Chapter Text
Two months later, you stood off against your uncle; training session. He was maybe five feet away from you but you couldn’t be sure, his eyes were concealed by his shades, giving away nothing about how he was feeling. You were careful not to trip over your own feet as you circled, remembering what uncle Wesker had taught you weeks prior:
“Don’t turn your back to the enemy or you make matters worse for yourself.” He had told you with a low voice after he had knocked you to the ground for doing exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time, “ Never turn to your side, keep them in front of you; an attack from the side will knock you off balance always. Watch their face and body language, match it as if it were your own.”
You went to get up.
Quick as the wind, uncle Wesker knocked you down again, pinning you down with a boot in between your shoulder blades, “And always be faster than your opponent.”
You thought about this now as you two circled each other. Even with practice, you weren't as nimble as your family member, Albert had always found a way to end the fight by speed or pure force. You still hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of cold concrete.
Your new boots clopped against the floor like horse hooves, it made you feel clumsy and loud and you disliked them to the fullest extent. They were loud now, as you stalked. You wished you could tell what your uncle was thinking by just his eyes like he could with you, it didn't help that his body language was just as hidden. It was like trying to read a rock.
You watched his legs in hope they would give something away. Seeing nothing, you moved your eyes back to his shades, but that was enough time for him to lunge.
You managed to dodge in time but Albert was fast, going to trip you with an outstretched leg. You avoided it narrowly and went on the offensive, flashing out a fist that was caught by a gloved hand. Letting out a growl of frustration, you aimed another at him, but this time turned it at the last second so it collided with his bottom jaw near his chin. Spitting, you uncle stumbled back to recover and taking the chance, you went in for the theoretical kill. You managed to get behind him, getting ready to knock out his legs from under him with a quick jab.
Suddenly, your uncle twisted around, time seemed to slow down as he met your eyes through his glasses. You didn’t have time to even read them before an aimed kick collided with your bottom jaw. Revenge, it seemed, was sweet for your uncle as you went flying and hit the floor, knocking the wind out of you. You lay there gasping for air as he stood over you.
“Yield?” It was a question this time, not an order. He thought you could go on for longer, but the fight was lost. Jaw aching, you nodded slowly and took your uncle’s hand as he offered to help you up, “You did better this time. Managed to land something for once.”
You rolled your eyes, rubbing your sore bones, you mumbled about that being too extra.
Amusement coated your uncle’s voice, “Not my fault you didn’t dodge.”
Exhaling a laugh through your nose, you didn’t answer.
“Ready to try again?” He asked.
In all honesty, you didn’t want to fight again. Not after the kick to your jaw, which looked like it was going to leave a bruise. For once, you were thankful you had superhuman abilities; that meant healing was increased. You shook your head, stretching your body as you turned to get something from the kitchen.
Some sort of intuition made you turn back around, just in time to see your uncle throwing a well aimed punch at your stomach. Instinct took over and you dodged and managed to land the move you tried out earlier, knocking uncle Wesker off balance. But only for a second, he was back on his feet and ready to face you once again. Narrowing your eyes, you attacked him head on, unprepared for the full force behind your blows; each stronger than you had ever achieved in the past. At the time, you were just furious that your uncle had attacked with absolutely no warning, it wasn't until after the fact that you had turned your back to the enemy, uncle Wesker was only teaching you a lesson.
Your anger heated your body, it was the unbearable ferocity that drove you to cause as much harm as possible. Like an animal, you snarled, spittle flying as you bared your teeth. At some point, your punches turned into wide-hand slaps and scratches; you were quickly losing control, letting the creature inside take over. Albert Wesker allowed this, dodging nimbly, but you were gaining speed dangerously fast.
Expectedly, your hand collided with the side of his face. You felt your nails dig into his skin and the glasses shot off his face and clattered loudly on the ground, sliding with the force. Fear sparked under your skin, but the monster wouldn’t let go of it’s hold on you. You watched as your uncle felt where you had afflicted his skin, blood had begun to rise to the surface and drip down. You felt a guttural growl rise in your throat that was quickly quelled by the sight of your uncle’s red eyes lighting up, quite literally, and you had barely time to blink when Albert used a takedown move on you, slamming you to the ground with so much force you thought your spine might shatter. The monster in you snarled defiantly and a hand was tightening around your throat, when you opened your eyes you were faced with gazing into your uncle’s dangerous gaze.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized he was also having trouble controlling the creature inside of him, “Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” He warned, voice colder than the deepest depths of the arctic ocean.
Your vision blurred and you dimly became aware that he was tightening his grip. Gritting your teeth, you latched onto his wrist with a hand. You met his gaze and squeezed, feeling bones grind against each other like stones pressed together in a rockslide. When that didn’t work, you threw your body weight against him, catching him off guard. You gasped for air as his hand left your neck, all anger gone from you, the beast retreating for the time being. For a minute, you two stood feet apart, not leaving each other’s angry gaze.
You broke it first, bending down to pick up his fallen glasses and shoving it in his direction, “Here’s your fucking shades, uncle.” Venom dripped off your words.
His lips rose in a sneer as he put them back on, “Next time watch yourself.”
“Likewise.”
What had happened to your uncle, you didn’t know. He was usually calm, collected, and alright to hang around. But lately it’s been fighting and quiet tension. You missed the old uncle Wesker.
You wandered into your makeshift room, you caught yourself in the mirror, your own red eyes were getting more visible and your hair was messy from the fight. You got closer, examining the way you looked, you longed for the look you had before. You never asked to be injected with… whatever that liquid was! You snarled to yourself, hitting a box off the desk holding it, it slammed against the metal wall and echoed around your room like a lost scream in a cave.
What would your mother think? Asked the sly voice in your head. How would she react to you becoming the thing she hated?
She would never find out. That was a fact. You reminded yourself with a pang of grief. Raccoon City had been nuked the same night you and uncle Wesker escaped on the helicopter. You remembered watching the plane soar past, dropping the atom bomb, and the sickening turbulence that came after. You were too in shock to cry then, but as soon as you had gotten situated in your room you had cried as if your life depended on it. Your uncle had let you grieve for a week, coming in every so often to check on you and bring you food, it seemed like he cared then. Maybe you were too stressful for him now? The thought made you clench your teeth.
A knock at the door made you jump. Before you could turn, the door opened and revealed your uncle. His arms were crossed, glasses back on his face and hair fixed. The wound you gave him was already starting to heal, the blood washed away.
“Come to choke me out again?” The words exited your mouth before you could stop it. It dripped with wariness and past anger.
He shook his head, “I believe we owe each other an apology.”
You stayed quiet, not wanting to say sorry for something that wasn’t your fault. You felt a scowl etch on your face.
Uncle Wesker suppressed a sigh, “If you would rather a one-sided apology, I believe I can manage that. It’s selfish for you not to realize your part in this ordeal, I might add.” His voice grew slow, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “I may not be the exact parent figure a teenager needs, I do not understand the needs of a child-”
“I am not a child!” You hissed.
“However, I am trying.” He acted like you didn’t say a word, “Especially two humans injected with the Virus; it has never been tested so fights between the injected could be more common. It may also be an alpha male situation,” Your uncle droned on, “Our DNA is quite similar, it could be we are both competing for leadership. That is something I’d like to avoid. I’d prefer us to train and curb our instincts to properly fight tooth and nail.” He looked at you expectantly.
You gazed at him with unyielding eyes, “Is that your way of apologizing?” A laugh escaped you quickly, “How do you think my mother would’ve reacted to what you just pulled? Choked her kid? You know what she would do?” You asked, an edge to your voice, “She would never allow you to see me again.”
“Your mother is dead, Nicholas.” Albert’s voice turned icy cold, it froze the room. He was holding back his temper, jaw clenched, “She isn’t here to save you from the virus, she is a failure at the W-Project, she should’ve died and you shouldn’t exist. Her genes misfired and entered her reproductive organs, making her nearly infertile. You were a so-called miracle with half the Virus genes instead of human DNA, I could’ve and should’ve killed you the moment I held you in that hospital room, but the truth is I doted on you so much because I saw you in myself. Yet my son means nothing to me and yet I take care of you like my own. Think for a single second how lucky you are to have someone that saved your life like I did. Face the truth, my nephew, because nobody can face it for you but yourself.” He spat before slamming the door. Leaving you in the darkness.