Chrisker One-Shots

To the ghost that haunts me the most

Summary:

Chris and his never ending sadness.

It's one of those nights again where he's drinking himself into oblivion, Today's the day, the day where he had ended it all. Maybe he had become a sentimental fool seeing how he even marked the day with a red marker pen.

Death anniversaries were never been Chris' forte even after he had experienced countless deaths over the last decade he still couldn't find himself to be use to it.

His bloodshot eyes stares at the liquid in daze, whiskey always leave a bittersweet taste on his tongue no matter what kind of brand was he chugging at the moment. They're a bit expensive too, but his pay slip can manage the cost of them. It always manages.

Hennessey was always been his favourite, his favourite.

" You're favourite, " He whispers, thumb caressing the photo with surprisingly tenderness. Which almost surprise the B.S.A.A captain.

Because these days the only thing his hands were good at is destroying everything they touch.

Chris felt his eyes sting, he blinks them for a few times trying to dissolve the hot tears that had formed, apparently he's doing a shit job at doing it as tears starts to stream down to his face.

" Fuck. " and like a child, Chris tried to wipe his tears away with the back of his hand.

And here he thought that there are no tears to cry anymore, he was sure that he had dried his eyes out when Piers had died, he had thought that he had already drained his eyes out when he visited the graves of his former alpha team.

Crying his eyes out on empty graves, how pathetic can he be? Once in awhile when his drunk self actually did something productive other than coming up with ideas that are so dumb his drunk self even questions it.

His drunk self once said that he's the world's favourite to fuck up, because not even once, he hadn't bring a body back to be buried.

When he had woken up from his drunken stupor that morning, he hadn't have anything on his mind but that thought.

He recalled the mansion incident, where the bravo team had died, where Wesker had died the first time, nothing. He had come back with nothing but regrets and guilt, and not to mention heartbreak.

At the thought of the certain blond, Chris turns his attention back to the picture that he was holding. A picture that cost more than anything. Jill once asked him why he still had the picture, to which he replies like the ever ignorant fool that he is-

" The best thing about pictures is that they never change, even the person in it do, " He smiles weakly at her.

The only reply that he got from her was small and a pat on the shoulder.

Looking back at it, maybe he should've just thrown the damn piece of paper away, that way he wouldn't feel like an inconsiderate bastard around Jill. But no, even after seeing Jill breaks apart in front of him because of the nightmares that still plaques her at night he still couldn't get his self to do it

" Because how can I do that?" He manages to croak out, he stares down at the picture that is still in his hand, the side where he's holding it getting crumpled by the force of his fingers.

How can he do that when this is the last remnant of how human Wesker was? How his sky blue eyes shines with emotions unlike the inhuman red ones that he had in Africa. How can he do that when Wesker smiles happily at the camera while his arms wrapped around Chris body, hugging him close as Chris took the photo also smiling happily at the camera.

They were a huge meant to be, of what could have been, they were supposed to be. Wesker was his everything but apparently Chris can't have nice things.

Chris chuckles wetly as he drinks an another shot of whiskey, there's still more of these photos but this was his favourite. Maybe because this was their last picture before everything went downhill.

Every now and then a ghost of Wesker visits him on his dream, where everything is alright, where everything is okay, where he's not fucking alone.

Maybe he was destined to be alone, to die a sad death.

But everytime he thought about ending everything once and for all, when he was in the mission with his new team-- Oh how many times did he had wished that someone or anything could kill him so that he wouldn't do the do to himself.

But everytime, whenever he closes his eyes he sees sky blue orbs staring at him, smiling at him, hugging him saying that everything is alright, that he can do it.

Right before he ended his lover's life, a moment of clarity washed over Albert, that for a moment he reverted back to the Albert that he knows and loved. And seeing him struggling and begging him to end it all was too much to handle.

He drinks an another shot, then another, and another, until he got tired of pouring the shot glass. With a growl he throws the shot glass aside, it crushes to the wall next to the countertop.

" I miss you, " he whispers.

" I love you, please comeback, " he called out.

" Please, " he pleaded.

" I'll do anything, so please come back, " he begged.

Who was he kidding? Even if he begs for the millionth time, Albert will never comeback. Because he's dead and he's the one who killed him.