who felt those cold hands.

It wasn't unlike any other job Hunk had taken since the Raccoon City incident. While the company itself had begun its internal collapse since then, Umbrella had still been far from putting a halt on their hidden agendas. This time it was one of Umbrella's lesser known subsidiaries that had contacted him for a clean-up and extraction type of job.

A smaller scale research facility near a remote Italian mountain town had been unreachable for the past two weeks. Since they had been experimenting with a strain of the t-Virus purchased off the black market, Hunk's employers assumed the worst. The job was to clear the facility of any trace of it presumed deceased staff and retrieve the data on the experiments they had been performing, any and all information was too invaluable to leave behind after losing what they did in 1998. If any trace of the infection had reached the town above, they were to contact command and receive further instructions to cleanse. They would, however, be paid a handsome bonus if it came to that.

The only thing that did make it unlike any other job was the name of his partner who was waiting for him at his destination. Reading the dossier hours before, Hunk had almost gripped the paper hard enough to cause it to tear. Morgan Gray. It couldn't be that Morgan Gray. She was dead. Killed by William Birkin in 1998, that's what he wrote on the mission report when he was the only one to make it out alive.

Reading her name made Hunk ask what his employers had looked for when picking personnel for this job. They said they picked between a handful of mercenaries they had come into contact with, all with previous experience in similar environments as the one they would be sent to. When they asked if anything was wrong, he shook his head, grabbed his equipment and left. Until he could get himself a straight answer, he was stuck on a plane. Going was the only way to find out.

Sleeping on planes had always been difficult for him even with a lack of turbulence. Now he felt uncharacteristically restless, he didn't like it. It was unlike him. Had he not been heading to Italy specifically for a job as soon as they landed, he would have gotten a drink or two to help pass the time and calm his nerves, but instead gave the dossier sitting in his lap a few looks over.

Whenever her name appeared he'd say it silently to himself. Morgan Gray.

He knew her as Chemo back on Rockfort Island. When he had been informed by his superiors that he would be taking a rookie under his wing, he had been unimpressed to say the least when reading the document thrown his way on the new recruit. Daughter of an Umbrella virologist who up and joined the Marines, her father had pulled some strings and secured her a position to work within the Umbrella Security Service to keep her close and under surveillance.

Some spoiled rich girl going through a rebellious phase against her parents, was his first impression. An absolute waste of both his time and skill. But, that's why he had to be the one to show her the ropes. Hunk was the best of the best at Rockfort, it would be a real test to find out how committed she was to this line of work. If he didn't find her up to snuff by the end of the first month, she'd be out on the first transport back home.

Surprisingly enough to him, Chemo didn't disappoint during their first time sparring. Come at me, I'm not going to treat you like you're delicate, was what he told her right before she came at him with her shin slamming into his ribs. He remembered smirking at that. He also remembered that he hadn't been embarrassed when at one point she managed to get him on his stomach with his arm twisted behind his back, instead he thought 'Good'. The USS had a new worthwhile rookie on their hands.

Chemo wound up finding a place for herself at Rockfort, even managed to get a little rivalry going with Vector. There had been an ongoing joke among the rest that whenever things would get heated between them that they were only doing it to vie for Hunk's attention.

However, Hunk had managed to find his own special kind of camaraderie with Chemo throughout the 4 years they spent together within the USS. Near-death experiences would do that to you, but he didn't like what he felt at the time. Strong attachments like that were unnecessary, dangerous even...but, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief after the years when he'd see her walking down the barrack hallway when she got back from a mission. An injury or two, another scar; that was fine. What was important was that she came back alive, he never had to worry about that. He trained her himself, after all.

That was until Raccoon City.

Hunk had looked behind briefly only to catch Birkin effortlessly swipe her into the wall with that big steel pipe he carried. He didn't watch her fall the ground and lay there motionlessly, instead he ran. There was no time to even dwell on it then. The G-Virus was what was important. The mission took priority above all else, and if one of them didn't make it out, it'd be a waste of all their lives.

He'd never see her safe and sound, walking through the barracks again after that.

Suddenly, a gingerly placed hand on his shoulder tore him from his retelling himself his own memories. Or dreams? It was the flight attendant who woke him, turned out he had been able to doze off. In fact, he was the last passenger on the plane. Gathering his things, he rushed off the plane. His partner would be waiting for him outside as soon as he collected his equipment.

The strong sunlight forced him to squint his eyes as he looked for the vehicle described in the dossier. Black hummer. Tinted windows. And it was sitting just outside the terminal entrance doors, engines going. He approached quickly, and as he did the passenger door opened for him.

The very woman he recognized from all those years ago was sitting at the wheel. One hand on the wheel, elbow relaxed on the arm rest. Her long hair was tied in a messy braid, he always remembered telling her to cut it to get it out of the way. When she looked at him, he could see the faintest smile on her lips.

"Morgan?"

Hunk had never been one to be easily phased, but in that moment it was strange to be looking into the eyes of who you were sure was dead for the past 3 years.

Then she spoke.

"It's good to see you."

It was her, all right. He was at a loss for words upon actually seeing her now with his own eyes, hearing her acting so nonchalant about this whole thing. He wasn't sure what to even say. Good to see you, too? You look well? You look alive?

"What? You're not mad I didn't contact you until now, are you?" Morgan almost scoffed, still knowing after all these years how uncharacteristic of him that would be.

And that shut him up for the moment. All Hunk could manage to get out was a low grumble in response as he threw his equipment into the back seat. He honestly didn't know why he was feeling such a mix of emotions. It wasn't a feeling of betrayal or anger. He knew he had no right to feel any kind of betrayal, not like he went back to look for her during Raccoon City. He got the feeling that she didn't blame him either, not if she would go through the trouble to find him like this. She knew her survival had always been her own responsibility, and no one else's. He was the one who drilled that into her head, after all.

It more felt like he was mad these were the circumstances they were meeting under again. Still fighting the same threats caused by the company they had both worked under together. Still cleaning up the mess left in the wake of it all. Waiting for the next one after that, it was all inevitable at this point.

But, it was the line of work they both excelled at.

"Come on, get in. We can talk on the way to the safehouse," Morgan paused for a second, allowing for a hesitant sigh to escape under her breath. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."