Dedicated to: Shady777

Pairings: None Genre: Angst Warnings: None really, but don't blame me if the idea of drugs and drink drives you weird Other: This has no plot. It's just a little scene that was in my head one day whilst thinking of a fiction for Shady777. It's set four years after Alexia was frozen (I'm going by the game's reckoning on Alfred being 15 when Alexia froze herself) and it contains little spoilers on Hunk's real name. Oh yeah...and the title has nothing to do with anything...it just sounds good, ne?/b

"And in doing so I hope to rearrange the full DNA structure of subject A154, causing the full..."

/I

"Perhaps you'd like to tell us the full effects of this 'fantastic breakthrough'?"

I/No...I want you to shut up.../I

"How does that work then?"

I/Why don't you all shut up? Better yet...why don't you all die a horrible death?/ /I

"What do you think, Sir Alfred?"

Alfred looked up, a look of shock reflecting in his pale blue eyes. Said eyes looked around the room, looked around the table, where familiar faces stared back at him, waiting like eager dogs.

"I...well...it's all for research, yes?" The small blonde choked out a hesitant reply, his eyes ever darting, "So...maybe we ought to allow it?"

One of the other researchers looked shocked. "But Sir Alfred! If we allow this...this barbaric experiment to go ahead, then it could cost lives, money, time, and research hours!"

I/I have no idea what you are talking about.../I

Alfred squirmed, his chair making a soft rustling sound as he did so. He felt as though he was deer standing in front of car headlights. Frozen... "Well..." His voice bore a tone of hesitance, his expression slightly that of confusion, "Maybe we ought to take a vote?" His suggestions weren't usually that lame.

This seemed to make the whole table relax, the atmosphere becoming that of the usual chatty and business-like office that the board was. Several hands shot up as Jay Reston took control, his words and tone leading the argument, and then a few more in favour of Nicholas Griffith – a leading researcher who had previously worked with...

The short blonde man squirming in his chair closed his eyes.

/I

His very soul, his reason for being... His love... She meant so much to him...

I/Alexia...come back to me Alexia.../I

Even at the mention, the very thought of her, Alfred Ashford still felt his insides churn and his soul shatter. When Alexia had been taken from him, a part of him had gone with her.

Nowadays, all it seemed was that the drugs and alcohol were his only reassurance, that his whole existence lay on the edge of whisky, bourbon, vodka, and small round pills.

And it was killing him softly...

(***)

Much to the young man's relief, the meeting ended soon after, Jay Reston smirking and acting like the smarmy git he always was, and Nicholas Griffith pleading to Oswall Spencer to reconsider.

Alfred walked the dusty corridors alone, researchers passing him, acknowledging him, greeting him, uttering meaningless words to him, but never making it past his inner demons to receive any reply from the silent blonde.

It was strange...

The mention of one name, and his whole world seemed to change; become cold, dull and unclean. He felt alone and cold in the harsh unforgiving environments and he felt as though he was simply a shell being carried upon a sea of thoughts and lifeless speculations.

Delicate fingers pried the cap off a small flask and an arm much like the thin bones of death raised it to tender pink lips. Alfred could taste the burning of the liquid down his throat and when he had swallowed he had gagged instantly, choking, with his azure eyes watering.

I/My whole life...my reason for living.../I

Did he even listen to his thoughts anymore?

I/The drink tastes bitter...but I'll drink until I can no longer feel it...no longer feel.../I

"Pain..." He had coughed the word this time; his train of thought moving to that of the taste of the whisky he was now raising to his lips again.

/I

He choked once more and this time saliva came with it, infused with the acidy taste. He recalled searching in his pocket for a small handkerchief and coughing into it, folding it and replacing it when he was done.

"Hey, Alfred!"

Alfred's eyes widened and the instant reaction of replacing the capped flask into his inner jacket pocket occurred quickly. "Y-yes?"

A hand, a strong, calloused hand, one that felt rough with years of hard work, was on his shoulder, squeezing quite gently. It felt all too familiar...even to the 19-year-old blonde boy.

"Hunk?" Alfred made it sound like a question and a statement. He was all too unsure of who it actually was. He felt the hand shake him softly and he looked up with now bloodshot eyes, locked instantly into the soft gaze of rich hazel eyes.

James Cooper, also known as Hunk, stood taller than Alfred, with a soft mop of neatly brushed brown hair, and the most beautiful eyes Alfred had ever seen, stood now in front of him, causing the smaller blonde's neck to strain as he looked upwards. The other man, much older than Alfred by six years, smiled softly with that pair of cracked lips.

No words were passed between the two for what seemed like forever, both of them standing in the light of the window of the sixth floor of the Umbrella building. Hunk stood tall and muscular, eyes locked to the eyes of the much smaller, thinner male. Alfred felt his heart tear.

And then, in the silence, Hunk leaned forwards, the hand on Alfred's shoulder tightening into a not too harmful grip, and then used the other arm to reach into Alfred's ruby red jacket. The smaller blonde let out a cry and then reached up to stop the older man, only to realise that Hunk had actually retrieved the hidden flask from his inner pocket.

Both men stared at the small silver metallic flask, engraved with the Ashford emblem, and marked with the golden wings of the Hawk – the symbol of the family name – and then Hunk shook his head.

"Alfred..." His soft booming voice held disappointment, his eyes narrowing. Alfred squirmed again, feeling that uncomfortable ache in his gut once more. Anyone else who challenged him like this would be killed on the spot, but James Cooper – Hunk – was different.

The smaller blonde felt like a child being scolded. After all...Hunk commanded much more authority than 'normal' people...so much more...

I~Flashback~

The fourteen-year-old boy raised the sniper rifle once more and looked down at his target. Even through the scope, it still seemed so far away. Yet if he fired and missed, that would be it! His sister would shun him and his father would beat him... Why had he even joined the Rockfort Military? Oh...that was right...to keep himself out of Alexia's hair...

Suddenly, there was someone behind him, both hands over his. "Relax..." A deep voice spoke softly to him, the hands warm and reassuring, "...Keep your breathing calm and slow."

"It's...too far away!" Alfred's soft and delicate voice spoke in a panic, his eyes wide and sweat slicking his hair. He felt the other man's head shake and then the head was leaning over his shoulder, the strong hands supporting him.

"Look through the scope..." Alfred obeyed. This was a lesson worth learning. A lesson that wouldn't be taught by any ordinary instructor. "Now...focus on the target...just look for the centre...focus on the white...don't think of anything else..." Alfred found himself seeing the target much more clearly, much to his own surprise. "Now...keep the target in your mind...close your eyes..." Alfred could still see the white in his mind... "Fire!" Alfred fired.

Down in the field near the military posts, a target's centre exploded, sending two test dummies flying into the air, covering in burning fuel. Alfred's eyes widened and he looked up into proud hazel eyes. "My name's James Cooper." The man told him, "You and me are now partners..."

~End Flashback~/I

"Why do this to yourself?"

"I...dunno..."

The two were in the bathrooms, Alfred watching weakly as Hunk poured the last of the whisky into the sink. Hunk's expression was unreadable, no matter how hard Alfred tried to read him.

When he had finished, Hunk washed out the flask and then handed it back, his eyes now full of anger.

"I understand your anger and upsets, Alfred. Don't for one minute think I can't read you." Hunk sighed and leaned back on the sinks, Alfred replacing the flask into his jacket. "It's Alexia isn't it?"

The previous feelings returned, the pain, the sickness, the anger, the sadness, and Alfred's face twisted into a grimace. Hunk seemed satisfied. "Thought so." He leaned back and then fished a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his military jacket.

The small blonde watched in silence as the tall brown-haired man lit up and then breathed in a few times.

"She's not dead..." Alfred stated, looking blankly at Hunk. Hunk nodded. "Heh...I guessed that, short stuff. You'd be dead by now if she were." Hunk laid a reassuring hand once again on Alfred's shoulder, their gazes meeting again. "Don't worry about a thing." He told the boy, smiling warmly, "I'm here for you. We're friends, remember? I promised I'd always be there, and now I am."

Hunk's mobile rang out with the tune of "Pulp Fiction" – shattering the tender moment. The older man's eyes rolled and he answered, speaking sharply.

"Yeah? What? That's me. Uh huh? Really? Aw jeez...fine. Yeah. Sure. Uh huh. Well ain't that pretty? Sure...okay. I'll be there."

The phone was replaced and then he turned to Alfred, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, baby boy, but I got a mission to attend. I'll be back in a few weeks, maybe even days, okay? We'll talk then, ne?"

Alfred nodded, watching Hunk leave through the door, staring at it long after he'd gone. He stood still, his eyes now resting on a packet of small white tablets he had pulled from his pocket.

The Ashford sighed, throwing them in the bin and leaving also...

~The End~ An Ashford2ashford production