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Through the tears and the pain, the panic of the school's office staff is making everything worse.
"I can't contact her parents. Neither of them is picking up the phone." One of the desk women says, not disguising the nerves in her voice very well. The teacher who came down with her from the playground kneels before her.
"Is there anyone else you can think of to call, Sherry? Anyone who could come get you?"
She hiccups through tears. "My uncle is a police officer."
"What's his name?"
"Albert. He's a star."
"A . . . A star?"
"Yeah."
"Uh, alright. Can you call the police station and see if an Albert works there?"
| | |
The phone on his desk rings once and he picks it up. "Hello?"
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but there's a school calling the station looking for you? A girl at their school needs you, apparently."
"Patch them through."
"Right away, sir."
The line takes a moment, but the call transfers. "Captain Albert Wesker. I hear you're looking for me?"
"Uh, yes! Sorry to bother you, but do you know a child by the name of Sherry Birkin?"
"She's my goddaughter. What's happened?"
"Well, sir, we couldn't reach her parents, and she broke her wrist."
"Hand the phone to Sherry, please."
There's some shuffling, then Sherry's sheepish and tear-addled voice comes on. "I'm sorry, Uncle Albert."
"There's nothing to apologize for, dearheart. I'm going to be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Then I'll take you to the hospital to get it cast and you'll come home with me. Sound good?"
"Yeah." She says, voice small.
"Try not to move your hand. I won't be long."
"Okay."
He hangs up, not even bothering to change as he grabs his keys and leaves. Chris and Barry look up, but only Barry waves as he goes. The drive doesn't take long, even in his personal vehicle, and he parks it out front of the school's main entrance.
Sherry perks up immediately when she sees him, though she's clearly in a lot of pain. The teacher kneeling beside her stands, approaching him.
"I take it you're Captain Wesker?"
"I am."
The teacher's eyes drift to the patch on his shoulder and she chuckles to herself. "Oh, I get it. Sherry said you were a star, but she meant as in the acronym."
"I'm the Captain of the unit, yes." He nods. "Is there any paperwork you require me to sign off on to take her?"
The teacher hesitates, then motions for him to step outside with her. Once the door is between them and Sherry, she sighs heavily. "I'm going to be frank with you, even though it's probably not good for my job security. Mr. and Mrs. Birkin have never answered any call we've had to make home. Luckily those have been minor and we could mostly deal with it on-premises, but I've never so much as seen them, and I'm her homeroom teacher."
He holds in a sigh of his own. "I know. I've been their friend for quite some time, and I could never quite grasp why they had a child they didn't intend to care for."
She deflates in relief at not offending him. "Would you mind leaving your name, number and address as her primary contact? I realize with your line of work, you likely won't always be available, but at least there'll be someone to reach."
"Of course. I'll leave my personal number and my work extension."
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
"Sherry's very dear to me - it's not any trouble."
| | |
Sherry's quiet the whole ride to the hospital and through getting the cast put on. She fidgets as he's driving, but manages to muster her voice before they make it back to the RPD.
"Please don't bring me home." She says, then cringes. "I don't want to be alone."
"That was never my intention." He replies, reaching over and taking her free hand. "I have to report into work that I won't be available for a few days, then you and I are going to my home."
She squeezes his hand back, a desperate kind of relief in the gesture. "Thank you."
"There is nothing to thank me for." He pauses, then decides she needs the reassurance. "I'd do anything for you."
Tears well up in her eyes, but she bites her lip and looks down to hide them. The talk he's going to have with William and Annette the next time he sees them is not going to be pleasant.
He pulls into the underground parking lot, into his designated space, turning off the car. "I'll be right back. I have to notify my team of my absence."
She nods again and he gets out of the car. There's a staircase right near it that leads into the main foyer which remains unlocked, since the garage itself requires a badge scan to get in and out of. He walks briskly up the grand staircase, then into the left hallway. Following it around to the end, there's the STARS office, with the door propped open. Jill is clearly visible at her desk, feet propped up on the far edge of the desk as she reads a report - likely proofreading it for Chris. She spots him out of the corner of her eye and straightens, offering a sheepish wave and a "Hi Wesker!" to alert the rest of the team he's returned. When he enters the office, the entire team is perked up.
"So, what had you leaving in such a hurry?" Barry asks, but it's Chris who barks out a laugh and points behind him.
"I think I can spot it."
He glances behind him to find Sherry, cradling her cast and shrinking under his gaze. She scuffs her shoe, trying to calm her breathing to make it look like she wasn't just rushing after him. "Sorry. You just walk so fast."
"The fault is mine." He kneels, opening up his arms. She runs right into them, relaxing as he hoists her up onto his hip, even though she's a little too big for it. "I thought you would just stay in the car. I should have said."
She nuzzles into his neck shyly. "It's okay."
"Didn't know you had a kid, Captain." Chris smirks.
"I don't." He replies, turning to face them again. "Sherry is my goddaughter. I'm a friend of her family's."
Rebecca coos, getting up and coming over to hover over Sherry's cast. "Oh, sweetie, what happened?"
He nods at her to answer. Sherry smiles sheepishly. "I broke my wrist playing at school. Fell down and hit the asphalt."
Rebecca makes a show of looking over the cast. "Well, it looks like it was fixed up really well. There's one thing it's still missing."
"It's missing something?"
Rebecca steals a marker from Jill's desk, taking the cast and scribbling out a note, signing off with her own name and a heart. Sherry twists it to get a good look, finding Heal up soon, and keep the cast out of water! - Rebecca ❤️
"Thank you." Sherry whispers, eyes tearing up. He knows she doesn't have many friends, and Rebecca's easy friendliness is an unfortunate oddity for her.
"Pass it." Jill says, standing and taking the marker. She also writes a message - You're awesome! - Jill - then holds up the marker. "Who's next?"
Chris shoves Joseph out of the way. "Me!" He writes a very brotherly Get well soon so you can become a STARS member too - Chris. Joseph steals the marker from his hand and shoulders the other man out of the way.
"Dude, your writing is atrocious." Joseph mocks.
"At least mine looks like words." Chris jeers back.
Each member takes a turn writing a message for her, all some flavour of encouraging. Sherry blooms under STARS' attention like a morning glory, with a beaming smile and bright laugh at each increasingly corny joke made by Barry.
He adjusts her on his hip, his arm starting to tire. "I came back to inform you that I'll be home with Sherry for the next few days. At the latest, I'll return on Monday. My home phone number is under my phone in my office, so call me if there's an emergency. Otherwise, until my return, deployments are to be handled by Enrico with Chris leading Alpha."
Chris winks and salutes. "On it, Captain."
Jill snorts. "By that he means he'll go into your office tomorrow with shades on until he realizes he can't read."
He can't help but smirk. "I'm sure he will. I do expect all due reports to be on my desk when I return, in order."
Barry nods. "I'll make sure it gets done."
"Thank you. I'll see you later." He nods, then turns away, walking back down to his car with Sherry still in his arms. The other officers gawk at him out of sheer surprise - he's got a reputation as an unforgiving hardass, only warm to his STARS members - but he ignores them. Even when Irons calls his name, he ignores the fat man completely.
"You have very nice friends." Sherry says once he's started up the car.
"They are." He admits. "I'm very fond of them."
"Can I come back with you again? To see them?"
He considers it. Sooner or later, he'll have to walk STARS to their deaths, and it would not serve him well to have Sherry attached to these people. It's going to be unpleasant enough to have to do it, let alone break it to her too. However . . .
"After all their well-wishes, it would be a shame not to see your healed-up wrist, hmm?"
She beams. "Yes! I have to show them it worked!"
"Once your cast is off, then."
"Thank you, Uncle Albert!"
This decision is going to bite him in the ass, he already knows. But, for all Spencer tried, his heart isn't flinty enough to resist Sherry's doe eyes, nor the warmth in his chest from STARS' reaction to her. He knows it will only end in tragedy, but he can't help but want it to be nice, even just for now.
That evening, once Sherry's in bed in the guest room and has been asleep for a couple hours, he leaves and heads down to the Raccoon lab.
It doesn't take long, not with the bullet train down to the Nest, and his access brings him right into the heart of the lab. He shows himself into the main offices and finds William hunched over a microscope, eyes black-ringed from sleeplessness. Annette looks up, startled. "Albert!"
"What day is it?"
"Pardon?"
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Uh." She thinks hard. "Thursday?"
"It's Tuesday."
"Oh, damn."
"Indeed." He comes to stand near her. "Sherry broke her wrist today, and the school couldn't get a hold of you."
"Oh! Is she okay?"
"I took care of it." He takes off his sunglasses, making her squirm under his unequivocal stare. "I understand the precipice you're at in your research, but Sherry is only ten, Annette. She needs her family, at least to answer the damn phone."
"I know, I know-"
"And yet, you do nothing about it." He frowned. "If you're struggling this much, you should have told me."
"You're not exactly free, either."
"I'm topside."
She sighs. "I don't have time for Sherry. I wish I did, but I just don't."
He scowls this time. "That's not good enough."
"What do you want me to do?" She snaps. "Umbrella's breathing down my neck, and there's no soul alive who can pull Will out of his research."
"Give temporary custody to me, then." He snaps back. "If you won't take responsibility, I'll clean up after you, just like I've always done."
She collapses down onto her chair, scrubbing her face with her hands. She breathes out harshly, then pulls out her keys, pulling her house key off it. "Here. So you can take her stuff."
He takes the key, adding it next to his own. "I'm disappointed in your choice, but she'll be in good hands with me. When I call you tomorrow morning, you will answer, and you'll be the one to tell Sherry she'll live with me for the foreseeable future."
"Okay." She concedes, exhausted. "I'm sorry."
"It is not my forgiveness you must earn." He replies sharply. "Do relay this conversation to William when he surfaces for air. I have an injured child to return too."
"I will."
He spins on his heel and sees himself out. Annette breathes out, hanging her head again.
Sherry took some time to warm up to him entirely, acting like any little misstep would get her sent back to the icy silence of the Birkin house. However, after a few weeks, she started to warm up, snuggling up to him while they watched tv, asking for snacks and eventually for him to make her favourite foods. He was very careful not to raise his voice or give her silent treatment - seeing her vanish back into herself broke his heart. Firm scoldings and explanations for his ire seemed to work best, followed by forgiving hugs where she would cling desperately to him.
After taking Annette's call, she never asked about her parents again. Occasionally, they would surface and bring her home for an evening or two, and she would dilligently go and quietly suffer through it. It was always clear, though, that she was relieved when she was back in her bedroom in his house, her bed always neatly made and her lunch waiting for her every morning. He wasn't always there to see her off to school, but he made a point of being home every night he could, bringing work home with him if necessary.
After six months or so, on her birthday, she comes to the RPD by herself after school, slipping passed the other officers and finding her way to the STARS office.
"You're back!" Chris greets loudly, pushing back from his desk. "How are you doing, kiddo?"
He looks up, surprised to find her standing there in her uniform and beaming up at Chris. "I'm good!"
"Glad to hear it. You here for Wesker?"
She nods primly. "Yup. It's my birthday, and he promised to take me out for dinner."
"Should have known the Captain had a hot date." Brad laughs.
"Dude, gross." Jill punches him in the arm.
Chris valiantly ignores them. "He's really lucky, then. It's been a while since I last saw my sister."
"Aww, why?"
"She lives in another city, going to university." Chris patiently explains. "I pay for her to go, so I don't have a lot of time or money to go see her, or for her to come see me."
"That's sad." She frowns. "Mom and Dad don't see me either."
The office falls silent.
"I'm over here, Sherry." He calls, and she smiles again, running over to him. "You can do your homework over here while I finish up some work, then we'll leave. Do you have a restaurant in mind?"
"Yeah, I do." She dutifully takes off her coat, hanging it on the back of the chair, then getting out her pencil and books.
Chris knocks on the doorframe with a cough. "Captain, can we steal you for a minute?"
"Of course." He stands, closing the door to his office behind him.
"With all due respect," Chris starts, breaking the silence, "but what the fuck."
"My thoughts exactly." He agrees. "Had I known earlier, I would have taken her long ago."
"Did they die?" Jill asks.
"No. They're just neglectful." He tsks. "Well meaning and hard working, but neither of them were ever meant to be parents."
"Bring her around more." Chris implores. "We won't tell Irons if you don't."
He snorts. "I don't care what Brian has to say about anything."
"It'll be good for her to have adults she can rely on." Chris continues. "If you're on a mission or something, at least she'll know she can come here."
"I'll consider it. The RPD is still restricted space, and I don't want her to feel she has free reign."
"Just- Keep it in mind." Chris glances back at the closed office door.
"I gotta ask," Barry says, "was she an accident? A whoopsie-baby?"
"Not exactly. They wanted a child, and have taken good care of her most of her life. They are currently embroiled in a massive project at their company, one that would make or break their careers. I can't bring myself to blame them, but I don't like how Sherry suffers for it."
"Gotcha." Barry leans back in his chair. "You're nicer than I would be about it, though."
"I wouldn't call that particular confrontation 'nice'." He mutters. "Regardless, back to your tasks. I appreciate your concern, but I have the situation in hand."
He returns to his office, shutting the door behind him. With haste, he finishes off the requisition forms he had been working on, as well as signing off on Chris' leave request - Claire is coming down for Spring Break - and okays Barry's half-day off request for his anniversary. There's a little extra bookkeeping in regards to upcoming employment reviews and raises to be sent to accounting, but he only organizes and sets them aside.
"Dearheart."
Sherry looks up, alert and attentive.
"Pack up your things while I go change, hmm? We'll head out shortly."
"Okay!"
| | |
Sherry became somewhat of a staple in the STARS office afterward. Not of his own volition, either. She would bring herself to the station after school, homework in hand, and walk right up to the office as if she was meant to be there. Chris was always overjoyed to see her, and she spent just as much time in his personal office as she did the office at large, often sitting with Chris, Barry, Jill or Rebecca.
This was only going to end in heartbreak, for everyone involved. But every night when he put Sherry to bed, and again the next morning when he left out her lunch, he failed to put a stop to it. He knew Umbrella would have the final say - they always did - but this . . . this was just for him, for now.