All Jill wanted to do was sleep, but she still had so much left to do after everything that had happened. Namely, her hair—still blonde, still too long, and still a reminder of everything that had happened to her. The scar on her chest was a reminder enough, and at least that was something she wouldn’t have to see every time she glanced at herself in a mirror.
Despite the thoughts running through her head, she leaned her head against Chris’ shoulder and closed her eyes. He was a warm, comforting presence and the only reason she’d made it out alive. The entire time she’d been under Wesker’s control her, her mind had been screaming at her and Chris had been the only one that could have saved her—and he and Sheva had.
Jill Valentine did not cry. But the tears stung at her eyes anyway and she refused to let them fall, instead turning closer to Chris and wrapping her arms tightly around his chest, burying her face into him. They both smelled like shit she was sure, but that was the last thing on her mind as she let her shoulders slump, her tense muscles finally relaxing for the first time in god knew how long.
It was more vulnerable than she generally allowed herself to be, but she was far too exhausted to care. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”














