the little pipe cleaning down the barrel of the gun. He had been really nice as of late, too. She had woken up one morning last week to find the firing range fully stocked without a word from him. He tolerated her presence in his lab when she was well and truly bored. Hell, he had even let her look at her own cells under the microscope. If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were her cells, she would’ve found that beyond cool. Sure, they had had little fights over the last week, but that she knew was normal when living with someone even if you hardly saw them.
Deft hands began putting the gun together as she finished her task, pausing to make sure the slide moved cleanly and didn’t need any more oil. She didn’t know why his parting words bothered her so much either. She was more than willing to cook him something, and it was about time he ate something besides that damn pasta. It was good, true, but man could not survive on pasta alone. Though, a tiny voice reminded her, he wasn’t exactly a man. That was another thing that was bothering her. She had to remind herself of that a lot more now than she did when they first interacted. She figured it was likely from the fact that she didn’t want to think of herself as anything but human and it was hard to think of him as a monster when they were so much alike as far as genetics went. She put the gun back into its case in the locker and sighed. Really this was all so damn confusing. There was a static hum and Claire turned from where she had been staring into the locker like it held the secrets of life to see the Red Queen.
“Mr. Wesker told me to inform you he expects you to be ready to leave for dinner at five,” the little girl said her fake hands clasped in front of her. Claire looked at the computer in puzzlement. They were going out to dinner? “He says that he has laid out appropriate attire in your room.”
“Where are we going?” she asked in confusion clamping down on the part of her that wanted to rage at the idea of him picking out her clothes.
“I am not sure of the exact destination, Claire,” the computer said tilting her child’s head to the side. “It is four-fourteen now. I strongly suggest you head up stairs to get ready.” The brunette let out another puff of air as she headed towards the door. Just great.
Wesker leaned against the doorframe as he waited for Claire to show up. He wore a black suit the custom tailoring making it hang on him in a way he knew made him look good. He hadn’t bothered with a tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. The only splashes of color in the entire ensemble were the two rubies that flashed on his cufflinks. He knew they would be the same shade of red as the dress he had picked out for Claire. A lot of posturing was done in the business world based on looks alone, and while she would have no clue about what she was walking into, he wanted to give her some advantage. He needed the other company heads to side with him about keeping her. He was not at the point where he could just tell them all to fuck off yet.
He raised an eyebrow as Claire appeared in the hallway. Her hair was pulled up in some kind of braided bun that left her delicate neck exposed. There was no jewelry as she hadn’t ordered any and he hadn’t had a chance to get his hands on any. But she didn’t need it. The cocktail dress was ruby red with the fabric artfully wrinkled. It cut her mid-thigh with a neck line that rested just short of being indecent. Silver beading looped underneath her breasts before moving up like a chain to become the straps that held it up. A pair of strappy red stiletto heels gave her the illusion of legs that went on forever. The only thing that ruined the image she presented was the nervous way she was acting under his scrutiny.
“Is something wrong, dear heart,” he asked as he opened the door. She rubbed her arm absently as she walked out onto the porch.
“I feel ridiculous,” she told him, and she did. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn heels this thin and tall. She felt like she was going to tip over any second or at the slightest push. This did not appeal to her sense of survival and self-preservation. Even when she had been forced into going to fundraisers for TerraSave, she always wore something that she could fight in if she had to. Her life had been crazy enough that she felt a little bit of paranoia was justified. The way she was dressed up made her feel like some kind of glorified doll, and she hated it. It reminded her of when she had been younger and had tried so hard to fit in with the other girls in high school. They had always been prettier and smarter than her. It had taken years before she realized that she didn’t have to try to be like them. The memories that dressing up like this invoked were not good, but she wanted to make up for her behavior earlier.
“You look lovely,” Wesker assured her as he closed the door behind them and locked it. Claire couldn’t help the little smile that his words caused as she took the time to look him over. She wondered if it was the virus, but he hardly looked like he had aged any since he had been captain of STARS.
“You don’t look half-bad yourself,” she told him as she followed him towards the hummer. She wobbled as she tried to walk on the uneven gravel and let out a squeak of surprise as he threaded her arm through his. She was thankful for the aid as she made it the few feet to the vehicle. These things were dangerous.
Ch 6 part two
Fandom: Resident Evil
Genre: Horror, Romance, Action
Pairings: Wesker/Claire (main), Chris/Jill
Rating: M (overall), PG13 this chapter for a bit of action violence
Warnings: Sexual situations, blood, guts and gore, and a little bit of high school level biology.
Summary: Claire never thought that the poison from Antarctica would come back to haunt her. She never realized what it and its antidote were slowly doing to her body. Now she finds herself in the hands of a man she considers the devil himself wondering if she can ever be normal again.
Time, Claire decided, was a funny thing. The past two weeks had gone by in a blur. Oddly enough, a routine had been established, and that was the only reason she even knew that time was passing. Mornings were spent in the gym running through katas and sparring with Wesker. He had shown up the third day she had come to the gym; scaring the shit out of her when he walked up behind her and corrected her stance for a throw. She had told him off for correcting her and he hadn’t done anything but watch until the next day when she had destroyed the punching bag with a well-placed kick. Covered head to toe in the mix of sand and other materials, she had been pissed. Wesker had then calmly asked her if he volunteered to go a few rounds with her if she would lay off the gym equipment. She had taken him up on the offer and won only one of the three rounds. She wasn’t a match for him in strength, she was just too petite for her to ever compare to him on that level, but she was faster. Plus, she had more agility thanks to years of yoga. It was just a matter of making use of it. She was getting better at controlling it.
So, she was surprised when she entered the gym in a pair of grey, stretchy capris, black sneakers, and one of those tops that doubled as both a sports bra and top, and found him missing. He was almost always in the gym earlier than her. She had even caught him once or twice running through tai-chi stretches on the blue practice mat. It was odd to think of such a violent person doing something that was meant to be almost strictly defensive. But she was digressing; eyes that had returned to some semblance of normal scanned the room with a frown. Maybe he was just late, she decided as she took her shoes off on the side of the mat. She didn’t want to think about the only other reason she could come up with for him being late. It would mean that something had gone wrong in the lab here.
Wesker, however, was dealing with a problem, though not of the nature Claire had envisioned. There was no outbreak, not there nor in any of the labs that he monitored. His projects were coming along on schedule or better. Mallory had hit a dead wall after her little bit of showboating with Horizons. The Organization had raised its defenses around all the little companies that made it up in a way that was reminisce of mafia families. No information went anywhere without express approval. Normally, this would’ve mattered to him. Normally, he would be holed up in a lab so far under the radar, conditions were that way normally. But this time, he wasn’t and the Board was pissed. They had caught wind, naturally, of his involvement with Mallory’s need to expose them. The only good thing to come out of their knowledge of just what he had gotten his hands on was the disappearance of the second bounty on Claire. They had her already in their hands. They were just pissed he hadn’t said anything. To make matters worse, they were threatening to demand he hand her over to someone who could spend more time with her.
He sneered and leaned back in his chair as he watched the stock market fluctuate. It was petty on their parts, but a good point. He had been neglecting his other projects to deal with her. He kept up with updates, true. He even sat in video meetings with those he had left in charge. But it was not the level of hands-on that he normally displayed. Wesker was a control freak by nature, and he could not understand why he was willing to loosen the reins seemingly for her. It irritated him almost as deeply as the summons sitting in his email inbox. The Board, which consisted of the heads of the different companies that made up the Organization, had demanded that he bring her with him to some kind of business meeting/dinner in Phoenix to see if his claims were real. It was enough to make him want to kill them all and just take charge himself. He heard leather creak and had to remind himself that he was not capable of being in two places at once. If he killed them, he would have to devote too much of his precious time to running companies and not his research. That was the point of recruiting these people in the first place. So, he was going to have to go and think up some reason for Claire to come with him. He doubted she would be willing to go meet the Board and let them poke and prod her like an experiment over dinner, which meant he needed an excuse.
Claire got out of the shower and into a pair of jeans and red t-shirt. A frown marred her face as she caught the smell of Wesker cooking in the kitchen. It was his day to cook breakfast by her count, but that wasn’t what annoyed her. What annoyed her was the fact that he had skipped out on their morning spar. She had been left to run through her list of katas and demolish two of the punching bags in her need to vent the aggression. Now he was cooking them breakfast like he hadn’t just missed the only little bit of human-and that was stretching the definition of human a bit-contact that she got in this place. She was practically seething in anger as she made her way to the kitchen. It wasn’t even like she wanted his attention so much as she wanted someone’s attention. While she had never counted herself as a social butterfly, she had always been surrounded by people-Chris, friends, people at work… The lack of contact was driving her nuts, and he had the nerve to take what little bit she was giving away and then act like everything was hunky-dory? Fuck, no.
The kitchen looked like it always did in the mornings he cooked-supplies neatly cleaned up from where he had done prep-work, two places on the island with silverware, a wineglass filled with the fruity wine he favored placed near the edge for her. His smell mixed with the scent of the same pasta dish he cooked whenever he bothered to eat and she could almost feel the need to hurt something. He gave no indication that he even knew she was there as she picked the wineglass up and downed its contents in one long swallow. Rather than set it down, though, she tossed it at the back of his head. Wesker’s movement was too quick for her to follow as he tilted his head to the side in order to dodge it and it shattered against the hood over the oven. She noted the deliberate way he turned everything off on the stove before turning to look at her. She felt her nails biting into her palms as she noted the thick line of blood just over his right eyebrow from where the glass had flown into it from impact. He took the sunglasses off slowly, clearly trying to rein in his temper with the movement.
“Can I ask what that was for, dear heart?” Wesker said slowly and she bit back the growl in her throat. She was pissed, and he was so bloody calm. She felt her temper spike at his attitude.
“Because you are a motherfucking bastard,” Claire snarled almost shaking in rage. Why the hell was she so angry? She didn’t question the mood swing; just went with it. She watched him raise an eyebrow and felt her temper go with it. “You just come up here and act like nothing’s wrong! You bastard, you fucking stood me up!” She had moved so that she was in front of him now and jabbing a finger into his chest. Wesker looked at her in surprise and grabbed the wrist of her offending finger.
“I wasn’t aware we had a date,” he said simply and watched as her eyes grew round for a second before narrowing in a glare. She began trying to pull her wrist away from him.
“We didn’t, you jerk,” Claire hissed. That wasn’t what she had meant at all! “You didn’t show up this morning for sparring. I ended up reducing two bags to sand!” She finally got her hand free from his grip. She stood on her tip-toe to try to look him in the eyes. Their red and orange light didn’t bother her at the moment. “Like I would want to go on a date with you! Even if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve killed thousands and are my brother’s worst enemy, you’re hardly my type. I like my men to actually have hearts,” she was breathing heavily by the time she finished. She could almost see a tick in his jaw as he forced himself to hold his temper.
“I assure you the feeling is quite mutual, Miss Redfield,” Wesker said moving away from her. “I’m hardly attracted to little girls with bleeding hearts.” The sneer in his voice was unmistakable. She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it and leaned in. For one split second, she thought he was going to kiss her to prove his point. But the second passed and he used her arm to shove her painfully into the counter with the sink. She let out a grunt of pain, but from all the time she had spent across from him on the mat she knew that this was not even a tenth of his strength. “I suggest you clean this mess up now that breakfast is inedible thanks to the glass,” he told her as he released her arm. He walked away before pausing at the doorway and speaking again. “You now owe me a meal, dear heart.”
Claire huffed as she began disassembling the handgun on the counter in the gun locker off of the firing range with the intent of cleaning it. She could not believe the nerve of him! She had been forced to take apart the top of the stove in order to make sure that none of the glass was stuck under the burners. It had taken forever. And to top it all off she couldn’t come up with a good reason for her to lose her temper like that. She was normally really good at keeping her temper in check over the little things. She sighed as she forced the little pipe cleaning down the barrel of the gun. He had been really nice as of late, too. She had woken up one morning last week to find the firing range fully stocked without a word from him. He tolerated her presence in his lab when she was well and truly bored. Hell, he had even let her look at her own cells under the microscope. If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were her cells, she would’ve found that beyond cool. Sure, they had had little fights over the last week, but that she knew was normal when living with someone even if you hardly saw them.
Deft hands began putting the gun together as she finished her task, pausing to make sure the slide moved cleanly and didn’t need any more oil. She didn’t know why his parting words bothered her so much either. She was more than willing to cook him something, and it was about time he ate something besides that damn pasta. It was good, true, but man could not survive on pasta alone. Though, a tiny voice reminded her, he wasn’t exactly a man. That was another thing that was bothering her. She had to remind herself of that a lot more now than she did when they first interacted. She figured it was likely from the fact that she didn’t want to think of herself as anything but human and it was hard to think of him as a monster when they were so much alike as far as genetics went. She put the gun back into its case in the locker and sighed. Really this was all so damn confusing. There was a static hum and Claire turned from where she had been staring into the locker like it held the secrets of life to see the Red Queen.
“Mr. Wesker told me to inform you he expects you to be ready to leave for dinner at five,” the little girl said her fake hands clasped in front of her. Claire looked at the computer in puzzlement. They were going out to dinner? “He says that he has laid out appropriate attire in your room.”
“Where are we going?” she asked in confusion clamping down on the part of her that wanted to rage at the idea of him picking out her clothes.
“I am not sure of the exact destination, Claire,” the computer said tilting her child’s head to the side. “It is four-fourteen now. I strongly suggest you head up stairs to get ready.” The brunette let out another puff of air as she headed towards the door. Just great.
Wesker leaned against the doorframe as he waited for Claire to show up. He wore a black suit the custom tailoring making it hang on him in a way he knew made him look good. He hadn’t bothered with a tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. The only splashes of color in the entire ensemble were the two rubies that flashed on his cufflinks. He knew they would be the same shade of red as the dress he had picked out for Claire. A lot of posturing was done in the business world based on looks alone, and while she would have no clue about what she was walking into, he wanted to give her some advantage. He needed the other company heads to side with him about keeping her. He was not at the point where he could just tell them all to fuck off yet.
He raised an eyebrow as Claire appeared in the hallway. Her hair was pulled up in some kind of braided bun that left her delicate neck exposed. There was no jewelry as she hadn’t ordered any and he hadn’t had a chance to get his hands on any. But she didn’t need it. The cocktail dress was ruby red with the fabric artfully wrinkled. It cut her mid-thigh with a neck line that rested just short of being indecent. Silver beading looped underneath her breasts before moving up like a chain to become the straps that held it up. A pair of strappy red stiletto heels gave her the illusion of legs that went on forever. The only thing that ruined the image she presented was the nervous way she was acting under his scrutiny.
“Is something wrong, dear heart,” he asked as he opened the door. She rubbed her arm absently as she walked out onto the porch.
“I feel ridiculous,” she told him, and she did. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn heels this thin and tall. She felt like she was going to tip over any second or at the slightest push. This did not appeal to her sense of survival and self-preservation. Even when she had been forced into going to fundraisers for TerraSave, she always wore something that she could fight in if she had to. Her life had been crazy enough that she felt a little bit of paranoia was justified. The way she was dressed up made her feel like some kind of glorified doll, and she hated it. It reminded her of when she had been younger and had tried so hard to fit in with the other girls in high school. They had always been prettier and smarter than her. It had taken years before she realized that she didn’t have to try to be like them. The memories that dressing up like this invoked were not good, but she wanted to make up for her behavior earlier.
“You look lovely,” Wesker assured her as he closed the door behind them and locked it. Claire couldn’t help the little smile that his words caused as she took the time to look him over. She wondered if it was the virus, but he hardly looked like he had aged any since he had been captain of STARS.
“You don’t look half-bad yourself,” she told him as she followed him towards the hummer. She wobbled as she tried to walk on the uneven gravel and let out a squeak of surprise as he threaded her arm through his. She was thankful for the aid as she made it the few feet to the vehicle. These things were dangerous.
Ch 6 part two