Chris never knew the cold could feel like this – a wild animal sinking its claws into flesh - numb but still able to feel agony.
His mind felt slow, underwater, blue at the edges. The only thing he could feel the body of his Captain, skin to skin, allowing his heat to seep into Chris.
He cried out, distant. A huff of breath at his ear - you'll be fine you'll pull through just concentrate, Redfield, that's an order, you hear? An order - Chris concentrated; Wesker's hands on the flat of his stomach, his heaviness grounding him into optimism.