Disclaimer: Of course, all the characters belong to Capcom and whoever else. Certainly not me!

Chapter One

She hated to be alone now.

Even the smallest of noises in the night made her awaken with a start, and voices outside her door, no matter how friendly-sounding, made her scrabble for her pistol. It was getting harder and harder to sleep without fear of having terrible, vivid dreams of the horrors she had endured a few weeks prior: dirty, muscular hands eager to throttle her, the disgusting parasites that burst out of human mouths, and worst of all, the red, glowing eyes of a mutated Albert Wesker. These images had seared themselves into her brain, and although she could consciously force them away, it was in the throes of sleep where she would be assaulted, completely defenseless to them.

Sheva Alomar was no coward, but such horrors have a habit of haunting even the strongest of people.

This fear was the reason why BSAA Captain Josh Stone was in Sheva's apartment at two in the morning, his powerful body sprawled on her leather couch lazily.

"I should be going soon, Sheva," said Josh, stifling a yawn. "It's late, and not even a weekend!"

"What does that matter?" teased Sheva, giving him a playful shove. "We're both on leave anyway. We won't be on active duty again for another month!"

"That's true," admitted Josh. "And to be perfectly honest, I'm getting bored already! I wouldn't mind going back a bit early, you know."

Sheva made a face. "Late-night parties and drinks are way more fun than work. Besides, that business at Kijuju was enough action to last me a lifetime."

Josh laughed, looking at Sheva fondly. "You're still so young. Maybe when you're my age, you won't be so keen on the parties and drinks. You're right about Kijuju though…you did a good job there, you know."

"As did you!" said Sheva, nudging him slightly so that she could sit on the couch as well. There was a short lull in the conversation, where both BSAA agents' thoughts swept back to the unfortunate incident. Sheva broke the silence finally, her voice tentative.

"But…" she hesitated, her expression serious now, "But Josh, can't I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," replied Josh, beaming. "You know you can ask me anything, Sheva!"

"Do you think about the things that happened…there?"

Josh furrowed his brow and locked eyes with his friend, his face devoid of laughter now. "It's best not to. Dwelling on things like that can make any man go mad. Those things we saw…they weren't normal. Perhaps it's what you should expect from working for the BSAA, but all the same…don't think about those evils too heavily."

Sheva rose from her seat and poured herself a shot of vodka. Silent, she drank it deftly and toyed with the tiny glass, mulling over Josh's words. The pretty, young woman sighed finally and turned around once more to look at Josh, who was eyeing her with some concern.

"I don't mean to," she said softly. "But I have bad dreams…nightmares. I don't always have them – not every day. But when I do, they're awful, and they're more frequent than I would like."

"And how frequent do you mean?" said Josh, standing up also. He crossed the room in three easy strides and put an arm around the woman who he cared for as much as any blood-relative. "Have you seen a psychiatrist? I know this happens to some agents more than others, but it's not a good thing no matter what."

"A few times a week," said Sheva reluctantly, seeing Josh's face fall. "Won't I just forget? The fear has to wear off eventually."

"We all have dreams sometimes," said Josh slowly. "People that have jobs like us…there's no way we can get out of it all in one piece. Some people lose limbs, and others….they'll lose a bit of their sanity."

"Don't scare me like that," said Sheva, smiling, but inwardly she was worried. The smile did not throw Josh off, and he embraced her protectively.

"If you keep having the dreams, you must go to the doctor. In the meantime though, keep yourself occupied. Maybe the horrors will subside – I don't know. I hope so."

"Me too," murmured Sheva into his chest. She felt safe there, and for the second time in her life she considered kissing him. The first time had been soon after they had met, before they had developed a much more platonic bond. This time, she figured that the many alcoholic drinks she had consumed had something to do with it, but she didn't care. Chris Redfield flashed through her mind suddenly, followed by a sinking feeling that he was probably cuddled up with Jill Valentine somewhere in the States, and with that she made up her mind.

She looked up at Josh demurely, and when his gaze met hers, she put a soft hand on his face and lowered his lips to hers. Josh was much too bewildered to resist initially, but after a few seconds he broke away from the kiss and held her at arm's length, his face stunned.

It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive– she was a very beautiful girl, with a lithe, athletic body, smoky, sensual eyes, and quite a nice ass on top of it all. However, he had been her superior in the BSAA, trained her, looked out for her, and kept the lustful, younger soldiers at bay with his menacing presence. If anything, she was like a little sister to him, one that he wanted to protect from the world's evils.

But goddamn, that ass! It was enough to tempt a man. With a sigh, he forced himself from the inviting idea, and when he spoke, it was in a calm, soothing manner.

"Sheva, you've had too much to drink, and you're scared. I'll help you to bed, and I'll clean up here. You don't have to worry about a thing."

"I'm not drunk," protested Sheva. "And I'm not a child. Don't you want me?"

"You are incredibly beautiful, and you already have my heart," said Josh, looking away as Sheva slipped out of her halter top. "Now, stop that. You'll regret it in the morning. Please, Sheva," he pleaded, and Sheva stopped undressing, her expression defeated.

"Fine," she huffed unhappily, tossing her shirt on the floor. "It's alright – I can clean up and get to bed on my own."

"I will help," said Josh softly. The pair put away the used glasses and plates in an awkward silence, and when that was done, Josh made his way to the door, stopping briefly when his hand reached the doorknob.

"Sleep well, Sheva. You're a tough girl. You don't need me or anyone else, I know. But if you ever do find that you need someone to talk to, you know I'll always be here for you."

"I know," said Sheva tiredly. "And I'm sorry for…earlier. Goodnight, Josh."

Josh nodded at her and patted her shoulder before exiting the room. She watched him walk down the hall out towards the main door before closing her own and bolting it.

"What the hell has gotten into me," she said to herself aloud, making her way to the bathroom. At the faucet, she turned the knob to the coldest option, and was unusually irritated to find the water still fairly lukewarm. She splashed the water on her face nonetheless, allowing the droplets to trickle down her neck.

She dried her face on a fluffy, lavender-colored towel and collapsed on her bed gratefully. She was tired and her head was still muddy with the effects of vodka and tequila. Perhaps she would get through the night without any nightmares this time.

The young woman curled up on the bed and was soon dozing serenely.

Three hours later she was awake, her eyes bloodshot and her chest heaving as if she had been running for miles. The cat-like eyes of Albert Wesker flashed through her mind, the thought of his inhumanly strong hand crushing her throat made it hard for her to breathe even now.

She had to do something about this. The nightmare was not going to go away on its own.