drabblewriter

Title: Promise of Safety
Fandom: Resident Evil (gamesverse)
Characters: Ethan Winters & Chris Redfield
Rating: G
Summary: Ethan's eyes flicker open, and he slowly lowers the violin and bow. Swallows emotion. “In that house," he starts, just the words, even now, making him tremble a bit. “In that safe room...there was always a song playing.” (Ethan tries to remember and play the save room theme.)
Word Count: 404

Ethan hasn't played for a while, but he's always had an ear for music. It isn't until he's finally released from BSAA custody, having told them all he knows, and Chris helps him move back into the house that he starts jotting down notes and pulls his violin out of storage.

He's at the kitchen table, eyes closed as he plays, trying to find the right notes. He's close, but his memory is imperfect. Perhaps...

"What is that? It's nice." Chris's voice.

Ethan's eyes flicker open, and he slowly lowers the instrument and bow. Swallows emotion. "In that house," he starts, just the words, even now, making him tremble a bit. "In that safe room...there was always a song playing."

"I read that in your reports." Chris sits down across from him, looking genuinely interested. "Was that it?"

"Sort of. I've been trying to remember the whole thing. It's..." Ethan's jaw twitches, a finger gesturing awkwardly, frustratedly, to his temple. "Things aren't exactly organized up here at the moment."

"That's trauma," Chris says gently. "More of it will likely come back."

Ethan manages a strained smile. He's not sure how much of it he actually wants to come back.

"Tell me about the song?" Chris prompts.

Ethan gives a little self-deprecating huff, fingers tracing the scrap of paper in front of him. "I could read you all the notes I do have, but I bet that wouldn't do much for you."

"Not a musician myself, sorry," Chris agrees.

"It was...nice, like you said," Ethan muses, letting his mind drift back as much as he can. "Sort of soft and slow. Melancholic but...comforting. I could never figure out where it was coming from, but that room, that song...I don't know. It almost made me feel safe."

Chris gives him a soft smile like he actually understands. "I'm glad you had that. I hope you find it."

"Thank you." Ethan's thumb drifts over his bow, liking the way it feels after all this time, something he can control. Something else safe.

"Will you play it for me again?"

"...okay." The word comes out uncertain, but Ethan does. He takes position again, like he never stopped playing, like he never put music down, and fades into it. The music flowing from him, around him, into him. That soft promise of safety, just out of his reach. He lets himself believe that he'll reach it again one day.