Resident Evil Oneshots

{Albert Wesker x Reader} - Back Again

Movie/Game : Resident Evil/ N/a

---------------------

You were the only one who never gave up on him. No matter how many times others reminded you of what he had done to the team, what he had done to you, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon him. It just wasn't in you.

When the mansion incident happened, you had been the newest rookie on Alpha Team, eager to prove yourself. After two months of monotonous office work, the chance to join a real mission had filled you with excitement. It was your first opportunity to step into the field, and you had been determined to make it count. You couldn't have known how everything would change that day. What mattered to you most, though, was being around Captain Wesker. From the moment you joined, you'd developed more than just a minor crush on him. Even when you messed up and found yourself in trouble, your thoughts always circled back to him—to the way he said your name, his voice lingering in your mind long after.

He knew you liked him, and he used that knowledge to his advantage, pulling you in even deeper. It was in the little things that gave you hope, made you think you might have a chance. The way he would only hold the door open for you, the rare but meaningful smile when you did well, or the occasional pat on your head as if rewarding you. There was the time he gave you a ride home when your car broke down, and for a moment, it felt like he actually cared.

But looking back, none of it seemed to matter to him. If anything, it felt like he had been playing with your head all along—leading you on, giving you fleeting happiness, only to crush your entire world at the mansion.

During the incident, he had been your shield, your protector, the one who kept you grounded amidst the chaos. His presence had been a beacon of safety, and for a while, you believed he would see you through the nightmare. But in the end, he walked away, leaving you behind in a waking horror. The monsters closed in, their guttural sounds and shuffling movements surrounding you, and in that moment, you felt the crushing weight of betrayal. He left without a single glance back, abandoning you to what seemed like certain death. If not for Jill and Barry, you wouldn't have made it out alive.

In the days that followed, the tears came in relentless waves. You cried not just for the terror and trauma of what you'd endured, but for the loss of someone you had trusted so deeply. Your captain—the man you admired, respected, and perhaps even loved—had left you to fend for yourself in the worst way imaginable. The ache wasn't just in your body, bruised and battered from the ordeal; it was in your heart, shattered into pieces you weren't sure could ever be put back together.

He vanished like a ghost, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and the cruel echo of his absence. The team moved on, or at least tried to, but you couldn't. Everyone else seemed content to label him a traitor, to write him off as irredeemable. But you couldn't let go of the hope, fragile as it was, that somewhere deep inside, he wasn't entirely lost.

You held on to the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason behind his actions. Maybe he would return, explain everything, and things could go back to how they used to be—when you believed in him, when you trusted him with your life. But even as you clung to that hope, a part of you whispered the truth you didn't want to face. Some wounds cut too deep, some betrayals left scars that never faded. And no matter how much you wished otherwise, some things could never be undone.

It had been over a year since the mansion incident, but to you, it felt like it had happened only yesterday. The memories were vivid, burned into your mind like a film reel that played on repeat—his sharp commands, the way his eyes gleamed with authority, and finally, the cold, emotionless way he walked away, leaving you behind. Nothing solved the problem for long enough. He was like a shadow that clung to you, no matter how far you ran. Every time you thought you'd finally made progress, something would pull you right back—the faint smell of cologne that reminded you of him, an old photo of Alpha Team before everything fell apart, or even the mention of his name in passing. You hated that he still had this hold over you, even after all this time. He didn't deserve your thoughts, not after what he had done. And yet, no matter how much you tried to let go, the ache in your chest remained, a constant reminder of everything you lost—and everything you still wished could be.