Work Text:
Veronica could hardly believe what was happening. That the past hour of her life had even been real. This couldn’t have been the same Wesker she had gone to dinner with the weekend prior. She couldn’t have been so stupid.
He’d never been particularly…attached to her. The boundaries were blurred after her months with S.T.A.R.S., but she knew her body and time were little more than a pretty distraction. It had been a fine arrangement. Sure, Veronica had always wanted more, but they both got what they needed out of it. There were no expectations of loyalty, but she had never thought it would end like this. Wesker’s gun pointed at her head in the Spencer mansion, his voice ranting on and on about how she’d been such a good pawn.
She should’ve gone with Jill when she’d had the chance. But she’d just had to follow her Captain when he asked. He knew she would follow, no questions asked. It was easier for him to get rid of her, that way. And now, Wesker would kill her before anyone could come to her rescue, if they were even coming at all. Wesker seemed fairly certain Chris was already gone, and that Jill would be dead long before finding him out. Poor Barry. She couldn’t blame him.
Begging for her life would be a fool’s errand, now. Veronica’s fate had been sealed the moment she’d set foot in the mansion, if not from the very moment she joined S.T.A.R.S.. So instead, her mind wandered too far to follow. She wasn’t particularly aware, anymore- the sight before her feeling so removed from her reality that it may as well have not been occurring at all.
Wesker’s words were a jumble of sounds she couldn’t decipher, but he made it clear that he had asked her a question by the way he rushed her. The gun was held directly to her forehead, now. It was grounding in a way she couldn’t afford. He pressed it harder into her skull and the pressure threatened to tip her off balance. Veronica only stared up at him, eyes unfocused and empty.
She distantly recognized the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching the door. Wesker’s grip on the gun faltered for the slightest moment as his attention slipped away to the noise, too. The distraction was only momentary, and he quickly remembered their position, pressing the barrel back to her head with great force. He asked his question again, and Veronica was just barely cognizant enough to make the words out. At first, they churned slowly in her mind and Veronica could hardly believe that had been what he asked. ‘Did she have any last words…’
What a prick.
But he didn’t seem too inclined to let her keep her silence. Wesker never had been one to let her disobey his orders, after all.
If the situation hadn’t been so thoroughly fucked, she would’ve laughed. He expected her to cry and beg, but after all the nights they'd spent together? Veronica had learned from him the hard way. Begging never got her what she wanted. So instead, she remained distant and impassive, and responded with a simple shrug. “Why?”
She knew he wouldn’t answer.