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Description
Warning: Some language

In the year after Kijuju, everything changed.

And I mean, everything.

She was nothing more than a shadow of her former self, but no one really seemed to notice at the office and everywhere else. A mask was worn every day, as if she still was keen on the fight against bioterrorism. Like she wanted to try and go on missions with her partner to find out more information and rid the world of those who wished nothing but ill will on humanity. Almost everyone bought this; I say almost because one person completely saw through this façade.

Chris Redfield just wanted to know why. Why didn't she just tell them all?

It was late at night—around two AM, and Jill was dully flipping through channels on the television without much thought. She didn't here the knocking at the door, settling on the Food Channel and staring at the ice cream dessert being prepared in front of the viewers. The knocking happened again, and she wearily called out, "It's open!"

Opening up a crack, the BSAA agent slipped inside and shut the door behind him quietly. Jill looked up, giving him a small smile and looking back at the TV. Chris walked into the living room, watching the show and hearing her speak. "Looks delicious, doesn't it?"

He nodded, sitting next to her finally and reaching an arm around her. She didn't shy away, looking straight ahead and crossing her legs on the sofa. He was a little unnerved that there wasn't much protest, but that thought was soon pushed into the recesses of his mind. Chris scratched the back of his head and gazed at her for a moment before finally saying something. "Are you okay?"

Jill turned to him, surprised. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just—y'know. Things have been different for a while now between us." God, what the hell am I doing? "I mean we're more than partners and everything, and well… I guess it just hasn't felt like that for a while now. Like you seem different." You're so gonna fuck this up, y'know. "And I just wanted to say I'm worried about you. I have been now for the past fourteen months."

There. He had put it all out in the open.

She just stared at him as if he'd spoken Swahili, and she hadn't understood a word of it. Jill was trying to crawl away into her secluded place, trying to edge away from everything and everyone. She couldn't let them see her mind and what terrible things were going through her brain every day. She curled up a little physically, looking back at the television and the energetic cook. "I'm fine," she told him, a little more forcefully than she would have liked to admit.

He put a hand on her shoulder gently, but she shrugged it off. The agent didn't look surprised, merely tilting his head as she edged away from him a little more. "I'm fine, Chris. Really."

"You're trembling," he murmured, watching her softly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jill closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, forcing herself to not say anything else. If she did, it would only result in more heartache for the both of them. That was the last thing she wanted right then. The mind was activating its defense mechanism: don't let anyone inside. Don't let them see the true colors of a prisoner of a tyrant. She curled up more still, shaking and placing her head on her knees. You're fine, Jill. You're fine. He's only worried… isn't he?

"Jill?"

"You're like everybody else," she muttered.

He didn't say anything for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "What do you mean?"

Jill looked up at Chris now, shaking her head. "No one gets it, Chris. No one fucking understands, okay?! You don't know what it's like to lose faith in everything you've ever fought for!"

"C'mon, Jill."

"No, you listen to me! I see them, Chris! I see them watching me like I'm some sort of… fucking BOW gone wrong and ready to kill them without another thought!" Her voice was bitter, sharp. "Everyone in that office looks at me like- like I'm a goddamn freak of nature! And I don't blame them at all, frankly!" Eyes daggers, she glared at Chris and shook her head. "I bet you think I'm a fucking piece of work now too! Hearing all the gossip they say about me being mentally unstable and unable to do anything in the field! All I'm good with now must be paperwork because I can't hold a gun and NOT see your face, Chris! I CAN'T! And it… it HURTS that I can't be normal again!"

She was breathing heavily by now, curling up once more back into her protective space. Into the place she belonged. And nowhere else.

She felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her. Jill wanted to wrench away, wanted to scream at him to get his hands off. How the hell could he stand to be with a monster like her? So paranoid and so damn worried and…

…so broken down that she couldn't even move away from her partner as he tugged her closer.

God fucking dammit.

Description
Warning: Some language

In the year after Kijuju, everything changed.

And I mean, everything.

She was nothing more than a shadow of her former self, but no one really seemed to notice at the office and everywhere else. A mask was worn every day, as if she still was keen on the fight against bioterrorism. Like she wanted to try and go on missions with her partner to find out more information and rid the world of those who wished nothing but ill will on humanity. Almost everyone bought this; I say almost because one person completely saw through this façade.

Chris Redfield just wanted to know why. Why didn't she just tell them all?

It was late at night—around two AM, and Jill was dully flipping through channels on the television without much thought. She didn't here the knocking at the door, settling on the Food Channel and staring at the ice cream dessert being prepared in front of the viewers. The knocking happened again, and she wearily called out, "It's open!"

Opening up a crack, the BSAA agent slipped inside and shut the door behind him quietly. Jill looked up, giving him a small smile and looking back at the TV. Chris walked into the living room, watching the show and hearing her speak. "Looks delicious, doesn't it?"

He nodded, sitting next to her finally and reaching an arm around her. She didn't shy away, looking straight ahead and crossing her legs on the sofa. He was a little unnerved that there wasn't much protest, but that thought was soon pushed into the recesses of his mind. Chris scratched the back of his head and gazed at her for a moment before finally saying something. "Are you okay?"

Jill turned to him, surprised. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just—y'know. Things have been different for a while now between us." God, what the hell am I doing? "I mean we're more than partners and everything, and well… I guess it just hasn't felt like that for a while now. Like you seem different." You're so gonna fuck this up, y'know. "And I just wanted to say I'm worried about you. I have been now for the past fourteen months."

There. He had put it all out in the open.

She just stared at him as if he'd spoken Swahili, and she hadn't understood a word of it. Jill was trying to crawl away into her secluded place, trying to edge away from everything and everyone. She couldn't let them see her mind and what terrible things were going through her brain every day. She curled up a little physically, looking back at the television and the energetic cook. "I'm fine," she told him, a little more forcefully than she would have liked to admit.

He put a hand on her shoulder gently, but she shrugged it off. The agent didn't look surprised, merely tilting his head as she edged away from him a little more. "I'm fine, Chris. Really."

"You're trembling," he murmured, watching her softly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jill closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, forcing herself to not say anything else. If she did, it would only result in more heartache for the both of them. That was the last thing she wanted right then. The mind was activating its defense mechanism: don't let anyone inside. Don't let them see the true colors of a prisoner of a tyrant. She curled up more still, shaking and placing her head on her knees. You're fine, Jill. You're fine. He's only worried… isn't he?

"Jill?"

"You're like everybody else," she muttered.

He didn't say anything for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "What do you mean?"

Jill looked up at Chris now, shaking her head. "No one gets it, Chris. No one fucking understands, okay?! You don't know what it's like to lose faith in everything you've ever fought for!"

"C'mon, Jill."

"No, you listen to me! I see them, Chris! I see them watching me like I'm some sort of… fucking BOW gone wrong and ready to kill them without another thought!" Her voice was bitter, sharp. "Everyone in that office looks at me like- like I'm a goddamn freak of nature! And I don't blame them at all, frankly!" Eyes daggers, she glared at Chris and shook her head. "I bet you think I'm a fucking piece of work now too! Hearing all the gossip they say about me being mentally unstable and unable to do anything in the field! All I'm good with now must be paperwork because I can't hold a gun and NOT see your face, Chris! I CAN'T! And it… it HURTS that I can't be normal again!"

She was breathing heavily by now, curling up once more back into her protective space. Into the place she belonged. And nowhere else.

She felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her. Jill wanted to wrench away, wanted to scream at him to get his hands off. How the hell could he stand to be with a monster like her? So paranoid and so damn worried and…

…so broken down that she couldn't even move away from her partner as he tugged her closer.

God fucking dammit.