A/N Guest, relax. Just because I don't update for periods of time doesn't mean I've cancelled the story. Anyways...

Later That Day...

Soap loaded the magazines onto his kit, quickly followed by another frag grenade. The Master Chief had informed them that he would be leaving with the ponies soon, returning to where ever it was they had come from. The Chief seemed to be able to handle himself well in combat, but if this was only a sign of what he was going to be doing, then he would need some help. And since the Chief had saved his life, Soap felt it was his responsibility to come along and help him with his mission. Already he had packed an MP5 with a suppressor, red dot sight, and six magazines, two fragmentation grenades, and a G36C with an ACOG scope and six magazines. Placing the thirtieth bullet into the magazine, Soap inspected the assault rifle's magazine momentarily, then loaded the bullet inside of the weapon. A modest click sound confirmed it locking into place.

"Soap... What are you doing?" He heard from the left. Looking that way, he could see Price, standing there with a cast around his hand, gauss wrapped around his leg, and mid section. Soap sighed mentally, and looked back down at the table, still containing the MP5 and a few stray bullets he had yet to place in a magazine to it's right. Attempting to ignore Price's presence, Soap picked up the MP5's magazine as he counted how many bullets he had put in.

"Soap... Answer me." Price persisted. Soap shook his head, counting the twenty-sixth bullet he placed in the magazine.

"We're the same rank old man. We can take orders from each other or we can leave em'." Soap said back, never taking his eyes off of the magazine. A soft click sounded as he placed the final bullet into the magazine. Picking up the MP5, Soap placed the magazine inside of the weapon, once again gaining a clicking noise confirming it's lock into place. Soap heard approaching footsteps and placed the sub-machine gun onto the table. He took another frag grenade and placed it in a small pocket in which he could carry it.

"Soap, cut the crap. I know you're preparing to go somewhere. We have no orders, and we're not loose cannons anymore. Now... What are you doing?" Price asked. Soap sighed and looked up for a moment. He could tell Price wasn't going to let him be, he was determined to get Soap to answer, and when Price set his mind to something, he wasn't going to stop.

"I'm going with the Chief." He said. He heard Price snort as he placed a strap on the G36C, then slung it over his shoulders.

"That walking tin can asked you to come along with him?" Price asked with a slight chuckle in his voice.

"No." Soap said as he tightened the strap, so that it hung on his back. Despite the fact that he couldn't see him, Soap knew that Price's face had formed a frown, and the air in the room seemed to grow colder just by saying that one word. Soap placed his hands on the table a moment, then let out an audible sigh.

"Price, he saved my life. I owe him everything." Soap said, looking over to his mentor. Price's face carried a heavy frown, seeming to appear very collected. Soap knew him better than that though. He knew what he really felt, he'd known him for too long to think otherwise. Soap knew what he was really feeling. Sadness, anger, pain, confusion, amongst others.

"Soap, you don't owe him anything. Your life has been saved numerous times, this isn't the first time your bloody hind has been in debt, I think you can live with one favor gone unreturned." Price said with a hint of anger in his voice.

"But all those times I wasn't supposed to die. Back there in that bell tower was supposed to be my last few hours alive. But they weren't, because he intervened. He prevented what was supposed to happen. Not what could have... What was supposed to." Soap said. Price rose his hand to his head and turned away, murmuring something to himself. Turning back to Soap, he slammed his fist onto the table, causing some of the stray bullets to bounce.

"Because of him, Nikolai is dead!" He shouted. Soap made no response, still staring blankly at Price.

"Our intelligence operator, our transport, our friend for crying out loud! Because of that man, he is DEAD!" Price continued. Soap shook his head.

"You think I don't know that? We lost a good man, but none of us knew it would happen. We didn't know because he didn't know. It wasn't his fault." Soap said back. Price growled in aggravation, and Soap picked up the MP5, and made sure the safety was on before turning away from the table.

"Soap, you don't know what you might be getting yourself into. He landed in the middle of Makarov's hideout, and was attacked! How do you know something like that won't happen to you?" Price asked in a demanding tone. Soap froze for a moment, though not out of hesitation, out of sympathy. He knew Price was just trying to keep him safe. With how many times he had nearly died, and the knowledge that he was supposed to die not long ago, he couldn't blame him. Still, Soap was confident in himself, he was a 141 member, an elite soldier. He could handle being betrayed, he could handle life threatening injuries, and he could handle nearly impossible odds. He could handle this too. Turning back to Price, he nodded his head.

"I don't. But I'm ready for it." He said. Price's face twisted, turning to one of shock, sadness, and disbelief. Soap turned away.

"So that's it? You're just going to go without question?" Price said. Soap noticed something in his voice, but he refused to acknowledge it.

"Yes. Whether you want me to or not." Soap said as he walked away. Before he reached the door leading out of the room, he felt Price's hand fall onto his shoulder. Looking behind him, Soap stood before his mentor, a look of utter defeat outlining his face. With a sigh of defeat, he reached behind himself.

"Well then... You'd better take this." Pulling his hand back, Price brought out the battered, war-torn, but still usable M1911. Over the years it had become more than just a pistol, it had become a symbol. Not only of the two friends, but of their determination, their will to fight, and the oath of brotherhood. Soap stood for a moment, watching as Price adjusted the gun, so the worn brown hilt pointed out towards him, waiting to be taken by him. Looking back up to him, Soap saw a single tear falling down Price's eye. Back down at the gun, it still remained where it was, hanging there, waiting.

Soap slowly reached out, and took the gun in his hand. The hilt felt rough as Price released the weapon. The gun was more than a symbol now. It was promise. One that Soap would try his hardest to keep.

"I'll be back old man. I promise you." He said as he placed the gun into a pocket in his uniform. Price nodded.

"You'd better." He said. Soap held out his hand, which Price slowly accepted. After sharing one fast man hug, Soap turned away. Chuckling, Soap promised to pay for drinks when he got back. Price smiled.

...

Deep underneath one of the 141's underground bases, John stood straight, as the six ponies in front of him came together, the red necklace now slung around the blue one's neck. Twilight and Fluttershy stood close beside one another, seeming to comfort one another. Twilight said that with the power of an element, they would be able to harness it's power to get them home. He hoped they were right. Travel without a craft of some sort still seemed dangerous to him, not that it bothered him. He'd dealt with much worse. Still, the ponies weren't used to danger, and that was why he was questioning this method.

"Hold it." He heard from behind. Looking back, he could see Captain MacTavish walking up to him. Turning to face him, John watched as he halted in front of him. Looking at him, he knew what he was thinking. Two fully armed weapons, grenades, and a pistol near the outside of his uniform. He wanted to come with them.

"You're going to need some help gathering those things. And I'm going to be the one to help you out." He said. Having noticed him, the ponies stopped whatever it was they were doing, and walked over to the two men.

"He's coming with us?" The orange one asked. John gave no response, instead focusing on MacTavish. Was it really wise to let such a war hero travel with him? This was only a taste of what was to come. Chances were that they would end up somewhere even more dangerous at some point down the road. It was almost inevitable, in fact.

"You know what the risks are, right?" He asked. MacTavish nodded almost instantly, as though he had rehearsed it.

"I've given it thought. And this is what I'm deciding to do with my life that wasn't supposed to be. I have to help the man who saved me from what was supposed to happen. I'm in your debt, and I have to pay it back." MacTavish said with a solid tone. Looking down to the ponies, John asked what they thought. Only Twilight gave a response.

"This is going to keep getting worse and worse, we need all the help we can get. I say let him come." She said in a quiet voice. Looking back up, he noticed Soap walking closer.

"Price already tried talking me out of it. I'm going with you. And that's final." He said. John continued to ponder this, still unsure of whether or not to allow this.

"His mind is set on this John. You don't have much choice." Cortana said in his mind. John hesitated a moment, then nodded.

"Looks like Price wore off on you sir. Welcome aboard."

...

Arkham City, 2011

Batman walked along the frozen halls of Gotham's old PD building, the sound of wind fluent in the air. It was soft, and blew a cool breeze along his entire body, a comforting sensation, but he knew he had more important things to deal with. He hoped Fries wasn't lying when he said he would be able to manufacture this cure. He needed it desperately. Not that he would let him know. This illness was already wearing on him again, even with the Lazarus restoring his health momentarily. Walking into the open labs, he saw Fries typing something at a computer, and walked forward. He had been sure to place the necklace he had found earlier behind his cape and out of sight, so no one would attempt to steal it.

"Impressive, Batman. I doubted you would actually return." Fries said as he turned to face the Dark Knight. Batman placed Rā's blood on a nearby table.

"I'm a man of my word Victor. You should know that by now." He said as Fries picked up the tube containing the blood and walked back over to the terminal he was using. Batman heard a strange noise from behind, and could tell that it was the necklace. Whatever this thing was, it reacted to the truth. Not wanting Fries to notice, he backed away slightly as he placed the tube inside of some sort of machine, and began typing away at the keyboard. Within seconds, two tubes with a new blue substance inside came up beside the terminal, the cure. Fries picked up the holder for the tubes as he walked towards a safe, taking one of the tubes out before locking the other inside.

"The formula is complete, bonding process appears to have been successful." He said as he walked slowly towards the Dark Knight. Batman left relief wash over him, knowing that this would not be his final hours. Though he did not fear death, he wanted to make sure Gotham would be watched over, and so far, he was the best at doing that. Fries tilted his head slightly, observing Batman closely.

"How are you feeling? You look unwell..." He said slowly. Batman frowned, knowing where this could be going.

"Give it to me."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that Batman..." Fries said as he held out the cure in front of him. "You have given me your last order." He said as he crushed the tube, glass flying from his hands as the cure fell to the floor. Batman glared angrily at the man before him. Fries was a desperate man, but right now, Batman was more desperate. And Fries had made a very poor decision.

"This is NOT a time for negotiation." Batman warned him.

"I think it is... The clown has my wife. Bring her back to me." Fries said. Irritated with Fries, Batman turned towards the safe, deciding he would get the cure himself. Before he could reach it, a beam of ice shot towards the safe, and Batman was knocked back. Recovering, Batman landed on his hand as he angrily glared at the mad scientist in front of him.

"You don't want to do this Fries..." He said with a growl in his voice. Fries' walked forwards as his suit made clicking and sliding noises.

"Oh... I believe I do. You will bring me Nora, or you will... die." He said, his voice growing deeper and deeper as his sentence continued. The visor to his helmet slid down in front of him, and he pointed his blaster at Batman. The Dark Knight evaded a blast as he could hear the strange noise growing louder, and louder...