ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: June 2023
NOTES: A gift for Tumblr user comrade-botanistman as part of sstewyhosseini / bbrocklesnar 's Resident Evil Gift Exchange event!
The mornings were always the hardest. Watching that sleepy fog lift and give clarity to the mirror hanging just above the sink, lights shining down to illuminate every exposed inch of Jill’s features. The slowly fading shadows beneath her eyes. The texture of her skin. The way her brows knitted as blonde strands of hair fell into her view, unable to shield the way the image before her morphed. The way the room turned and grew cold as an all too familiar feeling of panic settled.
‘Jill. Jill—Come on. Snap out of it!’
Knuckles paled as fingers dug into the slick ceramic. Eyes narrowed at the distorted reflection. A shadow loomed just behind her, though she remained unaware. All she could see was the husk that Wesker had left in her place.
'Come on, Jill!’
A hand rose to clutch at her chest, fists balling around the loose fabric of her shirt. She winced at the empty feeling, shrinking in on herself as she finally broke her gaze and came to rest her shoulder against the adjacent wall. Breaths grew rapid as she sunk to the cooled, tile flooring. Eyes darted to the space before her as she felt herself growing dizzy. Felt a warm feeling just beside her. She froze, just able to raise her gaze enough to see a familiar face by her side.
“Are you alright?”
“Carlos…”
The man smiled a bit at the recognition, worry stricken in his features as he cautiously touched at her arm. He used his leg to nudge the discarded pair of scissors away from her side, opting to place himself between them as he kneeled. Gentle eyes met her gaze, and the mercenary found himself gently guiding her into a loose hug.
“What happened? I heard something fall, then I came in, and you were… I don’t even think you saw me, but you were lookin’ right at me. Least it seemed like it.”
Shoulders dropped as she leaned into his side, hands hesitant to reach out and touch at his arm. To guide him closer to her as she caught her breath. She watched his hands as they moved, focused just enough to react in the event he tried anything. Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t. She told herself that countless times. She was safe; Carlos was safe. Still, her nerves were taut. Drawn like that of a bow, ready to fire. She shook her head a bit, taking a breath before speaking.
“I didn’t realize how much my hair’s faded…”
“Huh. Yeah… It looks good.” Carlos smiled a bit.
Jill scoffed, watching as the movement of her head guided the light locks to rest against her shoulder.
“I hate it.”
“Because of—?”
“Yeah.”
Carlos nodded a bit, watching as Jill rested by his side. Watching as she brought her knees closer, hugging them as her gaze rose to the dye on the counter. He followed, wheels turning as he reached for the scissors beside him.
“Hey, how about I help you fix it up, then? Just a warning, I didn’t exactly go to cosmetology school.” He laughed, nudging her arm as he stood and offered a hand.
She couldn’t help the ghostly laugh that escaped her, nor the way her hand seemed to find his on its own. And so she stood with him, slow to sit herself on the counter as he’d retrieved the discarded tools and set them down beside her. Yet even that bit of comfort seemed short-lived as the nausea resettled in her gut. Conflict etched itself onto her face as Carlos finished setting up a little station, and it didn’t escape him.
“Hey,” his voice was soft, and his touch even softer. Calloused fingers brushed the back of her hand. “What’s on your mind, supercop?”
“I…” The words failed to escape Jill as she peered over her shoulder and toward the mirror again.
She remained present this time, allowing herself to reach up and brush a few stray hairs aside. For a moment, there was euphoria. A comfort in what she saw. But as always, Wesker lingered behind the sensation. He was there to ruin it, just as he’d (effectively) ruined her. She sighed, shaking her head.
“I should be happy it’s gotten this long. I used to always have trouble growing it past a few inches. Hell, your hair’s longer than I’ve ever managed back then.” A faint laugh, accompanied by a subtle nudge to his arm.
He laughed with her, offering a playful 'hey!’ as he nudged back.
“But?”
Curse him for knowing her so well.
“… But even though it makes me feel more feminine, more like me, I just can’t shake that asshole from my head. This,” she held up a thick string of hair, so close to just yanking it from its root,“ is because of him. Whatever the hell it was he did to me, this was the result.”
’That’s not true’. That’s what he wanted to say at the moment. To tell her as he wordlessly grazed his hand against hers. Yet the words didn’t escape him. He couldn’t lie to her like that. Couldn’t put himself in her shoes to figure out what exactly happened. She knew better than him. She was there; he wasn’t. Silently reassuring her was the best he could do. To offer his hand as he stepped back and looked her over.
That was when the gears began turning.
“Well, what if we compromise on it? Cut it real short like you like it… Maybe leave some of the blonde in?” He watched her eyes snap to his face. Curiosity shone in them. “Ease ya into the idea and all.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. Jill could almost see it forming before her as she gathered a handful of strands and pulled them back, hiding them behind her head as her bangs fell into place. Seeing less had already made her feel more secure… and it wasn’t a bad color on her. Not for the moment. Perhaps not anymore. Fingers unfurled, and lengthy strands fell back into place.
“Yeah… Okay. Maybe a little bit in the bangs? Right around…” Brows knitted together as she leaned closer to the mirror. Her fingers grasped at the loose strands just above her brow. “Here?”
“I like it.” Carlos clapped his hands together, practically beaming as a hand gently tilted Jill’s upward. His expression softened, lips pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he got to work.
Scissors sliced through hair, quick to make work of the overgrowth and allow it all to pile on the floor by the former commander’s feet. Sections were pulled and set aside, though a tad lopsided, no thanks to the way Carlos’ head would tilt as he attempted to find the natural parts beneath the layers. It was rough, but it was an attempt. And not a terrible one, if Jill said so herself. She did. Practically leaped at seeing the vision come to life. Already, it had felt like the weight on her chest slipped off. She ran a hand through the short cut, sighing a heavy breath of relief at the choppy feeling of the underlayer against her fingers. Those same fingers made their way forward, moving alongside her partner’s to section off the small bit of bang that would remain undyed. She smiled to herself, peering at Carlos’ reflection and nodding. He nodded back, grabbing the box of dye to begin the next stage of their plan. Of course, even the included set of gloves didn’t stop either of them from making a mess of themselves. They shared soft laughs and playful teases, pointing out the splotches of brown that coated their hands. Jill was the first to begin the cleanup, wetting a rag and guiding Carlos to offer his hands so that she could scrub them clean. Their shared touches lingered, fingers intertwining as their lips brushed together.
Carlos smiled, then Jill. They kissed each other tenderly, hovering tensions dissipating as a comforting blanket of warmth surrounded the duo. Hands cautiously wandered along the other, tempting the other closer to savor that warmth. Jill gripped at Carlos’ shoulders lightly, attempting to distract herself from the building fire behind her eyes. The moisture building on her eyelashes. Carlos noticed the squeeze, drawing back just enough to ask if she was okay. She nodded, thanking him softly before pressing one last, chaste kiss to his cheek as she withdrew entirely.
Soon enough, idle chatter was cut short by the sound of a phone going off. The timer had finished, and Jill abandoned her post on the countertop to lean over the sink and rinse her hair. It would have been easier to shower, but she didn’t quite feel like kicking Carlos out of the bathroom just yet. So he stayed, helping her reach the back of her head and washing all the excess down the drain. He offered her a towel to wipe her face and dry her hair, to which she gladly accepted. For a moment, she considered simply keeping the towel there. Hiding herself from the reflection that eagerly awaited her. What if she hated it more? What if she didn’t look any different?
What if all of this was some sick dream? A faux memory implanted into her?
’No.’ She winced at the thoughts, shaking her head before taking a deep breath and removing the towel.
And before her stood herself. The Jill that awaited her was… her. She had that signature short, brown hair. Those focused eyes. And, a streak of blonde that only added to the inquisitive spark in her gaze. Beside her was Carlos, who seemed to beam at seeing the result of his handiwork. Lips curled into a bright grin, eyes squinting as he squeezed his partner’s arms excitedly.
“Well? Not too bad for a hired gun, huh?” He paused, leaning in to press his cheek against hers. “What do ya think, supercop?”
Her lips mimicked his, head bumping against his as she squeezed at his hand. She looked happy. At peace with herself again. And god, was it a beautiful sight.
“Could be more even, but I like it. It has that Carlos charm.” The pair laughed, exchanging yet another series of playful bumps and nudges. “I like it… Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Jill. You know that. I love you.”
“I love you too.”