Work Text:
"Albert... please."
"No. You had your chance to run. This is it for you."
He grabs you by the throat, lifting you into the air. Your last breath is going to be stolen from a man you once called a friend. A man that was once your lover.
Grasping at his wrists, tears streaming down your face, you can feel your head getting fuzzy.
For a brief moment, there's a look in his eyes that says that he might let go, a smaller glimmer of the love he has for you.
You pass out believing that you are dead, believing that he did not love you anymore.
A long time had passed since the days of S.T.A.R.S. The BSAA had been set on finding Wesker and anything left of Umbrella. After all of the pain he had caused, he needed to be stopped. Chris, Jill, and yourself had been looking for him for quite some time. You tried not to get too involved, knowing it would only cause you pain.
When you had met Wesker, you thought he didn't like you. Wesker was someone that always came off as cold and uncaring, but somewhere deep down he did have a heart. He rarely showed it, knowing that people would only see it as a way to exploit him. It didn't take very long after your first day at S.T.A.R.S. for Wesker to make a move on you. Looking back on it now, you are surprised he even did. He couldn't help himself. There was something about you that made him bend his own rules. He chose not to see anyone, knowing he wouldn't have time anyway with half of his time being dedicated by Umbrella and the other half dedicated to S.T.A.R.S. Caring for someone other than himself also gave himself another weakness, which he couldn't afford. Which is exactly why he suggested to keep it casual between you both. Something mutually beneficial. You knew it was a bad idea, that things like this only go wrong, but you agreed anyway. Wesker was attractive and you were lonely. What you didn't expect is just how much you would end up feeling for him, and just how much he would end up hurting you.
Everyone had suspected something was going on between you and the captain, but no one had any proof. Wesker didn't want anyone to know. Neither did you, honestly. It was bad enough that you were fucking your boss, it would have been much worse if everyone knew as well. They caught glimpses of conversations that seemed too personal for work, or small arguments that should have never even happened in the workplace. They never saw you two touch. That was kept only for in private. Whatever the team saw had only scratched the surface.
You couldn't call whatever was going on between you and Wesker a relationship. It had never progressed passed casual sex. There was no commitment between you two, at least not vocally. Wesker knew you were fully committed to him, but he was committed to Umbrella. He couldn't let go of that. He knew that if you were in a relationship, you would inevitably find out about his involvement with Umbrella. You were smart enough to figure it out, but he didn't want to risk that. Not that soon at least.
It eventually came out anyway. You were there when the Arklay Mansion incident happened. Wesker had tried to make you stay at the station, but he knew it would draw even more red flags if he had forced you to. You wished you had stayed.
For months after, you had felt like Wesker had played you. It felt like you were just some part of his bigger plan. That's why he would never commit, he didn't truly care about you. You were just a means to an end. You still felt like somewhere down the line, you and him were friends. Nonetheless, the betrayal of the entirety of S.T.A.R.S. weighed heavily on you. He had betrayed everyone, people that thought they were his friends. You went to his memorial. Even though he had betrayed everyone, you still cared about him. He was dead. Or so you thought.
After Chris went to Europe, you quit police work altogether. It felt hard to trust anyone in Racoon City anymore. You didn't trust most of the people at the police station anymore, so the only option was to leave. It was then that you decided that moving out of the country might be a good idea. Amsterdam had always been a dream of yours, so why not make it a reality now. It was good you had left when you did, you just wish some of the others had left at the same time as you. Seeing what they had done to Racoon City a month after you had left had left an even bigger hole in your heart.
It took a little while to get fully acclimated in Amsterdam. It took a lot of time to attempt to heal the mental wounds Racoon City had left on you. You had cut contact with everyone from there. You had wanted to get your life back on track instead of dwelling on the past. The destruction of Racoon City was what made Amsterdam permanent. Chris and Jill were the only ones that knew you were there. Although you had cut contact with them for the sake of your mental health, you still sent them updates once in a while and vice versa. That's how you found out that Wesker was alive. It had hit you head on when you read the email from Chris. You didn't leave your house for almost a week. The same
man whose memorial you had went to was alive this entire time. You had mourned someone who wasn't even really dead.
It had been almost 10 years since you had stepped foot in Racoon City when he showed up.
It was no shock how he found you. Wesker might have been one of the most intelligent people you knew. He knew this was your dream. He knew you all too well.
It was almost 3 am when he showed up. You had just fallen asleep. It was never easy to sleep after everything that had happened. Your house alarm was what woke you up. Just as soon as it had started, it had stopped. Still groggy from sleep, you weren't even fully sure if you had actually heard it or if was just a hallucination. Nonetheless, you reached for the gun tucked under your bed frame, just in case someone did decide to break in. Even though you had quit police work, you still tried to keep up with the training you were doing before your departure, just in case. Still in sleep shorts and a shirt, you stood behind the door and listened to see if you could hear anyone rummaging around your stuff. When no noises came, you slowly opened the door, trying to make the least amount of sound possible. You slowly walked out of the bedroom, making your way to the living room, gun still at the ready. Coming around the corner, your heart sank.
There was no way he was here.
Standing at the fireplace, Wesker observed the framed pictures on the mantle. Some were of family or friends. There was one of the entirety of S.T.A.R.S. The one that caught his eye was one of you and him, one you had taken a few days prior to the mansion incident. You both looked happy. Wesker didn't want to take a photo, telling you that it was stupid and we were sure to get caught if you carried it around, but after badgering him for so long about it, he gave in. What you didn't know was that Wesker took that photo with him everywhere, even to this day. He picked up the frame and continued to look at it.
"Albert," you whispered. He didn't turn around, but you knew he heard you.
He looked different, but also the same. He looked slightly taller and more muscular, but he also still looked like the same person he was 10 years ago. The differences were so small that you're not sure Chris or Jill would even recognize them.
"You need to leave," you said when he still hadn't turned to face you.
After almost another minute of silence, he turned around. You didn't expect the pit in your stomach to grow bigger. He had to have known how much this was hurting you.
"You look good," he said with a slight smirk on his face. "You have really built a life for yourself here."
There was a pain in your heart that only he could cause. He was tearing open a wound that you had long worked to heal. All it took was a few words for it all to come crashing down again like it had so many years ago. Sadness and fear plagued your heart, but so did the love you once felt for him.
"Are you going to kill me?" you whispered.
His lip quirked up. He thought this was funny. Of course he did.
He turned back around to put the photo back on the mantle. "No."
You felt some weight lifted off of you. You walked towards him slowly, afraid that at any moment he would change his mind. You had seen what he had done to others, you weren't so sure you could even trust his word anymore. You stopped about a foot away from him.
"Albert, why are you here?"
This was all starting to feel like a dream. A nightmare really. He kept looking at the photo of you and him.
"I am not sure," he whispered. It wasn't like him to do something on a whim. You knew he had a reason to be here. But you also know he isn't good at talking about his feelings.
He touched the photo frame one last time before turning. "Why did you keep this?"
He could read you like a book. You didn't need to answer, he already knew the real reason. It was like he still knew everything about you, like it had only been a few days since you had last seen him instead of a few years. He reached towards your wrist. You knew that you shouldn't let him touch you, but your heart craved his touch. The same hands that had caused so much destruction. You couldn't find it within yourself to make him stop.
"I have found myself wanting to see you every day since our last," he said. This was new for him to be so vulnerable. "I have missed you," he whispered. You could see the fear of rejection present in his eyes. Something was wrong. This wasn't the same person you had known all those years ago. This was someone who was pleading with you to see him. He had never once admitted to missing you before, so why now?
He rubbed his thumb over your wrist. You're sure he can feel how fast your heart is beating.
"Come with me."
Those three words had shattered you. If he would have asked years ago, before his betrayal, you would've gone anywhere with him. But now, you aren't sure you know who he is.
Albert was never emotionally vulnerable; he kept his deepest feelings close to him. You weren't even in an official relationship with him. Your feelings were real the whole time, he knew this. But never once did he admit to his own. Not until now. But is it too late?
You turn around, making him drop your wrist. It's getting hard to hold in your tears.
"You can't do this." Your voice is soft. You know tears are about to fall. It feels like the same heart break he had caused with his betrayal.
He puts his hand on your shoulder. He turns you around so he can see you. He brings his hands up to wipe the tears from your eyes, tugging at the strings that you thought had long ago been severed. You lean into him. Your heart is begging for him, but your brain is telling you to run. Your brain is losing this battle. Your lips touch his in what your brain deems a moment of weakness. His lips are surprisingly soft. He brings his hand to cup your head, your hands reaching towards his perfect hair. It feels like all of your pent-up emotions are being released into this singular kiss. The kiss gets more heated, both of you having waited so long to feel each other again, even when your brain is telling you it is wrong.
His hands move down to your hips, grasping hard as if to make sure you were actually there. He reaches down further past your ass to lift you. Your brain is screaming for him to put you down, that he is only going to leave you a heartbroken mess, but you don't care anymore. He lifts you with ease, carrying you towards your bedroom, his lips not leaving you once.
He sets you down softly on the bed, reaching to take off his jacket and shirt. He removes his sunglasses, knowing you can’t see his eyes in this lighting. He’s sure all of this would stop if you got one real good look at him.
He definitely was more muscular than before. He looked so different, yet still the same. He throws his clothes on the floor, then reaches for your own shirt. His fingers trail your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your body feels like it is on fire. He pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it towards his own clothes. He leans down to kiss you again, letting his hands map out your body once again. It's as if he is relearning all the curves to your body.
You wrap your legs around his waist, hands tangling in his hair once again. He breaks away to kiss at your neck, gently sucking and biting. You reach down towards his belt, attempting to loosen it, but ultimately failing when he bites down harder than you expect. You let out a soft moan at this, causing him to sit up.
"I didn't think I would ever hear that again," he says with a smirk on his face, "don't hold back on me."
He takes off his belt for you, adjusting to pull his pants off. He is immediately back on you, kissing down your stomach. His hands grasp at your exposed thighs, kneading the skin. He leaves a kiss on each thigh before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and panties. He pulls them down slowly, watching your every reaction. You whine at how slowly he's moving. He throws them with the rest of the clothes in the room without looking away once.
He leaves a kiss on your inner thighs, spreading them slowly and lightly blowing air on your folds.
"Albert, please," you whine. Your body is begging for him to do anything. You'll take anything he is willing to give you at this point.
He chuckles slightly. "Only because you asked so nicely."
He kisses your clit before bringing his tongue out to lick slowly through your folds. It seems to possess him because after one taste he can't hold back anymore. His tongue swirls through your aching folds, getting wetter at every movement from him. You reach down to tangle your hands in his hair, messing up his pristine hair style. You grind yourself into his face, feeling yourself get closer. He grabs at your thighs hard likely leaving bruises for you to discover in the morning. He can tell you are getting close by how hard you are pulling his hair. He groans into you, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge. One of his fingers prods at your weeping hole, pushing in half way only for him to pull it back out. By now you’re a whining mess, begging him for more, but he wants to savor this for as long as possible.
He pulls away from your pussy, replacing his tongue with his fingers rubbing over your clit. He looks up at you, seeing your head snap up at the loss of his tongue. He rubs slower, making you whine a plead more, before stopping all together.
"Your first orgasm of the night is going to be on my cock," he says as he leans back down to kiss you.
You grab at his back, his neck, anywhere you can get your hands on. You are desperate to feel him after all these years. You reach for his boxers, pulling them down as far as you can in this position. You reach for his cock, rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip. He groans into the kiss, biting down onto your lip. He releases your mouth to help you get his boxers all the way off. He leans back down to suck at your neck, seeing the marks he had already left. You twist his cock slowly, trying to tease him the same way he had to you,
but you aren't sure you will be able to wait.
He reaches down to your hand to stop you, grabbing his cock and sliding it against your clit. You're so wet that it glides across with ease. He repeats this a few times before letting it slip down to your aching hole. He slides the tip inside and leaves it, sitting up on his knees. It takes everything in him not to slam into you and fuck you into oblivion, but he wants to savor this. He needs to feel everything. It had been too long.
"You feel so good," he says with a strained voice. He continues to push inside, feeling you squeeze him like a vice with each inch. Once he is fully seated inside you, he leans back down to suck on one of your nipples. You let out soft moans while you adjust to his length. He switches to your other breast, letting his hand knead the other, pinching at your nipple. He feels you clamp down hard.
Deciding he had waited long enough, he moves up to kiss you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming back in. You moan into his mouth. He sets a fast pace, trying to make up for lost time. Your nails grip into his back, causing him to let out a moan, only adding to the wetness that he had already created. It gets hard to kiss him, your mouths not being able to keep up with each other with the pleasure you're both feeling. He leans up slightly to look in your eyes, finding the love he had once felt from you. Your hands grab at his shoulders, holding on tight as if to not lose him. His hand comes down to rub at your clit. He knows he is close; he can feel you are too from how tight your walls are gripping him.
"Please cum for me," he begs. You've never heard him beg for anything in his life.
Your body shakes at his words, just hearing him bringing you over the edge. You squeeze him in ripples, nails digging into his shoulders. Feeling your walls squeeze him cause him to let go, pouring himself into you. You are both spent, left panting with him on top of you. He leans down to kiss you again, silencing the fight between your brain and heart. You had decided to let your heart win for the night.
He pulls himself out slowly, his cum dribbling out of you. He gets up and runs to the bathroom quickly to get something to clean you up. He comes back with water and a warm wash cloth, helping you sit up. He wipes you down softly, making sure not to cause you anymore overstimulation. He makes sure you drink enough water before taking a sip himself and setting it down on the nightstand next to your bed.
He gets into bed next to you, pulling the blankets over you both. He wraps himself around you, the feeling of his bare skin on yours bringing warmth to your heart.
"Albert," you whisper, not sure what you want to say, but knowing that a discussion needed to be had.
He pushes your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your neck.
"Shh. Just sleep. We can talk in the morning."
He wraps his arms around you tighter. Your brain is quiet, shutting down all the questions and anxiety about what is next. It is quiet for a while before you fall asleep.
"I still love you. I never stopped."
There was no discussion in the morning. He was gone. No note, no message. You waited days to see if he would come back. He never did. A month later, you got a call from Chris explaining what had happened to Jill. You didn't believe she was dead. You wanted to find her, but more importantly you wanted to find Wesker. He had done all of that before showing up at your home. You didn't tell Chris that you had seen him, but you did tell him that you would help him in any way possible. For the next three years you looked for any kind of lead on him, most of them coming up short. It wasn't until Africa that you had found something that had actually led to him.
Chris, Sheva, and yourself had found Jill and Wesker. Wesker tried to avoid attacking you personally, but that didn't stop Jill. You were already weak from her hits when you
had attacked him.
He knocks you to the ground, causing the air to rush from your lungs. He drags you toward him, lifting you by the throat, crushing your windpipe.
"Albert... please."
"No. You had your chance to run. This is it for you."
Your last breath is going to be stolen from a man you once called a friend. A man that was once your lover.
Grasping at his wrists, tears streaming down your face, you can feel your head getting fuzzy.
For a brief moment, there's a look in his eyes that says that he might let go, a smaller glimmer of the love he has for you.
You pass out believing that you are dead, believing that he did not love you anymore.
You wake up on the helicopter with Jill next to you. Everyone is silent. Your head is pounding. Jill hands you water, allowing you to sit up from where you were laying on her lap. You can feel how bruised your neck is and how hard it is to breathe.
The memories of what had happened prior to you passing out come rushing back. It hurts your heart to even think of him, to think of that night. How you believed that all of those whispered promises of love might have been a lie.
He could have killed you, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, not when he still loved you. He never lied, but he couldn’t stay either. It takes a while for you to realize this.
"Where is he?" You attempt to force the words out, but it hurts so badly.
Chris and Jill look at each other for a moment. Neither of them spoke, but you could tell what had happened. You could see it in Chris' eyes. Wesker was gone.