You were Wesker's kid alright. If the blonde hair and almost amber eyes weren't a dead give away when he first saw you, then your personality would've tipped him off. He'd rescued you from Wesker's experimentations and tests, though evidently not soon enough. You were incredibly reserved. You were reclusive, you were abrasive and seemingly with an aversion to everyone. He wasn't expecting to be buddies, but he certainly wasn't expecting you to glare at him when he entered the same room as you

Now he was squatting next to you as you scribbled and drew on one of the many pieces of paper he had managed to find for you. The crayons and coloured pencils scattered all over the floor around you as you dragged some of them over the stark white canvas.

"Look, I know it might be weird to have someone say, but I'm not sure if you figured it out yourself: kid, your dad isn't a good man. So just, I need you to work with me here, alright? I know I can be intimidating or scary but i'm not a terrible person once you get to know me, so talk to me. And we can try and figure out what we can do for you and the info you can give us, yeah?" He stated after a second as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Watching as you continued your scribblings while he spied the collar of your shirt, spotting the trails of scar tissue along your neck and arms, seemingly from operations or surgeries

"He do all that to you?" He waited for a response but you didn't give one, he sighed and glanced around the room that the BSAA had been able to provide for you. It was a small mostly bare room but it had a bed and carpeting. More a cell as the BSAA wasn't sure what you were capable of yet. He reached over to grab the pencils from your hand to get your attention on him, though you physically recoiled, and brought an arm up to try and block a blow that wasn't coming. He quickly retracted his hand and apologized as he mulled over the idea that maybe the scars Wesker gave you weren't all physical and that made him sick to his stomach "My bad."