Partners

 The next day's a long one, and not just because Chris is popping ibuprofen like Pez.

The investigation at the Caucasus Facility has turned up proof that there were events occurring in that building that nobody on their team had any clue about. Someone fought a small war in parts of the complex that neither Chris or Jill ever saw, no one can figure out how that really convenient B.O.W. outbreak got started in the first place, and the day starts off with one of the salvage teams finding the body of an intensely mutated human in an otherwise untouched part of the facility. The dental records come back and it's Sergei Vladimir, former Spetsnaz, former head of Umbrella's security, and one of the last Umbrella VIPs still loose in the world. Somebody shot him to death, along with a couple of five-year-old models of Tyrant, and they have no idea who.

The base has been wiped clean. The security footage is gone, the hard drives are empty, and the base's AI was erased, all at about the same time Chris and Jill were fighting the T-ALOS. There's still a substantial amount of intel in the base, but it's all hard copies, tissue samples, the corpse of the T-ALOS, and facts they can derive from context. It's still a win, but it's not the overwhelming win they came here for.

It doesn't matter, though, because at about the time they're getting ready to break for dinner, somebody uses the satellite internet to check the news.

The information they were here to get has turned up in the last place they expected, dropped right in the laps of the prosecuting attorneys in the U.S. government's case against Umbrella. It's not going to be enough to wreck Umbrella's appeal, but it's going to give the defense team a few sleepless nights.

That kills a lot of their enthusiasm for tearing the facility apart, because that as much as says they've been played. It's par for the course for a lot of these guys, many of whom are mercenaries or ex-military and thus used to the left hand not knowing what the right is doing, but it's nothing they'll ever think of as fun.

"Wesker," Chris says to Jill, and she nods.

 They're back in the trailer and changing each other's bandages, which means they're both half-naked, because some of the shrapnel punctures are in embarrassing places. A week ago, Chris would've hauled himself out of bed to go find a medic rather than let Jill handle this, but that seems dumb now.

"We'll get him," she says. "Eventually. He's not that smart."

"Yeah. You're right."

He grits his teeth as Jill swabs a hole on his arm with iodine.

"Let me ask you something," Chris says.

"Sure."

"What am I to you, Jill?"

"You're my partner," she says.

"Yeah, of course, but--"

"It means more than you know, Chris."

There's something she's not telling him, but he knows better than to push.

"I figured we were done with all this," Chris says. "Was I wrong?"

"No. I decided the whole thing was a mistake after that talk we had in Canberra." Jill picks up the first-aid kit and hands it to him. "You were able to treat me like just another teammate before I slept with you. Afterward, you got protective, and started blaming yourself for things you couldn't possibly have predicted. I figured if we were going to keep working together, and there's no one else I'd rather work with, it was better to break it off and go back to how things were."

"What changed your mind?" Chris moves around behind her. There's a long shallow cut across her shoulders, a souvenir from something with claws, and he gets to work with the iodine. She lets out a hissing sound.

"A lot of things, I suppose. Mostly it was..." Jill shakes her head. "Last night was about as close as I think I've come to dying since Raccoon City. I knew it was going to be bad in there, but that was like walking into a war. I honestly don't know how we both survived."

"Well, we're good at this."

"Yeah, we are, but..." She lets it trail off. "I don't know. I could dress it up with a lot of words, but it's like this. You're the only person in the world that I know, know, I can always count on. These last few years, being able to really trust anyone has been so fucking rare..."

"Hey." Chris reaches over her shoulder and puts his hand gently on her head, turning her towards him. "I'm not going anywhere."

She puts her hand over his. "Don't be stupid. We're good, but we're not immortal, and saying I can always count on you is another way of saying I've been taking you for granted. If you'd died--"

"All right," Chris says. "Never mind 'what if,' okay? We're both here."

"I love you," Jill says suddenly.

He stares at the back of her head.

"You're the best man I've ever known and I trust you with my life," she says, "and if that's not love then I don't fucking know what is. We almost died before I'd ever said that and I needed to get it out. Okay?"

"Yeah," Chris says. "I love you too."

He's nearly said that dozens of times in the last four years and never has. Now that it's out there, it took no effort. He almost feels cheated.

She turns and puts her arms around his neck. "I'm glad that's settled, then."

Chris lets his hands rest on her hips. "Yeah."

Jill looks down at their bodies, which are mostly hidden by gauze and bandages, and with a soft chuckle, rests her forehead on Chris's. "And in a perfect world, I would follow that up by banging your ears off."

"You'll get your chance," Chris says. "Just... not right now."

That gets her laughing quietly.