A/N: Before it starts, I think it's worth pointing out that a new character is in this chapter, but I'm sadly very unfamiliar with him. Honestly, all that I know about him comes from Wikipedia. He seemed like (and turned out to be) a fun candidate, but if he's any bit OOC, I apologize. Anyway, please, enjoy!

-MVC-

In the corner of the rooftop was the flaming heap of trash that was once a helicopter. Located more in the center of it were two of its passengers, neither of which had fully picked themselves off the ground yet. I didn't recognize one of them; he wore a red coat, but no shirt underneath it. I saw machine guns and swords on his person, but neither were his defining feature. To me, that prize went to the snow white hair on top of his head. It didn't look bleached, so I chocked it down to messed up genes. I couldn't spend much time coming up with a solution to that.

Unlike him, I recognized the other person.

"Chris..." The poisonous tone that Wesker carried made me feel nostalgic. Nostalgic, and nauseous. As he spoke, he twisted his head around to glare at me. "What an unnecessary way to get my attention."

"Wesker..." I grumbled in reply. I whipped my handgun out and pointed it straight at him.

"So this is Wesker?" Spider-Man cut in. I had to guess that he was over the Hulk by now. "It's got to be said. I'm liking his haircut."

The worst teammate I'd ever had slowly got to his feet. He had been seconds away from dying in a horrifying crash; I didn't even see his legs shake. "You must be enjoying this."

I kept my pistol trained on him and let him talk. Trying to respond wouldn't have gotten me anywhere. Besides, I needed to be on high alert. I had no reason to believe he had stopped injecting himself with the T-Virus, which lets him move faster than I can blink. Combine that with being regretfully unknowledgeable about his "teammate," and a fight could literally break out in less than a second.

"Even I'm surprised at myself for letting it come to this," he went on, clenching his hand into a fist. "You see, my pilot...tended to follow his own orders. You can thank him for trying to shoot you down, and for this entire crash. I hardly urged him to jump out of the helicopter."

"You make people want to do that all by themselves," I snapped back. "Why are you here, Wesker?"

"Preparing," he scoffed. It was nearly nine at night, and he still insisted on wearing those damn sunglasses. I only paid attention to them because he moved a hand to push them farther up the bridge of his nose. "And some research. But neither of those things concern you. In fact, I find myself not caring much at all about you. However, X-23, my dear, you're quite a different story."

Her claws shot out from her knuckles almost before Wesker finished his last sentence. I heard them.

"I must apologize for the way things turned out earlier. I do recall advising you to stay in the helicopter...but, it's nothing either of us should be upset about. It's a shame I didn't have an opportunity to say that before you found...him."

I tightened the grip on my gun. I couldn't stand that guy's voice; the fact that he formed words only made it worse. "You're wasting time, Wesker! She already knows you lied t-"

A claw inches in front of my face stopped me. I shifted my eyes to see Laura was ready to defend herself; if I was Wesker, I'd be more scared of X-23's cold eyes than the pistol I was aiming at him. "Who do you think you are?" she scolded, her narrow eyes focused on Wesker. I sort of wished she would move her hand, and claw, away from me, but I wasn't about to make a request.

"I'm someone who was hoping to have a beautiful woman like yourself standing on my side of the rooftop...Laura."

"How do you know my name?"

It was against my better judgment, but I lowered my gun. I had to; I was too surprised by Laura. Her body was beginning to turn red, assumingly out of pure rage. Maybe a vein could be seen if I looked hard, but I wasn't daring enough to stare. I slowly put my focus back on Wesker.

"Hmph." The target took it upon himself to take a few steps to his side. His partner, the red coat guy, was starting to make his way up to his feet. Wesker kept his back turned to him. It was a hard choice deciding who to keep my gun in line with, but after shifting back and forth once, I decided on Wesker. "You were among the things I researched, my dear. You fascinated me. And now you can imagine how much it pains me to see you opposing me like this."

Laura released a scream of frustration. Of anger, of hate.

Before I could stop her, she tore off. Bolting in the direction of Wesker as fast as a ferocious predator. I couldn't believe how angry she could get, and how intense she was. After witnessing this, I felt like I only had to deal with a fraction of her ability back at the Daily Bugle. She seemed completely in control of herself back then; I couldn't help but worry that something would happen when her cool was lost.

"It was the way Wesker worded that," Spider-Man mused, his tone sounding almost like one of pity. "Laura probably doesn't like to hear her name and the word 'researched' said in the same breath."

I released the breath that I had been holding, reluctantly lowering my gun at the same time. Yet again, Spider-Man made an almost inarguable guess. I was worried about her. Did she know everything Wesker was capable of? The two attempted to exchange blows. I wasn't surprised to see Wesker nimbly dodging her claw strikes, but I was definitely relieved to see that Laura wasn't giving him an easy hit on her, either.

"Just as I predicted," Wesker bragged after catching one of Laura's wrists. When she attempted to attack with the other one, he caught that one too. "You see, my dear, I've spent much time this evening in a discussion with your friends. They told me all about you...how you tick. Some of them even did so before I needed to severely harm them."

That got the exact response Wesker probably wanted. She gave a beast-like roar. In the frame of mind she was in, I can't imagine it even occurred to her to ask which of her friends he had gotten to. Wesker tossed her to the floor, barely injuring her. I bet she didn't even notice. Judging by the way she hopped to her feet and lunged after him again, I think I would have won that bet.

What did Wesker gain by making X-23 angry?

I frowned. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't keep the gun aimed at Wesker. The risk of hitting Laura simply wasn't worth it. That didn't mean I was done with it. Wesker had a partner, and I thought it was about time we got acquainted. "Who are you, and what in the hell convinced you it was a good idea to take Wesker's side?"

"Name's Dante," he greeted with an aggravating amount of politeness. He saluted both Spider-Man and I with two fingers, and seemed completely neutral to the fact my handgun was aimed right at him. "I'm going out on a limb and saayying...you two know each other?"

I took a quick glance at Wesker, but didn't keep my concentration off Dante for long. "More or less."

Spider-Man walked one step closer to Dante. "Bud, you've had to piece together by now that you're working for the wrong guy."

"...Working?" Dante grabbed one of his machine guns. Instinct made me push down halfway on my trigger. I was almost frozen solid in confusion when he didn't point it at either of us, nor X-23 or Wesker. He used the barrel of the weapon to scratch an itch on the side of his head. For a short moment, the sadistic part of me was hoping the gun would accidentally fire. "It's a Sunday night and there's nothing to do in this dump. I came along for the ride."

"Nothing to do...in New York?" Spider-Man seemed genuinely puzzled. "Did you even bother reading any of those pamphlets they give out? They're free, you know?"

"Spider-Man!" I scolded. I couldn't hide that I was mad, and for a good reason; it sounded like there was a good chance this could become a four-on-one against Wesker, and the bug in a costume is still cracking jokes. "Dante, I can promise you as many helicopter rides as you'd like if we can turn our attention to Wesker!"

Dante gripped his teeth together and let out a sound like he was debating with himself about my offer. This was easily the closest I'd ever gotten to winning someone over with a short trip in a helicopter. Though, that brings up the point that I've never tried before. "Nyeh...Tempting, but no. The guy in black promised a strawberry sundae, and I'm holding out for that."

I couldn't counter-offer; I was prepared to throw in pizza. He didn't give me much of a chance before quickly fixing that machine gun on me.

"Chris!" Spider-man yelped. He reacted without hesitation, cart-wheeling in front of me and throwing up a shield made entirely of web just as Dante squeezed the trigger. The sound the shots made, speed they launched out at, and velocity they hit the shield with made me all too confident that this guy liked his rapid-fire. I couldn't say what his specific gun is; all I know is I'd rather not be hit by any of those bullets.

I stopped briefly to stare in amazement at Spider-Man's tactic. What did he use to create this stuff? It not only holds up his own weight, but can also keep back machine gun fire?

In any case, I was pretty happy that I was finally on this side of the wall-crawling human.

The offer of safety is one hard to pass up. I slid to get closer to Spider-Man, and more importantly, the web shield he was holding up. I could tell it wasn't easy for him to hold back a seemingly endless barrage of fire, which just made me grateful that I didn't have to do it. "Suppose you don't have a plan?"

"Do I look like I'm thinking of a plan right now?" Spider-Man icily replied back. I couldn't say I didn't deserve it.

Dante raised his voice so it could be heard over the gunfire. "You can hide, but you can't-uh, wait, never mind."

All the time, he kept pumping bullets into Spider-Man's shield. I noticed that every few seconds, my partner squeezed his palm, reapplying layers of webbing to the shield. That was bad; at that rate, he would soon run out of web. Not only would that leave us without a shield, Spider-Man would lose his main weapon.

That's when I had a brainstorm. It couldn't have come at a more convenient time.

I reached for a case on my belt. Inside was an assortment of explosives, ranging from timed to sensor. Only a hand grenade was going to get us out of this problem. I've said that a lot over the years.

I grabbed it, then shut the container. I quickly pulled the pin out with my other hand before hurling it blindly over Spider-Man's shield. All I had to do was find the source of the gunfire, so sight wasn't necessary anyway.

Evidently, I found my target. Or maybe not; grenades had the tendency to make people back off even if they miss. Whichever one it was wasn't important. The gunfire stopped, and I wasn't about to let an opportunity go by. I spun out from behind the shield, pistol drawn and aimed. Dante was squatting on his knees, looking as if he had rolled to escape the explosion. No guns were pointed at me to worry about. Somehow, the smirk he wore was worse. "You had your chance. From now on, you're considered an accomplice to Wesker."

"Can you even believe it?" Dante wondered, apparently ignoring my threat. "I almost stayed home today."

I tend not to trust psychopaths after a line like that; besides, he couldn't say I didn't warn him. I squeezed the trigger once, and just to make sure, again. I recalled that I had forty bullets left. I needed to be careful against this guy. Wesker would need three times the supplies that this Dante needed.

My eyes shot open wide when I realized how Dante was countering my attack. He wasn't using superhuman reflexes to simply dodge, like I'd gotten so used to over the night. Instead, he grabbed a steel blade from his sheath. He must have had no more than half a second to swing the sword around and literally dice a bullet in half. The second one I had shot was pretty much doomed to the same fate.

Was I just foiled by Hollywood theatrics?

"I'm trickier than that," he taunted. Not even a bead of sweat was on his face.

I was more content with how the next part played out. He was so focused on me, he had forgotten about my arachnid partner. Spider-Man shot the sticky shield he had been using to defend the both of us with; it carried on, and after a brief assistance from the wind, nailed Dante just beneath the forehead. I had to wonder if Spider-Man was originally aiming for his mouth.

"All right," the bug stated, standing next to me. "Web shooters are reloaded. What did I miss?"

Dante rubbed the spot on his head that the weapon had nicked. He seemed irritated, but not angry enough to make any bad judgment calls. "Your boyfriend over there thinks I'm an idiot."

Spider-Man retaliated by calmly pointing a thumb at Wesker. "Hey, at least my boyfriend is prettier than yours."

I had mixed feelings about that remark, but decided against voicing any of them.

"Don't even go there, bug!" Dante cried, snarling. That irritation/anger line looked like it was about to be crossed soon. He started a dash for Spider-Man, sword in hand.

"For the first and last time, it's A-RACH-NID. You learn this stuff in third grade, people!"

I rolled to the side as this guy -a mercenary of some sort, I could only imagine- made a swing with his sword. He brought it around widely, clearly aiming for Spider-Man, but with me conveniently being in the way. Something tells me he wouldn't have minded much if he got me instead.

Much to my appreciation, he didn't seem too upset that he missed me, either. As expected, Spider-Man proved to be an impossible target and jumped in the opposite direction of me. The brawl between those two started, and I realized I had the luxury of no one caring about me.

I'd managed to avoid firing when one of my teammates was fighting with someone else all through the night so far, but that was about to end. Dante was completely distracted, and I had faith Spider-Man wouldn't let himself get shot. I lifted up my pistol and took careful aim.

It didn't help anything that the both of them kept bouncing around. At the same time, I wasn't in a position to complain. Any orders to Spider-Man would just remind Dante that I was here, and the idea would be ruined anyway.

I felt confident in my shot. Just as I was making a few last second, fraction-of-an-inch changes to my aim, I was coldly reminded that I wasn't invisible.

At first, I thought that a truck had hit me from behind. I was pushed to the ground, destroying my aim and only barely managing to avoid misfiring a bullet. The pain I felt from the contact was instantly put out of my mind; I used my strength instead to look up at the object that had hit me, then rolled off of me.

That's when I realized that the truck had notable curves.

X-23 had her body facing the roof we were on. Her claws remained extended, but I could tell even from here that she was in more pain than she bargained for. She was having trouble just putting an arm underneath her to balance her on the way up. I spun around from my own face-plant and on to my back. The new position gave me a clear view of Wesker casually making his way up to the both of us.

Damn it.

"I must say, Chris, I'm starting to notice a pattern with you."

Again, I shot two bullets in a row. Even I'm not sure why I did it, aside from forcing him to pause for a second in order to dodge. When the second one harmlessly buzzed by his ear, he continued on like it had never happened.

"You seem to find female partners that throw themselves at me in a blind attempt to leave a scratch." He stopped. And smirked. And fixed the position of those damn sunglasses. "I'm three for three."

I climbed to my feet. I was vulnerable the entire time, but I didn't even think about that. Wesker was far too cocky to attack while I was defenseless. It wasn't honor. It was his sick fantasy of getting some perfect victory over me.

I was quiet for a moment. I wanted to rage on Wesker, only because he was right. Too many people have been hurt or worse in my never ending missions to stop him. Getting reminded of them only made me want to put my gun next to Wesker's head and never stop shooting. But I didn't let myself do that. I couldn't. Not before I finished this mission. "Spider-Man," I said without ever taking my eyes off Wesker. My back was to him, so I wasn't sure if he even had the ability to pay attention to me. "Protect Laura until she heals herself."

"...Uh. Right."

At least I got a response. That was good enough for me.

Wesker tipped his head slightly in an aggravating mixture of confusion and amusement. "Finally going to face me one-on-one, are you, Chris?"

"We aren't rivals in some tournament, Wesker," I cursed, "You're a threat to the entire world. I'm going to take you down by whatever means necessary."

"Hrm...That was almost a yes."

I wasn't sure if he was disappointed or actually satisfied with my answer. Like I cared. Charging at Wesker wouldn't be enough; I needed him to come to me. I suspected that three of my handgun bullets being fired at him would be enticing enough.

The good news was, it worked. The bad news was...it worked.

He dodged first to the left; within less than a second, he was a foot closer to me and dodged right. He ducked under the last one, then paused only to smile at me. Before I -or any other human- could react, he was standing inches in front of me. He grappled the collar of my shirt and lifted me off the ground with a single hand. His grip was as remarkable as I recalled it being.

"Understand something, Chris. I'm getting tired of our constant encounters."

"And you think I'm not?" I roared back.

I yanked my machete out of its holster on my chest with the opposite hand I was still holding the gun with. I'd gotten a good enough grip on it quickly, allowing me to make a jab with it into Wesker's drugged-up gut.

Wesker didn't bother pretending he looked surprise by my tactic. He held his other hand in front of my target, forcing a collision between my blade and his glove. I felt the knife slice easily through the leather and dig into his hand, but yet, I'm the one who grunted in annoyance. Whatever Wesker injected himself with, it seemed to make him almost totally in control of his pain. Getting his hand stabbed would do next to nothing against him.

After the contact was made, he glanced back up at me, like he was silently asking if I actually thought that would work. He didn't wait long for an answer. Almost immediately, he spun around and hurled me to the ground.

The pain of the collision was bad, but there was an advantage to our positions. When I rolled myself to a stop, I realized that I could see past Wesker and at the other battle still raging. It almost looked like Spider-Man didn't care to go on the offense; he kept using his unrivaled mobility to slip in between all of Dante's attack attempts. More importantly, somewhere he had found the time to wrap X-23 fully in webbing. That seemed like another smart move by Spider-Man. However Laura's "healing factor" worked, it likely involved rest. With nothing getting in, she could concentrate fully on that.

Knowing Wesker, he probably figured out that I was looking past him. If he did, he didn't bother mentioning it. "How did you find Laura?"

When he said that, I came to the realization that I hadn't been aiming the gun at him. I quickly corrected that mistake. Even if I knew it would almost never connect, a bullet forced him to stop for a second and evade. One of these times, that single second would be crucial in taking him down. "After being abandoned by you, she found me," I explained, rising up to my feet. "Why are you so interested in her?"

"Weapon X...Hmhmhm hahaha..."

I always hated that laugh. Cocky, arrogant, but not loud. I fired a bullet at him, almost by instinct.

I didn't even have the time to recover from the recoil of the shot before Wesker made his move. He effortlessly moved out of the way, then seemed to appear right in front of me. A Magnum revolver was pointed at my head, while my pistol was held to his neck. We were in a nerve-wracking stalemate. At least, that's the optimistic way of looking at it; even at this distance, Wesker could probably squirm around a bullet.

"Imagine," he went on, continuing to be unaffected by our fight at all, "Being able to infuse bodies with adamantium. Laura...or, is it X-23? is my first step in attaining a power like that."

That answer was startling. It wasn't always the most intelligent idea to ask questions with a gun in my face, but I had a feeling Wesker wasn't even thinking of pulling the trigger. Not yet. "What happened to Uroboros, or the T-Virus, or whatever the hell it is you're pumping into your body these days?"

"You once again fail to understand what's at hand, Chris. I will perform the Weapon X project on those I find that might have use to me. I have no personal use for Weapon X. Not with Uroboros. With an army, I could secure my place as a god of-"

He stopped. The last problem Wesker had was losing his train of thought during a psychopathic rant, so I wasn't sure what the problem was.

I peeked over his shoulder and got an answer.

I jumped off to the side, landing on the ground, but quickly looking back. There was a strand of webbing attached to the backside of Wesker's trench coat, but it was quickly losing its firmness. Within the matter of moments, the one and only Spider-Man made a grand appearance by rocketing his foot into Wesker's back. He'd yanked himself with such strength that he had plenty of momentum to carry the attack through.

"Ooh, right in the back!" the arachnid said while virtually back flipping off of Wesker. "But...that's how you like it, isn't it?"

The act was impressive, I had to admit, and potentially saved my life. I looked over at Dante to see him struggling with a few pieces of web wrapped around his ankles. It wouldn't take him long to get out of that, and Spider-Man knew it. He turned to me with a thumbs up. "He's all yours."

After that, he leapt back to his own devices.

Spider-Man's words confused me at first, but then I looked at Wesker. I witnessed a sight that was one of the rarest experiences I would have: Wesker, vulnerable. From my point of view, a kick like Spider-Man's would have easily shattered a spine; Wesker getting the wind knocked out of him was about as close to that as I was going to get. He had staggered forward before finally dropping to a knee.

I'll be damned if this wasn't the best opportunity I've had at Wesker all night.

I rolled in front of Wesker, instantly re-orientating myself and nailing him under the chin with an uppercut. This time, I was the one to grab him by the collar. I lifted us both back to our feet, then gave him the gift of a left hook to his jaw. One punch, then two; one for both sets of his ribs. I clutched the backside of his head, ignoring the hair gel that slipped onto my unprotected fingers. I forcefully pushed down, simultaneously bringing my leg up. His skull had a painful meeting with my right knee.

That move in particular was the most gratifying for me. Just as my knee made contact, I heard a crack. Those damn sunglasses of his fell to the ground, nose piece broken, lenses shattered.

I smirked at that, then finished my combination with a strong left kick to his stomach.

He stumbled backwards until he inevitably tripped over his own feet, hitting the ground and rolling a couple times. He ended up on his front side, muttering something or other to himself.

I came close to asking him how annoying the ringing in his ears was, but I decided not to. Wesker wasn't about to turn himself in after a few blows, so I didn't feel like I had a reason to become overconfident. Besides, I think I'd rather leave the wisecracks to Spider-Man.

Wesker climbed onto a knee. His body was facing to the left, but his focus didn't waver from me for a second. His demonic red eyes tried to intimidate me, but it didn't work. He was actually less frightening to me once those sunglasses were off. "Chris!" he hollered, a little bit more than slightly agitated. It could have been for the string of blows I'd dealt him, but I couldn't help but feel like he was more pissed off over his glasses. "I always thought you were smarter than to make me angry!"

"You shouldn't assume things, Wesker," I replied, feeling a little snarky.

He didn't appreciate the comment as much as I was hoping for. He again tapped into his inhuman speed and charged up to me.

My gun was pulled, and Wesker was apparently sick of that. He rammed my arms off to the side using one of his own. The disarming tactic was so swift and hard, my hands involuntarily lost the grip on the pistol. I watched as it bounced on the ground, constantly rolling over itself, until finally it slipped off the edge of the roof. My first thought was that the last thing a New Yorker needs is a gun literally dropping into his hands, but I had different problems at the moment.

Wesker took advantage of my inconvenient position and shoved his hand, which was shaped into an open palm, into my own stomach. He'd accidentally found the wound that X-23 had caused earlier tonight with her foot spike. That didn't make the blow any softer.

I tried backing away until I could regain my composure, but that didn't go over so well either. Wesker followed me back. He crouched down, stuck his leg out, and spun around, effectively tripping me. He didn't let me hit the ground before he brought his other leg up and kicked me into the corner of our battlefield.

Our really small battlefield.

I shook my head, reminding myself it was critical to stay alert. I wanted to get up, but Wesker was already towering over me. This was starting to look bad.

"Rest, Chris," Wesker said, moving his arm. I realized he was making a slow movement towards his Magnum. "knowing this: you never stood a chance."

If I wanted to live, time wasn't on my side. Acting fast, I did all I could think of. I reached for the dummy stick.

As soon as Wesker saw me moving for something, he hastened his own movement. For once, I was proud to say I was faster than Wesker. I jammed the electric rod's switch to on, then swept across the ground with it. Just the tip of it managed to nick Wesker's shoe, but it was plenty enough. Volts of electricity charged through his body, giving me a beautiful opportunity.

I stood up and set the dummy stick away while I was doing it. It had done its job, and it did it perfectly. Wesker was still dazed from getting fried. I took the chance I had to twist his wrist until he unwillingly gave his Magnum gun to me, then sent him off with another forceful kick. I was starting to get tired, and it showed in the strength of my attack. I could only hope this entire fight was coming to an end.

Magnums weren't my personal preference. They were big and heavy. They couldn't hold as many bullets as handguns could, and they took longer to reload. I'm not surprised Wesker would sacrifice all of that for the ability to shoot through reinforced steel. "Aren't you done yet, Wesker?"

He recovered from my kick and seemed indifferent that his own gun was being pointed at him. "Are you enjoying yourself, Chris? Do you think you're moments away from winning?" He sounded calm. I knew Wesker. It wasn't going to last. And it didn't. "You would be wrong!" he shouted, almost definitely catching the attention of Spider-Man and Dante. "I am a god! No matter who you think you are, you of all people cannot defeat a god!"

My nostrils flared a bit. They do that when I'm mad. "That's where you're messed up, Wesker. You're the only person in the world that thinks you're a god. A few superpowers and a gigantic ego don't make you a god."

"True fact," Spider-Man chimed in. His battle with Dante had apparently quieted for a moment. "Just ask Doctor Doom."

"Shut it," his opponent warned, taking another slice at him with a sword.

As refreshing as it was, the break from Wesker was over. He clenched his gloved hand into a fist. I noticed it was the same one I had cut into earlier. "My only regret is I can't prove you wrong. You're the only obstacle standing in my way. You won't be alive long enough to see my rule. Die, Chris!"

He bolted forward, and for the second time, prioritized and got me away from the gun. Unlike before, he must have wanted his gun back; for now, he elbowed my wrists, forcing me to drop it straight down. It hit the rooftop at what must have been a perfect angle. The force of the drop pressured the trigger enough to fire. What sounded like an earth-shattering blast came from one of the deadliest weapons mankind's ever patented. Wesker and I were in close-quarters, and the bullet fired into the air between us. It was unbelievable luck that the shot missed us both by inches, but it was difficult enough to keep calm after such an unexpected sound.

For me. Wesker on the other hand didn't seem to have much of a problem with it. He wasn't smiling at the drop of sweat that ran down the side of my face. The cockiness was long gone. His blood-strained eyes showed that he wanted me dead.

He swung his arm in an attempt to hit me with a hook, but I managed to block it. I should have gotten some medal for it; Wesker was moving at his super speed, so I felt proud I had seen the attack coming in time.

After that, my pride went in the back seat.

He hit me once in the shoulder, then in the thigh. The onslaught was coming so rapidly, I could barely find the time to figure out what I was getting hit with. He made a precise chop at my wrist that sent it into incredible pain. I didn't think it was broken, but it was unlikely it would be of much use for the remainder of this fight. After a blow to the side of my face, he paid me back for that uppercut I had given him earlier.

I fell backwards, to the ground. The darkness was so tempting. I could escape from the pain, and the problems would almost just go away, even if only for a few hours.

Except they wouldn't. If no one else took down Wesker, he would get to do all the crap he's preached about. Losing my will now meant that I was happy and the world went to hell. That wasn't about to happen.

I heard a sound. It certainly wasn't angels singing. It sounded more like a sword was getting ripped out of a sheath. All I could think of was Dante, and as far as I knew, he was already attacking with his sword. My mind was too dazed to think of other alternatives.

"It's been an interesting run, hasn't it, Chris?" Wesker asked, I assumed rhetorically, while executing a stomp on my body. "All those years of you getting in my way have come down to this. The result that the both of us expected."

I grunted, clenching my teeth in the hopes that he wouldn't hear it. I was already in pain, and his foot digging into my stomach wasn't helping me to feel better.

"Now let me ask you a question. By definition, wouldn't you agree that this match was decided...by a god?" He chuckled; his arrogance was returning to him. I just wished I could do a damn thing about it.

He made an uninterrupted reach for my throat. His hands clamped down. The darkness from before was starting to become less of an option and more mandatory. "Never again will you stop me fro-"

For the second time, he stopped mid-sentence. His grasp loosened until my neck was freed. My head bounced against the roof, but it was better than being strangled to death.

Then I realized something was dripping on me. I looked on my stomach to see a small pool of blood there; that would have been horrifying, but I was pretty sure it wasn't mine. Then I looked up.

Wesker's expression said that he was trying to process pain. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. I looked down at Wesker's torso, and my eyes followed his example.

Impaled. Two razor-sharp claws were inserted into Wesker's back and, like a magic trick gone wrong, came out the other side. They seemed to be shoved in either side of his spine; not even an inch in either direction, and not even Wesker's body could have dealt with that. That didn't happen, though. X-23 was standing behind him, and she seemed perfectly content where she was.

I looked to where Laura had been. The silk cocoon was in tatters. The sound I heard just moments ago must have been Laura chopping through it.

My teammate had saved my life.

X-23 leaned in toward Wesker's ear and whispered, "Stop breathing." After, she drove her remaining pair of claws into Wesker's back, this time closer to his heart. I was pretty sure that in spite of her suggestion, she had avoided hitting any vital organs. What I wasn't sure on was whether that was on purpose or not.

She turned around, bringing Wesker with her. When they were facing the opposite direction, she lifted her leg up and kicked him off of her spikes. As she watched him crumple to the ground, she brought her hands down; her claws were drenched in blood. Once she got a satisfactory amount of amusement from that, she turned back around to me.

She lifted her hand up and gently set some hair behind her ear, all the while looking at me oddly. "...Are you...okay?"

If it wouldn't have been so painful to do so, I would have laughed. She'd probably never had a teammate to care about before. The result was that question asked as awkwardly as it was. "I've been worse...Sorta," I responded, trying to sound in less pain than I was. Wesker's multiple hits had gotten to me pretty badly, but at least I was able to sit up on my own.

Laura nodded, retracted one set of her claws, then offered that hand to me. I nodded and accepted it. With equal parts effort between the both of us, we managed to get me to my feet.

We started looking at Wesker, but his only "teammate" caught our attention first. "Hey...You guys aren't so bad."

"A compliment? From you?" Spider-Man asked dramatically. "I didn't know you were capable of such a feat!"

"Laugh it up," Dante countered, putting his weapon back into its holder. "Just remember that anything you say can and will be used to make fun of those tights."

Spider-Man set his hands on his hips. He was, apparently, always ready and willing for a good bantering session. "Tights are where it's at. Think about it. The word 'tight' is right in there."

Everyone's attention shifted near instantaneously. Wesker crawled back into a standing position. It was slow and shaky, and honestly, pathetic. His stance remained hunched over for a few moments before he was able to stand up straight. Blood was still pouring out his four different wounds, no doubt staining his leather beyond repair.

Laura's retracted claw launched itself outward.

"Chris...CHRIISS!" he shouted into the sky for the greater part of New York City to hear. "Why?" he spoke through grinding teeth. "Why can't I beat you? Why won't you die?"

"Save it, Wesker." After seeing how much pain Wesker was in, suddenly, my own didn't feel so bad. If nothing else, the relief helped me stay in a relaxed pose. "You're done."

"No. I'll never admit defeat to you." He made a shaky reach for an inside pocket of his coat. "I knew I would encounter you sooner or later. I knew how likely it was you would run into X-23 since you were both looking so hard for me. That's why I came prepared."

I could only imagine what Wesker was about to pull out of his pocket. That guy found a way to make just about anything into a weapon. I had to wonder why he made the connection with Laura, though.

Freed from the confines of his coat, his hand was now clearly holding a vile. I couldn't tell what was in it; in fact, it looked like nothing was. It was a clear tube no bigger than his palm. I couldn't say I felt threatened, but Laura must not have felt the same. I heard an audible gasp from her, followed by a step backwards. Two very unusual things coming from her.

"Laura, what is it?" I asked, looking back and forth between her and the bottle. "What's in that thing?"

I got a response. Sadly, it wasn't from her, and it wasn't even an answer to my question. "So long, Chris! I only regret I couldn't do this myself!"

With hesitation only because his body was still recovering from X-23's impaling, Wesker threw the vile onto the ground. It smashed into countless pieces, at the same time releasing a substance. When whatever was inside came into contact with air, it turned from transparent to a faint white color. A ball of white mist hovered above where the vile had been, though it slowly started to spread through-out the entire rooftop.

"A cloud?" I heard Dante ask. He seemed to have lost any amount of loyalty to Wesker that he might have had. It made me realize that Dante had tied Spider-Man up the entire night just so he wouldn't get himself bored, but at least it was over. "You're attacking them with a cloud, Boss? Seriously?"

Through the odd gas, I caught Wesker's red eyes glaring at me. He was waiting for that moment. The eye contact. He gave a snarl, and before I could even lift my arm up, he ran to the edge of the rooftop at lightning speed. He took an almost fearless bound off of it in order to jump over to a different rooftop.

"He's not getting away!" I howled in anger. No way, no chance. After all of this, Wesker wasn't about to make an escape just because he was losing. All that would accomplish is forcing him into hiding for a few weeks until he recovers, then he'd be right back at it.

That son of a bitch wasn't getting away.

I brought my hand up and just hit the button on my headset when I was pushed. Not hard enough to fall over, but enough to get me to stumble to the side a few steps. It disturbed my concentration enough to lighten up on the button after having not said a word.

There was only one person close enough to have done that, and she got my attention without a problem. I stared at her in a mix of confusion and contempt. Her hair was covering her eyes, but that didn't make a difference to me. "Laura, what are you doing?"

"...Get away from me..."

I rose my eyebrow in puzzlement. A look at Spider-Man didn't yield any results, either.

Soon, Laura acted on her own. She began dashing forward, toward the other two. Dante specifically. Before he could spit out more than "Uh," and "Um," she began shoving him. I noticed he was making no effort to defend himself. Could it possibly be from guilt for attacking us? Whatever made him do it, he was pushed harder than I was. Actually, quite a bit harder.

"This is why I'm happily single-Whoa!"

Dante ran out of room to be pushed. When his first foot lost ground to stand on, his second one wasn't far behind. X-23 shoved him off the roof of the building, much to an alarmed Spider-Man's dismay.

"Laura! Wh-what-?"

He was drowned out by Laura. She collapsed to her knees in the corner of the building, yelling, "Everyone needs to get away from me!"

The white mist was beginning to thicken. It laid an uncomforting blanket over the roof's top, blocking the view of my own feet.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Spider-Man said in response. He began speed walking in my direction while never fully taking his eyes away from Laura.

"What is going on?" I asked, aggravated, once Spider-Man was close enough to talk to in a more regular voice. "We don't have time for this!"

"Clear your planner..." he warned vaguely.

I should have expected the sarcastic reply. In my defense, I was more used to leading teams a little more organized than this one. "There's no time for games, Spider-Man," I snapped. "In case you didn't notice, Wesker just-"

"I saw what Wesker did." He was interrupted briefly by a scream from Laura. It was an unsettling cry of agony. I watched as Spider-Man's mask watched X-23 without any particular emotion on its features. "I know that guy bullied you on the playground or whatever, but you of all people should know better than to leave a teammate suffering, cop-boy. If you're that obsessed over blondie, go find him. However it is you plan on doing that. I'll figure this out myself."

I was letting myself be lectured by a grown man in a Halloween costume. That wasn't the highest point of my day, but it was hard to find a way to argue with him. I don't leave teammates behind...even if that means Wesker gets his way for now. "...All right," I finally stated. "I'll root out Wesker later. You make convincing points, Spider-Man."

"Heh. You should have seen me on the debate team."

Spider-Man knelt down on one knee, and to my amazement, rolled up his mask. Well, halfway, at least. He was Caucasian, and rather pale at that. Whoever he was behind that mask must not make it out into the sun very much.

When his nose was unveiled, he leaned forward, closer to the ground, and sniffed in. I knew he was trying to figure out what the homemade fog was. I had my doubts, but for now, I kept them to myself.

He talked; I noticed he didn't do it before lowering his mask again completely. "I was afraid of this..."

Bad news. Just what I needed to hear.

Spider-Man stood back up for the rest of the explanation. "We've already established Laura was created in a lab." His tone was kept low, for obvious reasons. We were both looking at Laura, who was now twitching with her hands on her head, while he went on. "And it's pretty clear to me that they must have somehow used DNA from a friend of mine named Wolverine. As you might be able to guess, he's about as close to an animal as a human can get."

"And?" I prodded.

I saw X-23 stop quivering. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she even used them to start standing up.

"I'm going out on a limb and saying they made a small error with that DNA somewhere. You know how wild animals attack when they're provoked?"

She turned around very slowly. Her fists were red from being held together so hard. She hadn't put much effort into putting her claws away, either.

"Consider whatever chemical is in this gas...provoking her."

X-23 allowed me to gain access into her eyes. I wish she hadn't. We stood on completely opposite sides of the roof from each other, and I still saw all the details in her eyes. They looked about as red as Wesker's. Not only that, but she wanted something. Something I didn't feel like giving her at the moment.

Blood.

"S-so-?" I stuttered.

"Yeah..." Spider-man somehow managed to feign calmness. I knew it wasn't real; how could it be? "We're probably dead."

That wasn't helpful. I snorted angrily, then reached for my gun. There was a small problem in doing that. My gun had flown off the side of the building. With my luck, it was probably assisting in a bank robbery right now. With that demon inside of Laura staring at me, it was difficult to even think about what other options I had. The knife and electric rod were close range, which was probably the very last place I wanted to be with X-23 right now. I remembered the grenades, but suddenly grew reluctant. I doubted Laura could heal herself if she was blown into a hundred different pieces.

X-23 tucked her head in and sprung toward me. I was out of time.

Even after making that deduction, Spider-Man seemed surprised by her threatening movement. "Uhh...So about that plan you were telling me about!" he stammered, "What was it again?"

-MVC-

A/N: ...Ah, ha. I'm terrible. I swear that I didn't mean to drag this on for yet another chapter, but I noticed that this would be a fitting place to stop, and...
Another reason is because I thought it might be a good idea to explain what just happened before we go any farther, since I don't think many people are familiar with Laura. Though I may have twisted it a bit to suit the story, Wesker abused what's known as X-23's trigger scent. Basically, if she gets a whiff of the trigger scent, she loses all sense of self-control and goes on a murder spree. Wesker strikes me as someone who would happily use that to his advantage.

No more games. This time, I can promise you that the next chapter will be the last. In the meantime, feel free to review and tell me how I'm doing!