Ephemeral Permanence

Ephemeral Permanence

by Ticklefish

dedicated to barb

*****************


"Ha! You kill me, man!"

Vickers was almost crying with laughter. He and Speyer were sitting at the bar, a collection of empty glasses around them. I wasn't close enough to hear what Speyer had said but his gestures said everything. The movement of his arms and the positioning of his fingers clearly pointed to him telling the other man about yet another of his sordid conquests. I just hoped he hadn't manage to seduce one of the female team members.

An office romance was the last thing I needed at that point.

Morale had been a little low in the S.T.A.R.S. office. We had managed to gather enough evidence to put a somewhat unpleasant gunrunner away, only for Chief Irons to stick his nose in and claim it as a victory for the Patrol Division.

There was nothing we could do about it. Irons was technically my superior and my real superiors weren't concerned enough to do anything about it.

So I organised a team-building exercise. A little research suggested that the best way to cheer a team up is to give them lots of free alcohol. I could see that going wrong so I took everybody to a local bowling alley. S.T.A.R.S. was split into two smaller teams, Alpha and Bravo and I was pitting them against each other.

The mistake I made was going along with them.

I had no choice really. Being distant was one thing but they had to know I was on their side.

Which I was. It had been almost a year and a quarter since the unit was formed and I had grown to like the majority of them. I couldn't show it though, I had to remain the cold, aloof, tough Captain. Albert Wesker didn't 'like' people.

In truth, I didn't like all of them. Speyer was an idiot and a braggard. I felt bad for thinking it but it was the truth.

And then there was Chris.

While Bravo Team's omni man was sharing his latest tale of depravity with Alpha's impressionable pilot, Chris Redfield was making his presence known at the lane. His prowess with a gun was no fluke, his aim with a bowling ball was deadly as well. The white pins a few meters away didn't stand a chance.

Or at least, that was how it started. As he drank more beer, his skill became more erratic and our lead against Bravo was slowly evaporating.

I wasn't playing of course. Both myself and Marini, Bravo's captain and my second-in-command, were sitting it out. My idea. We weren't allowed to use our superior skills to give our side an unfair advantage.

A complete lie, naturally. I've never bowled before, never even touched a ball. And there is no way that Captain Wesker could be seen to be anything less than a expert at everything.

Time ticked slowly by.

I kept up a pretence of discussing procedures with Marini but really my attention was elsewhere the whole time.

It was squarely on Chris.

Chris in his simple, blue jeans and tight white top.

Chris whose every moment was etched onto my eyeballs in lines of fire.

I couldn't help it. I tried but I couldn't. He dominated my vision completely.

Time continued to pass and left casualties in its wake.

Burton left us, pleading that he needed to spend at least some time with his family.
The Chambers girl fell asleep and was taken home by Valentine, the only other female in the unit. Frost refused to let them go unescorted and went with them, no doubt to try his luck later on.

Bit by bit, the unit went its separate ways. The game was essentially over. We didn't know who had won, we'd stopped keeping score a long time ago. Even I had lost track after a while, my mind on other things.

Eventually the alley closed and Chris and I found ourselves standing outside in the late night gloom. My ears were ringing from the loud music and my body felt a little stunned. It was quiet and peaceful in the street, a considerable contrast from the visual and audio assualt I'd been subjected to for several hours.

"Well." said Chris.

"Well." he said again.

"Well," he tried a third time, "I'll see you at work tomorrow at work, Captain. Night night."

With care, he pulled out his car keys from his pocket, turned and walked off across the parking lot.

It's possible he didn't see the lamp-post, although it's also possible he was expecting it to move aside for him.

I walked to where he was sitting, rubbing his head. He didn't appear injured, just a little puzzled.

"I don't think you're really safe to drive, Redfield." I said, feeling a little awkward.

I hadn't drunk any alcohol. I never did. It affected me so easily, I would have been under the table before I'd finished my second beer.

Having been drunk so few times, I never knew quite how to handle people who were.

Chris held his keys out in front of him for a moment as if trying to work out what they were, then nodded.

"You'll drive me home then, Captain. Very decent of you."

With that, he stood up, more or less, and staggered to the corner of the lot where I'd left my car.

"Wait, you..." I started, but it was too late.

I stooped to pick up the keys from where they had fallen onto the floor and set off after him.

As it turned out, my worries about Chris being ill in my car were unfounded. He was drunk, there could have been no mistaking that, but he was a peaceful drunk. He'd wound the window down and sat watching the scenery go by and quietly humming along to the radio.

Which was just as well really as I needed all of my concentration. The neighborhood where Chris lived had very little in the way of streetlighting. The residents were responsible, they claimed it gave them a better view of the stars.

The stars weren't out that night, the sky was cloudy and I was wearing sunglasses. I've never driven so carefully since getting my license.

Eventually we pulled up in front of Chris's apartment building, I put the car into PARK and flexed my fingers.

The drive had sobered Chris up a litle and he thanked me for the lift and made to leave.

"Redfield, wait." I said.

He turned to me, an odd expression on his face and I gestured at his buckle.

"You're still strapped in." I pointed out.

It was obvious that he would have struggled with the catch so, rather than watch him fumble, I reached over and undid it myself. As I did so, he seemed to be making his mind up about something.

"Sir," his voice was cautious, "can I ask you a question?"

I sat back in my seat and assumed my most serious Captain face.

"Proceed."

"What do you look like without your shades on?"

That took me by surprise. I'm not sure what I had been expecting but it certainly wasn't that. The sunglasses were part of me, they were part of the look. No-one, and I mean no-one, was allowed to see me without them on. I drew in breath to berate the man for his insubordination.

I slowly let the breath go, reached up, closed my eyes and took them off. My hands were threatening to shake and I quickly hid them in my lap.

I opened my eyes to find that Chris hadn't moved. He was still looking at me, his eyes searching my face for something. After a moment, he nodded to himself and placed his hand on my leg.

"You look better without them." he murmured.

Before I could even think of a reply, he lunged forward, I felt his lips on mine and the world came crashing to a halt.


***


Her name is Excella.

She and I had been lovers for five or so years before her violent death.

Her name is Excella.

I had strung her along, pretending to like her for half a decade, purely in order to get my hands on her money. When her use had gone, I had disposed of her.

I injected her with the Uroboros virus.

I knew the virus would reject her.

I knew it would consume her.

I knew it would eat her alive.

Her name is Excella.

And I killed her.

Somehow, she's gained yet another drink and she's slowly swirling the glass round in her hand as she looks at me.

My brain, my superior brain has succeeded in its task. The answers are starting to come into my head, each revelalation hitting me harder than the next.

I'm dead.

I have failed.

Chris had won.

Everything I had thrown at him hadn't worked.

He had come for me and he had killed me.

And now here I am. I'm dead, my fate is now to spend eternity with the woman with a mocking smile sitting opposite me.

I am at the whim of the gods when I was supposed to have become one.

I have failed.


***