Chapter Text
''Where you came and I laughed,
and you left, and I cried.
Where you told me even if we died tonight,
that I'd die yours.''
- Ethel Cain -
Our own grave
1. Incest (Two Children in a Motel)
Scrap, scrap, scrap. Plotch.
It had only been a suggestion; the frustrated outburst that had escaped her lips after twenty-six hours of uninterrupted work.
"For the love of God, just fuck."
She had stared at them both impatiently, her eyes glistening with sleep and fatigue and too little coffee in her system to endure another discussion — Alex's opinionated, petulant tone, Wesker's harsh, icy-rage-tinged voice.
Scrap, scrap, scrap.
There would be no difference; none, except that Alex would not be relocated and maybe,
maybe
she would have some peace, William's paranoia slowly eating away at her, making him both victim and accomplice.
Wesker had looked at her with the haughty coldness of someone facing a whiny, unreasonable child, while Alex had curled her lips into an unpleasant, ambiguous grimace.
I'm not his whore, was her neutral reply.
No, Annette reflects now, you're not.
Scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap.
The nail falls onto the paper, rolling among words smeared with ink and blood.
Annette stares at it as if it doesn't belong to her, releasing a toneless, alien eh.
William doesn't even look up from B-05, his beard at least two weeks old and the stench of rotting flesh and sweat all over him — a mixture she's grown accustomed to.
"You should stop that." Alex's voice interrupts her, grabbing her fingers with her own. "If you keep this up, you'll get to the bone." she chuckles, lifting her hand and studying it with interest.
"There's too much tension in the air." she continues, letting go of her and leaning one hip against the edge of the desk.
Annette stares straight into her eyes, barely blinking; Alex responds to her silent scrutiny with a sly, amused expression.
"You're his sister."
"Oh, you found out."
"Does he know?"
''Yes.''
''And did he find out before or after you fucked him?
''Do you think it would make any difference?"
"... No."
The hydraulic pistons of the double containment doors sigh and spring into action, letting Wesker pass and welcoming him back into the belly of the beast — down, down, into the depths of Raccoon City's bowels, where every sin is forgiven and washed away.
"What?"
"You know basic biology, Annette."
"Not like that: Albert is Spencer's godson. He's an orphan, and...oh."
"Oh."
Alex pulls a handkerchief from her jacket pocket, wrapping it around Annnette's battered fingers and picking up the torn nail — cling: there it goes, amidst the wastepaper and William's snacks.
"What are you?"
"Didn't you read that in the test results?"
"No: I meant beyond that."
Wesker's gaze sweeps around the lab, lingering for a moment on William, then on her — finally finding Alex, and that's when the enormity of what has been born overwhelms her, leaving her breathless.
"We are the future, Annette."
The obsession in both their eyes could destroy an entire world.