Chapter Text
At the forefront of your mind wasn’t that you were soaked to the bone before your interview, or that your teeth were chattering. It wasn’t the look on Claire’s face through her tinted helmet. It wasn’t even the sticky sensation of your clothes glued to your skin. It was, Is the rain a good omen… or a bad one?
“What the hell are you doing? Get inside!” Claire shouted over the rain as you pulled off the helmet. “Take that with you!”
What you had envisioned- and hoped for- was a pep talk from Claire before walking in with your head held high. Instead, this unforeseen rain storm had you ducking into the building, trailing water with each step, mind completely frazzled when all you could think about was the damn rain.
Barely touching down onto the chair in the waiting area, you heard your name being called. The young guy pursed his lips as he noted your appearance, but didn’t say a word as he motioned for you to follow him.
There was no time to dry off, touch up your appearance, gather yourself.
You were diving into this like you had dived into everything for the past five years. Without much thought for anyone else.
“He’s ready for you.” The man said, stepping aside and signaling at the door in front of you.
Eyebrows raised, you turned toward the young man in question but he was already headed back the way you came. The door in front of you was plaque-less, resembling more of a supply closet than anything.
You knocked, then pushed open the door.
Your feet planted in the doorway at the sight of the man standing in the small seating area that was the entirety of the room, facing toward the only window. The room was dark from the storm and the cold of the interior design. He turned with the door opening.
“Chris Redfield,” You said, because you didn’t bother pretending like you didn’t know him.
This wasn’t who you were here to see, wasn’t who was supposed to be meeting with you. He had no relation to this, which meant he had inserted himself.
He stared, no expression to read or nothing to offer you comfort. You realized then that all your plans had come crashing down even before you even got the opportunity to try. You gritted your teeth.
“Shut the door,” was all he said.
Your first time meeting Claire’s brother and he was exactly how you thought he would be from pictures. It took an impressive amount of self control not to slam the door behind you as you pushed it closed and stepped closer.
His eyebrow quirked and you recalled you likely weren’t the poster post for interview ready. You figured you looked massively unprofessional but there was no going back. There never would be.
Him standing there, inserting himself in his sister’s business- your business- burned you up.
“Why are you doing this?” You hissed.
He didn’t say anything, just stood there with his arms crossed. His head tilted up, as if he were motioning to something.
Questioning, your head moved without thinking but he spoke before you could continue. “You know why.”
“What do I have to do with you? You don’t even know me. If you’re worried about Claire, she’s not involved-”
“She was involved the moment you confided in her. She didn’t have to tell me anything. What you’re doing is foolish.”
“You don’t know me and I don’t need your protection.”
“I’m not offering protection, I’m offering the reality. You’re not getting recruited here.”
He was formidable, he was the wall you hadn’t foreseen having to climb. After cramming, studying, switching your major. After changing programs, training, and practically killing yourself to get the qualifications to be a part of something like this, it slipped away all with the swipe of his hand.
You shook your head, tried to push down the desire to beg. To plead. You knew it wouldn’t be easy… right? You would find another way.
Except this was your ticket, wasn’t it?
You swallowed down the wedge in your throat. Claire’s helmet was still in your hands. You walked over to him and shoved it into his hands, spitting, “Give this to your sister for me,” Before turning around and heading for the door. As you did, you glanced at the top corner of the room and saw the camera trained there, red light blinking.
Ah.
It really wouldn’t be easy, would it?
On the way out, you saw how the guy who had greeted you was hiding a knowing smile behind a book and resisted the urge to cuss him out.
In under five minutes, your chance was crushed.
The rain was more relentless now. You didn’t bother hanging around the entrance, moving off to the parking lot. Claire was due to pick you up whenever you texted her, but you considered just telling her you had found a ride home.
You looked at the unimpressive little building that you banked on holding all the answers. All the lights were on in the first floor, scattered lights throughout the rest. You were sure there were more floors than what was shown, too.
And Chris fucking Redfield had barred you from it.
Leaning on the short brick wall, you looked down at your clothes, thinking again of how you must’ve looked walking into that building.
Bad omen it was.
A smiling face, always a smiling face, peering at you in your thoughts as you tried to shove him away.
The rain had stopped- no, it was still pattering loudly overhead as you glanced up and saw a black umbrella shielding you. Your eyes flicked down to the person holding it- a man, around your age, rain pouring down on him and cascading down his dark leather jacket. His hair was already soaked through and hanging in his eyes, and when you looked at him, the look on his face and his hand moving toward you caused your hand to reach out in shock.
Your lips moved to protest, but your hand had already wrapped around the handle. He didn’t wait around, didn’t say anything, just ducked beneath the shade covering in the parking lot. His car was parked right in front of you.
He didn’t look at you again as he turned his car on, or as he reversed out, but he did as the car slowed. Through the window, you saw his soaked hair once more and his hidden eyes before he was gone.
The sounds of the storm washed away the unusual stranger as you let yourself succumb to self pity. Just for a moment. Then you were digging your phone out of your bag. You flipped it open, heart twisting at the text from Claire, Kick ass and get this job.
A moment of pettiness had you considering telling her all about her annoying ass older brother who had snuffed out that dream before you’d even officially been interviewed, tested, and more.
You flipped the phone closed. Dug out your wallet. Flipped that open.
You stared at the bottom half of a photo booth strip.
Your clothes, the rain, Chris’ stern face weren’t even there anymore.
Closed your wallet. Opened it.
The photo strip was old and worn, and in them was a version of you that you could never get back.
You ignored the you in the top square, whose face was twisted as she grabbed at the arm holding her in a chokehold. It wasn’t you that you cared about, no.
It was your brother, Carlos, big grin aimed at the camera.
Filling the space of that photo booth all the years ago, just like he filled every space. Including the gaping one festering inside you.
The hole that was eating you alive since he disappeared without a trace, five years ago after the fall of Raccoon City.