Marissa Nivans sadly looked down at the grave. Piers Joseph Nivans October 2, 1986 - July 1, 2013

It'd been three months and she still couldn't wrap her head around it. Her son, her child, her baby was dead.

She could still remember holding him for the first time in the hospital. He had reached up and did that special baby coo, and she had just been so happy that he was alright.

She could remember all the times she would have to get up in the middle of the night to take care of him, but that was alright with her, especially when her father had come and moved the crib into her own bedroom so she could be even closer to her darling son.

She smiled through the slowly growing tears as she thought about the first time her husband had seen his son. Piers had been one of the few things that had been able to get him to smile, though now nothing was able to make Mr. Nivans be happy.

She sat down next to the grave stone. She lit the three candles on the cupcake she'd brought and then placed it in front of the gravestone.

"Happy birthday baby," she said before reaching over and tracing the words 'Loving Husband, Best Friend, Honorable Soldier.'

She let the tears roll down her cheeks. Her only son was dead, not even thirty. He'd left his wife and his friends; their 'extended family.'

She wiped her right eye as she remembered the day Rebecca Chambers had first met Piers. They'd gone home to their apartment that was still filled with cardboard boxes, and for the first time in days, Piers had talked about something (someone, actually) other than Pokémon.

In the next breath, she remembered how Becky had reacted when she'd found out he was dead.

The left eye was wiped next and Marissa got up on unsteady legs. Then the pang in her heart made her sit back down. She wanted to stay with her son for as long as she could today. Her baby shouldn't be alone on his birthday.

"I love you so much," she told her son. She wished he was home, that they were all celebrating together. She could already imagine it: she'd tell him twenty-seven was an important birthday, and he would remind her that's what she'd been saying for as long as he could remember.

Of course, her husband would tease them that it didn't really matter if it was important or not because, regardless, they all got Piers' favorite red velvet cake with cream cheese icing, not to mention caramel ice cream.

Piers would sheepishly smile and agree, and then the door bell would ring and Becky and her family would be there, and Piers would hug them because that's how he was.

Next Leon would come and like he has been since Piers' thirteenth birthday, he would give Piers a caramel apple to accompany the other present he brought.

Next would probably be Billy Coen and Tanya O'Riley, both with their own present and card because they could never agree on what they thought Piers would like, and their opinions always changed ever year.

Marissa had to stop the fantasy for a moment and truly consider who else Piers would've wanted at his birthday this year.

As she did this, footsteps fell on the ground. She looked up and saw the exact man she'd been thinking about; Chris Redfield.

"Good morning," he said to her. "Just came to pay my respects," he told her as he bent down and put a card next to the red velvet cupcake iced with cream cheese.

"Hello," she said softly. They hadn't seen each other since the funeral, and even then it'd only been brief, and he hadn't even talked to her.

"How are you?" he asked.

She thought about saying something snarky, but that was right before she remembered that situation he was in wasn't too different from her own. On top of the team he'd lost back in Edonia, he'd lost the team in China, too.

"I've been a lot better," she told him before she started crying again. She almost wished she could die next to Piers' gravestone, but she knew that was far too morbid.

Chris nodded, understanding what she meant. "Piers was one of a kind."

She stared at the B.S.S.A. captain. He looked worn down, and he smelled like coffee. She wouldn't be surprised to find out that the caffeinated drink was what kept him going most of the time.

"Is what you said true?" she asked him.

He didn't look at her. "Of course; not many people would hunt me down and drag my amnesiac ass out of a bar."

"No, not that. That he was a martyr for the cause," she said to him.

He looked down at her. His brown eyes were shining even though not much light was on his face. "Piers was dedicated to the future. At the end of the day, anyone who fights for anything is."

She nodded. The answer sated her curiosity for the moment.

"I wish I could hold him again," she confessed.

She heard Chris take a deep breath. "I don't have anything to wish for. Piers wanted to die that day."

Marissa looked up at Chris, shocked that he would say something like that in front of her.

Before she could tell him to take it back, he explained.

"His right arm was crushed under falling debris. He had severed it to inject himself with the C-Virus because he knew it'd never be of use again. You wouldn't have wanted him to be a cripple. They always think that there was something they could've done differently, or they hate themselves, or they lash out at those that are really only trying to help them," he explained to her. "So, in a way, I'm glad he died. He died knowing he'd made a difference; there was one less threat in the world."

Somewhere along the way, the tears begun to roll down profusely. Marissa wiped them away before talking.

"You seem to know a lot about cripples," she told him.

A half smirk formed on his lips. "Guess I've gotten to know a lot about that kind of stuff over the years."

She sighed. "I remember when Piers told us he was trying out for the B.S.S.A.. Of course, his father was proud, but I was scared. I didn't want to lose him to some monster in a third world country. It was Rebecca who finally calmed me down. She assured me tha lt you, Jill, and Barry were the best of the best when it came to B. and wouldn't let my son in if he wasn't ready."

Chris's smirk became a sad smile. He could remember the day that Piers walked in, his mindset somewhere in between wondering if he could get in and being rather cocky. But, he'd had a natural talent for all of it, and he was in and out of the academy, graduating top of his class.

"Now he's somewhere in the Pacific," he said softly.


Piers wiped his eyes. He wished he could touch his mother and his ex captain. Comfort him that he was alright and watching over them in heaven. That he wasn't alone; his grandparents and his ex comrades were there. He'd even met some of the dead S.T.A.R.S. members, and some Spanish guy named Luis Sera.

He wanted to tell Chris that he had his arm back when he'd woke up dead, and that it was working just fine. He wanted to hug his mom and tell her that she shouldn't get a cold just because she didn't want to leave him alone.

"I love you guys," he told them as two of his favorite people in the world said their good byes to each other. They both said 'Happy birthday' one last time before they turned around and walked towards their respective cars.

The dead man sighed as he left the material world to go back to the ethereal one above.


Author's Note: Sorry that this was a little bit late, I completely forgot, and then I was gone for the weekend, and I'm actually writing this on my iPod in the car, so...

If you're reading my current 'main' fanfic The Two of Them, there were some hints in this, sorta...

Hope you liked this and didn't cry half as much as I did because I almost started having a bloody nose twice (I am very emotional when it comes to Piers though...) Please review! :)

~HolleringHawk65