Albert Wesker and the Hospital
Albert Wesker and the Hospital
Author’s note: Ponies. Ponies everywhere. We are indeed back in Equestria, should be interesting. I think I’m doing a pretty good job but let me know if I’m not... or if I am. I live for your feedback people!
Wesker groaned as his senses were overwhelmed by his awakening, the light felt like tiny blades cutting into his retinas and the ambient sounds of birdsong and distant ponies milling to and fro sounded astronomically loud to his sensitive ears. The sensation was unerringly similar to when he first recovered consciousness after his death, and with that precedent firmly in mind, he decided to ignore the world around him and settled for introspection.
How uncharacteristic of you, Albert.
Wesker frowned, what was that supposed to mean?
Ignore him Al; he’s just being an ass.
Wesker growled and decided to confront his situation, living inside his head was becoming increasingly irritating, even his internal voices were beginning to make errors of judgement. His surroundings were pure white, sterile and dull, which led him to conclude that he was in a hospital of some sort. He loathed hospitals. Probably because they reminded him of imperfection and weakness; after his ascension to the pinnacle of existence they hadn’t been worthy of his attention anymore. A god did not get sick or injured but now here he was, infirm and useless, it was enough to make want to trade in his humanity again. Certainly he would take another violent death if it meant he could avoid the indignity of being reminded of his own mortality.
That’s not normal, Al.
Wesker smirked, he aimed to please. Eventually, he managed to sit up in an upright position and ignore the pounding in his eardrums, as well as the disgustingly persistent taste of vomit at the back of his throat, it certainly wasn’t the most desirable of states to be in.
Understatement.
Natural light was streaming in through the window and illuminated the room he was in; it was a fairly basic affair: Crisp white sheets on a simple steel-frame bed, a pair of glasses and a pot of flowers on a pine side-table and a pissed-off megalomaniac with no way to occupy his time other than to wait for someone to visit him. Wesker sighed, how had he gone from being on the brink of establishing a new world order to throwing up outside a bakery and going to hospital?
Bad luck?
He decided to go with that, over-thinking it would just anger him and he definitely knew that he could do without an outburst here. Things tended to get broken or die when that happened... Or get broken and die. He resolved to divert his thoughts elsewhere and pontificated as to the exact time, it was still light outside so he assumed his little foray into unconsciousness, and enlightening discussion with Dark, had lasted a couple of hours. All of a sudden, Wesker heard voices approaching from the corridor.
“You say he was in here, nurse Redheart?” That sounded unmistakably like Twilight, the thought of at least having some company in this horrid building provided Wesker with a small degree of satisfaction though he was fairly certain that he would have coped without it. What gave him greater hope was the possibility that the lavender unicorn had brought a book to read, that certainly would pierce his inertia more effectively than any idle chit-chat. Feeling useless rankled with Albert Wesker, more so than pretty much any other embarrassment he had suffered. Unfortunately, this brought back unpleasant memories of the corneal abrasion which had resulted in his hyper-sensitivity to light. Wesker was only 15 at the time though his intelligence was still incredibly advanced; he had been considered a gifted child.
Not gifted enough to keep your experiments away from your eyeballs Albert.
When Twilight finally entered his hospital room with a pure white pony sporting a red cross on her flank alongside her, Wesker had worked himself into a strange mood, something which both occupants of the room noticed straight away.
“Oh, you’re awake Albert, how are you feeling?” Twilight’s tone was light and faintly teasing, causing Wesker to lessen his scowl, only slightly.
“Just fine, dear heart.” He folded his hooves across his chest, “I do enjoy feeling obsolete and sitting pointlessly in a pen for the diseased.”
Nurse Redheart clucked her tongue whilst Twilight hid a smile behind a hoof, “Now now Mr Wesker, no need to get tetchy, you gave us all quite the scare outside Sugarcube Corner. I’m Nurse Redheart; you’re just here to make sure that everything is just fine.”
Wesker raised an eyebrow, grabbing his shades from the rickety bedside table, “I assume saying that I am just fine will not be sufficient?”
Nurse Redheart smiled, “We need to be certain you’re alright, you were out for quite a long time.”
Wesker stroked his chin, “I was? Well, what time is it?
“It’s 7 o’clock, Mr Wesker.”
Wesker snorted, “A couple of hours are nothing Miss Redheart, certainly nothing worth confining me in a whitewashed prison for.”
Twilight jumped in to prevent the nurse from adding to her patient’s list of woes, “It’s 7 o’ clock in the morning Albert, you’ve been unconscious for over 12 hours. We were at your bedside up until about 10 but Nurse Redheart said you were stable and we should all get some shuteye. I decided I would visit you in the morning and... Here I am.”
Wesker grimaced, “It appears I am allergic to parties dear heart.” He cracked the joints in his neck, “I had my suspicions.” He examined the purple mare over the top of his shades, “I appreciate your concern but if losing my memory left me physically unaffected then unceremoniously depositing cake and punch into a bush was always unlikely to leave a mark.”
Twilight giggled then looked at Wesker askew, “you’re in an unusual mood today.”
Wesker spread his front hooves disarmingly, “Honestly Miss Twilight? I dislike hospitals.” He cast a sidelong glance at Nurse Redheart, smirking faintly, “No offence Miss Redheart.” The pure white earth pony sighed dramatically and ran a hoof through her bubblegum pink mane before smiling and waving the aforementioned appendage dismissively, allowing Wesker to continue, “You mentioned before that amnesiacs may recover memories from random stimuli?” At her questioning look he pushed his shades up to the bridge of his nose and sighed irritably, “Not as eloquently perhaps but you made the general point. Not all memories they recover are pleasant.” He looked around the blandly featured hospital room and thought of all the days spent testing his near-shattered vision, the excruciating pain he had experienced when disregarding his doctor’s advice for the first time and accidentally looking directly into one of the cheap bulbs without his glasses on.
Twilight noticed the increasingly dark scowl spreading across the blond maned earth pony and quickly sought to redirect his thoughts, “So, do you know why you were so ill at Pinkie’s party?” Perhaps that was slightly too quick, it was hardly a cheerier subject for Wesker to consider but it served its intended purpose.
Sorry to say it, Al but you definitely can’t tell the truth here, unless you want to stay in here forever with a nice strait-jacket thrown in for free.
“I’m not entirely certain.” He arched an eyebrow in the direction of the nurse, “I assume that’s why I’m being kept here, to ensure no relapse or possibility of contagion.
Nurse Redheart nodded, “I’m sorry to inconvenience you Mr Wesker, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.”
Wesker smirked, how idealistic, “Normally I would agree with you Miss Redheart but when the one is myself then I tend to think quite differently.
Redheart rolled her eyes, “I’m sure, Mr Wesker.” She started strolling towards the door, stopping briefly to address the pair of them “Twilight, you have about half an hour before I need to run some routine examinations on Mr Wesker.” The pink-maned mare then turned to Wesker, “Normally I wouldn’t say this to a first-time patient but don’t try to leave!” Wesker sighed and pretended to mull this over before giving a mock salute and settling down in the bed to prove his willingness to stay, causing Redheart to smile and shake her head before exiting.
Wesker was restless, it’s not like he was usually lazy but something about hospitals aggravated him and put him even more on edge. Luckily it was Twilight who had come to visit him and as the most intelligent of the ponies he had met since his impromptu arrival in Ponyville, she was capable of realising this. “Albert... you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but what was the memory that resurfaced when you woke up in the hospital?”
The former S.T.A.R.S. captain put a hoof to his forehead in contemplation, how much did he wish to divulge? He supposed that he could give the memory without context but that seemed as though he were confiding in her, an act which suggested weakness even to himself and that seemed intolerable. But despite her gentle approach, he assumed that Twilight would not take ‘no’ for an answer, she probably believed it would be healthier for him to express his feelings.
Don’t pretend you have any Albert.
Ultimately, he gave in, “Fine. When I was younger, I was a burgeoning chemist and I was taking part in a University level practical experiment... To summarise, it went wrong. I suffered a great deal of damage to my eyes and when they eventually healed, I was hyper-sensitive to light and had to wear darkened glasses.” He tapped the side of his shades, “Much like these.”
Twilight looked at Wesker sympathetically, which certainly didn’t help his rapidly disintegrating mood, “I’m so sorry to hear that Albert. I’m guessing your eyes healed on their own eventually?” Wesker nodded, that was close enough to the truth... he was hardly about to tell her the actual way in which his sight was fully restored. A small smile spread across Twilight’s face as she found a diversionary tactic, “So you used to be a scientist then?”
Wesker nodded, “So it would appear.”
“Then I’ll be sure to bring some scientific books the next time I visit, I’ve got a couple of the books from your saddlebag for you to read whilst you’re here.”
At least he could be pathetic, mortal and occupied, rather than just pathetic and mortal. “My thanks Miss Twilight; they will hopefully make the time spent here pass more rapidly.”
The purple unicorn’s grin grew wider, “It’s no problem, with all these excellent books I’m sure the time will fly by!” Wesker arched a cynical eyebrow, “What? It doesn’t hurt to be optimistic you know!”
Wesker barked out a laugh, “The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.”
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Somehow I believe that this would happen if weasker came to Equestria. Good job
Amazing work. Can't wait for the next chapter since Wesker is one of my favourite enemies.
Awsomefic is awsome.
Hey! I came here from FanFiction.Net and made an account here so I can follow you here too!
4.bp.blogspot.com/-hMtrisbkXkM/TdoQcf6AleI/AAAAAAAAADo/YKJUpwTKK40/s1600/Brilliant_00.jpg
Grand sir truly... GRAND!
312001
You sir have successfully incorporated one of THE most bad-ass personas into a show that is all friendship and rainbows.
GOD-DAMN TRACKED, MOUSTACHED AND THUMBED AND GIVEN A LINK TO GOOD VID.
The First
P.S. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXQoB_tjfOA
317808
And yet it took 21 chapters to get to that pic.
791242 I was too caught up in reading...
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
... but seriously, this is a really great fic.
Ok, now the sunglasses cutie mark makes more sense. At first I thought it was a bit weird, but now it seems fitting.
“The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.”
Truer words ever spoken.
Wesker barked out a laugh, “The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.” <- My way of thinking. Also, I'm slightly concerned. When I am left to my own devices, my mind sounds frighteningly like Wesker's. There's Critical, Joy (rarely speaks), and Reason, although I don't name them, but they're represented by characters in my head. Reason is myself, Critical is Twilight Sparkle (oh irony), and Joy is Kamina from Gurren Lagann. :P
1039020 You have three!? I've only got one and he's an annoying perv. A hilarious annoying perv, but an annoying perv nonetheless.
1039020
OBJECTION!
1039020
I have three voices in my head, the Smart one (Always let me think before i do something,he's 71% of my mind), Cynical, and Joy.
I also got the cold, calculist voice, it also appears way more often than joy.
Voices~
nice one!