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Chris sits with the curtains drawn, trying to keep the light out. His migraines have been getting worse, and the constant power outings in his small city in Mexico haven’t been helping either. He can’t get hot water, or see anything at night. It’s causing way more stress than he needs on top of being hunted by the US government. He saw something he shouldn’t have, and nothing has been the same since. He was run straight out of the US, and to be honest, Chris couldn’t care less about behind run out. But he misses Jill, and he feels like he has to help the people he saw. Put them out of their misery at least.
He saw the experiments that the government was running on the mutated humans, the ones whose lives had been taken away by Umbrella. He rubs his temples, but it doesn’t help. He’s been trying to sleep for a few hours, but everything is just too overwhelming. He glances to the kitchen where his alcohol is. He’d had a weak day when he bought it, but stowed it away in a cabinet. He hasn’t been weak again since then, but he finds himself thinking about it. Just enough to sleep, even though Chris hasn’t drank since… since he couldn’t stop drinking. It’s been a long time, and some part of him knows that he should keep it that way.
Chris’ phone starts ringing, and he silences before he loses his patience and throws it across the room to shut it up. He drops back down onto the couch, his eyes unfocusing. Chris only stays like that for a few more minutes before stumbling to his feet. He wobbles to the kitchen unsteadily, searching the cabinets until he finds the one that he put the liquor into. At first he only takes a few sips, but that quickly turns into a lot more. Enough that he can barely feel anything when he eventually passes out on the kitchen floor. The black that overcomes his vision feels like heaven.
He dreams of Jill, of her sweet smile, and beautiful face. The way she would lean into his touch when he brushes her hair back, or the way she would throw her legs across his lap when they were watching TV in his apartment. She was always so warm, and Chris feels so cold in this apartment all alone. Everything feels wrong when Chris wakes up. His face feels hot, but the rest of him is freezing. He’s shivering, his muscles painfully contracting. He struggles to focus on the ceiling, but at least his head doesn’t hurt anymore. He takes that small solace before passing out again.
Light streams through the window when Chris wakes up, and it’s odd. He’s in his bed now, not on the kitchen floor. There’s soft breathing to his right, but he can’t stay awake long enough to figure out who it is. A cold compress is placed on his head, but he still feels like he’s burning up. He fades in and out, wondering what the hell kind of alcohol it was that he ingested. Eventually he’s able to stay awake, even though his eyes are heavy. Chris sits up, glancing around his clean room. He feels better, but his muscles still ache, and his brain feels a little foggy.
Chris can hear someone moving around in the other room, their footsteps light. He steps out, walking towards the living room. It’s a short hallway, and he stops at the end, staring at Jill, who’s standing in the living room. She’s tidying up, but looks up and catches Chris’ eyes.
“Hey, are you feeling better?”
“Jill?”
“Yeah, I found you. Come sit down.”
She walks over, and grabs Chris’ arm. She leads him to the couch, sitting him down.
“When did you get here?”
“A couple days ago. I found you passed out on the kitchen floor. You were delirious and running a high fever. You were sick, really sick.”
“Oh, that must have been why I felt like my head was going to explode,” Chris mumbles. “But are you really here?” He reaches out to touch Jill’s hair, and she laughs.
“I’m really here. Why did you leave?”
“They ran me out of the country. I couldn’t get to you. They were trying to cover up their experiments.”
Jill’s eyes go wide. “What experiments?”
“They’re experimenting on Umbrella’s victims.”
Jill’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t say anything about it right then. “It’ll be ok. Let’s get you some food. We’ll worry about everything else later.”
She brushes Chris’ hair out of his face as she stands back up. She walks to the kitchen, and Chris watches her go.
“I can’t believe she’s here,” he whispers, dropping against the back of the couch.
Jill comes back a few minutes later with some peanut butter toast, and two cups. One is herbal tea for Chris, and the other is coffee for her.
“Here you go, love.”
Chris takes a bite of the toast immediately, his stomach rumbling.
“How have you been?” Jill asks, worry in her tone.
“Fine.”
“Forgive me for not believing you when I found you passed out,” Jill says deadpan.
Chris snorts. “Touche, I guess I haven’t been taking very good care of myself. It’s been hard by myself. Have you heard from Claire? How’s she doing?”
“Worried about you. She’s been helping me look for you. Everyone back home is fine though, it’s you that we were all worried about.”
Chris sighs. “I get that, and I’m sorry for worrying everyone. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s not your fault, but we have to figure out what we’re going to do.”
Jill curls against Chris’ side. Her eyes are distant, and it’s clear that she’s thinking a little too hard. Chris puts a heavy arm around her. His eyes are starting to drift closed again. Jill’s warm against him, and it feels like everything is finally going to be ok again. At least he’s not alone anymore.