Okay, a very sweet and smart reviewer of Not Alone made the suggestion of rewriting the story from Chris Redfield's POV, so here it tis'! lol

hope i didn't make Chris OOC, lemme know k?

I Disclaim as usual :P

The crowd of white nearly made him dizzy. As the people recently freed from their glass prisons whispered among themselves in a confused and drowsy murmur, Chris stifled the soldier's instinct to start barking orders. His sister had it covered anyway; he could see Claire just ahead, gripping the girl (they called her K-Mart? He'd ask about that nickname later…) gently by the hand and lifting her voice over the masses to instruct them outside. He smiled slightly, a brotherly pride settling in his chest at the sight of his sister taking charge.

He wondered briefly if she remembered anything about their past yet, but thought it best not to push the issue. He blinked in surprise as she turned to look back at him, almost as if she knew he was thinking of her. He watched as she leaned down to whisper in the girl's ear, and K-Mart looked at him with a small smile. Apparently Claire remembered him enough to introduce him to her young friend…he was glad, and hoped things between them would become more clear in time.

He noticed that the crowd around him was dispersing….most of the people were on deck now, and Claire and K-Mart were making their way behind them.

It was then he realized that his sister's other friend, the mysterious woman he only knew as Alice was missing. When had she become separated from them? Feeling a strange sense of duty (must be the military training again), he decided to return to the bowels of the ship to look for her. In the darkness of the hallway, he turned, and realized he did not have far to look.

Alice stood alone further into the hall; head slumped forward slightly, eyes downcast, knees beginning to bend….

"Alice!" His voice echoed down the corridor, an unintentionally demanding tone in his call. She did not move, not the smallest twitch, and Chris knew that she had not heard him at all.

He started forward, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. The fight with Wesker was not easy, but he didn't recall Alice getting terribly injured. By her posture he almost pegged her for seasick, but….

He was only feet from her when her hand lifted to the wall as she attempted to brace herself.

He was only inches away when, in the dim light, he could see the shine of tears on her face.

And he was there when she fell forward almost unconsciously.

His hands automatically slipped around her frame to her back as he kept her from hitting the floor. A strange feeling of empathy struck him at the feeling of damp tears soaked through his shirt.

His training told him that she may be suffering from PTSD….it seemed to him she had certainly gone through enough to set such a disorder off. Or, it could be that Alice simply needed to vent. He found her entirely too quiet, too reserved, and even the toughest of people had a breaking point.

He shifted the woman in his arms a bit before looking down. His chin met the top of her head and he realized that her hair actually smelled good, like spice and the ocean. He shook his head. Ridiculous….the girl had nearly passed out on him and he was smelling her hair? He wanted to break his own nose for such behavior. Instead, he pressed his hands firmer against her back to gain her attention.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low and cracked slightly, and he knew it was likely from exhaustion. Alice did not respond, and he grew worried.

"Alice?" His tone raised and he felt her lips move against his shirt.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine, just….tired. I'm tired."

An unexpectedly strong feeling of relief hit his gut when she finally spoke to him, her own voice relatively clear considering her seemingly lightheaded state.

When the hell had he come to care so much? He didn't really know her….

She lifted her head to look at him, and he couldn't help but stare for just a moment longer than he thought appropriate before he broke eye contact.

"Everyone is heading outside. Maybe some fresh air will make you feel better?"

She nodded slightly, and he released his grip on her form.

An almost itch in his right hand brought it forward and up when he saw the last of her tears slipped from its home down her cheek. The act surprised him, as he was not one to make such bold physical contact with anyone, especially someone he did not know well.

Nevertheless, his fingers glistened with the salty remnants of her pain and he could not bring himself to regret the action. He did turn away, however; he sensed her confusion and surprise and did not have an explanation (or desire for one) at the moment.

Claire and K-Mart had waited for him at the deck entrance, their back turned from the scene.

Chris wondered if they had been eavesdropping.

Briefly looking over his shoulder, his lips settled into another unexpected grin as Alice followed close behind, her eyes meeting his and a noticeable pink tinting her cheeks.

He didn't care if they had.