Author's Note: My God, people, no updates since last year! Meh, probably most of you have forgotten about this, but I'm still determined to keep going with this. Basically, Writer's Block, and a huge period of it. Now, I'm back on my groov and ready to get to the kicker of this story, which is where we're getting now. Enjoy!^^

Disclaimer: Apply the usual here; copyright goes to Capcom.

X

Decisions, Decisions Part I

Haste makes waste

September 5th.

We're on our way to Venice. This all had better transpire quickly or so help me, I will make it so. I think I can't stress it enough: the bigger this gets, the harder my fall with be, but I can't break my word now, not now that we're so close. That would've undoubtedly been my modus operandi had I been in different conditions, but I can't afford to destroy the castle of cards. Not now when I'm this close to obtaining what I've wanted all this time.

Nightmares still haunt my dreams, but the information they give me balances out their bizarre and complicated nature, not to mention frightening. And it's not the content itself that unsettles me: it's the idea of having lived through such events. I've never had any recollection of such experiences; to think that I have forgotten so much… You never get to know yourself well enough. It is because of this that I have to find Alex Wesker, whoever they may be. They hold the final piece of the puzzle.

I've done some research on my own, but I haven't reached a solid answer. I have to keep trying.

X

September 5th, 2009

Venice, Italy. 21:15 pm.

Wesker finished reading his last entry, sighing as he closed his notebook.

It was somehow unbelievable, but they had been bound to progress: by little past nightfall, they had arrived in Venice; from then on, it was searching. It had also been almost two days without contacting Sherry; he was sure that no matter how professional she was at times, she would eventually freak out and worry. Getting back to her once settled in would be the best option.

He stared out the large window, where almost hundreds of lights illuminated the different runways of the airport. What information could Sherry have found about Alex Wesker? During most of their free time before departing for Zurich, she and Wesker had relentlessly searched for any kind of useful information. They had theorized that he (or she) had been either a subject or the person behind the project itself: there was no way of knowing. Sherry had also pointed out that William had made no reference whatsoever to who was responsible; his notes were about everything he knew and nothing else. Nothing else had come up: this Wesker was yet another ghost.

We are all meant to be that way. I myself wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my genetic conditions, and I would've been forgotten the same way the rest of the subjects were. Once we're dead, it's as if we had never existed.

"You're just one of Umbrella's leftovers."

Such trivial words from his enemy. In those moments of sheer anger and blind persistence, they hadn't even tickled his ego; now, in retrospect, Chris had truly hit a nerve, and Wesker knew it.

I haven't even had my own life, but how can I allow myself to complain? I've taken too much to surrender to the past coming back to haunt me; pitying myself is of no use. When all of this is over, I'll find out once and for all.

He had collected several newspaper clippings that contained information that, though slightly related, still made no sense whatsoever. One of them, from a 1960 publishing of the Morning Sentinel, one of Maine's most important newspapers, talked about an enormous fire in Messalonskee Ave caused by, or so reports had stated, the incineration of gasoline-stained furniture. The fire, as it was more than obvious, was intentional. The most important fact that was mentioned at the end of the article was that the family that lived there had already lost their son, who had gone missing merely a week prior to the fire. Why that event was familiar to him still escaped him, but Wesker had the kind of hunch he knew better than to ignore.

"Hey," came Jill's soft call; he knew better than to ignore that, too. He heard her chuckle as she sat. "That notebook's even fuller than the last time I saw it. Have you figured out that much?"

"Not exactly," he said, staring at the cover. "Sherry and I have been looking for certain information; this is what we found. Having it at hand helps me think."

But in lieu of a comment, he only heard silence. He glanced at her, found her frowning. "Staring for some specific reason."

"I've been meaning to ask you: have you kept anything from us?"

"Not yet," Wesker replied. "You know I always have something I won't share with everybody, but that's not the case now."

"Then why did you bluff?" Jill countered, picking up his pace. "When you said that Amanda had been too conspicuous; I could be wrong, but you hadn't seen that coming. Not any more than us, I'd say."

Ah, Jill, always so quick. When will you learn you can't dig into my business whenever it pleases you?

But instead of snapping at her, he decided to play along. With a smirk, he said, "But I didn't bluff, Jill; I would never do that. Remember I mentioned Sherry and I had done some thinking on our own? Aside taking some more leads into account, we also dug up some information on the BSAA the Consortium had kept stashed away. Really, you wouldn't believe how useful it was."

Whether I'm getting close to her or not, I still haven't lost my touch. I'll do whatever it takes to always be one step away from everyone; always.

Jill suddenly clutched his forearm and her frown deepened. "Then why didn't you tell us, dammit? We would've avoided all this trouble if you had!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth. It was the first time in a long while that he had seen her that angry. He couldn't blame her, but neither could he blame himself. "Just tell me why!"

After a brief pause, Wesker shook his head. "I won't; not yet. You'll know soon enough."

Jill hesitated, but she eventually agreed. "I'm definitely holding you to that, Wesker. If not, I'll pry it out like I did last time."

"It'd take you much longer that way, but I agree. I'll evaluate your persuasive skills once the interrogation comes," he said with a tinge of scathing humor he'd never thought he'd use again.

Jill didn't seem hurt, angry or indignant: her expression was serene, it was one of determination. But as he'd said, he'd be ready when the time came: he wouldn't speak so easily… not when there was so much at stake. But bringing up the topic seemed like the right choice to make: things had taken an unexpected turn with Allen's death and Amanda's considerable mood-swing.

"I take back what I said: I'm willing to oblige this once," he remarked, elbows on his knees. Jill shrugged, slouching slightly.

"Whatever you like."

"Wrong: you just need to know, don't you?" Wesker flashed a smirk at her, very brief though it still told her what he was thinking.

"Look, I don't want another misunderstanding, that's it," Jill said with a shake of her head, "but you catch me by surprise all the time; I can't believe it. I already had my suspicions but I never thought you'd keep things to yourself, especially now."

"I have every right to keep secrets, especially when people like them are around, and you know who I'm referring to," he replied, averting his gaze. Jill nodded slightly. "You know that if something gets out, I'll have no way to retaliate unless I completely see it coming. You're aware of how that feels, aren't you?"

"Sadly, yeah…" she uttered, her lips thinning. "You need to keep an image of who you are… but frankly, I don't see any sense to it anymore. Didn't we agree you'd cut yourself some slack?"

Wesker smirked. "You're patronizing me, beware." At his sudden remark, Jill fell silent and bit her lip in regret, but he dismissed it: she was right. Still, it was no easy task. The problem of being around somebody like her was that no matter what you, you could always drop your guard at any moment, and that was something Wesker couldn't afford. "And yes, we did discuss that, but it's not easy."

"I never said it was," Jill said with a brief smile. "Tell me, are you going to share some details or will you let me die of anticipation? Seriously now, I'm not joking. I smell something between you and Amanda, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Thank Amanda for being indiscreet enough," he scoffed, leaning back. "I had to bargain with her; otherwise, there was no way of getting them."

"Getting what, exactly?"

"Documents and information on someone I'm set on finding," Wesker explained as uneasiness seized him. "When I mentioned that 'extra work' Sherry and I had done on our own, I was referring to Amanda herself. Yes, we dug up profiles and even more documents the Consortium had hidden away; when I read about Amanda, I knew she'd be my only link to him… or her."

"Who's that you're talking about?"

"Alex Wesker." It felt odd saying the name. "I only know the name, but I have a hunch I've no choice but to follow: I have the feeling they've been involved in the project… perhaps they were behind it since the very beginning."

Jill was pensive for a moment, then said, "I remember finding a list of test subjects in Spencer's mansion back in England. There was an Alex on the list, subject number twelve. You were thirteen."

"That gives 'irony' a whole new meaning," Wesker remarked, bitter. "Then that tells me there were two Alex Wesker: one was the subject; the other, the 'creator'. What I don't know is which of the two Amanda's after… or I am after."

"Wait, Amanda's after Alex?" Jill inquired, perplexed. "Talk about a busy agenda."

"She had been… until you came up and were her main interest."

"Why the sudden change?"

"Their story's not too complicated, but it does make you wonder a lot of things," Wesker said, remembering what little information about them Amanda had given him. "Though she didn't say much, she emphasized her practically lifelong partnership with Keyes. Before they teamed up with the remaining branches of the BSAA, they, along with a small group of people, were a separate entity related to the agency itself."

"Well, with Oliver monitoring things, I'm sure it all went smoothly," Jill remarked, rolling her eyes.

"But when it dissolved, they were left adrift, so to speak. Not even the Consortium or the government knew about them, which obviously lent them the upper hand. You know the rest."

Jill grimaced. "You just opened another door. Anyway, whatever she's up to, I don't wanna know."

"I do, on the other hand. Either I dig or I've got nothing." He paused. "To get more data about Alex, I had to negotiate with Amanda: I traded his or her whereabouts for updates on Chris' state."

"God, she was that intent on killing him…" Jill whispered in shock. "I sure hope she's thought twice about it now. That's just crazy."

"You've just hurt my feelings, Jill," Wesker remarked, holding back a smirk. Jill's perplexed gaze met him.

"You're joking."

"I can assure you I'm not. Why else did you think I joined this little expedition? I may change my mind along the way, but right now my intentions remain steadfast: they never change, or did you expect them to?"

When Wesker saw Jill's countenance change, it reminded him of a distant but omnipresent moment: when she'd seen him alive once more. It was such a change… especially in her eyes. He'd never forget them.

"No… I never did."

In that moment, Leon appeared behind them and for once, Wesker found something to actually thank him for. He stood up, ignoring Jill's intent glare, as Leon said,

"It's all settled. We can get going."

Not for the first time, Wesker was glad he'd be spending some time away from Jill, but being alongside Claire would be like stepping out of the pan and into the fire. Perhaps prejudice was getting in the way, but he never let his guard down.

Tally-ho.

–

"You look more than ready."

Chris half-turned to the door, where he found Marco. This time, there was something wrong about the man, especially about his eyes: his grey hues had something to them that resembled worry, perhaps even disapproval. His stance showed nothing more than that, but in the most surreptitious of ways. Whilst he remained silent, Chris cocked his gun and holstered it, not taking his eyes off Marco.

"I'm not taking much. It shouldn't take long."

Marco pursed his lips, averting his gaze. "I see… They won't be far from here, considering that their better option was to remain as close to us as possible." He cleared his throat. "Listen, I'm also here to tell you that the cure is almost ready. Three days at the most."

Chris' heart skipped a beat. Would that mean he wouldn't have to…?

He-he wasn't lying! I'll be myself again!

Don't get your hopes up. You still have a job to do, remember?

Marco smiled, showing a line of straight white teeth. "You thought I was lying? No, Chris; I, like you, keep my promises. You've been far more useful than I originally imagined, and I'm not just talking about the tasks I've sent you on."

As Marco approached him, Chris grew stiff. The prospect of having been used again frightened him, told him to take matters onto his own hands, but he could see Marco meant what he was saying. Marco had never lied to him, not once, even about the most personal of matters. Why else would he have told him Vithar and Freya had been like his children? That he considered family to be the most important thing? Marco clearly was a man who didn't show weakness as long as he could allow himself not to, but as days had gone by he had shown more than Chris had expected. Marco trusted him.

"Why, then?" Chris asked as Marco stopped at arm's length.

"Think back two nights ago, when Vithar had his nightmare, and you'll understand why," Marco said, serene. He took off his glasses, pausing for a moment. "That other 'you' may have been, if you'll excuse me, screwing up your mind a bit further every day, but you've helped me see a lot of things. I suppose I should thank you. Vithar, on the other hand, has openly manifested his dislike towards your actions. He's changed, and he fears you'll end up like Freya. Though who are we to stop you?"

"He doesn't understand the reason why," Chris snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"And you do?"

Leave already! He's just tangling up things.

Before Marco could say anything else, Chris strode out of the room, inevitably thinking about Vithar. It was true the boy had influenced his life in some way, but that was no reason to be deterred. Vithar didn't understand, Marco didn't understand… nobody did.

I'm going to see this through.

But do you really have the guts, Chris? Do you really have the courage to point a gun at those who you love? You still cling to their memory, much to my dislike, but the lesson still has to be learned. Do you have what it takes?

Chris couldn't help a brief smile. Not yet, but maybe when I face them, I will.

Though that's not what I was expecting, that's the spirit. Say, who comes first?

He didn't know.

Silent? Heh, alright then: I'll make the decision myself. Ready to waltz along?

–

Manhattan, USA.

15:30 pm.

Two days.

Two days without hearing from Wesker. Sherry knew better than to freak out in that kind of situation: sometimes his absence could range from two days to months, even. But after she'd gotten such a strange call telling her there'd been a 'change of plans', Sherry couldn't help thinking it concerned him and the others.

God, I sure hope you're alright.

She was browsing again through the files she and Wesker had dug out, trying to find any other sort of relevant information. She found what they had found the first time: there was nothing more than that. Sherry knew how determined Wesker was to find answers now that most of his past had come back. Wesker's past was like a chest locked up with an unobtainable key; fortunately, it had finally been open.

And thanks to Jill, no less. It relieves me to see she's so set on sticking by his side. It's like she's not afraid of him anymore.

Sherry knew better than to question Wesker's feelings. It wasn't until a month after he'd taken her in that he started to open up. Back in that year, she was merely eleven years old; how could a child that age come to understand a man like him, much older and wiser? But as time went by and she learned from him, she also learned about him: he became her very best friend. Sherry became independent, stronger, and not because of the negative treatment she received; on the contrary, there was always something positive in what he said or did. Eventually, Wesker saw her as someone else, which was right what she wanted.

As such, she was worried to death. If something happened to him and it had been her fault, Sherry would never forgive herself. All of a sudden, her cell-phone buzzed inside her pocket. She picked it up without even identifying the number.

"Yes?"

"Now this is a nice surprise. Who would've thought you would pick up with all normalcy?"

"Well, hate to burst your bubble, but God am I glad to hear from you," Sherry said, grinning like a kid. "Where've you been? I've been worried sick since I got the call!"

"Oh, Amanda's?" Wesker chuckled. "A dreadful delay, but eventually worth it."

"So that's her name?" Sherry looked at the screen of her laptop and immediately laid her sight upon Amanda's profile. "Amanda Graves… Perfect, I've been an idiot not to recognize her. In any case, what did you find out?"

"For starters, that Amanda is after Alex Wesker, too. Something else that confuses me is that there were actually two Alex. I pray for the less important to be dead; that'd be convenient." Sherry could sense irritation in his last sentence: it was indeed confusing.

"Then who have we looked up?"

"I don't know yet. One was the subject, number twelve; the other, the chief of the project," Wesker explained. "I hope getting to Marco will provide some much needed answers." He let out a brief sigh. "I'll put you up to date once we get back. I don't trust the line, hence why I've kept more than I've let on. How're things over there?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Sherry said with a smile, "but I have to tell you this: I'm flying to Massachusetts tomorrow. Conferences call, after all."

"You were never a good public speaker, Sherry." The tinge of humor in his voice made her smile even more widely.

"But I can give it a try!" she exclaimed back with a good-hearted chuckle. "On a lighter note, the company income is still steady. In our next monthly board meeting, the dividends are going to be juicy for everyone. And before you say anything," she added, "yes, you still get your fifteen."

"I wasn't going to ask, but thank you."

"Really now?" Sherry looked at her watch; in twenty minutes, she'd be receiving a visitor. "Sorry, but I've got something important to attend to and it's going to take long. I'm glad you called."

"Very well; we also need to get our rest. Well, at least I do, to be frank."

"Speaking of, any other relevant clue?" Sherry inquired, leaning back in her seat with worry blooming once more. When he spoke, there was slight grief in his voice.

"Not really. It's the same nightmare every night, but each time is slightly longer and images of other events come up. I'm still trying to make sense out of them," Wesker explained, sighing at the end. "There's nothing else to discuss."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Sherry. "Make sure you take care of yourself and if anything else comes up, please tell me."

"Rest assured, I don't plan to leave you in the dark for as long as I have been. You make sure you get us a safe line; after all, you got the experts."

"I will. I'll call when it's done."

"Very well. And Sherry?"

A knot formed in her stomach when he called her. "Yeah?"

"Be careful."

–

"Be careful." And Wesker meant it. Sherry didn't reply immediately; it was only after a few seconds that she said,

"I will. No worries on that."

With that, she hung up, so did Wesker… but unusually unsettled. William had said that exact same thing at the end of their last call before his death; it was amazing how history tended to repeat itself. But if that tended to happen, would something happen to Sherry, too? If that was the case, then his luck was definitely rotten. There was no time to worry about her, though: it would be pointless. He was several thousands of miles away and unable to return; at the same time, he had trained her well enough. She was more than competent to take care of herself.

There was nothing to do. Unless he wanted to wrack his brains off turning thoughts around, he'd have to stay put and though inactivity wasn't bad once in a while, it barely felt like the best option. There was something he concentrated on: his nightmare. He needed to draw conclusions from it, not just have it in store.

Think: who is he? Why… why is he so familiar?

The boy in his nightmare, the boy who had called to him to help him carry on, even with the feeblest of words. His eyes: it was his eyes what made him remember so clearly. Wesker concentrated even further, recalling as many faces of all he'd come across as possible, only to settle for the most unusual one… but the most plausible. And again, his heart skipped a beat.

Impossible…

But so far, it was true. The boy was William Birkin himself.

–

Vithar is going to kill me for this, but what choice do I have?

Marco stopped in front of Vithar's door, weighing his options. He stood there for a few seconds before sighing in exasperation and collapsing against the wall. His last encounter with Chris had left him genuinely shaken, to say the least. And all he had said to him… it had been no lie.

I'm realizing the error of ways. I shouldn't be seeking vengeance with such passion, but… but Wesker took all I had left from me. But… But it's not entirely his fault: Excella knew what she'd be getting into! I'm sure she must've weighed her options before making her choice. No, no: he deceived her, he tricked her into believing a lie… Oh, dammit… And moreover, I'm willing to help the one who should be my sworn enemy!

Marco bit his lip. I can't ditch him now: Chris needs that vaccine. And if I don't supply him with it, only God knows what will happen. It's… it's the only chance to recover what he's lost.

"Rejoice in your happiness and the others'."

But what others, padre? Has God sent him my way so that I could realize my mistakes?

Marco knew he was becoming a bitter man, his reality plagued and haunted by memories of his past. What else did he need to take? Despite Chris' decision to join him, Marco could take nothing from him. Chris had his sister left, and everyone he cared about: Marco didn't have the right to take her away from him. He'd hurt her, yes, to draw him in, to lure him… but had that been the best option?

I can't keep doing this to myself. Grazie a Dio I still have my sanity.

In that moment, Vithar stepped out of his room and, with surprise, he stared at Marco, who smiled and opened his arms to welcome Vithar into an embrace. With a smile of his own, Vithar stuck close to Marco.

"Did… did you talk to him?"

"I did, Vithar, but he wouldn't listen," Marco said, stroking the boy's hair. "He's dead set on what he's doing, and I have to open his eyes before he makes a costly mistake."

"But… but you wanted to use him, didn't you?" Vithar asked, his tone sad. "And you said… you said we had to take… take revenge on those who… who had taken people away from us, like… like I have lost Freya!"

"I know," Marco admitted, lowering his head. "I know I encouraged you to feed your soul hate, but… but I was wrong. It just… strangles you until you can't but let it go and breathe. I don't want you to be tied up by hate, Vithar; trust me, I know how that feels. I'll carry out one last job myself, and that involves taking out the one that caused all this."

"Him?"

"…Yes, him."

Vithar paused for a moment, then, "You said you hadn't made any promises about the cure. Chris told me he really hoped you could… could make it. It was all-"

"They were words driven by thirst for revenge, Vithar. I know that –partly- because of him, you lost Freya and I my own sister, Excella." He sighed. "But sometimes, we can't take what we should be able to. It's true that it was my intention to manipulate him, but I know better than that. He's made me changed, and he's become your friend. That you have befriended someone is the best news I have received until now," he added, patting Vithar's shoulder, "and you've changed to. That's something I need to pay him back for."

"So you're going to help him?"

"Yes," Marco said with a firm nod. "It may be too late for us to act now, but I know someone who can."

"Who?" Vithar asked. Marco smiled when Vithar met his eyes.

"I'm going to take a leap of faith. Nu vă fie teamă, Vithar."

A/N: AHA! Things are getting tangled up... even more. Don't worry: Marco didn't have a mood swing; he's got his reasons for taking that leap of faith, and you'll see why.

Reviews are appreciated!^^