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Ethan Winters, and his wife Mia, drew up beside the house in the middle of the completely ordinary street. There were some kids playing with dogs down the way, but they stayed away from this house and its slightly overgrown lawn. The house itself could use a bit of a wash, but nothing else was out of the ordinary. Even the color was a basic blue. Ethan got out of the car and headed to the trunk, where Mia’s famous crockpot mashed potatoes were waiting, cooking with the help of his car’s internal electrical system. He got them out, making sure to avoid the motorcycle propped up by another car.
“This is it,” Mia said, checking the address on her phone. Ethan walked over, holding the crockpot in his bare hands while Mia checked to make sure she still had the bottle of wine in her purse. “Are you ready?”
“Well… I haven’t gone to a dinner party since Louisiana, so I hope this one is different.” Ethan replied. He felt Mia reach over and rub his hair a bit. “So, how do we look?”
“Completely normal,” she replied and walked up to the front door. She rolled her shoulders and knocked.
A woman, probably about Mia’s age, opened up the door. She had her brown hair pulled back and was wearing a red T-shirt.
“You must be Ethan and Mia,” she said. Ethan gave a nod. “Welcome, welcome. Chris! The Winters are here!”
“Come on in!” Chris said as he appeared behind the girl. “This is my sister, Claire.”
“Pleasure,” Mia said, shaking Claire’s hand. “I’m very happy you invited us.”
“Well-” a new voice piped up. “You survived a special outbreak. We survivors try to get together once a month after that.” Another man walked into view, reminding Ethan vaguely of Leonardo DiCaprio if DiCaprio had decided to do action movies. “Leon, Leon S. Kennedy. Secret Service.” Leon said.
“Hi,” Ethan said. “Ethan Winters, uh, IT for a logistics company in Texas. This is my wife, Mia.” He lifted up the crockpot. “Can we plug this back in before the heat escapes?”
“Oh, right.” Chris stepped back a bit. “Leon, get out of the way. Ethan, we can plug that in back in the kitchen. Mia, the table is-”
“I’ll show her,” Claire said. She linked her arm with Mia’s. “So, how are you holding up? I was there in Raccoon City, so-”
Chris led Ethan through the house. The main room that they entered, a kind of sitting room, was filled with various photographs and other memorabilia. Most of them had pictures of Chris and Claire, both wearing jackets with rock logos on them as they jammed out in plastic guitars or playing swords with cardboard tubes. Claire was obviously the younger in these, barely out of diapers and wearing pink skirts and shirts. Chris was almost always in jeans, but Ethan could tell he had a dinosaur phase. But there weren’t any photos of them as older kids or hanging out with friends. Several other photos were of an older Chris in tactical gear with other soldiers. Claire had photos of her graduating college and one of her with a younger Leon and a small blond girl. Then there was a bit of a small hallway with doors leading off to what looked like a TV room, a basement, and a bathroom, and the kitchen was right after that.
As he got into the kitchen, Chris pulled on an apron that read “TerraSave” on it in rather plain black text on a white background. “Claire got it for me,” Chris said as he got in front of some pot that was bubbling softly. “After Racoon City, she went into reconstruction style work and saved people after a BOW attack. I am… more proactive.” Chris gestured to a counter by the fridge. More photos were on there, mostly Chris with soldiers or police officers but a few were of Claire dressed professionally or relaxing somewhere pretty. Leon and a brown-haired woman Ethan didn’t recognize sometimes made an appearance and one other photo had Chris and a black woman, looking exhausted and covered in soot, getting off a helicopter. There was also a postcard from a place called Kijuju in West Africa. “I got sent there by the BSAA,” Chris explained. Ethan decided he should plug in the crockpot before he got too nosy. “That was… something.”
“I can imagine if it was anything like mine,” Ethan replied. “I just want to check, no mushrooms?”
“Nope,” Chris replied. “I’m sorry we got in there so late, I can imagine it wasn’t that pretty going through that.”
“They had a dinner and it’s been weird,” Ethan said. “It smells really good here. Do you cook a lot?”
“I should cook more.” Something began to beep and Chris hurriedly turned around and began to stir a pot. “Sorry to bother, let me let you get back to your cooking.” Chris gave a nod and Ethan retraced his steps back to the main room. As he got close, he tugged the left sleeve on his jacket. When he got to the living room, Leon was holding a glass of Mia’s wine and leaned over the table, the hand holding the glass gesturing wildly.
“So, as I’m walking through the police station, what do I see but that giant Tyrant walking towards me. So I shoot at it, and it hits its hat and what does it do?”
“It starts chasing you?” Claire offers.
“IT STARTS CHASING ME!” Leon said. “I mean, it’s not like the Las Plagas or the C Virus but-” He cut himself off as he watched Ethan walk into the room. “So, what’s your story?”
“Oh, uh...” He glanced at Mia, who gave him a subtle nod. “Well, Mia here, she had disappeared a few years ago and I got an email telling me to go visit this location in Louisiana of all places.” Leon sat down, a very intense listening look on his face. Claire instead leaned back, as if she had heard some of it before. Possibly from Chris. “Turns out she was being held by some victims of a, you call them BOW I guess, and was being turned into one herself. I managed to get us both out, and a girl named Zoe, but honestly, I’m done with adventures.”
He had kept some stuff out, mostly what Mia had been doing there in the first place, but they weren’t privy to that information. Nor should they be. If Claire knew anything, she wasn’t saying.
“Well, if you are invited here, that may not be the case.” Leon sighed. “Wait, you said she had been turned, how? She’s here. Is she cured?”
“People there got turned into mold and got under some mind control?” Ethan offered, trying to figure out how much to say.
“I was forced to cut off his hand,” Mia said, hiding her face in her own hands. Ethan sighed, and pulled back the left sleeve, revealing the fact his hand was still stapled to his arm. He quickly wiggled and bent his fingers, to reassure them he had full use of his hand.
“She’s cured now.” He reassured Leon. “I swear.” But Leon could not hide the grin growing over his face.
“Your left hand comes off?” He asked as if he was a child finding out about a secret stash of candy.
“It came off, once-” Ethan tried to explain.
And it was very painful.
But before he could go farther, the doorbell rang again. Claire got up and opened it, revealing a very tall brunette woman. Ethan recognized her from the photos.
“JILL!” Claire squealed. “Welcome! Hi! Chris! Jill’s here!”
“Finally!” Chris came out of the kitchen and walked over to the woman, who gave him a quick hug. She pulled a veggie platter out from a bag on her arm and turned to see Ethan and Mia sitting at the table. Both gave a quick wave, Ethan hurriedly pulling his sleeve down again.
“You’re new.” She said. “Hi, Leon.”
“HIS LEFT HAND COMES OFF!” Leon repeated.
“I’m Ethan Winters, and this is my wife, Mia,” Ethan said as he stood up. He held out his right hand for her to shake, which she did so professionally.
“The Louisiana mold incident?” She asked. Ethan gave a nod. “Chris told me about that. I’m sorry it was so much trouble for you.”
“Ethan did amazing,” Chris said as he looked over the vegetable platter.
“Thanks,” Ethan replied. “I, uh, got an invite from Chris last week and all it said was "come to dinner" so-”
“Right, right. I’m Chris’s old partner from STARS in Raccoon City.” Jill said as she walked over to the table. “Chris, I can smell your food burning.”
“Crap!” Chris ran back to the kitchen. “Why do they burn so easily?!” Jill shook her head.
“Pleasure to have you here, Ethan. Welcome to the survivors’ dinner club.” She said. “Do we know if anyone else is coming?” She asked Claire.
“Let’s see…” Claire muttered. She began to tick things off on her hand. “Barry is out looking at colleges, Shiva’s trying to come today, but last I heard she was running into issues at the airport and may be late. Jake and Sherry are in Bhutan for some reason. Helena is on duty. Rebecca is giving a talk in New York and said she would try to come next time. Carlos got an assignment and is in Sao Paulo-”
“He’s working for Blue Umbrella now-” Chris shouted from the kitchen.
“Stop burning dinner!” Jill yelled back.
“And we still haven’t figured out how to contact Ada.” Leon finished up. Mia’s head perked up slightly.
“Ada Wong?” She asked. “The mercenary?”
“Yes,” Leon said cheerily, then paused. “How do you know her name?”
“I, uh, met her once. At a conference.” Mia said quickly. Ethan stayed quiet, fiddling with his sleeve.
“Do you have her number?” Leon asked. Mia was saved from answering by Chris coming back in.
“I did not burn them, Jill.” He said as he placed dinner down on the table. It wasn’t too fancy, roast beef with Mia’s mashed potatoes side. A fancy salad came out too, along with what looked like homemade bread, grilled corn and asparagus, homemade gravy, cooked spinach, a dish Ethan didn’t recognize but smelt delicious, and a few other things, leaving a meal that had a lot of care put into it.
“Well, a toast!” Chris said as they all sat down. “To our newest members, Ethan and Mia. We hope you come back soon, and never meet a BOW again.”
Everyone clinked glasses and Ethan took a tentative bite of the well-done meal.
It was delicious. And the atmosphere couldn’t have been any different from Ethan’s first dinner with the Baker’s. Chris chatted with Jill about work and Claire popped in with incidents when they were kids. Leon asked about certain people that Ethan didn’t know. Mia and Claire swapped stories about traveling and Leon was kind enough to keep Ethan and Mia in the conversation by asking them questions. Chris even tried to poach Ethan to work with Blue Umbrella or the BSAA to help take down BOWs on the more tech side of the operation.
“Once was enough,” Ethan replied as he drank his water. Wine may be a standard dinner gift, but he wasn’t touching anything that looked like blood for a long time. Or mushrooms. Or bugs. Or that spinach. “I just want to be a regular person after this.”
Someone knocked on the door.
“Oh, must be Shiva,” Claire said as she got up. Everyone else waited for Shiva to appear. “Hey, Sh-” Claire said as she opened the door, then stopped. “Wesker?”
The air chilled around the table as utensils quickly clattered. Claire stepped back as a tall man dressed in black clothes with slicked black blond hair walked in. Everyone who would carry a gun automatically reached for one, and paused as they realized none of them had brought it to this weekly dinner party.
“Wesker… Wesker…” Ethan frowned. “Where have I heard the name??”
“It was in the newspapers.” Mia supplied, looking at this Wesker with confusion. “Something about a volcano?”
“OH, RIGHT! It was the idiot bioterrorist that died by falling into some volcano in Africa!” Ethan replied. “Must be embarrassing to be that guy’s brother.” He went back to his food.
“Wesker, get out.” Chris hissed as he stood up. “You are not welcome.”
“I’m not here for you, Chris,” Wesker said. “I’m here for him.” And with that, he pointed at Ethan.
Chris quickly moved outside of Ethan's field of vision.
“Me?” Ethan looked up and pointed at himself. “Why?”
“Because you, you are the perfect man!” Wesker replied, walking towards the table.
“I’m flattered, really, but I’m married. This is my wife, Mia.” Ethan pointed to Mia, who gave a tentative wave.
“We’re also expecting,” Mia said.
“Really?” Ethan’s face split into a grin and turned to her. “How long?”
“That’s not what I mean!” Wesker shouted, pulling attention back to him. “You are the perfect mixture of human and mold. The power of mind control, the regeneration, the physical prowess, the-” Wesker paused. “Do you really not know who I am?”
“Nope.’ Ethan said. There was a click of a loading gun behind him, from where Chris was sitting.
“Wesker, leave,” Chris said. “Or I WILL shoot you. Again.”
“You hold these dinners for every survivor of bioterrorism that you or your friends meet. That includes me. Besides.” Wesker pulled something out. “I brought food. Isn’t that part of the deal?”
Ethan looked over. “Is that homemade buttermilk pecan pie?” he asked.
“And homemade custard,” Wesker said as he walked over and tried to sit down between Ethan and Chris. Mia was on Ethan’s other side and kept glancing back and forth between Ethan and the pie.
“Are you trying to bribe him?” Mia finally asked.
“Never crossed my mind.” Wesker lied.
“How do you know him?” Ethan asked Chris as he took a piece of Wesker’s pie.
“He tried to kill us,” Chris said, his gun still pointed and face grim.
“Repeatedly,” Jill added in. “And controlled me.” Mia looked like she wanted to high-five Jill but stopped herself.
“And uses people for experiments,” Claire added in. “Leon hasn’t had the pleasure to meet him, but I have.”
“Ah, well.” Ethan pushed the plate back. “As delicious as this is, I must remind you that I decline.”
“Pity.” Wesker got up, and then Chris grabbed him, pulling his hands behind his back.
“Okay, Wesker, Let’s go.”
“I’ll call the president and Helena,” Leon said as he pulled out his phone. He turned to Mia. “Are you SURE I can’t get Ada’s number from you?”
“Nope,” Mia replied. And they all watched as Chris made Wesker sit, pouting, on his front porch
“You should mow your lawn,” Wesker said. Chris cocked his gun.
“I’m sorry about this,” Claire said as she turned to the Winters. “We thought he was dead, so it wasn’t that quiet for your first time coming.”
“Trust me,” Ethan said as he went back to the pie. “This was a much better dinner than at the Baker’s.”