IC Inbox | Carlos Oliveira

[sendinthedelta]

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Carlos Oliveira ⬤ Resident Evil 3 (2020)
residential district ⬤ Level 2
moonblessing ⬤ Sanguis

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[sendinthedelta]

[He knows. Or knew. Deep down that whatever she went through in those years in between couldn't have been all trauma and escaping and surviving. Things had to have gone down to make her this way, to give her that darkness in her eyes that he already hates seeing but knows he can do so little about.

But he gets it. Lord above does he get it. He's done some shady ass shit, too. Even before Umbrella. Guerrilla tactics could be absolutely awful, even inhumane at times. He was a child for so much of it and yet he understood at a very early age that one does what one must to make it to the next day breathing.

And he hated it. A tiny part of him still hated himself for going that route but it wasn't like he had much of a choice.

Most don't, in that situation. And starvation was not fucking pretty.

It's why he forces the jokes so much. Why he looks to humor to cope. He has to believe there's a good day to be had after all the darkness and pain otherwise he would just start screaming and never ever stop.]

I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't, Jill.

[torsion]

[ The difference was that Jill knew. It was there, rattling her as she couldn't fight back. It enveloped her and all she could do was let it happen. Things that he did and so much worse. Jill wasn't tricked, she wasn't told other things than what she represented. She was there and couldn't fight back. All she could do was accept the atrocities.

It's too difficult to talk about now and will be the same in the future. She knows she'll have to fight it and that it will hurt to talk about. But she also knows that she has no other choice and that he deserves to know what she did. That they were now on even footing at best, even yet what she did was worse than what he did even when he thought he was helping. She was worse than a pawn. ]

I don't know about that. You at least thought you were doing good. I knew what I was doing. I just... I couldn't fight back.

[sendinthedelta]

You didn't chase me away before and I'm not about to start running now.

[He'll shoulder it if he has to. He'll help carry her guilt if that's what it takes. Regardless of how it happened, what she believe or didn't believe, he wasn't there to help her then so all he can do is be here now.

They were partners of circumstance but that didn't just end because she stepped off a helicopter and went her own way.

His next words are soft, cautious and gentle. She can refuse if she needs to, regroup and talk about it another time, or she can get it out in the open now if that's what she needs to do for her own sanity.]

I can come over now.

[torsion]

[ She wants to challenge him, ask if he shouldn't have went the other way, but she finds herself silent. She may have the fight in her otherwise, but that she doesn't have it for him makes her feel weak and broken. Something she knew she was now, but she didn't want to admit to. Everything that happened over the past several years piled high, and dug in. Claws into skin, tearing. Rending asunder. Too sharp.

He wasn't just anyone, though. And it hurt her to feel like she was lying even if it was only withholding information. She knew it was one and the same. But she finds that he words escape her. She reaches for them and they dissipate before she can grasp them. ]

...if you'd like. You may not like what you end up hearing.

[ It could break things. And Jill doesn't want that when it already feels like they're on a fragile string between the two of them. What is she meant to do?

Just like what happened, all she can do is let it wash over her. Accept it. ]

[sendinthedelta]

That hasn't stopped me yet.

[Back at the very beginning, when his platoon had been decimated by the undead, when he was desperately searching for survivors so someone, anyone could be spared and they had found one another in the thick of it she had berated him for being a part of Umbrella. "They're the ones that caused all of this!" she had practically spat.

At the time he denied any knowledge because he didn't have any but still insisted on sticking with her despite the cold shoulder. Later a poor CRT monitor suffered his momentary wrath for learning the truth of it all. Through it all he kept going because he knew the two of them were just trying their damndest to help regardless of what had brought them together.

Unless she was straight up murdering in cold blood without remorse or guilt - both she seemed to be feeling in spades right now - it would take a hell of a lot more for him to actively hate her.]

Maybe I won't, but I'm not some asshole who cuts and runs at the slightest sign of something bad.

[You know that, an unspoken thought. She doesn't need admonishment right now.]

[torsion]

[ It isn't the same, she thinks. Nothing they had been through had led them on a path to this. What she was, what happened to her... it felt like a lie, even if she fought against it. It wasn't right. But her she was, fighting for the both of them. It dug in and tore her apart. It felt like she was in shreds, begging to be picked up only to be admonished for decisions worse than what she had assumed of him. She was nothing more than a prop an it made her angry. She wanted to fight it, but she knew the facts.

The facts told her what happened and who she was. What she had done. Who was she to fight back when she knew the reality of it all? It was weak. Her body was fallible and not an instrument of justice let alone her own content. It wasn't for her anymore and she could turn again at any time. She doesn't doubt Wesker is capable of it. So, at the very least, she owed him an explanation in case it all happened again. That's why, of course. ]

I know you aren't. If only it were so simple. I'll wait for you. I'm not going anywhere.

[ Though every part of her feels aflame. Like she should run and hide and avoid all of this, that the shame will drag her under and leave nothing. But here she is. Waiting still. Sitting. Knowing he'll be here soon enough. ]

[sendinthedelta]

I'll be there.

[That's all he gives, but it's stern and assured. He will be there.

He won't invade her space entirely just yet. An overnight bag, a small bottle of halfway decent whiskey that he'd grabbed recently, unopened as of right now. They'll need it later, he feels. He can deal with the rest of his crap later.

Duffle hanging off his shoulder, clothes casual and plain, hair marginally more brushed than the last time she saw him he knocks on her door within a half an hour of hanging up.]

[torsion]

[ She doesn't expect it to be so easy. Like this was already planned from the get-go. She doesn't know what he wants -- doesn't expect he really wants anything, even though he's considered staying with her and Leon permanently, and she hangs up feeling her nerves prickle like sharp spikes.

She is dressed similarly as the last time, like she's ready to go to the gym and put the time in, ponytail up and body pushed in with compression gear. But she still looks strong, her stomach muscles on display and perhaps the sort that some may be envious of. Unlike his offer at his own home, she not only steps aside but ushers him in beyond the foyer. It's an unspoken invitation that Jill knows she should give more to form, but she isn't sure how to make it more comfortable.

The kitchen, first. Plain and empty without much decoration beyond a photograph of STARS on the fridge. It's lived-in, at least. ]

...can I get you anything?

[ Something to drag on the niceties and ignore the rough reality of things. ]

[sendinthedelta]

[He takes the wordless invitation gratefully. Maybe if their conversation hadn't turned heavy she would have teased him with keeping him out temporarily as a reminder of their reunion, but this wasn't the time.

She leads him to the kitchen and his eyes fall on the photo, saying nothing of it but lingering all the same. He saw it in the ruined police station. Studied it in some vain hope that maybe he could help her remember faces that were gone. Almost impossible to do with a still image of strangers he had never before met.

It felt like a lifetime ago.]

Water is fine right now.

[He discards his bag, making sure to keep it out of any obvious walkways.]

[torsion]

[ She might have. It's hard not to do that and she wants nothing more for it to be simple, comfortable, and easy between them. After all they'd been through, they at least deserved to smile and laugh about things and be themselves. She wishes she could discard the struggle and hurt for them. ]

You sure? Water, it is. [ She pulls a highball glass out of the cupboards and fills it with water and two ice cubes, without asking if he wanted them. It's her own standard preference that she gives him. Her smile is taut but earnest when she offers it to him, standing a little too close. ] Down the hall to the left is where I train -- the gym. The right is the weapons room. At the end you'll find a few empty rooms and myself and Leon's rooms. Just knock before you come into mine. You can take whatever you want.

[ Not just because it's empty but because she wanted him to. ]

Don't really have any rules. If you bring someone back just let me know so I can take off for a while. Otherwise, welcome home. I'm glad to have you here, Carlos.

[ But she knows she's stalling. And knows he's aware of it, too. That she has more to say and she fears saying it. ]

[sendinthedelta]

Yeah, it's fine for now.

[He would have a chance to raid whatever was in the fridge later. There were more important things even if she was trying to play host to avoid said important things.

He takes the glass with a thankful nod and does drink a bit of it, not quite guzzling but definitely thirstier than he originally thought he was.

And not just for what's right in front of him.]

Glad to be here.

[He rose the glass in a mock toast, smiling back in a way that he hopes is reassuring. They can only stall for so long. He places a hand on her upper arm, gentle but solid enough to show her he was present and not going anywhere.]

Let's talk, okay?

[torsion]

[ He nailed it. Funny how a difficult experience can temper you to the hidden parts of others. Jill lifts her hand to her forehead, lightly pulling back her fringe; it falls right back in place, but it's an idle gesture that gives her the brief satisfaction of feeling like she's avoided something.

His touch draws her back in and for a second, she warmly gazes at his hand on her. Different than before, but not without similarities. It feels the same. It doesn't quite bring her back to his arms around her, but there's a certain feeling of shielding. Wesker and the outside world melts away for the moment. ]

There's a lot to say. [ Still stalling in her own way, but she hasn't thought of where to begin. So, she shrugs him off -- harsher than she means to -- and grabs herself a highball glass and some whiskey off the counter. She takes both to the kitchen table and pours herself a glass. ] The past four years or do you want me to go back to ninety-eight?

[sendinthedelta]

[He expects being shrugged off. He knows it's uncomfortable, that she's uncomfortable with whatever happened in those years he never got to experience. It's difficult, painful, a slew of negative words that could barely accurately describe what she must be going through. Their time together originally was so short but they learned so much about each other in that brief frame that even her smaller movements betray so much about how she's struggling.

But it also betrays something else: that she wants him to know, no matter how hard it is to get out. She needs time and patience and understanding and knows that Carlos is the best one to give it.

He doesn't blanche at being brushed away roughly, only steps back to give her the physical space she needs.]

Four years, but if you want to tell the rest I'll leave that up to you.

[Smallest time frame, might be a little easier to tear off and give him.]

[torsion]

[ It's funny how a few days can give you more of a person than years, sometimes. What they had was solid and couldn't be broken, regardless of time. Not just because he saved her. She was so quick to judge and hold herself responsible, take care of herself and avoid him, but it meant something more before she was even able to realize it. She could name the people she trusted on two hands -- and he's on the first, the small and above all.

She hates that she knows he gets her. That he can likely see every trick of the trade to avoid what flays her alive and digs in, deep past muscle and sinew and into the marrow. After taking a seat she's silent and she hesitates, trying to wrap her head around the words. ]

I've told you about the BSAA. We found Oswell E. Spencer, Umbrella's founder. Tipped off about him. So Chris and I went to storm his mansion and bring him out so he could pay for his crimes. It... we were met with blood and dead bodies. Spencer's bodyguards, I believe. The basement was a torture chamber; there were people -- once people -- still alive, twitching, not even cognizant of it all.

[ It affects her, but not as much as it should. She's so used to it by now. She throws back a much too large gulp, knowing what is approaching. What she struggles to talk about. What she knows is true. ]

Wesker was waiting for us. He killed Spencer and we tried to fight him, but the virus in him... he's too fast. Too strong. We couldn't even get in a hit. He was dragging Chris around, there was blood seeping through his flack jacket, it -- [ She pauses and wipes at her eyes, kneads at them like she needs to see stars and power through it all. ] So I rushed him while he was attacking Chris, wrapped my arms around him. Out a window, off a cliff. I barely recall hitting the water below. Just... it was dark. I woke up on an operating table. Then he put me in cryostasis. Then it was... an experimental serum. He'd inject me and I couldn't control my own body. He ordered me to do unspeakable things for years and all the while I was in my own mind, watching myself do these... these things. I just... I just wanted to die.

[ It's a hard confession, but even as Chris tried to save her, that had been all she'd thought. All she'd wanted. She wanted him to kill her, to end it all. To feel that inky blackness she'd felt when she'd hit the water. ]

[sendinthedelta]

[He had stayed standing though near-by as she began her explanation, but by the end of it he had taken the other seat and had long forgotten about his water, expression taut and distressed, hands over his mouth as he stared at the far wall with an almost vacant expression. Memories were swimming in his mind, the disgusting foul grins of men in power who, like Nikolai had said, "let the world burn" for the right price.

There was a man running around Lunatia with the virus inside him, powered by it in a way that was terrifying and yet somehow not mutated by it. It made his chest tight, his fingers shake.

He didn't blame Jill for any of it, obviously. Why would he? Spencer was the original progenitor of the entire situation and Wesker had just taken the proverbial torch, beaten Spencer with it and ran off to make life hell for everyone else for... whatever fucking reason was rattling around in that clearly not-okay head of his.

At the end of it he let out a sigh, a muttered swear in a different language before blinking away any blurriness from his eyes so he can look at her clearly. He wanted to hold her. Even just touch her hand so she knew he wasn't angry or upset with her. But the way she had brushed him off earlier, maybe he shouldn't...]

I... I can't say I blame you. For feeling that way. I think I would, too. I'm glad you're here but-- shit. I can't... I can't even imagine what that must have been like.

[torsion]

[ It's a lot to take in, which is why she tried to condense it. It was better to get it all out and not embellish; important details only. To the point, as best as she could offer to him.

He hadn't been in the game as long as she had at this point, but she knew he understood these people. He, too, had been affected by their hubris and selfishness; their greed, their desire for something more, regardless of the cost.

Jill puts her had on her chest and carefully dips the fabric of her t-shirt to offer a view of the swell of her breasts. The scar was healing, but it was clear there was burn damage and something that spread around in a circle, digging into her skin, twisting it. ]

Wesker put a device on me because the serum would go through the blood too quickly and burn itself out. This way it pumped straight into me. Chris... removed it. He put down his weapons, but not before I broke a few ribs and likely concussed him. [ Those details are important. It made sure he understood just how powerful it was, how hard it was to fight back. She lets her shirt go and it falls to a normal shape, not quite showing off what happened. ] I made him leave me behind. He had to stop Wesker and I was in no condition to follow. I passed out and was found by another BSAA member. Before coming here I was hit by the brunt of a rocket launcher blast. I blacked out and was here, though I've been told I made it out alive it's hard to believe that's true.

[ It's all direct and matter-of-fact. Lacking emotion, though not cold. It all happened and there' not much she can do about it. Her hands find her glass, but she doesn't drink. It's all a distraction. ]

...sorry I didn't tell you any of this sooner. It's just. It... I don't know how to talk about any of this. And I'm fine now, so it shouldn't affect me.

[sendinthedelta]

[At least one thing makes sense now - how Jill had been rendered unconscious by the infection Nemesis literally injected into her but still managed to fight it off long enough for him to get the vaccine that ultimately saved her. She had a natural resistance. Maybe he did, too, given how often he got chewed on but never turned.

But to use that boon against her...

He didn't know this man from Bob but boy if he ever met Wesker face to face no amount of T-Virus running through his veins was going to keep Carlos from slamming him into the nearest wall and wailing until he was exhausted. Might get him killed. Still be worth it.]

You're a survivor. You always have been.

[It's all he can bring himself to say, and even as the words leave him he realizes there's an emotionless flatness about his tone as well.]

You don't have to apologize for that.

[torsion]

[ Jill hadn't quite understood it at the time, but she knew that the virus itself had adapted within her and only added to her abilities of immunity. She still owed him for staying with her through all of it, especially when he wasn't sure which side to trust. He still had stayed with her, carried her off to safety and then risked his life for the experimental antivirus. It wasn't about owing, even. It wasn't a trade-off anymore. The bond they had now transcended universes and different versions of themselves and the past and the future. ]

Always been tenacious as hell, that's for sure.

[ Jill circles her index finger around the rim of her glass, staring into the golden liquid as if willing it to silence the world around them. It's too quiet already, though. Like the walls have closed in and it's just the two of them and Jill finds herself uncertain of this all. Not quite like he's a stranger, but as if she knows him too well. She lifts the glass to her mouth and speaks quietly after taking a hearty drink. ]

I'm still overwhelmed some days. I can eat what I want, dress how I want -- no more of that goddamn battlesuit clinging to every part of my skin now -- and I can take a damn hot shower. It feels so foreign sometimes and I just... choke. [ Jill has never been the type to be vulnerable or show anything beyond subtlety when it comes to what she's thinking or feeling; she closes herself off and keeps people at an arm's length, not wanting the attention. She doesn't know anymore. ] I've never lived a normal life and now that it's all here, pulling me in, I'm not even sure I know how to deal with it. There are some friendly faces here, but you're the first person I've been close to that's shown up. I just want you to know how grateful I am to see you, even if you're... different. You're still the same man I knew. I think, anyway.

[ It's not easy for her and it shows in how her brow furrows and she seems visibly uncomfortable saying these things, like she worries that by saying these things she'll lose what's most precious to her. Like acknowledgement is a curse. ]

[sendinthedelta]

[He can tell. He would have offered her a hug if he wasn't relatively certain that the last thing she wanted after being that open and vulnerable with him was pity, even perceived pity.

He didn't pity her, though. Far from it. He was angry that she was subjected to such hells just because of her proximity to Umbrella via the Spencer Mansion incident. Because of Wesker. She had suffered plenty before Racoon City and during yet those disgusting monsters in human skin at the very top valued paper over human lives but rather than seeing her as expendable they saw her as another experiment to poke and prod at.

It was nauseating.]

I think even if everything doesn't line up, we're still... us. Everything I've seen about you so far is still the same Jill I met back then. Physical changes don't really mean shit when we went through basically the same hell.

[He sighs, putting his hands on the counter and folding them for lack of anything better to do.]

I can't bring back 'normal' for you, Supercop. Even if I wanted to I don't think there's any way to, after all that. The best I can do is be here when you need me.

[torsion]

[ Another time, maybe. It isn't an unappealing idea, but she's stubborn and stuck in her ways. For now, distance feels safer and less ill-defined; it has walls that are absolute.

Besides that, time would hand her more clarity and she could always use that in her personal relationships. ]

Yeah? I feel the same. You've still got a good and generous heart. Too welcoming for your own good. [ Even if he hid behind flirting or pretending to be normal, she couldn't fault him for that. Not only because she did the same, but because she knows what he went through before Umbrella. ] I didn't like you at first, but it was easy to learn to trust you. I can't really say that for anyone else.

[ How much does he know about her past, about the mansion incident, about anything, really? The question lingers between them, but it doesn't factor in to her affection for him. ]

No, I agree. I wouldn't even know what normal is. [ Tentatively, she leans over the table and slides her hand forward. Her fingertips splay over his, curve over his knuckles. ] I've still got your six. You're still one of the few important ones in my life.

[sendinthedelta]

[He knows. It can be frustrating on his end but he has a shocking amount of patience and is always willing to wait for her to come to him about these things. He knows better than to force someone with her temperament to talk when she doesn't want to. It's not about wearing her down, but letting her meet her own needs at her pace.

He is glad that she doesn't pull away, though, and in fact returns some of that small but meaningful affection.

He gives her a smile at her words as well, worry still needling in his features. He's going to be concerned about her. There's just no way out of that.]

Same. I'm gonna be here no matter what, okay? Whatever you need, just call on me.

[torsion]

[ In some ways, she's gotten better with communication. In others, she remains the same or it is just as cloaked, kept beneath layers of uncertainty and pin pricks of normalcy. When you involve intimacy in your relationships, it complicates things. It makes loss that much harder; it damages you more when things go awry. Gouges, making the bones brittle and crack rather than a scratch on the surface of the skin. Sometimes visible, sometimes not. But the chance of that loss is hard to weigh out and consider as worthy, even in regard to people she is definitely close to like Chris or Barry. It's a delicate balancing act and one she has her own scale for.

It hasn't been working as well as she'd like it to so far. It isn't on her side, she thinks.

But she manages to let the scale tip a little more in one direction, with the warmth of contact. It spirals up in wisps from moonlacing, making it feel nearly addictive, but it's hardly all that she feels. In his case were the magic of Lunatia removed it would still offer something with more depth. The tips of her middle and forefinger shift in small, kneading movement. Not quite a massage with how it lacks in generosity, but it's nearly there. ]

I'm glad that's out of the way. [ It does seem to take a weight off her shoulders, nearly literal in the way she leans back more than slouches despite needing to scoot the chair inward for a better reach. ] Anything else you might want to know, I can cover for you. But now you know what the past four years have been for me. I'm still sorry if I'm... [ Her fingers move like a phantom, so minuscule it might not be noticeable. Like she means to pull away just thinking about this, but manages to catch herself. ] Distant. I've never been the type to express my feelings openly, at least not the ones that matter.

[ Because she's good at wearing the mask and being distant by pulling people closer. It's one of her greatest skills and it's become useful following Raccoon City.

Her thumb makes small crescents near his wrist. ]

But you've come from dealing with a lot. It wasn't easy getting out of Raccoon City and there's not much to say about it, is there? But if you want to talk about it or... anything that might have been different, I don't know. That sort of thing. We can.