Author's Note: Next chappy, and sorry the update is a day late. In any case, we're getting the foundations built, so it's getting on to the read and finding out. Enjoy! And please, any mistakes you find, tell me. This underwent several last-minute rewritings and I may have missed something. The game's afoot! xD

Disclaimer: The usual, or else this future trilogy would be true xD

I

On Wings of Steel

Don't you ever lose them

September 3rd, 2009

Williamsburg Bridge, Manhattan. 04:30 am.

There were a few people who thought that standing atop one of the cables of a bridge was an enjoyable experience. Wesker was one of those.

It had been another one of those sleepless nights for him, a night of bizarre dreams and, often, restlessness. It wasn't an unfamiliar condition, insomnia, but it had disappeared for him a long time ago; its return had been far from welcome. Whatever was bothering him was dealing a blow every day and even if he was certain of what was that bother of his, on the other hand he wasn't entirely sure. He could very well settle with the typical, his first excuse: the current situation, his vendetta with his nemesis, but that wasn't it. Not even that had caused him to lose what little time he had to rest, and not even his work. Voluntarily... well, that was acceptable; what wasn't was 'unwittingly'.

The moon was still up in the sky; another night would end, another day would start.. Time would go by, that day would end, would be left behind. But for Wesker, whose notion of time had remained unchanged by all past events, it was always night and it would remain so unless he put an end to his situation. It was no more an emergency: now, it was an obsession, his first one in years. Killing his nemesis before all this had happened had been a goal, but nothing to have meddled in his affairs. Now, and he knew this perfectly, it had to be tamed and restrained if he wanted to keep his feet upon the ground.

"I'll get myself back and fight this, because I refuse to be like you."

Wesker chuckled at the sudden flashback. Not so brave now, are you? You'll soon realize how much you've longed your whole life to be that insane... and how much you want it to stop. I'll make it stop for you.

For a moment, he chastised himself for all this thinking. This had been his first chance to get away from everyone in a very long time and here he was, wasting it on thinking and musing that would only make his restlessness spike. With that attempt to clear his mind came Jill, that whom he had tried not to think about for the longest of times. Just the mere thought of her unsettled him, stirred something strange within him, and many had been his attempts to stifle it, to scatter it like ashes into the wind, but to no avail.

What would she think of this?

"What she thinks is of no importance now," he told himself, shaking his head.

It's not fair for you to say that. You should know she trusts you now and she hasn't misplaced her faith.

"Nothing's fair these days, unfortunately. She has no say in this; she's got no control over me." He sighed. "But if that's the case, why is it that I myself have no means to keep everything under control? I should be calm, undeterred, but nothing of the sort happens. Perhaps with time..."

Or perhaps not, but who knows? It's a bit early to decide yet. Mhm, that's the thing of having fallen in love with her: limits a lot of your decisions.

With that settled, Wesker leaned back against the cold metal and kept staring on ahead.

He knew what he had to do.

–

It was one of the few times that Leon felt truly overwhelmed by the tension around him. He was definitely not the kind of guy to take everything lightly, to give things the importance they didn't deserve, but he needed to have his head clear and put his thoughts in order. The part of the night he'd already slept through hadn't helped his thoughts to settle down; as if he'd gotten no rest at all. And so, trying with all his might not to call Claire's attention, Leon slipped out of the room and headed at full pelt for the roof, wishing he had wings for the umpteenth time. After a small set of stairs and a fast ride on the elevator, he was there.

But he wasn't alone.

The same moment he opened the door, he found Jill with her back to him and he froze in his place, thanking the good oiling of the door's hinges. His breath hitched in hesitation; luckily, she hadn't noticed him... yet. For a moment he remained still, thinking of whether to approach her or not. Leon feared his presence would disturb her, would cause her more damage than the one she'd already taken, and with resignation he left the door ajar and turned his back to it. It was impossible for him to feel what she was feeling -and even try to feel it-, something that left him more in the dumps than he already was.

He hadn't even a spark of altruism in him, but knowing that there was nothing he could do to palliate her pain was more than frustrating. With that frustration looming over him like a black cloud, Leon started to walk down the stairs when-

"Why're you leaving?"

Jill's voice made him jump and so bad was his luck that he misplaced his foot and literally turned his back to the stairs, nothing to help him gain back his balance. His stomach knotted up, everything going to fast to do something about it, until it was Jill that reached forward and firmly grabbed his arm, pulling him upwards. It gave him enough time to bring his feet down to the ground again, and then it was over: thanks to her, he had avoided a serious fall. Heart pounding in his ears, Leon stared at her, catching his breath as she did the same, and was the first one to notice their hands were still within each other's. Not harshly, he recovered his wits and lowered his arm, chuckling between breaths.

"Good God, I'm sorry, Leon," Jill began to apologize. "I don't know what's wrong with me but-"

"It's alright, no fusses," he replied, cutting through her words. With a final smile, he added, "I've had worse." He climbed back up to the landing of the stairs, placing himself next to Jill. "And replying to your question, I didn't want to bother. I didn't know you were there, but I decided to leave... just in case."

Jill's face changed slightly, letting on a bit more of her previous emotional state. "Oh... Heh, I'm okay... so far, so good, I guess. Don't ask me what I'm doing here; I don't even know myself." She returned outside, having exchanged a sad look with Leon, who was deeply moved by such sadness. He had seen a fair amount of it in Claire's gaze many times, but none so intense as Jill's. Claire had changed for her own sake -and she was in all her right to do so- but it seemed Jill was still unable.

Leon followed behind her, keeping his distances once more and paying attention to her. "Do I need to lecture you again?" In that moment, he bit his tongue: patronizing, maybe?

But Jill merely laughed, the sound faint and forced. "No, it's not necessary. I was thinking about that, too, in fact. I have a bit of sense of déjà vu."

"Oh? Surprise me; what kind of thoughts roamed your mind? Of course, if you've made a vow of secrecy, then I'm nobody to make you break it."

When he came next to her, his smirk was met with a smile of hers. "What's gotten to you now? You sound a bit more light-hearted than usual," she said, quirking an eyebrow. Leon shrugged, taken by surprise.

"Look, I'm being completely natural here. I'm not going to rub salt into the wound just because I feel like it," he replied, looking at her.

She chuckled, bitter. "I know." Jill sighed. "I suppose I should thank you, silly me. You've been a good support these days."

"I'll do whatever helps, Jill, but," Leon told her, "nothing that means hurting you again."

Jill's face fell into a frown, not taking her eyes away from his. "Everything hurts now, Leon," she said pointedly. "No matter who I look at, Chris always comes to my mind, and it hurts. But..." Her tone changed after her next sigh, "I can't blame it on all of you. It's just a matter of getting over it, that's it... I don't know if I can, though."

Leon pursed his lips, thinking of what to say next. She was more than right. He measured his next words with a teaspoon. "You mean getting over it and changing yourself in the process?" Jill perked up her head at him, eyes wider than before. Her shocked silence prompted him to continue. "I've known a few people who've done that and unfortunately, I lost them to time's passing." He closed his eyes. "Claire's somehow going down that lane, though she's still herself in many ways. You heard what she said about her disposition until all of this had ended... On the other hand, she has to do it."

"That reminds me of someone..." The remark wasn't supposed to lay some blame on him; Leon had a full understanding of who she was referring to.

"You mean him?" he inquired, gentle. He earned a brief nod in response. "I don't know him as well as you do, but perhaps I'm able to see the bigger picture."

"It's not perhaps; you can see it, in fact," Jill countered, firm. "You're not as knee-deep into this as we all are; at least, when it comes to Chris, me, Claire and Rebecca. Once you get too deep into something, you can't really catch the big picture. But you, you're different."

"He hasn't hurt me that much; I see the reason why," Leon agreed, "but I also worked with you to stop him. I was the one who let Chris know of the precedent of the incident in Africa with my report. Now, watching you and... and Sherry, it kinda gives a slighter different idea of who he is." Leon caught notice of Jill's surprised look.

"What's left you so surprised?"

"Nothing," she quickly said, recovering her composure. "J-Just... hearing you say that about... Wesker. It's caught me unawares, really."

Leon frowned at the mention of Wesker. "I don't have that much of a long history with him, you know that, but Sherry makes me... think. When I was a kid, I had a strong sense of what justice was... but that was just relative. My justice would be to put an end to all evil; the justice of those who spread it would be to keep doing so. Sherry told me about that with another example. It was nothing that changed my beliefs radically, but something that opened another door.

"Sherry told me that she would've most likely taken revenge for what happened to her family, to everyone she knew, but she refused to. Something I've see in her is how much of a realist she is, not to mention her practical mind. She doesn't see absolutes; she never has."

"She once said: 'We're not black or white; we're always gray'. I've realized what she meant with that."

"We're neither sinners nor saints," Leon agreed, shrugging. "I myself could've taken the wrong lane, considering my family's history, but I didn't."

"Your family's history?" Leon noticed how tentative that question had been, but also the curious undertone in it. Since it was something he didn't have to be cagey about, he agreed to explain himself.

"They were involved in Chicago's underworld, with drug dealing, I think. I don't know how deep they were in the business, but it didn't end up well for them. I lost them when I was in high school."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry," Jill said, downbeat.

"No big deal; I was left peachy," Leon added with a bit of sarcasm. "But it was after that event that I realized that thinking my parents were 'good', to put it like that, was wrong, but thinking about them as 'bad' would also be. From then on, I've had an open vision of the world. I know how to difference those who spread evil because of greed and those who spread it because of revenge and everything it implies. Sherry told me something similar about her parents; it was completely understandable."

"Looks like you've gotten on well with her, eh?" Jill asked, a bit more chipper.

"Sure," Leon spoke with a nod. "I can barely see the girl I met all those years ago, running from danger and clinging to us; she's someone else entirely. She's got mother's determination... not to mention a bit of a short fuse." Jill laughed at his remark, so did he. "She's one of the closest people to me and perhaps because of that closeness, I'm learning to see things another way. I really don't know why, though."

"It's silly of me to think this, but it somehow relieves me to hear you say that," Jill said, looking up at him with a faint smile, one Leon returned.

"Not everyone can share one's own point of view but it always makes you at ease to see someone does, right?" he asked back kindly. "I understand that kind of feeling, Jill."

"I just wish Chris would've understood me."

Leon hardened his features a bit. "He will with time, trust me. If I were him, I wouldn't have reacted any other way."

"C'mon, with his rashness and all that?" Jill exclaimed, dumbstruck, and Leon realized he'd phrased his reply wrong. He raised his hands in defense.

"No, no! Not at all! That's not what I meant to say, sorry," he apologized, then sighed. At the same time, Jill released a shaky breath, color returning to her cheeks. "I never thought Chris to be very... open-minded, to put it like that; then again, I haven't gone through what he has. It's difficult to change, that's for sure, but that doesn't involve taking it to extremes like these."

"I see your point," Jill agreed, then chuckled nervously. "Sorry for the outburst; perhaps I'm a bit touchy lately."

"No worries. He'll be back with us." His words didn't seem to cheer Jill up a single bit. A pause, then Leon said, "I'm going to be practical and blunt: it's not a promise I can keep by myself."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if I'm convinced and you're not... it's like with statistics: the art to lie with numbers. If you consider it like a mathematical problem, then..."

"Hm, I guess I get it. Heh, you worry completely, I don't worry at all: statistics say we're both worried at fifty-fifty." Jill nodded.

"I know that, Leon, I know we're all determined to get Chris back. But for some reason, I can't help but thinking it's already too late. You've seen him; he's..." The rest of the sentence never left Jill's lips.

"It's never late, not until you decide it yourself," Leon pointed out, meeting her gaze. For a moment, he thought of making another approach: when he put an arm around her shoulders, she didn't flinch nor move away. "There's always a choice... but there's not always the choice that keeps your head on your shoulders. Don't take that by its literal meaning, by the way; I'm just saying."

"And I understand, Leon. Thanks."

Leon managed a smirk. "Sure."

Then, something Leon would've never expected: Jill leaned in against him, making it seem like a half-hearted embrace, but Leon could tell by the way she settled next to him that she had needed it. And so, he pressed her tighter to him, being of as much comfort and support as possible despite knowing nothing would be able to close Jill's wounds until it was Chris who was in Leon's own position... perhaps even Wesker, who Leon hadn't forgotten about. A curious thought came to his mind: "Better get away from the wrath of a betrayed woman". Leon chuckled inwardly: Jill wouldn't lose her marbles so quickly.

He just hoped he wouldn't disappoint her.

–

His sister wasn't there with him, and Vithar missed her terribly.

He had tried to get Chris to talk to him about her but his answer would always be the same: he knew nothing about her whereabouts. Same thing had happened when addressing Marco, but his answer had been a bit more positive: she was being searched for. Still, it did nothing to console him. Vithar had cried himself to sleep many times, mourning a sister he indeed thought lost, and the price for his tears was too high: he was left paralyzed, weak, every time it happened, and Marco was never there for him. Vithar didn't need him to be; his master was not to be disturbed when busy and if there was something Vithar knew that was more of a flaw than a virtue in him, that was modesty.

Freya...

Her name triggered more tears in his sapphire eyes, but the unbeatable sadness that had seized him all those times didn't return. Vithar was scared to think his tears were hollow, that there was no meaning to them, that crying for Freya was pointless. With that fear lingering, Vithar shrunk tighter, gripping his pillow with almost incredible strength, and buried his face in it. But then, Vithar started crying once more, which made his legs go limp and his shoulders sag. It was a horrible feeling, but a medical condition he couldn't remedy.

"Crying again, Vithar?" called a voice. Vithar knew whose voice that was. Without looking up, he nodded. "I lost a sister, too; you know that, right?"

"Yes..." Vithar sobbed, lifting his arm with a strong effort just to dry his eyes. "I know. I-I miss Freya... so much..."

"Do you want to hurt those who took her away?" his companion inquired suggestively. Pain; such a familiar concept for him in all ways possible. Vithar himself had inflicted it upon other children he had met in the past, had been scarred by what killing innocents implied. Pain was what he wanted to escape from, no matter the cost, be it self-inflicted or not.

"Hurting them would mean hurting you... and I don't want to do that," Vithar replied, blinking several times. "I've done that a lot of times in the past... It n-never gave a good... good result."

"I know. It also happens with me: I would have to hurt someone I trust to get my revenge, and that's not what I want. I'll help you get her back, I swear."

The prospect of revenge had never appealed to him, but no desire had even been stronger than that of getting his sister back. Freya was the only person he had in the world to show love to, nobody else, and losing that would be like losing his heart. Vithar looked up this time, having found some degree of hope in his companion's words. All of a sudden, Vithar felt a rush of energy, rush that helped him climb out of bed and approach him. His efforts were rewarded with warm arms around him, instilling in him the same hope his words had before. For the first time, Vithar didn't cry.

"Trust me, Vithar. I can help you."

"How?" asked the boy.

"In whatever way possible. I know your pain, I know what you want. I wouldn't like you to suffer what I have after losing the only family I had left."

"Thank you," Vithar smiled, asking greedily for support from that embrace.

When he received it, Vithar also received calmness and strength to hope, for he knew he wasn't alone anymore.

–

02:30 am.

Florence, Italy.

Maria Greene had never felt so paranoid.

The prospect of taking her usual shortcut to get home had never looked so dismal. Despite the streets were still full of night-life, people going to and fro without noticing her, Maria felt like she was alone with so much as her own shadow... which she never trusted. She walked with almost deliberate slowness through the crowd, looking everywhere as the chills than ran down her spine got the best of her and made her lose focus on what really mattered: now, getting home was her only objective. The streets were hostile and she was afraid somebody would jump at her in a matter of seconds, but not just someone. Maria had the persistent sensation of being watched by a certain someone, despite not knowing who that was... or did she know?

A part of her mind told her off when she turned right and entered a set of dark alleys, another told her she was doing the right thing: getting home was now an order to be carried out at all costs. The sounds of the street gradually faded away into nothingness, leaving her with silence and insecurity as her companions. Then, out of instinct, she turned on her heels to check if somebody was following her; as a part of her expected, there was no-one there. Her confidence going slack, Maria turned again and kept on walking, only to start hearing the odd echo of her footsteps. She was wearing low heels and they never made so much noise... Somebody was following her.

The cock of a gun... dreadfully close to her.

Maria didn't hesitate, didn't even bother to look behind her: she broke into a frenzied run home. He was behind her, following her; she knew who he was. All of a sudden, she slipped; she was barely able to regain her balance after supporting herself against a damp wall. Tears came to her eyes as she understood: this was no usual murder attempt... it had been planned. She was destined to die and her killer's identity was more than obvious. Maria tried calling for help: first, none would come; second, her voice was literally stuck in her throat, unspoken words reflected in eyes nobody could see. She was tempted to stop and look back; she hadn't even decreased her speed when her pursuer caught hold of her hair and stopped her run, foiled her attempt to escape.

Maria yelled out as she was thrown to the ground, bumping her temple against it. Her vision swam before her eyes as she moved, turned slowly to face him, and even in the darkness she recognized his face. It was ruthless and impassive with a dark glint in his eyes, a glint she had seen many times before. He didn't move, only watched her, and Maria didn't fight anymore.

"You've... c'mon, kill me..." she breathed out between heavy pants. She didn't list the reasons behind her next chuckle. "He sent you, didn't he? That haughty son of a bitch..."

Her words never seemed to reach him; they just triggered a light shift of position from him. Under what little light there was, Maria made out the silhouette of his sidearm, which he was gripping tightly in his right hand... locked and loaded.

"Just do it already..."

"Are you so impatient to die, y'old buckaroo?" came his unexpected question. Maria had the unsettling feeling that she had just won some time... "Fine by me."

She gasped... and nothing more.

A/N: Aha! Yet another moment of ambiguity in Vithar's fragment! Whoever may have that been? I'll let you decide and interpret, because it gets a bit more complicated from here on with other plans and such.

Oh, and for those that are interested, there will be a (stupid me, but anyway) "Great Mouse Detective" oneshot coming up after this update. For those who consider the movie to be both a Disney and childhood classic, you're all welcome to read it xD

Reviews on this are appreciated!^^