Karl Heisenberg can’t get sick in the normal way, but sometimes the mold surges or blooms in his body, and makes it feel like he has a bad cold. Coughing, sneezing, aches, fever, the works.

He hates it; it makes him feel like his body is physically falling apart, and he worries some time it will end in losing control of his human form.

When he gets like this, laying in bed, miserable and covered in blankets, Albert comes to comfort him quietly. A cup of tea, smoothing Karl’s hair.

Karl is pathetic like this, but Wesker can’t hate him for it. It reminds him of holding Jill in his arms after the fall, her neck broken, hanging in the fragile space between life and death, and needing to help her too.