< Old Bunker >
No dreams, no monsters—just quiet. A kind of stillness so deep it almost felt like floating. Then came pressure, soft and steady, a slow rhythm against his chest. Soren's consciousness surfaced gradually, like rising through dark water, as light bled into his vision in a faint circular blur. The familiar ceiling came into focus, along with the dim bunker lights and that clean, faintly sweet scent that calmed him instantly. His breathing steadied before he even realized it had been uneven.
Warmth rested against his side. He looked down and saw a hand tracing slow, absent circles across his chest. Not rushed, not nervous—just there. Grounding. His shirt was gone, replaced by tightly wrapped bandages across his torso, the fabric shifting slightly with each breath and with each gentle movement of her fingers.
Jill lay beside him. Close—closer than she usually allowed herself to be. Her focus wasn't on anything in particular, just the quiet motion of her hand, like she was making sure something was still real. Still intact.
Soren shifted slightly, the movement small—but enough.
Jill froze.
"…Morning," Soren said softly.
Too late.
Her hand pulled back slowly, like any fast movement would give her away. She buried her face, eyes snapping shut as she grabbed onto his arm—tight enough to look convincing. Pretending.
A smile tugged at the corner of Soren's lips as he watched her for a second longer than necessary. The faint red creeping across her cheeks gave her away completely. Slowly, he lifted his hand and tapped the tip of her nose, light and gentle.
"You know… I didn't mind that," he murmured. "It was actually kinda nice."
"I'm asleep," Jill mumbled instantly. "No idea what you're talking about."
Her grip tightened slightly.
Soren let out a quiet breath, something softer than a laugh. "Uh-huh."
No response.
"…Also," he added, his voice just a bit lighter, "you're really cute when you're flustered."
That did it.
Her ears turned red.
"Jerk," she muttered under her breath, giving his arm a small, retaliatory squeeze.
Silence settled again, not awkward—just quiet. Comfortable.
Jill's eyes opened slowly this time, no longer pretending. They met his. Blue. Clear. Focused. There was something in them—something softer than before.
"You hungry?" she asked.
Simple. Normal.
Soren blinked once, like he had to pull himself back into the moment. "…Yeah," he said, though his voice came out slightly distracted.
She noticed. Of course she did. A small, knowing smile formed.
"You're cute too when you're flustered."
Soren huffed quietly.
"Touché," he admitted after a second.
Jill shifted off the bed, her movements casual—but not careless. She reached for a neatly folded green shirt resting nearby and handed it to him, then paused. Her eyes flicked over his bandaged torso, lingering just for a second.
"That," she said, pointing briefly before turning away, "is for my eyes only, mister."
There it was again—that slight edge, that mix of confidence and shyness.
Soren shook his head, a small smile still on his face, and pulled the shirt on slowly, the fabric brushing against the bandages, grounding him in a way he didn't expect.
As the two stepped out into the hallway, they were met with the smell of food—warm, rich, and almost out of place in a bunker built for survival. A second later, Kendo came into view, heading toward the mess room with a full stack of pancakes balanced in his hands.
He spotted them and grinned. "Good morning, sleepyheads. Come on—get some before they're gone."
He jerked his head toward the plates as he kept walking. Jill and Soren exchanged a brief look before following.
By the time they stepped into the mess room, Frost and Emma were already halfway through their plates, eating like they hadn't seen food in days. Rebecca sat across from them, her fork barely moving, her attention fixed on her plate.
Emma looked up first.
Her face lit up instantly as she threw both hands into the air. "Yay! More pancakes!"
For a moment, the tension cracked.
Then Frost looked up.
His expression shifted the second his eyes landed on Soren. His grip tightened slightly around his fork, the metal scraping faintly against the plate before he forced himself to relax. It looked like he wanted to say something—really say something—but instead, he dropped his gaze and went back to eating.
Rebecca smiled at Jill when she noticed her.
She never looked at Soren.
That alone said enough.
Jill and Soren took their seats, and just like that, the air in the room shifted. Not loud. Not obvious. Just… heavier. The kind of silence that didn't need words to explain itself.
Even Emma noticed it, her small smile fading just a little as she looked between them.
Kendo let out a quiet breath and set the pancakes down. "Hey," he said, glancing between them, "don't let them go to waste."
Jill picked up her fork. Soren followed a second later.
The first bite hit—and both of them paused.
Then immediately started eating.
Whatever Kendo had done, it worked. The pancakes were warm, soft, just sweet enough—and after everything, it hit harder than it should've. Neither of them had eaten properly in too long.
For a few moments, that was enough.
Rebecca stood first.
She didn't say anything. She didn't look up.
She just pushed her chair back and walked out, her plate barely touched.
Frost lasted a few seconds longer. He shoved the last bite into his mouth, stood abruptly, and grabbed his plate.
Still didn't look at Soren.
Then he was gone too.
The door closed behind them.
Soren watched it for a second longer than necessary.
Then he looked at Jill.
"…Did I miss something?"
Jill didn't even hesitate. She gave him a flat look. "Are you serious? You really don't know why they're pissed?"
Soren frowned slightly, scratching the back of his head. "I mean… everything worked out in the end. So why are they this pissed?"
That did it.
Jill set her fork down.
"You know Frost wanted to kick your ass last night," she said, her tone sharper now. "He wanted to wake you up just so he could knock some sense into you."
Soren blinked, caught off guard—but she didn't stop.
"Rebecca was cussing the entire time she was digging the bullets out of you. So yeah—they're mad." She paused just long enough for it to land. "And frankly, so am I."
Now Soren looked both confused and a little frustrated. "What? I was trying to help. It's not like I'm trying to get myself killed."
The moment the words left his mouth, Jill's expression changed.
The edge dropped.
"I know," she said quietly. "But to the rest of us… it feels like you don't care."
Soren's voice softened at the sight of her. "Of course I care."
"Not about us, dummy." Her gaze lowered slightly, her voice losing its bite. "About yourself."
He didn't interrupt.
"You keep doing things like you're a one-man army," she continued, "and you always end up hurt. And the people that feel like shit afterward—the ones that feel like we're just dragging you down?"
Her hands tightened slightly in her lap.
"That's us."
The room felt smaller now.
Quieter.
"It feels like you don't trust us."
That one didn't just hit.
It landed.
Hard.
Soren leaned back slightly, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair, fingers dragging down to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"…Shit."
Because she was right.
At some point, without realizing it, he had stopped seeing them as people who could stand beside him—and started seeing them as something that needed to be protected from everything.
Including himself.
"You're right," he said after a moment, quieter now. "I did stop trusting you. All of you." He shook his head slightly. "That's on me. I didn't mean for it, but somewhere along the way all I could think about was keeping you guys safe. And I stopped relying on you because that meant putting you in harm's way."
Jill looked back up at him.
Saw it.
The realization.
She reached out and took his hand.
"I'm not the one you need to say that to, dummy."
Soren shook his head. "No… out of everyone, you're the last person I should've treated like that." His grip tightened slightly around hers. "I'm really sorry, Jill."
She didn't answer right away.
Instead, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting against him.
"Thank you for saying that."
Soren didn't respond.
He just rested his chin lightly against the top of her head.
And let the moment sit.
Soren stayed there for a moment, his chin resting lightly against the top of her head, letting everything settle.
Then he exhaled quietly.
"…I'm going to fix this," he said.
Jill shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "Fix what?"
"All of it."
That got her attention.
"No more going off on my own. No more playing lone wolf," he continued, his voice steady now. "You were right. I've been treating all of you like something I need to protect instead of people I can fight alongside."
Jill didn't say anything.
She just watched him.
"I've got a plan," Soren added. "And this time, everyone's involved. No more solo cowboy shit."
A small pause.
Then—
"We're going back to Raccoon City."
Jill blinked once.
Then again.
And just like that, something in her lit up. Not fear. Not hesitation. Something brighter.
"Finally," she breathed, a smile breaking across her face.
Before Soren could react, her hand shot out, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in.
She kissed him.
Quick.
Sharp.
Full of everything she hadn't said out loud.
Then she pulled back just as fast, a grin still on her face.
"Don't go anywhere," she said, already stepping away. "I'm getting geared."
And just like that—
She was gone.
Out the door.
Fast.
Soren stood there for a second, blinking, still processing what just happened.
Then he let out a quiet breath, a smirk forming as he ran a hand through his hair.
"…Damn woman," he muttered. "Hits like a hurricane."
He shook his head, still half-dazed, before pushing himself up from the chair.
There was one more thing he needed to handle.
Rebecca.
Soren didn't have to look far.
Rebecca's lab door was closed.
He stopped in front of it for a second, then knocked once.
No answer.
He opened it anyway.
Rebecca stood at the far table, back to him, hands braced against the surface. The monitors were on, data scrolling, but she wasn't actually working. She hadn't moved.
She knew he was there.
"…You should be resting," she said, her voice tight.
Soren stepped inside, letting the door shut behind him. "I'm fine."
"Yeah," she said flatly. "You looked real fine last night."
He didn't answer that.
For once.
"…Rebecca."
"Don't."
She cut him off immediately, her shoulders tensing. "Don't do that thing where you try to make it sound okay."
Soren stopped a few steps behind her.
"I'm not," he said.
That made her pause.
Just slightly.
"You almost died," she said again, quieter now.
"I know."
"And you're just… fine with that?"
"No."
That made her turn.
Finally.
Her eyes locked onto his, frustration clear—but underneath it, something else.
"You don't act like it," she said. "You just keep doing it. Over and over."
Soren nodded once. "Yeah. I heard that already."
She frowned slightly. "From Jill?"
"Yeah."
A small pause.
"Then you already know what I'm going to say."
"Probably," he admitted. "Doesn't mean I shouldn't hear it."
That threw her off for a second.
Enough for him to step forward.
"I screwed up," he said plainly. "I've been making decisions on my own and dragging all of you into the fallout after."
Rebecca shook her head and turned away, walking back to the desk. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"You treat us like children," she said. "Like we're blind and you're the only one that can see."
The words hung there.
Heavy.
"I'm not a child, Soren. I'm—"
She stopped.
Didn't finish.
But he knew.
Soren took a slow breath. "Rebecca… I don't have any right to say this—especially after the way I've treated all of you—but…"
She turned back at the shift in his voice.
"…if you keep bottling everything up, it's going to explode. And you might think this is cruel, but I do care about you."
Her eyes sharpened instantly.
For a split second, it looked like she was about to tear into him again—
But he didn't give her the chance.
"Tell me."
That stopped her.
Rebecca's face shifted, emotion after emotion flashing across it like she was fighting herself.
Holding it back.
Forcing it down.
Then—
"Fine!" she snapped. "You want to hear it? Fine—I'm in love with you. Happy?"
The words hit hard.
Too fast.
Too raw.
Tears spilled down her face, but the anger didn't leave—if anything, it sharpened.
"Like an idiot, I'm in love with a man that has no interest in me," she continued, her voice breaking but not stopping. "And to make it worse—you're in love with the only person I think of as my sister."
Her hands clenched at her sides.
"Do you know how that feels?" she demanded. "The guilt for feeling this way—and the pain of seeing you and her together? Do you?"
She shouted the last part—
And then she broke.
Her legs gave out, and she dropped to the floor.
Soren moved immediately.
He caught her before she could fully collapse, pulling her into him as she started hitting his chest—angry, desperate, unfocused.
He didn't stop her.
Didn't defend himself.
Just held her there.
The hits slowed.
Then stopped.
Her hands clenched in his shirt instead, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
And then she cried.
They stayed like that for a while.
No words.
Just the quiet sound of Rebecca's breathing slowly evening out as she clung to him, the tension in her body gradually loosening.
Soren didn't move.
Didn't speak.
He just let her.
Outside the room—
Jill stood frozen.
She hadn't meant to stop.
Hadn't meant to listen.
But once she heard Rebecca's voice break—
She couldn't walk away.
Now she stood there, just beyond the door, every word still echoing in her head.
Conflicted.
Part of her wanted to go in.
To kneel beside her.
To comfort her.
To remind her that she wasn't alone.
But the other part—
The part that remembered that conversation back in the mansion…
The promise.
That part burned.
Hurt.
Anger.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just there.
Quiet.
Sharp.
Jill closed her eyes for a moment.
Then stepped back.
And walked away.
Inside the room, Rebecca slowly pulled away from Soren.
She didn't meet his eyes.
"…I'm sorry," she muttered.
Soren shook his head immediately. "Don't."
She hesitated.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," he said, his voice calm, steady.
Rebecca let out a small breath, but she didn't argue.
Didn't push.
There wasn't anything left to say.
Soren stood, offering her a hand.
She took it.
He helped her to her feet.
"…Come to the armory when you're ready," he said.
Simple.
No pressure.
No expectation.
Just an invitation.
Rebecca nodded faintly.
Soren didn't linger.
He turned and walked out of the room.
The hallway was empty.
Quiet.
He already knew where he was going next.
Frost.
Soren didn't have to look long.
Frost was in the armory.
Of course he was.
He stood at one of the benches, half a rifle stripped in front of him, hands moving slow and steady—methodical, like he was focusing on the work just to keep his head straight.
He didn't look up when Soren walked in.
"You're loud for someone who was unconscious a few hours ago," Frost muttered.
Soren leaned against the table behind him. "I'm getting better."
"Yeah," Frost said. "That's the problem."
That made Soren pause.
Frost set a piece down, finally glancing up—not fully, just enough to acknowledge him.
"You done scaring the shit out of everyone, or you got another round planned?" he asked.
Soren let out a small breath. "I deserved that."
"Did you?" Frost replied, dry. "Good. Saves me time."
Silence stretched for a second.
Frost picked the rifle back up, but he wasn't really working on it anymore.
"You ever notice," he said after a moment, "how it's always your call?"
Soren didn't answer.
"You don't ask," Frost continued. "You don't even say anything half the time. You just… go. And we figure it out after."
A small pause.
"Usually while you're bleeding out somewhere."
Soren nodded once. "Yeah."
Frost stopped.
That—
That threw him off more than anything else so far.
He looked at Soren properly now.
"…That it?" he asked. "No argument? No 'I had it handled' speech?"
Soren shook his head. "No."
Another pause.
Then—
"I'm done doing that," he added.
Frost studied him, eyes narrowing slightly—not aggressive, just measuring.
"Done how?" he asked.
"I've got a plan," Soren said. "And everyone's part of it. No more going off on my own."
Frost held his gaze for a second longer.
"…Took you long enough," he muttered.
Then he stepped forward.
Not fast.
Not sudden.
Just… closed the distance.
And then he hit him.
Clean.
Straight to the jaw.
The crack echoed off the concrete walls.
Soren's head snapped to the side—but that was it. No stumble. No reaction beyond the impact itself.
Frost pulled his hand back immediately.
"—fuck."
He flexed his fingers, wincing. "Why does it feel like I just punched a brick?"
Soren rolled his jaw once, then looked back at him. "…You should've aimed for something softer."
Frost snorted, still shaking his hand out. "Fuck you, asshole."
That hung there for a second.
Then—
Frost grinned, rolling his shoulder as the tension finally bled out of him.
"…You good?" he asked.
Soren nodded once, a smirk on his face. "Yeah."
Frost gave a small nod back, like that was enough confirmation.
Then he jerked his head toward the door. "Alright. What's the plan?"
Just like that.
Back to it.
Frost didn't move from where he stood, but his attention shifted toward the doorway.
Jill stepped in first.
She didn't look at Soren right away.
Instead, she moved in just far enough to be part of the room, then stopped—keeping a small, noticeable distance from him. Not far. Just enough.
Enough to feel it.
A second later, Rebecca appeared in the doorway.
She didn't come in all the way.
Just inside the frame.
Close to the exit.
Like she hadn't decided if she was staying.
The room settled into a quiet, uneven balance.
Frost leaned back against the bench, arms loosely crossed. Jill stood off to the side, her posture controlled but distant. Rebecca stayed near the door, hands close to her sides, eyes lowered for a second before she finally looked up.
Soren took all of it in.
Didn't comment.
Didn't push.
Good.
They were here.
That was enough.
He straightened slightly.
"We don't have a lot of time," he said.
No buildup.
No easing into it.
That got their attention.
"All of this—" he gestured slightly, not just at the room, but everything beyond it, "—it's not slowing down. It's building."
Frost's expression tightened just a fraction.
Jill finally looked at him.
Rebecca didn't move.
"If I'm right," Soren continued, his voice steady, "things are going to get really bad."
A small pause.
Then—
"In the next nine days."
That landed.
No one interrupted.
No one questioned it.
Because the way he said it—
He believed it.
Soren let the silence sit for a second, making sure it sank in.
Then he looked at each of them in turn.
Frost.
Jill.
Rebecca.
"This time, we move together," he said. "No one gets left out. No one stays in the dark."
Jill's expression shifted slightly at that.
Rebecca's fingers tightened just a little.
Frost didn't react—but he didn't look away either.
Soren took a breath.
Then said it.
"We're going back to the RPD."