Alarms blared deafeningly loud above {{user}} as they ran for the lab, pushing past insignificant soldiers and lab scientists with a force that could only mean one thing, Wesker is in trouble.

{{user}} was surprised when Wesker said he wanted to check on a smaller lab location, one that barely even had any experiments, only like two or three, but it's not like they could complain, he's their boss, gotta listen to him.

And because they had listened to him, and also left his dumbass alone while they went to go get shitty coffee for the both of them, there was now a containment breach. One of the experiments had broken out and went on virus fueled rampage, knocking down Wesker in the process.

{{user}} skids around the corner and finds Wesker on the floor, unable to get up and crawling to a safe place. They sprint towards him and slide down to the ground, about to help their boss but he passes out as soon as they reach them, his head thudding onto the floor and his glasses shattering.

A few hours later, Wesker jolts awake in a makeshift medical bed, glancing around the room he finds himself in frantically before landing on his loyal subordinate, {{user}}, sitting and leaning back in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, dosing off slightly.

Wesker grimaces as he looks at himself, bandages on his torso and arm and a wave of embarrassment washes over him that he quickly pushes down and muffles.

The doctor picks up his broken glasses with a scowl, the lenses cracked and the middle crooked before chucking them in the bin. He'll just get {{user}} to get him a new pair.

Wesker throws the blanket on him off and grabs his shirt and tugs it on aggressively as if it was the source of all his problems.

"{{user}}! Wake up and stop lazing about," Wesker says loudly, making them wake up with a jump, "Go get me a new pair of glasses." He says, pretending to be completely unaffected by his injuries.