Wake Up

So far this story is going very well, almost too well for me and I constantly wonder when exactly I am going to hit a writers block that is complete insurmountable. While my flurry of typing has actually ceased I find myself really working on developing the underlieing plot that will make this story so interesting to all those people who find normal day to day activities boring (like me)! I originally stated that approximately 3,000 words was going to be my goal but it looks like I am averaging around 5,000 words a chapter and that seems like a pretty consistant amount. As of 7/3/2008, this chapter has been edited for content and grammar although it still is not perfect.

On a humerous side, I feel the need to mention just how terrifying I find this game. The first time I wrote this story was after reading Dean Koontz, "Life Expectancy", which oddly enough I am rereading now and because of it I christened this story with the title: Prepare to Be Enchanted. While the title has changed, my mind set since I first wrote it in my Junior year in highschool has not. Everytime I try to play this game I scream like a little school girl and have been known to insight looks of terror from my fiance and dare I say, the cops summoned to my residence. Yes. I am a wimp. But I have actually managed to stifle that terror and I got to the part where you fight the giant creature thing and the little dog helps you out. Good stuff, I always say.

-Luky

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Chapter Two:

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Unwilling Emotion

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He was exhausted.

Even as the sun beat against his back he felt it-- as deep as his bones. Exhaustion. His hands gripped the handle bars of the Jet Ski as tight as he possibly could in order to maintain the machine in the rocky Atlantic waters. Water had been spraying against his face and caused his lips to chap and bleed-- and his arms were dried from the salt and from the lack of hydration and none of that helped his current state. With the sun sucking all his energy from him, he was pulling in all his last reserves so he could get them home.

He’d been going for so long at a constant pace that it seemed he hadn’t paused for a moment to take a deep breath in days. His arms ached with each movement and his hands hurt from clutching the handles of the Jet Ski as hard as he had been. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had an immeasurable amount of stamina, he’d have given up long ago and just rolled over and said, “I‘m finished“.

He was going to have to hold on until he could reach the agency and give his official report and then maybe then he’d get to rest a bit.

‘Rest… yeah right.’ he thought morbidly as he faintly recalled what “rest” he’d gotten after he’d escaped Raccoon City. If you call being stuck in a tiny cell for three months without any human interaction other then to tell you when you haven’t pissed enough or when not to do things, rest.

If anything, his profession called it “voluntary” or simply an “occupational hazard“.

He would have given up long before many things happened if it hadn’t been his sole purpose in life to do his duty-- to complete the objective. Not to mention, he had a mission to protect and that‘s what he decided he wanted from his life. When he‘d taken this position it wasn’t simply babysitting the presidents daughter at drunken college parties or stopping her from getting harassed by the press that made him accept it. He‘d be protecting someone who wasn‘t a military official. While in Spain, protecting Ashley had given him a reason to keep going through all the things they had to deal with and all the horrors they had seen, even if she was really annoying.

But then again, she wasn’t that bad.

In fact, she’d proven more then once how strong she could be by helping him in ways he hadn’t thought would be possible from a prissy little princess like he‘d imagined her to be. He had to be honest, he hadn‘t really done a lot of research into her character before he‘d been given the mission. He almost hadn‘t wanted to take the mission because of her but for certain reasons that he hated himself for, he had taken it anyway.

But she hadn’t been too bad in the face of adversity. She’d even shot a gun at an infested townsperson who was attacking him-- and didn’t miss, which was a great surprise to him. Not to mention, the fact that she hadn’t just stood in place, scared shitless, spoke volumes about what kind of strength she had over the things they had faced, at certain times. He hardly expected her to be a little Xena the Warrior Princess despite the fact that a guy could dream.

He remembered the deep pain he had seen in her big wide eyes throughout their horrific time together. He wanted to look away but after everything she’d gone through, the twitch in his heart at her look told him she needed all the positive support she could get. They both needed it.

And after everything he’d gone through personally in the past, not to mention training-- he wasn’t going to back down to the look of death and sadness from the eyes of one girl, never mind how cute and desperate she was. While she wasn’t a supermodel, she certainly had her ample charms, that was true-- but he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his objectivity for a stirring in the nether region.

Especially when he knew he hadn’t had a shower in several days, save for a few dunks in a murky lake with god knows what in it-- and neither had she.

But he couldn’t really stay objective towards her or their situation even as he fought himself over it. They had truly bonded in his moments of weakness and while he still had to protect her, he remembered how his heart had seized in a strange sort of desperation when she was captured-- every shriek she had made had taken his mind of the task and filled him with emotions that were dangerous in a mission such as this. He had felt his breath catch watching a Las Plagas burst from the neck of a man, and reach its bloody, razor sharp hands towards her.

Fear. Cold and instant.

It had struck him each time something came near her. Even Luis going towards her had unleashed a sort of fierce protectiveness that he recognized as very dangerous but was unable to turn off. It wasn’t an emotion; it was a reaction to her and her safety. At least that is what he told himself every time something like that happened. He chalked it up to instinct, instinct to protect and to complete his mission, but secretly he knew it had to be more then that. He was simply unwilling to accept it.

A swirl of emotion bubbled in his chest as he felt her arms reposition around his back and tighten weakly against his sore stomach. He felt the pressure of her face as she laid her cheek weakly against him and if it wasn’t for the fact he knew better, he might have thought she had fallen asleep against him. It wouldn‘t have been the first time she‘d fallen asleep like that but he didn‘t like to think about those moments… not now.

She had to be exhausted. She had done so well despite everything that had happened and despite the fact that she was very bossy with other people, not him necessarily, and had quite the snippy attitude he didn’t hold it against her. They’d both been tired-- exhausted-- and she deserved to have a little conniption even if it meant a bit of his sanity each time.

When she had freaked out over the blood on her hand was a good example of one of those situations. That had sucked. He was genuinely concerned for her as he reached for her, a little bit of his emotions getting the best of him only for her to react like he’d bitten her and run away. Then when she’d gotten trapped it was so sudden that it almost seemed surreal. She’d disappeared from sight and he could only shout after her, a little angry at their circumstances but none the less, promising to rescue her again.

It was no wonder she was the daughter of the man who’d basically won over an entire nation in an election. The democratic runner had no chance against him and it was easy to see that some of that obvious charm was present in his daughter-- even if she didn’t look a thing like the man.

She certainly exceeded his expectations of her being a snobby, prissy little rich girl who was the talk of the locker rooms at her college and he found despite the fact that she a cute and smart young woman-- that she was oddly innocent and sometimes almost…demure.

But what amazed him most was her ability to assist him, or follow directions. Unlike many other people he’d worked with in the past and other people he’d protected, he hadn’t had any person who was as thoughtful or obedient as she had been. If he told her to hide, she hid. If he told her to run, she ran, although not very fast.

She wasn’t perfect by any means. Sometimes she’d followed him even when he’d tell her to stay which made his job harder because he trusted his instincts on looming danger and she had no clue about it. She’d also helped him out many times when it was definitely a two person job, although she was generally slow moving. They both were after several days without good nutrition or a lot of water.

He remembered the first time she had done anything that had been truly, truly helpful…

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‘Leon!’ she had cried, running to his side as he shut the heavy oak door, locking the las plagas in the other chamber. He knew they would open the door, he had to find something to brace it as fast as possible and his eyes searched frantically for something, anything to keep the door wedged shut!

“Ashley, I have to find something to brace the door, you have to find something!” Leon cried as he felt a force pushing at the door. He bore down with all his might, his legs shaking with effort as his feet slid on the dirt covered stone. He watched her turn, her blond hair flying in every direction as she turned her head frantically-- searching for something for block the door.

“Hurry Ashley, hurry!“ he cried, and his eyes lost focus he felt the door start to slip forward and he gave a grunt of encouragement just as she released a cry of surprise and relief. His eyes quickly sprang in the direction she did and saw the huge log she had found on the floor covered in bloody sheets and empty barrels. Seeing it, he knew that she wasn’t going to be able to lift it over the door to lock it in place and he quietly cursed his decision to go into this room, more las plagas could be down the corridor, in another room!

“Leon!” she cried as she scrambled on top of the pile of junk and gave a cry as the splintered wood sank into her delicate hands. Hands he knew would otherwise be soft and not hard and covered in dirt and blood. He tried to answer back to her but his body was focused entirely on keeping the door as shut as possible. He watched as she threw things to either side, finally unearthing the massive log and, grabbing it with both hands under her arm, started to drag it towards him on trembling legs.

She had come up to his side and with relief he watched her drop the log right before the outstretched arms of the las plagas. The sound of the log hitting the ground echoed through the room and time seemed to stand still as she just looked on into the squirming mass seeping through the door, her eyes lowered and an intensity burning there that his breath stopped and time seemed to slow.

Her hands, so small and delicate were at her side, her fingers splayed in the effort to catch her breath and her chest rose and fell quickly, trying to earn a little extra energy. In his mind, he had been screaming for her to move forward-- but she was just a college girl. Just a girl. She wasn’t Ada. She couldn’t protect herself. She needed his protection. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

In the moment before she started kicked the Las Plagas at the door, trying to get them out of the way so they could slam the door shut, he realized that the only thing stopping him from dropping down and letting the monsters swarm inside was the fact that she wanted to live too-- she needed him and because of it, it gave him a reason to give his all-- a reason to stomach the monster growing inside himself. It was a small comfort in this disgusting, wretched world to know that he wasn’t alone. She must have felt the same.

But that didn’t stop him from objectifying the situation. Just because they shared a strange, unknown bond, didn’t mean that he would have the opportunity to explore that difference, that bond. As the door slammed shut he turned quickly and with her help they heaved the heavy wood branch up and onto the doors open hooks, securely looking it in place.

He put his hands against the door and gasped for breath and watched as Ashley’s hands, which still gripped the wooden frame, started to slide with her body to the floor until she was on her knees, shaking and gasping for breath. He turned to look at her just as she looked over at him and the tears in his eyes didn’t seem like that of a whining child’s, but of a brave girl, who had just done more then half the girls her age would have in the same situation.

“I guess this was the right door after all…” she said, and forced a shaky smile on her dry lips, a few tears streaming down her face without hindrance as she did so. He couldn’t speak as he looked over at her, a new respect brewing for her in his heart and as hard as he fought it, he couldn’t deny that something was there, something powerful…

Whether it was the pest that was growing inside them they both were changing, even if neither of them realized it yet. It was obvious that this was something neither of them had expected of their future but it was certainly their reality-- and they had to get out of this… hell… before either of them could begin to understand the feelings and emotions that had brewed and spewed forth from between them.

“Good Job, Ashley…”

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There was of course the fact that they were heading towards American soil at this point. If that wasn’t a statement that inspired hope and dreams, he wasn’t sure if one existed. When they got home there was going to be a lot of questions and a lot of interrogation and he wasn‘t looking forward to it. He had wanted to prep Ashley for it on the ride home but they had been stunned to silence with Ashley’s question of “overtime” that he really hadn‘t wanted to talk about much of anything.

Sex… he hadn’t had that in a long time and sex with Ashley would probably be wonderful, he wasn’t going to lie-- he‘d thought about it-- many times and he was a little shamed by the thought. But saying “sorry” was the obvious choice considering her position and his. And he scoffed to keep from choking from surprise at her sudden outburst.

Hearing something like that from Ashley seemed like every stereotype he could possibly imagine about a college girl and try as he might, he didn’t believe it. He had been tempted more then once to simply take her right there in Spain but he respected woman and didn’t want to take advantage of her body in that way. It wouldn’t have been fair for her if he’d satisfied what felt like more then a year of constant blue balls and training with only men.

Not to mention he was supposed to be protecting her and banging the president’s daughter when they should be reporting in probably wasn’t the brightest of ideas if he wanted to have a job after this mission.

This was another thing. If they slept together who was to say what kind of psychological affects it would have had on her? Whatever emotions she was feeling were spawned entirely of the situation and were not validated through reason but by the instinct to survive, so sex with her could create lots of extracurricular problems he simply didn’t want or need-- despite her having a body that almost called him.

He’d thought about sleeping with her before, many times-- and he‘d come so close to taking what she offered. It wasn’t easy watching her chest rise and fall in the nights and days when they were able to find a little peace to rest and try to find something to eat. She had looked so delicate and innocent-- and the dark part of him liked that as much as he liked a woman who managed a gun.

It hadn’t been easy to see her lying on the ground in that dirty, yet short skirt, that seemed to tease the tips of her upper thighs along her hip line. At night when they had no warmth and were laying wait, she would curl against him, his arm around her shoulders to try and share body heat and he could just faintly see the line of her tan thigh against his.

Yes… they’d become dangerously close.

Yes. He’d thought about devouring those trembling lips, but only for moments-- and even then, it was a matter of sheer lust-- or was it? With so much adrenaline fueling them, there was bound to be some mutual attraction between them. He had longed to touch her but had only settled on a few occasions to linger his hand along her back, to hold her close when he caught her from her fall or to smooth out her unruly, knotted hair as she wept against his shoulder from fear when they were alone.

Yes… overtime at this point was an impossible suggestion even if it was also impossibly frustrating. He knew it and because of his duty, his training, and his mission-- he had refused the offer and intended to keep it that way. As soon as he got back into the states he was going to have to find some way of relieving his frustrations, by whatever means necessary. It didn’t help when her hands were wrapped securely around him, her fingertips just barely touching over the width of his chest.

“Land.” he cried out hoarsely as he suddenly spotted what looked like the gentle sway of the beach shoreline. As they got closer he could see the faint lines of colors, beach towels and bodies sprawled out in a multitude of colors. His eyes blurred from the glare of the sun on the water, but he could still see the lines. He heard her heave a heavy sigh as she peered over his shoulder to see the land.

They hadn’t talked on the way back, it had been best to preserve their strength and he certainly needed it to get back home, with both of them. Mission accomplished? Not yet, but almost. Then he’d immediately get the hell away from her and save himself the mental and physical battle. No more need to worry about lust and close proximity to a young, beautiful girl. He was more eager to get on his next mission and his first order of business as soon as he could do it was to find out what Ada was doing in Spain.

Plus… it was Ada that captivated him and it was Ada that he longed for more then anything. That woman… who seemed a part of him that he could never just save-- he never could save her, she seemed to always be doing the saving. But it hadn’t always been so. He thought she was dead and he’d already locked those feelings away since that time in Raccoon city, his first hell.

‘She’s like a part of me I can’t let go of…’

She was the one woman who, as much as he yearned to help her… he could not. Couldn’t save her. But he could save Ashley. He was going to do that and then he’d redouble his efforts on his elusive companion from the past.

Indeed. And as much as he lusted after Ashley, it wouldn’t do either of them any good to satisfy that craving with each other when it was simply unthinkable… Obviously she wanted to sleep with him, but it had to be more then that-- he couldn‘t just use her for his own physical urges and be down with her- she was too sweet for that. Plus, he’d never make love to a women wishing she was someone else… and as much as he need to satisfy his urges, he cared for Ashley more then enough to know that he wouldn’t…. couldn’t do that to her.

As the Jet Ski crashed onto along the shallow waters of the beach, onlookers screamed and yelled, standing and pointing, their hands raised to their faces to see what the commotion was. It was a good thing that they were both mostly cleaned off by the water… at least he was. As he jumped off the Jet Ski he automatically turned out of habit to help her down as the Jet Ski tipped forward unsteadily.

He watched her face, which was devoid of emotion, ripple with surprise as she started to fall but he reached out instantly and steadied her. She had been avoiding his gaze until that point and now she raised her tear filled eyes up to his and locked his gaze with hers.

He froze, an instant icy glare catching him off guard, he was expecting her to be happy to be home-- happy to be on safe soil-- but the tears in her eyes were of anger, defiance-- and pain. He felt an instant burning at the back of his throat as she swatted his hand away weakly. He simply stared down at her, his hair catching in the wind as she pressed her hand against her chest between the valleys of her breasts, trying to gain balance in the rocking waters.

“I don’t need your help anymore, Leon. I’ll be fine from here on out.” she said as she turned away from him slightly and started to try and walk away and the words stung him. She didn‘t need him anymore, that was fine-- but what about him, did he need her? Did he need any of this? But the walking in water looked difficult and her obvious cold attitude had to do with his response to her offer to go to bed with her. He’d be damned if she’d act like a spoiled kid who didn’t get her way now!

“Like hell you are! Look at you, your shaking!” he yelled, not realizing the intensity of his voice as he reached out and grabbed her gently, but forcefully on the hand. It was a mistake and he knew it instantly as she turned and seemed to melt into his hand, electricity sparking from his finger tips to sear at his heart and his gut. Tears unlike those she had shed from fear were pouring down her face as she looked up at him, confusion written over her features.

He reached up with his other arm, forgetting the Jet Ski entirely and the people who were creeping closer, and wrapped his arm around the curve of her back, pulling her close to him to steady her-- his hand still holding hers against his chest at this point. Her body was warm to the touch and until now he hadn’t even thought about her health-- just getting her out alive was the goal. He secretly regretted not acknowledging the horrible things that had happened to her and discussing it. Thinking about all she had endured made him sick.

“Le…on…?” she whispered, he voice pathetically low. She sounded like a child and felt very small in his arms.

She looked up into his face, her eyes shaking and for a horrible instant he was terrified of whether or not they had removed her parasite from within her-- but he saw her eyes focusing and un-focusing on his face and despite the heat of the day, her skin was oddly pale. Her lips trembled and she shuddered. He knew she was going to pass out but she seemed to want to say something. He leaned in closer to her face and her eyes widened, more tears coming out as she mumbled thoughtlessly in his ear.

And just like that, she passed out.

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That’s the end. Now I’ve tried to address every emotion of Leon’s in this chapter. You have to have his point of view in order to start a character development from where the game left off. As you can see… Leon is attracted to Ashley-- but he still feels attached to the first woman he let die-- the one he wasn’t able to protect. He’s also torn between duty and honor-- and protecting this woman from everything, including himself. It’s hard for him to accept her affections because he doesn’t want to get too close-- he’s a wounded soul. In this way-- bother he and Ashley are going to help each other. Next chapter: Quarantine.

Edit: 7/3/2008

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-Luky