Chapter Text
The cold affects everyone differently. For Ethan, the cold was a mix of frightening and inviting. The initial thought that you're freezing to death makes you frightened, but once you've been wandering for long enough, the cold proceeds to numb any pain, sending a quiet chill through you, and to Ethan Winters, that felt inviting.
But the cold couldn't help him ignore the gravity of what he had done settle in, almost rendering him incapable of moving (that is, if he wasn't possibly being chased by freaky wolf monsters or had Rose's whimpers and cries against his chest, wrapped in the jacket he'd since taken off to keep his daughter from feeling the cold). What had he done?
At first, nothing much had gone through his head. Just that he couldn't stay. He couldn't remain beside Mia for one more second. He'd chosen her at the house, and he was starting to regret it. Everything just ran in flashes through his head; sneaking up from beside his wife, grabbing rose, getting in the car and leaving. Of course, it hadn't lasted long, just to this strange run-down village. Survivors speaking of a Mother Miranda, before eventually burning in their sanctuary.
Ethan had done his best to keep the creatures from attacking his daughter, even at the loss of his own fingers. A large man-like one had leapt down then, and Ethan would have accepted his fate if not for the sharp cry of his infant daughter, granting him one last launch of adrenaline. So Ethan Winters did the one thing that came to mind;
He kicked the fucking bastard in the face.
It barely made a dent, the creature barely turned his head, but the slight pause gave the man enough time to move and get away. He was certain the monsters would follow him again, but after a loud howl, they all disappeared. Ethan was alone again. Alone with the thoughts that kept swimming of what he had done, and why , almost feeling guilty in a way.
Why did he feel guilty?
Guilt. It bubbled and boiled in the deepest pits of Ethan’s subconscious. It truly was a pity, after everything; The Baker’s, the testing, their once ‘happy’ marriage; he still turned his back on the only person he had left.
Mia…
He takes time to reminisce about what they once had, what could have possibly gone so wrong? He thought they were perfect for one another.
Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe he was just too stubborn to love; maybe there was some truth to how she treated him in Louisiana. Maybe.. just maybe , it wasn’t the mould that made her hate him so much.
Ethan couldn’t stand it, he knew he shouldn’t spend this time thinking back to it but what else was there to think of? The monsters that screech, running faster than he could even think?
Maybe he should just focus on being alive.
But did he even want that outcome?
He wonders where the thoughts of fading away originated from. They weren’t always there, but there had come a time where all he could think of was walking outside of his ‘home’ he once shared with Mia, gun in hand, ready to become one with the earth. He once thought bad things only happened to good people; but if he was such a ‘good person’; why did the pain continue on even after 3 years?
Maybe it was, truly, his fault indeed. Maybe Eveline was right about him.
Maybe he never loved Mia.
He hardly remembered his childhood, not that it was terrible but it was never perfect; but was anyone's childhood perfect?
Ethan finally found a place he could relax, just for a second; a church. Funny, churches were always seen as a ‘safe haven’ throughout history and now he was sitting on the floor of one; rocking his daughter and feeling nothing but guilt for what he had done.
The church was small, the interior decorated in older styled decorations; portraits of 5 individuals. He couldn’t help but stare; each of them seemed so…godly? Like they were on display just to be worshipped but there was no one to worship them anymore. Candles surrounded the portraits and platters of rotting gifts for these ‘gods’.
He hated religion, he really did. Ethan once was a person who believed in a higher power but then he was shown the true power of the universe; like it was showing him that god abandoned the world long ago.
The blonde felt his face scrunch up in slight disgust as he stared, remembering the events that lead up to where he is now slowly came back to him as he is reminded that gods don’t exist.
“..worship my ass.” he mutters to the portraits as if they could hear him.
He looked down at his now sleeping baby as he finally released a sigh that had built up in his throat, allowing his head to fall backwards against a wall he sat in front of.
Then it comes back, Mia , the life he left behind. A mother without a child.
He glances down at his wedding ring, a new feeling bubbling up his throat and poisoning his mouth. It was bitter. Although he couldn’t understand or pin-point the emotion he felt towards the reminder of his broken marriage. Maybe he was feeling bittersweet, but there was no sweetness to the memories; why would there be? She never took time to listen to him, she lied to him, she helped the creation and protection of a deadly bio weapon that tried to kill him. A Bio-weapon that forced him to uproot his life and move to a country he knew nothing about, he was just an average american who just got dragged into a situation he would’ve avoided if he could’ve. If he could have avoided it all, he would’ve. It wasn’t worth it.
Mia was never the same, but maybe that's why he felt so guilty because he was never the same either. Maybe that’s what trauma does, it changes people.
He scrunches up his face; pulling the ring off and throwing it in a fit of sudden rage..but he regretted that too. His face softened, she tried just as hard as him..didn’t she? At least that’s what she said.
“I am TRYING Ethan. You just don’t fucking realise it!”
Her voice still echoes through his tired mind, maybe she was trying. It wasn’t fair that he’s blaming her..this was HIS fault.
Mia went through more hell than Ethan ever did, right? She was trapped there for years and he was only there for a day.
Selfish.
He knew it was selfish of him to blame her for changing but she talked so proudly of leaving it behind, so he tried. He tried to resort back to his old self; he tried to live up to her expectations of him but it just was never enough .
Even after having a baby with her, nothing changed. He could tell she was keeping secrets still, but if he ever tried to ask..she would brush it off, she would change the subject and push the idea that Ethan was the crazy one now.
He believed that. He was definitely not right in the head.
Chris even said his brain was… oh god Chris .
“Shit…I need to move.” He takes a sharp breath, standing as quickly as one could with a baby strapped to their chest.
Ethan knew that it was only a matter of time before the BSAA would be chasing after him, which means Chris would be close behind him. He knew they would eventually start tracking him, he needed to get somewhere where Rose would be safe.
Then, and only then, he would finally be able to rot.
His body was slowing down, he was exhausted, hurt, cold and his mind was shattered. Ethan just wanted his baby to be safe just so he can melt away with the void, finally turning up to his appointment with the grim reaper.
The blonde, finally standing once again, let his empty shell of a body push on; his hand makes contact with the church's door. He turns his head back; giving the shrine a small glance before allowing his eyes drift towards the now discarded ring that was supposed to symbolise the everlasting love he was meant to have with his wife. Ethan lets the memories of her fill his mind, the good and the bad. The arguments, the laughter and the deep rooted trauma the two had experienced together; he let himself drown in those memories just for a second, convincing himself that this would fix everything. It was his way of finally letting go.
He nods before turning his head back to the door he stood in front of; glancing down at his daughter.
“..this is it, Rose. it’s just you and I now.” he whispered to her, allowing his eyes to raise up to the door. He pushes, the door opening itself willingly as his feet meet the outside world once again.
The thoughts were all crashing down. Moving back and forth, calling Ethan an idiot, a fool, someone who shouldn't have left. Why would you leave safety? ( because it wasn't safety , a small voice was drowned out by the rest)
He focused back on the cold. Rose whimpered, trying to bundle closer to her father's dwindling warmth. He was thankful she was too young to understand the amount of blood and gore he was coated in.
"It's alright Rose," He lowered his voice, leaning his head against the babe's for a few moments, heart warming at her coo to her father's voice. "We'll find somewhere to rest soon." Hopefully , his inner voice whispered, the doubt he wouldn't let Rose hear.
Almost like a miracle (things Ethan didn't believe in), a large, almost gothic in design castle loomed over him, thick iron gates that squeaked and creaked open, loudly. Ethan flinched, as though the noise alerted the woman far, far away by now. He stumbled up to the doors, almost crumbling to his knees. The cold was starting to take its toll now, he needed somewhere safe for Rose before he let himself fade with the cold.
He wasn't sure he had much strength left in his freezing and throbbing hand, but even so, he lifted it up, the loud knock echoing through. For a moment, he wasn't sure anyone would answer.
Then the door opened.
And while Ethan expected many things, what he saw was not one of them.
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
Nobody knocked on Alcina Dimitrescu’s door anymore. Her castle was left far from those that still lived in the town.
So, when she heard the loud crescendo of her knocker echo once, twice, three times, a quiet chill went through her spine. She called Cassandra to stay away with her sisters until she told them it was safe, not knowing who or what was behind the door.
Of course, it could be Miranda, but she did not want to chance it being some hunter come to attempt to destroy the “monsters that plagued this village”.
What she hadn’t expected, however, was the sight that greeted her.
A dishevelled, clearly half frozen man with a head of blonde hair, covered in blood (blood that smelt both of his own and the disgusting lycans Karl always had about-), a gun that shook in his grip. She would have shut the door without taking a second glance-
If it weren’t for the baby. A shrill cry split the air, calling the mother to turn back around. Her eyes widened as the jacket bundle the man was holding shifted, and he almost just as quickly moved to shield the baby from the huge form in front of him.
Maybe it was the thought of a child alone, freezing and cold, or perhaps it was something else that stirred quietly, but Alcina gave a shadow of a smile, and spoke.
“Well, who would you be?” Her elegance didn’t waver, but the wariness was evident. The man stared, and for a moment Alcina believed him to be daft or deaf, whichever proved itself to be the truth first.
“I…Ethan. Ethan Winters.”
Winters.
Alcina kept her eyes from widening. Ethan Winters. A name Miranda had uttered, saying he was important to her, needed for- for something , something she had not disclosed to the tall woman and her “siblings”. That was why she had left, to try and find him, bring him here.
And if he was important…then surely the babe in his arms was just as important. An intriguing thought raced through her, having her hide her smirk in a delicate smile, lifting her head up.
If Miranda was looking for him, and he had come here, then if Alcina were the one to bring him to her, surely, surely that would put her high in their mother’s favour.
So, Alcina gave him a warm smile, though she knew her eyes remained the same; cold, calculative.
“Well, Ethan Winters, what on earth is someone like you and your child doing out in this cold…?”
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
Ethan willed his half-frozen neck to crane up, looking up at the tall woman. Every instinct in his mind told him to run, to get far, far away as possible, but there was something else, some quiet, unspoken part of his brain that told him if he didn’t do this, his daughter may not survive the night. And Rose needed warmth above anything.
“I…we need shelter…my…my daughter needs shelter.”
The strange woman tilted her head, and she was too tall, her hat concealing too much of her face for Ethan to see. She gave a smile, and moved back slowly.
“Of course, I would be more than willing to help you both…” Ethan walked in slowly, looking around at the beautiful interior of the castle. It amazed him, that despite the decrepit feel of the town, the way people were dead and gone, the way the creatures prowled, that something- some one - was living here.
“You can call me Lady Dimitrescu, Ethan Winters.” She said his name slowly, some strange and unknown tone to her voice. The small voice telling him to run was getting louder, but he didn’t have the energy. And Rose needed the warmth, no matter what harmed him.
“I…thank you.” He kept his voice quiet, his head down. Out the corner of his eye, a shadow moved, causing the man to snap his head to the side, eyes wide with fear.
Nothing was there.
“Not to worry,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice cut through the fear and panic clouding his thoughts, “I’m sure that was just one of my daughters…”
Daughters. Ethan’s shoulders relaxed of tension slightly, following the woman down the halls, as she pushed open a door.
“You can rest here for the time being.” When Ethan walked in, he jumped at the sound of the door closing.
He paused, waiting for the footsteps to dissipate, to grow faint until he was certain no one was there.
And then, only then, did Ethan fall to his knees.
What had become of this poor boy? What happened to the boy who fought against the people who hurt him, what happened to that stubborn attitude and desperation to be alive?
Well, it’s simple;
It didn’t exist anymore.
After everything, Ethan had truly lost his want to stay alive. It died off a long time ago, anything that was left inside him was now dependent on a baby.
Ethan let out a low, tired laugh as he muttered,
“That’s quite selfish of me...isn’t it, Rose?”
Ethan’s eyes drifted down to his baby; seeing her tear stained face, her eyes that seemed to know what he was thinking.
You’re a liar, Ethan Winters.
He watches Rose, was this really all worth it? Rose had no mother to take care of her now and she was still too young to be separated from some kind of motherly figure.
He had failed to keep his family safe, he failed to prove that he was a good father even after trying so hard..
He still failed.
Ethan was a liar, he promised she would be safe but now he kneels on the floor of an unknown place with an unknown woman and her daughters roaming the halls.
Who knew if they planned to kill him and take his daughter?
Tears poured, the gates breaking as he pulled his daughter up so their foreheads could touch..and he cried.
He sobs and begs for forgiveness from his infant child as if she was the voice in his head telling him that he was a liar and a failure.
Ethan wondered if this was worth kidnapping his own child and separating her from her mother when Rose needed to be with her.
Was it worth seeing her crying, starving and cold?
The sobs that left his mouth began to become muted screams as he slowly pulled Rose into his chest and held her tight; his head falling forward.
He screamed, silently, for mercy; but no one could hear the screams of a half-dead father as he begged for someone to hand him something that would suddenly fix all his mistakes.
But maybe something had handed him something that would fix it? Maybe he just hadn’t realised it yet.
Ethan muttered words that were barely coherent, broken sentences of a broken man; only hanging onto life by the few ropes that he had left. They were withering away slowly but he hung on, weakly.
Rose looked around, confused on why her father was so upset; the type of upset that made her upset.
She needed to get someone's attention, so she screamed.
The baby’s scream only made Ethan fall deeper into his pit of self-deprecation. She was screaming for him but all he could do was sob and blubber words that broke the second they left his mouth.
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
Alcina was still in her room, moving to grab the phone she was to use to contact Mother Miranda, a grin tracing itself on her lips. She could already see the shade of red her “brother’s” face would be in his angry haze.
But before she could pull the phone off of its receiver, a shrill cry split through the house. She knew it too well, despite it having been years upon years since she had heard it herself, sending instincts long buried, long forgotten, into overdrive.
A baby.
Not a cry of pain, no, but a cry of alarm. The one a baby would use to get attention if something was wrong. She moved without making a sound, heading down the hall to the room she had given the idiotic manthing and his child.
But it was another sound that stopped her from ripping open the door.
Sobs. Purely loud and gut-wrenching, mumbles too faint for her to hear without the door being open, the baby’s cries having gotten steadily louder and louder, still alarmed, begging for help.
But not for her.
For the manthing of a father.
Pushing the door open silently, her eyes widened at the sight of the man, already tiny in comparison to her, now seeming smaller, just clutching his daughter. Tears were staining his still blood-soaked clothes, mouth open in silent screams, mutters and sobs coming out at rapid speeds.
Miranda had gone after… this ?
Something shattered, a memory pushing itself to the surface, memories she had locked away.
Instead of Ethan, she saw herself, years upon years ago, clutching to the dying forms of her young children, as Miranda had come forward, speaking of a way she could help them.
And she had…but at what cost?
If Miranda was after this man…or rather, what if it was not the man she was after? What if it was not Ethan Winters, but that child …the child Alcina had felt strangely connected to, the one that made her choose to not slam the door in his face.
The child that…that he seemed to solely care about. She remembered, she had not cared what Miranda wanted with her, wanted her to do, she would gladly go through anything for her daughters, the ones she had brought in and loved unconditionally.
If Miranda wanted that child, wanted to take her away from him, what on earth would that do to him?
Deep down, she didn’t think she wanted to know the answer.
The way she had been…Miranda… Miranda …
Miranda had taken advantage of her, of her love for her daughters. And if she had taken advantage of her, then the others…had that been the same?
Her thoughts shifted, and any thought of taking him, taking this child to Miranda, vanished. Closing the door, Dimitrescu took a breath, and slowly knocked on the door. It took a few moments before Ethan opened the door, and it scared her how… fine he seemed, as though he hadn’t been breaking a few moments earlier.
“Y…Yes?” His voice was small, scared. For a moment, she would have been happy in that situation. But now…now was different. Building up courage, she spoke.
“Ethan Winters. I believe you and I need to have a chat.”