Deal With The Devil

Jill gasped, her lungs springing painfully to life for her first breath of fresh air in hours. She had no idea how long she was out. In fact, all she remembered was diving onto him, to save Chris, then falling through the window...

She tried to sit up, only to find she couldn't move. The sound of waves crashing against rocks set a mind-numbing backtone. Her eyes opened, and the waves broke on the nearby cliff. A sharp pain radiated from her back. No wonder she couldn't move. The fall broke her spine.

"Chris?" Jill whimpered, using what mobility she had in her neck to look for her partner. Nothing. Of course he wasn't around, she thought, I just fell a quarter of a mile. He must've given me up for dead and ran off. Jill smiled to herself as she slumped forward. If she was going to die here, at least she knew Wesker must've met the same fate. Umbrella would be down for good...

"That injury looks serious, Valentine," a cold, familiar voice echoed from behind her, "I do hope they have good medical at the BSAA." A spike of fear ran through her at his voice, that chilling, emotionless voice... the fearless leader.

"Wesker..?"

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Wesker reminisced, approaching the ex-STARS agent, walking into her line of sight over the jagged rocks as if it were child's play. Completely unharmed. What the hell was he now? She'd heard Chris mention seeing him on Rockford Island, but didn't believe it until she saw him tonight, standing over the corpse of Ozwell Spencer. She couldn't believe it. She'd seen the Tyrant gut him in one swing back in the Spencer Estate, back when the whole nightmare began. Before Raccoon City was a household name, right up there with Chernobyl. She saw his body slump to the ground off the monster's claw, lifeless. Back upstairs he moved like lightning, just disappearing and reappearing like a magician, in between bullets, fists and knives. What the hell had he become?

Jill's head was spinning, her breaths light, gasping. Her lungs were damaged. "How did you..?"

"Survive?" Wesker finished for her, "Please. You know me. Did you honestly think I'd left anything to chance?"

"Bullshit!" Jill tried to growl, "That monster...the Tyrant ripped a hole right through you!"

"And now we get to the interesting part," Wesker says, with the hint of a smile. He knelt in front of Jill, reaching into his jacket. From it, he pulled what looked like a pistol, with an enlarged barrel, and a hypodermic needle where the muzzle should be.

"So ends the tale of Jill Valentine," Wesker lamented, "Even if your spine wasn't broken, that gash across your stomach will bleed out eventually. And if you're unlucky enough to survive all of that, the waves will eventually take you. If I remember correctly, you ran into a bit of bad luck escaping Raccoon City as well. It was a lucky thing good old Carlos Oliveira was there for you, wasn't it?"

Jill was surprised at just how much Wesker knew, but quickly remembered who she was dealing with. "Bastard!" she hissed through her clenched teeth, "Don't try and tell me you rigged that as well?"

"This time, there's no knight in shining armor to save you," Wesker taunted the dying woman, "No hero to ride off into the sunset with. If you want to live past this cliff, if you want someone to save you, you'll have to settle for the villain's arms."

Wesker lifted the syringe to her eyes. "You haven't got long left; there's little point to lying to you. This is how I survived the Spencer estate. It's a variant of the G-virus, courtesy of one of my companions in Umbrella. I estimate you have about five minutes before you die; you'll either succumb to your injuries, or you'll live long enough to drown at high tide. Injecting you with this will give you a proven ninety percent chance of survival."

Jill looked at the device in a new light, as the faint hope of survival it was. "Imposs...ugh!"

"No, not impossible," Wesker assured her, "You have to remember I'm a scientist first, bastard second."

"What about the... ten percent?" Jill groaned through the onset of pain.

"Nothing happens. No skin off my back if you live or die," Wesker replied, "but it does mean I'd have to look elsewhere for a new assistant, one accustomed to dealing with the sort of things only few have."

"What... did you knife your last one in the back?" Jill smirked.

"Other way around, actually," Wesker admitted, "but time is of the essence. Regardless of our past, I have the opportunity to save your life. Whether you accept it or not is up to you, but I suggest you make up your mind now."

Jill struggled to focus on Wesker's face, but his stone features betrayed nothing. Why the hell was he doing this? What did it matter to him if I stayed alive? Jill saw her vision blur, her whole body had become sluggish, almost before she was even aware of it. Wesker was telling the truth about something; she was dying. The undulating drone of the waves went on in the background as Jill came to her decision.

"Do it," she conceded, her eyes locked to the syringe. Wesker smirked, levelling the needle at Jill's neck, piercing the vein roughly. Jill groaned as she felt the virus flow into her, a numbness in the left side of her neck, ever so slowly dulling and fading away.

"All that's left is for you to die, Valentine," Wesker grinned. The words didn't quite register with Jill, and she barely saw Wesker turn away before falling into blackness, "I hate to leave my people waiting."

---

Jill felt dizzy, as if her body was at the end of a pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth. She felt wind rushing past her, a sense of vertigo, it all made her feel like she was sick with drink. One too many. Seemed like her mind was all over the place as well, like it couldn't focus on one thought.

She must have breathed, and she felt someone's arms around her. "Go back to sleep, princess," the voice said, "it won't be too long now." She felt her head cloud over once more, her consciousness return to the darkness.

---

It was different from before. Jill felt calm, still, as if she'd just woken up in the morning. Her eyes opened to concrete, but felt a thin mattress underneath her, and a cheap, cotton pillow on top of it. The loose hospital gown she was wearing offered little against the cold, before she realised it wasn't all that cold. Rolling over showed her a bare, concrete room, a heavy metal door marking the only entrance. A prison cell? Or worse..? A glance up into the corner revealed a small black dome attached to the ceiling, no doubt hiding a security camera. Whoever kept her in here wanted to keep tabs on her.

It was obvious who wanted to keep tabs on her. Memories of that night returned to her, and her deal with the devil in black leather. Her hand moved to her neck, expecting some sort of mark. Nothing but her own smooth skin. A hand shot to her waist, only to find that normal too. Shocked, Jill sat up, looking down the front of her gown. No scar tissue at all. The deep gash that all but killed her had completely and flawlessly healed. Then it hit her. She was sitting up. Even her mangled spine was as good as new. What the hell has he done to me?

She would have pondered this further, but the door swung open with a loud grinding creak. A woman pushed in a crash cart, looking the furthest thing from a nurse imaginable. Black high heels, a dark bobcut not unlike hers, almond eyes, and a scarlet floor-length slit dress that ran all the way to her hip. She wore a hands-free device on her left ear, folded away for the time being. "Hello. Don't believe I've had the pleasure, Ms. Valentine," she said cheerfully, wheeling the cart to the bedside, "My name's Ada."

"Where is this?" Jill asked, fully awake as Ada began to pull at her hospital gown, lifting it to reveal Jill's bare chest. Ada murmured a hum of approval, before reaching for the crash cart, securing a number of pads and strobes to Jill. She then switched on the crash cart and checked the readout. Flicking out her headset, she began to speak.

"Subject regained consciousness at the onset of the second week. Extended recovery period is probably due to the extensive damage to subject prior to exposure. Of course, no sign of said injuries remain. Strong heartbeat, slower than ideal for someone of her height and body type. Assuming this is a sign of a stronger circulatory system, I estimate circulatory function has increased by at least 30%. Breathing steady, no obstructing abnormalities near the puncture site." Ada switched off the cart and lifted a pen to Jill's eyes, waving it back and forth, watching the STARS member's eyes follow it before pointing it at her, turning on a light built into the head. "No focal abnormalities, irises functioning normally, similar chromatic permutations to the alpha subject do not affect eyesight. Ms. Valentine, please roll over."

Jill did as requested, and felt her gown lift again briefly as Ada continued. "Brief external examination reveals no abnormalities, deformities or mutations after the second week. Lift up," Jill abided by her again, and Ada pulled the pads from under her gown, placing them back on the cart. "Examiner will continue to monitor subject's condition, scheduled musculature examinations to be carried out further in the week." Ada flicked the microphone back behind her ear. "Good to see you awake this time, Ms. Valentine." With that, she wheeled the crash cart back out, the large metal door crashing back into place. The 'examination' was over quicker than it had started. Jill lay back in her 'bed', wondering when her host would actually be needing her assistance.

---

Author's notes:
I think this needs fleshing out badly. It's definitely something I want to come back to.

Now the game's out, the premise of this fic has been confirmed. Now I'll have a bit more to work with when coming up with the next few chapters.