She was falling.

She needed to save Chris; she needed to get Wesker off of him, as far away from her partner as possible. She knew what she was going to do too late; her body had already carried her halfway towards Wesker before her thoughts had time to register.

"No!" she shouted, throwing herself towards the two, determined to separate the two. Wesker held Chris aloft by the throat, his grip slowly tightening, and fist raised. "It's about time we finished this, Chris" he growled, smirking. Then, Jill finally reached him, the quick journey across the room slowed down by fear. She slammed into the side of him, causing his grip on Chris to slacken, and the younger of the two to fall to the ground in agony. Jill hooked her arms around Wesker's waist, pulling him with her into the window. What she didn't expect was it to shatter; though she didn't care. Putting distance between Chris and the enemy was her main goal, and falling into the chasm just furthered the two.

"JILL!"

She heard Chris' cry, but couldn't respond, as she was too busy grappling with her prisoner, and falling. She was falling. She was going to die.

The darkness perturbed Jill; and she felt strange. She felt like she was floating, yet restricted at the same time. Moving her fingers in circular motions felt peculiar, as they felt coated in something that was binding her, and she was terrified to open her eyes. A loud noise, tapping on glass shocked her eyes open, and found herself staring at fear itself. Albert Wesker stood on the other side of what appeared to be a thick pane of glass. Pure terror shot through her, causing her to thrash around in the glass tube, kicking off of the walls. Booted feet and purple, leather-clad legs obliged. Opening her mouth, bubbles escaped, her yells silent.

He smiled, the same smirk which she remembered he used on Chris when he thought he was about to destroy him.

"Jill Valentine, how nice to see you've decided to join us at last." His words echoed in the tube, not allowing her to escape him, not even the dull liquid providing a barrier he couldn't cross. Her wild eyes stared into the dark sunglasses, waiting for him to do something, say something which could cause her to understand how and why she was in the predicament that she was. His smirk intensified, guessing what was going on inside her head.

"You look a little confused, my dear. Well, all will be revealed shortly, as soon as I've gotten you out of cryostasis" He nodded to himself, gesticulating widely with his hands. Turning his back on her, he walked away, into the darkness. Darkness inked around the room, the only light glowing dully from the control panel next to the tube that contained her. Shouldn't she be drowning? Liquid enveloped her, yet she had no mask, no tubes. She floated in what felt like nothing, a cold nothing. She existed in a freezing void, suspended and vulnerable. It frustrated her, and she hit out at the glass again, silently screaming. Her balled fists slammed into the glass, echoing around her, trapped with the loud deafening bang.

If Jill had fallen asleep, she didn't notice. She opened her eyes, and the inky darkness had pooled around her, making it difficult to even see her hands in front of her face. Bubbles surrounded every movement, and she internally sighed, resigned to her fate. She was probably going to die. Wesker was probably going to murder her, or torture her. She didn't care, she just wanted peace. Her hands fell to her thighs, and traced them, feeling the bumps and curves of her "outfit". She was surprised by the feel of it, not that she was feeling it with her bare finger tips, as they were encased in leather gloves. She guessed that her entire ensemble was made up of similar material, as leather gloves just seemed too odd on their own. Her hands wandered from her knees to her thighs, and around to cupping her butt. The material clung to her lovingly, she noticed, as her hands moved up to hold each breast. Strange. She knew Wesker was into leather, it was obvious in his appearance, but didn't realise he wanted everybody to wear it too. She smiled to herself, and spun slightly, sending bubbles into frenzy. She giggled, muffled by liquid cushions. She spun again, her eyes heavy. She needed proper sleep. She needed a bed, and her friend. She needed Chris. She couldn't allow herself to miss him, but she wanted him. She needed him. She needed him to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright; and remove every inch of strange from her skin. Rubbing her face, she moved over to her head and stroked her fingers through her hair, which she caught at her ponytail. Untying it, she shook her head, and her hair fanned around her, and the colour shocked her. It was a pale blonde; even though she was a natural brunette. She started to panic. What else about her had changed?

"You have changed, quite a lot, Valentine" a voice snaked around her, the webbed darkness giving way to two figures, Albert Wesker and a female Jill didn't recognise. She was beautiful, but her face was filled with disdain. Her hair was brown and pulled up into a tight bun, a golden dress draped around her. Wesker stood in his usual black leather get up, once again causing Jill to wonder about her own outfit.

"You've changed for the better." The woman said, her accent exotic and piercing. She turned her back on Jill, and addressed Wesker.

"Don't we have work to do?" He nodded, half paying attention, half apparently mesmerised by Jill. He approached her, fear swallowing Jill, and she floated away from him. He faltered, and some of her fear left her. She was curious, and he lifted a hand and placed it on the glass.

"Do you want me to let you out?" he asked, softly, yet still with an edge. She nodded, transfixed. Her right hand lifted, contemplating meeting his. He smiled and turned away, facing the console. The other woman laughed, pulling Jill into a fog of confusion. What was happening? What had just happened? A soft hum drew her attention, as Wesker was apparently letting her out. Her prison shuddered; and she was surrounded by rushing bubbles. He wasn't letting her out.

She was drowning.