Chapter Text
Chris had to be sedated on the osprey, he’d started to have a panic attack and had to plug his ears the instant they lifted off. The injection Rebecca gave him put him quickly to sleep, out like a light and with no perception of the vibrations from the vtol. He slept on his stomach, trying to put his newly mutated bone and muscle structures at ease. He could lay on his back still, but it wasn’t comfortable for long periods.
Fucking lycan poison. He thought bitterly as he fell asleep. Everything is amplified and I sleep like a damn dog.
But it could have been so much worse. Rebecca could have had to sedate him with a dart gun and then haul him restrained in an animal crate. That was what she was prepared to do when she arrived and found Chris only partly transformed and waiting for her outside the ruined cabin under which he’d been staying. His raven hair had lengthened, becoming almost manelike down his back. His fingers had canid nails instead of human ones, and these had taken practice to be able to do fine details with such as typing or handling a knife and fork. He needed more meat and a higher caloric intake than he’d previously had. His foot bones had stretched, trying and failing to become digitigrade like many animals, and he had pads and nails on five toes. He was going to need custom shoes, his heels stuck up into the ankle part of his boots and once he was out of the snow Chris shucked boots entirely and started rubbing his sore feet. His feet HURT trying to cram them into a normal shoe. He had a slight hunch in his posture that was never going to go away.
And his senses were so much higher. Hearing, smell, taste, texture, they were all far more intense. Vision was still normal. Fur went down the back of his neck and back, lightening around the back of his thighs to normal human thickness. His front was much lighter and finer, but still there and fur thickness rose towards what would have been normal pubic hair.
The two months after the transformation had been extremely uncomfortable, even alarming. All of Miranda’s creations, or Moreu’s as he had made his fair share, resulted from using a combination of the cadou parasite and the megamycete. The worms acted as a vector for the mold. It made the infection far more difficult. Both anti fungal and anti parasitic drugs were hard on human systems. Even if the drugs had been available in the era the Lords were recruited in, they likely would have had little chance of full recovery. The cadou tended to cannibalize all their siblings inside of a particular host, before finally taking up residence somewhere in the chest or abdomen, at which point it had finished the host’s genetic alterations and any mutations that happened before or after were locked in.
At least, when he’d halted Chris’ mutation, that’s what Wesker had concluded based on both samples from the full lycans that had survived and what documents he could recover from the ruins of Heisenburg’s factory. It’s underground and portions of castle Dimatrescu remained after the bomb blast, along with any tunnels along the outskirts of the village. House Beneviento was completely untouched. But it wasn’t useful. Donna Beneviento was not a scientist. So there were no useful documents in her area.
The damn bastard had survived, and though Chris was still suspicious of his presence, the blonde had helped him survive and stay sane. Wesker had been having trouble walking, and his eyes were mismatched, one the catlike red and orange, the other his normal blue. These had changed repeatedly during their time together, along with pupil shape. His superspeed had slowed considerably, though he still had most of his super strength. Icarus had flown too close to the sun, Chris concluded. Wesker had lost his wax wings and gotten a lava filled wakeup call.
And then there was the other problem that had come up. He needed a chance to ask Rebecca about it. Wesker had referred to it as “heat”. Chris had had dogs growing up, he knew what that was. Men did not have heats. Some species of male deer had rut, so did elephants, he knew that much. It had started off small within just a few hours of his waking up. Wesker had loaned Chris a labcoat, basically to use as a hospital gown. But Chris had found that Wesker’s scent had been on the coat. It was enticing, and brought up long buried desires from Chris’ days in STARS. This was an attraction he thought he’d left behind in the ruins of the mansion, one he normally would NOT have given into. But nothing about that situation was normal.
Chris had ended up laying on the lab table he’d woken up on, nose buried in the labcoat, masturbating to thoughts of just what Wesker would do if he found him masturbating while wearing his labcoat. Wesker must have had surveillance cameras in his lab. That was the only thing he could think of that would have even given the blonde an inkling of what he’d done.
Because as soon as Chris had gotten up, and hadn’t gotten rid of the labcoat, he’d made an advance on his former pointman. Chris had been terrified of his emotional and sexual response to the advance and run off, locking himself in a supply closet. Wesker had gone out scavenging, and returned to find Chris laying on the floor of the supply closet, masturbating to the point of pain, face buried in the poor piece of clothing.
Being picked up and carried to a side room had essentially destroyed any shreds of self control Chris had had left. He couldn’t bring himself to orgasm no matter how much he tried. But as soon as he’d given in and had sex with Wesker, he was able to come. Every few hours over the next week he’d become aroused by Wesker’s presence. So much so that even being bitten very hard on the shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, had produced a pleasurable response strong enough to bring orgasm.
It was as if his mind had become imprinted with the thought of the blonde as a sexual partner, a “mate” as Wesker had put it. Even to the point where the first time they’d had sex, he’d begged Wesker “Breed me!” His whole lower body had writhed with the force of his orgasm then, the blonde’s last few strokes to his prostate had felt like hammer blows.
Aside from a round of the flu about a month later, lasting around ten days, the rest of Chris’ stay in Wesker’s hideout had been extremely relaxing. They spent time out in the wilderness, in the early spring snow. It had been a balm to Chris’ psyche after all the combat and war he’d experienced.
And it was the second time they’d had sex that Chris dreamed of on the osprey ride back to the states.
Arousal had woken Chris from a sound sleep, and he could tell from Wesker’s breathing that the blonde wasn’t asleep either. Chris had simply rolled in behind the blonde and spooned him. Wesker stirred, brought to full alertness from the other man’s arousal. “Back for more?”
“Mmmhmm…” Chris began trying to suck a hickey into the juncture of Wesker’s neck and shoulder.
The blonde rolled over on top of Chris, who kept trying to suck as dark a hickey as possible into Wesker’s neck. Wesker stroked his head, and Chris could feel his awakening erection. This wasn’t going to take long. He started grinding against Wesker’s member, coaxing the blonde. At the same time Wesker’s fingers slid to Chris’ entrance, checking to see if they needed more lube.
Later Chris would be embarrassed, his anus had started to produce the same kind of fluid as a woman’s vagina. But it made getting what he wanted that much faster. Wesker gently set the man’s upper body down and went to retrieve an extra couple of pillows, using them to prop Chris’ hips up in bed. “Hopefully this will be easier on your back…”
“Why is this…”
“I don’t know, just that the other Lycans out in the valley are also mating. I don’t have the imaging equipment Chris. I’d have to cut you open to find out why, WHILE this is happening to you.” Wesker began testing how stretched Chris’ entrance was before pressing inside a second time.
The two men kissed, tongues twining as they began to thrust. Wesker was able to snap his hips, and the posture Chris was in had narrowed his anus, increasing the friction. Wesker pushed his legs back so that Chris’ knees were against his chest in the crab position. In heterosexual couples, the crab could be used to aid conception. But its main draw for regular sex was the level of friction it afforded both parties. Chris rolled his head back and forth, moaning and begging as the sensitivity of his body began to increase. Cries of “Wesker!” became “Albert!” The blonde snapped his hips repeatedly, pistoning inside of Chris’ body. Chris couldn’t stop the lewd noises streaming from his mouth. The world beyond the two of them became a haze, and the filter that one’s frontal lobe normally uses to keep what one says in check simply left the gates open.
As his high neared its peak, Chris couldn’t help what was coming out of his mouth. “Please… nnnggg… Alpha please! I need to come, please, nnngggg, BREED ME!!!” some form of high anxiety had snuck in along with the uncontrollable libido of the heat. He needed… he needed what? Chris couldn’t be ‘bred’, he was a man! The mental image that went through his head as he came was almost comical, struggling to move on the couch and eating pickles and ice cream while Wesker rubbed his feet and stroked his stomach.
And what was even more disturbing, Chris had thought as he lay there, savoring the feel of the other’s essence seeping into his body, was how arousing that image started to become.
The settling of the osprey woke Chris finally. Rebecca must have kept him out the entire ride, because dawn was coming up over New York. Chris grabbed his boots, neck creaking and ears perking. “Where are we?”
“Blue Umbrella offered us some facilities.” Rebecca answered. “Only place we could get with acceptable strings attached. Tundra told me what you’d found. That the BSAA europe branch sent a BOW.”
“So you picked someone the BSAA couldn’t afford to be without.”
Blue Umbrella provided a huge amount of data services to the BSAA. Services and databases they couldn’t live without. Not only could the BSAA not afford to alienate them, but they could use their control of the BSAA’s databases to hide him.
“Some of the things we can do for you are just cosmetic. We can, for example, reconstruct your ears so they don’t look wolf like. I have some colleagues in reconstructive surgery that can be discreet that won’t sell you out to anyone else. Hair removal’s fairly easy too. The harder bit is going to be genetic. I have to see how much damage the mold did and how far the cadou progressed through your system.” Rebecca noted. “Hmm, they should have been here by no…”
“CHRIS!” Claire burst out of the rooftop door, throwing her arms around her brother. “You’re okay!!”
Chris let out an oof noise. “Yeah… tired though, and very sensitive.”
“Sorry.” She loosened her grip. Behind her, Leon and Jill had quietly followed.
“I’m home.” He called out to them, offering a group hug.
It was only when Leon and Jill joined Claire that Chris felt his instincts rear again. He shoved his face into Claire’s shoulder, taking in his sister’s scent and rubbing his face in her shirt. Jill received a similar greeting. His new set of instincts weren’t really phased by either, probably because Jill had been as much a sister to him over the years as Claire.
When he got to Leon though, something made the hackles go up on Chris’ neck and tingles follow his hackles down to his spine. It was the same sort of response he’d started to get from Wesker, only it stopped at just interest. He must have lingered a little too long though, Leon arched an eyebrow at him. Chris shuddered, breaking out of his reverie.
He felt a bit more clear headed and mournful without Wesker there. And as Claire led him happily down to the floor they’d be staying at, and he started thinking about it, Chris was sure he could put his two month dalliance with Wesker behind him. Maybe now was the time to start flirting with Leon. He’d felt a much higher need for sex, and the lithe, more agile male would certainly make a good mate.
Then of course Chris pinched himself, trying NOT to think about that.
When he entered his quarters and found a number of his personal effects had been brought, including pictures and keepsakes of and from his parents, the small suite they’d put him in was clearly going to be home. It had a hotel vibe though, one of those long term stay suites that could also be a one bedroom apartment if it wasn’t so expensive. The decor was blue, the bedding was softened cotton. The closet had a variety of different weights and materials of blankets.
There was a com system, which he just had to push a button on, and a television, so he could catch up on any news or shows he’d missed. There was a heavily secured internet connection with a warning that all e-mails had to be checked for sensitive information before they’d be cleared. The only message though was from Mia, your basic ‘thank you for saving us, don’t be a stranger’ followed by a ‘i don’t blame you for Ethan’s death, please don’t blame yourself’ type message that to Chris just felt like platitudes. However, the portrait she’d sent of Rosemary was perfect. Chris carefully saved it to his ‘personal’ folder.
The picture however, and the act of unpacking and settling in, made Chris realize just how dependent he was on scent now. With none of Wesker’ scent anywhere in the suite, the new set of instincts he was stuck grappling with was both fearful and hopeful at once. Fearful Wesker wouldn’t be coming back, and hopeful that someone else’s scent could fill the void. “Yeah, MINE.” Chris grumbled, chucking his clothes on the bed and heading for the shower.
The soaps and shampoos had had to be custom made to have only minimal perfume. The water pressure was adjustable, and the hot water seemed to be unlimited. Normally very neat, Chris confirmed the washcloth did indeed hold his scent. So he put it by the sink on the hanger there. The towel got slung over a chair after again, confirming it smelled like him. He was dressed and drying his hair with a smaller towel (and trying to find where to put it), when there was a knock on the door. “It's me.” Rebecca called out. “May I come in?”
“Sure.” Chris gave up on drying, tossed the towel over by the TV, and grabbed the hair dryer attached to the dresser and started trying to dry his mane. “I think I’m gonna take you up on some of that hair removal. If I have to dry this much it's gonna be too much hassle.”
“Sure… but for now I need to get you into an MRI. I asked your squad, they said the tracker they injected you with didn’t contain metal. So you’re cleared.”
“Yeah…” Chris flushed slightly, embarrassed, not for the first time, at his altered body. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He scattered his dirty clothes around the room.
“What is that for?”
“It has to smell like me. This place is… empty…”
“So you’re filling it with… you?”
“I know it makes no sense. I start feeling anxious if I don’t. Smells and sounds keep making me jumpy.”
“I had them remove as much scentwise as possible from here when you had an anxiety attack on takeoff. It didn’t occur to me that the opposite could be unnerving too.”
“Has to be mine…” Chris was preoccupied as he brushed his hair, before tossing the brush into yet another area of the room and pulling his hair into a loose ponytail. His stance was almost neurotic. Was this all because of the mutations? Wesker’s smell would have been nice, but he didn’t have that. I can’t have that. He reminded himself. I should probably try matin… DAMNIT DATING someone else… he stopped to look in the mirror at the large bite mark on his trapezius.
The flashback was visceral and intrusive, turning his head for Wesker to bite him, to mark. He knew just where he’d wanted it. The blonde had read his instincts so well…
… You can’t have him. He’s bad for you. He’ll distract you. He’s too understanding and not caring enough. What if you become inconvenient for him? He already proved he’d leave you if it kept him free.
That wasn’t what Chris wanted out of life. At all. If Wesker wanted Chris to wait for him he had another thing coming. They’d both agreed what they were doing couldn’t last. It wasn’t sustainable. They could dull the hostility, but Chris wouldn’t change his principles and you couldn’t change Wesker’s wiring past a certain point.
“So… MRI.” Chris finished making sure his clothes were in the right spots, his hairbrush was in the right spot. He kicked his boots into the closet to act as a marker.
“Don’t you need those?”
“I need new ones. My foot won’t lie flat in them.”
“And that is something that is hard to do surgically.” Rebecca sighed as she lead Chris down the hall. “I need a look at what was changed structurally, so we can separate what can be changed with genetics and what will need surgery. It may be that fully fixing the damage will take the rest of your career.”
The halls had nice clicky linoleum tile. It meant that Chris would be able to hear people coming a long way away. His nails made plenty of noise as well. It looked like his steps were longer too. He still had five toes even if he also had toe beans now.
The MRI was a new problem. There was no hiding the yowls of pain Chris made at the noise. You could hear them through the walls and out in the hallway, where it brought Jill, Leon and Claire running.
Rebecca turned off the machine and found Chris curled up in a ball with his fingers in his ears, doglike whining noises were coming from his throat.
“Easy there…” They gathered around the MRI bed. Leon was the first to reach out and touch Chris’ head. He reached out to scratch behind his ears and rub the top of his head. Chris sat up slowly, shaking like a leaf. Claire sat down next to him. Jill next to her. And suddenly they were all sitting on the MRI bed shoulder to shoulder.
It took over an hour to get earplugs and earmuffs that didn’t contain metal. Leon and Claire each kept an arm around Chris while Jill gently rubbed his back, trying to soothe his anxiety. Chris leaned in each direction and nuzzled Claire and Leon needily. Then Jill hit a sweet spot and Chris sighed, arching his back up into her touch.
They coaxed Chris into the MRI and left anything metal on their persons behind with Rebecca so they could stay. Claire had wondered why they were so insistent, having never had an MRI. Leon had responded with a viral video of a metal chair attached to a spring scale in the room when an MRI was turned on and suddenly she couldn’t get her earrings and jewelry off fast enough.
“Claire, I want you with me since you’re his next of kin. Leon, Jill stay with him in case he has another anxiety attack.”
“How many of these has he had?” Jill asked worriedly.
“This is the second time since we picked him up.” Rebecca replied. “I thought I could take care of this with normal privacy but it may be that we have to work as a team here. If he keeps getting anxiety and panic attacks people who are familiar will be needed to calm him down.”
Chris lay on his stomach in the MRI, refusing to lay on his back. When she saw the hunch in his shoulders, Rebecca stopped fighting him on posture. She was just going to have to deal with it.
What she wasn’t expecting as the results started showing up on the screen and she served Claire some high powered coffee, was the completeness with which Chris’ transformation froze. She could see some mutated structures and others formed by the juvenile cadou worms in his body. “This is incredible. He should, biochemically, have been almost entirely lycan by now barring an unforeseen immunological event. But his transformation has fused so completely that the cadou worms inside him are completely dormant.”
“We need to get those out right?”
“We need to find out if getting them out could hurt him.” Rebecca corrected. “If so, we have a problem. We’d need to protect his genome from further mutation while we remove or wake the worms. These are nematodes, they’re tiny. And even taking a clump of them out surgically could cause Chris’ infection to progress.”
“How’s that?”
“They cannibalize each other. Like sharks. They use a thing called a quorum, a consensus, to decide how far the mutation is. At the very end, there’s one adult cadou left that acts as a symbiote with the host. The goal needs to be to keep Chris stable as himself, but either remove all the cadou and mold OR get the Cadou to mature to adulthood and enter a symbiosis state, something that’s easier if his immune system doesn’t react.”
“So what’s the better odds?” Claire finished stirring ginger syrup into her coffee.
“Unclear. It's likely Luis’ old suppressant recipe for the plaga suppressor would make it worse, and attempting to physically remove or kill the juvenile cadou could make his mutation destabilize. If we can keep him like this, it may be far safer. But someone like Arias comes up that tries to muck with his body the way a lot of bioweapons are prone to doing and he could destabilize anyway. Where’s the most stable, most sustainable option here…? We have CRISPR at our disposal too if we needed to. But a body can reject that.”
“I thought CRISPR was permanent?”
“Oh no, the human body can still reject attempts at genetic alteration.” Rebecca sighed. “That’s part of how Jake Muller was so resistant to everything, because his genes resist alteration. There’s no easy answer here. Thank god this thing is more refined than any other in the country. Blue Umbrella leads the entire industry when it comes to medical imaging and testing. You know at one point they sued Theranos?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, the charge was corporate espionage. Then the whole scandal breaks and they withdrew their lawsuit and made every effort to make them a laughing stock. Even offered to have medical tests redone at no charge for people who had had tests done by Theranos for life threatening conditions.”
“How’d they manage to be so generous?”
“Because their medical imaging technology makes them a fortune and their databases make them indispensable to the BSAA and DSO, as well as numerous other anti bioterror organizations. They get subsidies as long as they keep those databases running.” Rebecca tried to think of a good analogy. “There was a video game years ago, Mass Effect, one of the bad guys in it called information his weapon. That’s the sort of design philosophy Blue Umbrella keeps. They are always chasing the big picture and bringing forensics in with the biology and data analysis.”
“Hence why when I needed to identify a varcolac a year and a half ago I got repeatedly sent to them.”
“Well they’ve also spent years chasing the Connections and Miranda. They aren’t perfect or fully good by any means. But they’re predictable and knowledgeable with a set specialty they don’t deviate from. Not like their predecessors. Umbrella sprawled everywhere in its heyday, dipped its toes in pretty much every conceivable product created by chemistry or biology.”
The computer beeped, bringing up a large interactive scan of Chris’ body. Then it began immediately highlighting every change in yellow and every clump of cadou or mold in red. Of the latter, there was surprisingly little, focused a hundred percent around the cadou.
Claire gulped, “So all those in red, those are the monsters hurting my brother?” She shook slightly. From what she’d heard, Chris had been infected in battle, not tortured. And the people responsible were dead. There was nobody to direct her fury against.
“They aren’t monsters Claire, they’re pathogens. And they have rules they operate by. You just have to learn them.” Rebecca corrected her patiently. “I know it's hard for you to understand internally, even if you do consciously, but they don’t specifically have it out for humans in general or your brother in particular. To them he’s just habitat.” She poked one of the anomalies near his head. “Hellooooo…”
“What is it?”
“A new gland. And its right under the bitemark on his shoulder.”
“He has a bite mark?”
“You didn’t notice?”
“All the fur.” Claire grumbled. “And he was wearing a turtleneck before that.”
“He does indeed have one, and this gland is right smack underneath. I’d LIKE to get a sample of whatever’s inside and run it through the mass spectrometer.” Rebecca started sorting the anomalies out, putting skeletal and muscular changes to one side, clumps of cadou and mold to another, and internal organs to a third. “A lot of these changes are internal. Look, right here around the pelvis there’s a seam that shouldn’t be there. There’s another organ beneath it.” She zoomed in. “Claire, viewed out of context what does that look like?”
“Oh, my god. It looks like a uterus!”
“Yeah, it's different from a woman’s, but the basic shape is still there.” Rebecca turned on the coms. “Chris you’ve been really good, but I need you to go back in for one more. There’s a spot we need detail on.”
“Seriously?” Leon grumbled.
“Sure.” Chris sulked slightly.
Rebecca started up another scan focusing on Chris’ pelvis. It took a few more minutes, and Claire was silent the entire time. When Jill entered the room and saw the tension on her face, she gently slid an arm around Claire’s shoulders. Claire leaned on her, closing her eyes to block out the source of her emotional pain right then.
The MRI finished with a loud series of beeping. The clicks receded and to help Chris’ nerves Rebecca released the mechanism holding the medical table inside of it in place. When it slid out, Leon knelt by Chris’ head and gently rubbed behind his ears. Chris leaned into the touch, whining slightly.
Jill looked on at the screen as Rebecca began inspecting the new set of organs. “Is that what i think it is?”
“If you mean does our best friend have a womb and an ovary, yes.” Rebecca sounded annoyed. “What’s more, there’s two connection points. See here? There’s an incomplete vagina with a different structure from a woman’s. And then there’s a spot right above the prostate where it connects to the anus. There’s no fallopian tube and at both ends, cervix and sphincter, I think they’re both penetrable under the right circumstances because they look a little looser. Assuming its viable fertility speaking, this configuration may even raise the odds of getting pregnant. We have to tell him about this for his safety. And there’s another problem.”
“And that is?”
“There’s only one other person I can think of who could have frozen Chris’ transformation this completely. And he’s supposed to be buried in lava right now.”
Claire ground her teeth. “Albert. Wesker. You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” Rebecca had a grim expression on her face. “What we have to tell him in the next few minutes is going to be VERY hard on his nerves. Right now Chris needs all the emotional support you can give him. And Claire you CANNOT judge him on possibly sleeping with Wesker. Do you understand?!”
“Yeah, let's just… let’s go talk about this.”
“I’m afraid so.” Rebecca sighed reluctantly.
When they entered the MRI chamber, Leon had an arm around Chris’ shoulders and their heads were leaning together. Jill was pacing back and forth in worry. Chris whined needily. “Well?” Leon asked, looking up.
“Mixed results as far as severity, definitely not gonna be lethal but we both know how little that means in our line of work.” Rebecca sighed. “Chris, whatever mutations happened caused severe changes to your reproductive tract.”
“My dick looks normal enough.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes and called the MRI results up on her tablet. “THIS. Chris you have a womb! And an ovary!”
“WHAT?!” Chris yanked the tablet out of her hands. “Oh… my god.”
“Chris, if that's fertile, you may actually have higher chances of getting pregnant than a woman.”
“B… but… I didn’t look any different!” Chris was shaking like a leaf.
“Your vagina hadn’t finished forming.” Rebecca said gently.
Claire sat down next to her brother and started rubbing his back. “Rebecca thinks there was only one person who could have halted your mutation. Chris… did Wesker find you?”
Nodding, Chris burst into tears. Immediately he was surrounded in a group hug. Leon and Claire were hugging him on his left and right, Jill from behind and Rebecca from the front. He had no idea how long he sat there weeping, it was clear though. Wesker had wanted him to keep their time together a secret. But his reclusiveness and trying to fix himself had just taken a backseat to being with Chris and Chris didn’t think it was fair before finding this out. Now he was just disgusted. With himself for agreeing to not make what they were doing permanent to not making it clear he wanted Wesker to stay. He needed to talk about it, but he needed to make the circumstances clear to his friends and sister. And right then he was far from clear minded enough. He’d pretty much already broadcast that he had slept with Wesker from his reaction.
Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Leon shook his head. “Let him calm down before we get him to talk about it okay?”
Claire nodded slowly. Leon was much, much better at reading people. He was like Wesker in that regard. They both had an uncanny ability to see through people’s behavior. Time and experience had changed the tone of what they each sought in other people. Wesker focused on what he could gain, and was heavily rooted in tactics and end goals. Leon’s mind was focused more on a person’s personality, what made them tick, were they trustworthy? You could get a Luis in a given encounter, or you could get a Krauser.
After almost forty five minutes, Chris finally spoke. “Something… odd happened. I don’t think he was behind it but who the fuck knows? And Wesker didn’t have imaging equipment. I looked, he was telling the truth about that.”
“So he couldn’t have seen what was developing inside you.” Rebecca frowned, deep in thought.
“It started so simply, with his scent on a labcoat. Before long I was obsessing over that scent. I needed it. I couldn’t control myself. Wesker went out scavenging and I lost it. I NEEDED sex so badly it was maddening. My body felt like it burned. Nothing worked. I would masturbate over and over and I couldn’t get any relief. I was in pain, that’s how much I needed to get off.”
Leon whistled appreciatively.
“When he came back, Wesker offered me sedatives. But I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted HIM. He tried to dissuade me but… god Rebecca whatever that was, it took a crush I didn’t want to give into from back in my STARS days and turned it into a full blown obsession. I didn’t just sleep with him once either. That need came back every few hours for an entire WEEK.” The look of misery on Chris’ face was heartbreaking. “We agreed that what we were doing wasn’t sustainable. That we’d have to leave each other at some point. His body isn’t fully healed, he’s got a limp and mismatched eyes. If I had to guess, there’s probably some internal problems making it harder for him to move.”
“So his threat is much reduced. But still potentially there.” Rebecca frowned. “Chris how much of a contemplative mood was he in?”
“Very. He was looking for Spencer’s connection to Miranda. He could be searching for answers as much as medical stability.”
“Alright, when everything that’s immediate testing wise is settled I’ll pull what records we could retrieve from Project W.” After the raid on Spencer Mansion, the BSAA and Blue Umbrella had stripped every document and book they could from the place. It was enough that they had victims whose families they could notify and they were able to find caches of hidden technology, research and bioweapons.
By the time it was done, the evidence against Ozwell E. Spencer had been so rock solid that both the Justice Department and the Hague declined to prosecute Wesker for killing him. It was the one charge they’d decided NOT to bring against him of a HOST of homicides and war crimes. Albert and Alex Wesker and their deceased foster siblings had had justice in abundance by any reasonable standard. But Albert Wesker was not normal. Nothing for him ever would be. So contemplating the past and himself was likely going to be as Herculanean a task as anything else related to Wesker tended to be.
They sat in silence for a moment. And then Rebecca said quietly again. “Chris, we have to do a blood test. And we may have to do an ultrasound too. Not to mention there’s a new gland in your shoulder, we need a sample of whatever it contains.”
“Um… yeah just… I need everyone else here with me okay?” Chris’ tears were slowed.
“No problem. Whatever you need.”
“And I don’t… I don’t want to be alone… please don’t leave me alone.”
“We’ll take turns spending time with you, okay?” Claire asked worriedly.
“Yeah… yeah that would be good.” Chris rose from the medical bed.
“I’ll take the first watch.” Leon said calmly.
Rebecca left the room and came back with a syringe and several vials, as well as an injector. “Let's get the blood samples first. We can get the pregnancy test done fairly quickly.”
That wasn’t as hard as it had seemed. It was going almost too well. And then Rebecca stuck the injector into the healed bite mark on Chris’ shoulder to try and get a sample from the mystery gland.
Chris’ face went white. He screeched, shuddering and shaking with both orgasm and pain before passing out.
The last thing he heard was Claire cussing inventively and Leon trying to shake him awake.