Final: Elusion


"You try to escape
what is real
and live without
a heart of your own"


It wasn't a job he enjoyed. In fact, he really rather hated it. But they needed to be protected and he just couldn't sit idly by while someone was threatening the peace and safety the populace tried so hard to work for.

But that didn't mean he liked it any more. In fact, because of that, he hated doing this all the more. He didn't like to fight, but he had people he had to protect, but he was also fighting people he wanted to help. His own brothers that he had known for the first half year of his life, whom he loved dearly. Then came the next army, some of whose eyes were filled with a sorrow, as if they were forced to fight him against their will, as well.

That idea didn't make it any easier on him. It made it worse.

Standing over them, their faces frozen with burns and scrapes and fluids splashed over them, wanting to cry out 'I don't want to die', but unable to find the voice for it.

And now, on top of the third army, he had to fight another of his brothers. Not just any brother, but the first. The first bioroid created, the predecessor to them all. Who was taken captive and set out to kill him.

Knowing that, it still didn't help him fight against Blues. That did, as was the pattern, only make the fighting harder.

Being forced to fight someone who was forced to fight you was bad enough when they knew that they were doing it. But when they have absolutely no control...

And now, brother temporarily gone for the moment, eight Robot Masters down... he had just finished squaring off with Metal.

And was now standing before another of the second generation Robot Masters.

Quick. The fastest bioroid to date. Iron willed, protective of his family, and dead serious in battle.

And one of the klutziest beings Rock had ever had the chance to meet.

He idly wanted to make a quip about tripping over non-existent rubble, but the quiet glow in his eyes made the joke die on Rock's lips.

Was he just as souped up Metal? Were all the Robot Masters waiting to battle him, wearing him down one by one? Jeez, the way Quick was looking at him made him really uneasy, as if he was the ultimate cause of evil in the world. Or at least in the battlefield. And, should he have had the chance to think about it more, Rock probably wouldn't be too surprised coming from the speedster's point of view.

That is, if he had time to think at all.

He's fast.... That was the only conscious thought Rock had floating through his head, everything else was done by pure reaction. Leaping out of the speedster's way, ducking around the boomerangs coming at him from all angles, fists swinging in a little less than a blur. Oh yeah was he souped up, almost to the point that Rock could no longer see him.

He hoped back, trying to put as much distance between him and Quick as he could, setting up his sights and firing blast after blast towards the blur flitting ever closer towards him. Dirt and metal exploded around the Robot Master as he zigzagged towards the blue bioroid, running his shoulder against Rock's chest, something crushed under the impact.

Rock hit the ground and rolled painfully back up to his feet, his free hand changing the buster clip to Magnet Missiles. He unloaded a good round at the speeding attacker, each missile zooming in, attracted by his metallic scent.

But Quick proved to be too fast for the missiles to handle as he fell back, sliding into a wide arc, the missiles trailing behind him and exploding into the dust. He then changed direction once again, this time heading straight for Rock at full speed. He dodged missiles with less than a hair's breath distance, too close for the projectiles to change direction, wobbly changing directions or crashing uselessly into each other.

Rock would have cursed, really he would have. Just like Fire used to do whenever Guts teased him about his willowy frame, pushing him over just for kicks. He would have cursed up a storm as Quick sped towards him if he had the chance, if he wasn't so busy dodging the flurry of fists that threatened to break him.

A hard blow cuffed him across the face, sending him to skid painfully across the arena. He flipped to his back, trying shoot off more missiles, but the clip's energy readout ran empty. An inarticulate sound passed through his lips as he fumbled for another clip, any clip, as Quick raced towards him again. He didn't even bother to check which one it was, he just slapped it on and fired.

He dodged the beam, no problems at all and Rock believed that this would finally be the moment of his defeat.

Until the beam bounced off the wall, the ceiling and hitting Quick square in the back.

The Robot Master let out a pained cry, the force of the blow knocking him off trajectory and off balance, sending him crashing into the ground.

Rock isn't an idiot, nor does he have any qualms about attacking a downed enemy when his life was in serious jeopardy. He leapt, somewhat painfully, to his feet, switching out the Gemini Laser clip -- in case he was in need of it again –- in favor of his regular weapon, firing repeatedly, rising up a cloud of dust and dirt, sharp metallic 'pings' filling the air against his relentless, desperate attack.

He had thought that the assault had finally beaten Quick, but as he began to let up, the speedster leapt from under the barrage, landing a good dozen yards from the attack point. And he was in awful shape.

One side of his face was covered with thick, dark fluid, the arc on his helmet cracked and broken. His right arm hung limp at his side, crackling and spitting electricity, burns marring the arm and down his side. His back, where the beam had hit, a small, precise hole was drilled through his armor, leaving a melted residue around it.

Quick growled, anger and determination contorting his pleasant voice into something gravelly and frightening. "I won't let you hurt anymore people. I'll stop you with my life."

Rock's blood -- or at least the equivalent to it –- ran cold. The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice.... all that reminded Rock of himself. He was fighting to protect people close to him, people he would gladly give his life for.

He didn't know if he had the will to kill someone like, someone fighting for the same reasons he was.

"If you don't want any others to get hurt," Rock said, stance wary, "then why are you helping Dr. Wily? He wants people to get hurt!"

"What would you know?" He growled in return. "All you know is what Light feeds to you. I know what Wily-sama is, I know what he's doing. But do you understand? Do you know what happens every time you defeat one of us? What we have to go through every time Wily-sama creates a new army? Do you?"

Rock didn't say anything, his cannon slowly lowering.

"NO! You don't! And do you know why you don't? Because you never try to find out about us! You don't care about your own brothers, we could all fall off the face of the earth and you wouldn't care!"

"That's not true!" He retorted. "I do care about -- "

"Do you? Then tell me what you know about us. Any of us! Tell me that you know that Bomb has weak joints. Tell me that you know that Fire has to put a balm over himself to keep from being burned alive. Tell me that you know that Air is afraid of the dark. Tell me that you even knew about Blues before now!"

His words were a stinging blade in his chest. "How do you know....?"

"Because I make an effort!" Quick stated harshly. "Because I care! Because they're my brothers and I love them! I hate seeing them hurt! I hate seeing them beaten by someone that says he cares but doesn't give a shit about them! You know how many times I've heard Elec go on about how great you are? You know how many Metal had to stay up with him in the middle of the night because he's had nightmares about your death? Do you know how many times Cut sulks because he miss you? Do you even care anymore?"

"I do!" But his defense seemed futile. Rock cared deeply about his family, but.... in the face of someone who cared just as much, who lived through the harsh times with them, who knew everything about those he held dear, his protests meant nothing.

Because Quick did something for his family. And Rock just sat idly by, waiting to be used again.

The red robot advanced, limping noticeably. "I won't let you hurt any else. If my life is the cost to stop you, then so be it." The painful loping sped up slowly, turning into an outright charge. On instinct, Rock re-attached the Gemini Laser clip and fired at Quick.

He didn't do so much dodging this time, mainly due to the damage his leg had sustained. The beam sliced through his armor, melting, striking his legs, skimming his helmet and raising burns and cuts. But still he barreled onward, waiting to finish this.

Less than five yards away, a shot hit him in the torso, burning through his side and abdomen. The pain surprised him, causing him to stagger forward. Rock, surprised and frightened, didn't move as the young Robot Master collapsed on top of him, making the elder sag slightly under his weight.

"I don't want to fight you." Rock said softly, tears lining his eyes, words hitched with a hidden sob. "I don't want to fight anyone."

Quick slid down out of Rock's arms, marring his blue armor black-red. A stained hand reached up, weakly clawing at Rock's face. "I can't lose...." blood bubbled passed his lips, the gold hue fading from his eyes, leaving them a darkened rust. "....I can't...."

He set the Robot Master on his back gently, gripping his shoulders tightly. "I won't let Wily hurt anyone else. Not people, not the Robot Masters. I promise," he said, his determination and will coming back in a flush of justified anger, "he won't hurt anyone again."

The field remained silent as Rock left. The tired, labored breathing of Quick slowly coming to halt and his final thoughts coming to rest on Shadow.

Am I just fooling myself? He thought tiredly. I tried so hard for you.... And I don't even know if you care....


THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

One after another, each familiar sound, each familiar motion calmed the turmoil that refused to be reigned. But he wouldn't let it free, to ruin his meticulous life as he strove to put back together what little control he had left.

The Robot Masters were not happy with his loss to Rock. But he didn't care.

Wily was not happy with his failure. Though he hurt, it was only physical. He didn't care.

Blues had not looked his way when he had returned, but he knew the kagemusha was laughing. And he did not care. It was only obvious.

He held the star in his hand, gauging the proper angle to hit the bulls-eye.

He was made using Blues' blueprints, his intelligence and skill gathered through various data Wily had recovered on Blues' performance and thought process. So, in essence, he was Blues, thought like him, acted like him, and, more importantly, viewed the world and its workings like him.

Blues was a fighter, thus was Shadow, though he had no qualms in harming another bioroid, he would no sooner kill them than he would a human.

And so Rock survived.

And so Shadow was punished severely.

And so Wily, in a whirl of embarrassed rage and reprehending frustration, threw himself into the reconstruction of the last generation Robot Masters, making them more powerful, more aggressive, and less like their playful, friendly selves.

It almost felt like losing a family one never wanted to acknowledge.

Except he wouldn't acknowledge even that fact.

THUNK!

Because he couldn't put honesty aside.

THUNK!

Because he was a coward.

THUNK!

Because he was --

"Here you are."

His fluid motion stopped and the tittering emotions fell silent in his head.

'What do you want?' He didn't ask. Elec was probably the one that understood him most, his will to be alone, to bare whatever dogma, whatever devoir he had chosen to take upon himself. But mostly because Elec left him alone, didn't bother him, didn't place his hopes of success upon him.

Because Shadow was --

THUNK!

"He defeated all the Dark Masters."

There was no response. He didn't expect one, but he knew he was being heard.

"Wily-sama's taking it out of everyone. He's especially mad at you and Blues. Especially Blues."

Shadow just looked at the target 20 meters away. He had lined up his stars in a straight line across the red dot like crosshairs, four straight lines waiting to meet in the middle.

"He left a few hours ago. He didn't give a reason."

Even from this distance, placing one star to complete the intersecting lines would be near impossible.

"Just gave Wily-sama one of those smiles and left."

He had never accomplished it before. Before his head swam with inconsistencies.

"Most of the Dark Masters were severely injured."

And now?

"But they're okay."

Now he wasn't certain in anything.

"Except -- "

He clutched his heart --

" -- they're not sure -- "

-- remembering the moment when Eternity came crashing around his face --

" -- if Quick -- "

-- and threw --

" -- will survive."

-- and accomplished the impossible.

The electrical Robot Master watched in a worried silence as the kagemusha straightened. "Shadow?"

"I suppose," he said slowly, "I should check up on him."

He walked away then. Leaving the cross upon the tree as a final testament to the greatness he could have achieved.


He had been there, he knew. His presence filled the room, devoid of his person, with the scent of cool breeze and dew. He could feel his silently thrilling, almost oppressive attendance floating behind him like the dark silhouette that he was.

But he wasn't there now. His ghost imprinted itself on the chair by the bedside, against the wall and doorframe in an infinitely patient yet increasingly annoyed air, arranging the small vase of flowers in an effort to keep from fidgeting yet unable to leave, to practice.

Quick almost felt important.

But he wasn't there now.

And that was what was important.

And Quick had sunken to a level of depression he had never known existed let alone lived within his self. He felt like crying, but was too wound up to start, he felt like cursing, but didn't know how to beginning, he felt like closing his eyes and falling into a violent sleep but was too tired to even sigh. But mostly he felt like running, to find where Shadow had gone, why he had left, why he couldn't stay longer than he already had. He wanted to run again, see him again.

But he couldn't find the courage....

....to face his eyes....

....of violet ice.

He shivered at the memory though his body's coolant system hummed silently beneath his skin against the warm rays of the evening sun.

The door creaked open with minimal noise and Quick turned away from his vigil of the window, of the trees that lined beneath it, trying to not imagine the kagemusha outside, tossing star after star into the abused trunk.

So instead, trying to ignore the pain that throbbed through his head, his limbs, his heart, he focused on Metal, his partner and the one person that ever listened to all his ranting on the infuriating Shadow.

The pain grew louder.

"So how're you feeling?" Metal asked conversationally. In his arms he carried a few irises, dark and velvety. Quick's lips felt dry. "We were all worried about you. What did the blueberry do to you to get you so bad off?" He walked to the vase, shifting the flowers to make room for the iris. Quick clenched his hands, almost telling him to leave the previous arrangement alone. "Wily-sama is pretty mad at us. He's not too happy that he had to spend so much money and time repairing you. Your armor and most of your skeletal frame was warped and burned almost to the point of melt down. What did you do to yourself?"

Quick turned away, all his enthusiasm and energy failing to resurface from direct contact with the talkative Robot Master. He felt cold. He knew Shadow had been here for a while, several hours, his instincts told him, remembering the presence as he slept, hanging desperately somewhere between shutdown and suspension.

So why wasn't anything being mentioned? Even as the teasing remarks Metal was so fond of throwing at him?

"Maa.... It's beginning to get cold. Can't let our little 'Niisan' getting sick, now can we?" Metal joked with a kind smile. He didn't normally call Quick his 'older brother', even as a jest, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the moment. Almost as if nothing had changed. "Do you want me to close the curtains?" His hand moved for the cord.

"No."

It was said with such force, such deep precision, Metal was startled into stillness, not quite sure how to move.

What was almost like --

"Shadow...." he said quietly, watching the sun travel down the windowsill to cascade on the outer wall and into darkness. "Where's Shadow?"

Metal trembled. "I-I don't know who you're talking about."

His hands fisted into metallic bone. "Don't do this to me, Metal. Where. Is. Shadow."

The elder bowed his head, shaking slightly. "We.... we're not allowed to talk about him. Wily-sama... he doesn't want anyone to mention him." He gripped the material of the captured curtain in tight fingers. "We barely managed to talk him out of erasing our memories. He's going to be keeping a close eye on you, though. He says the minute your performance begins to slip because of.... He'll reprogram your data banks."

"So that's it." He murmured in an ironic smile. "Because he couldn't control Blues even when he was created in the manner Wily-sama saw fit...." It was just like him, to just fade away in their minds, nothing but a tickling feeling residing in the unused corner of memory. After all, no one notices the dark when it's light.

"Quick...."

He waved a hand, turning to the window, ready to find the shadow in the brightest of areas. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"But -- "

"Don't keep Elec waiting on my account." He smiled goadingly. Metal turned red, stammering for an excuse until a pillow was thrown in his direction. "Don't give me any lip. I know when you're hiding something from me and I know you've had a thing for him for while. Be glad you can at least get somewhere with the person you want to be with." The smile, though forced, carried an obvious air of distraction, attention drifting out the window once more.

"Quick...." He knew, though the other was -- not quite trying per se –- he wouldn't be able to force himself to be the same robot he was before. Something fluttered gently from its pinned position on the table and his voice became curious. "Quick, what is that?"

He didn't turn to look, he knew what 'that' was.

Taking the silence and lack of movement as permission to pry further, he took up the paper, held in place by a gleaming, unmarked shuriken.

It's hard to say 'how to begin', I suppose the best would be to state that I'm leaving. I was made too much in correspondence of Blues to be anyone but him. Wily will realize that sooner or later, so I shall follow in my predecessor's footprints for now. I shall deal with this matter myself, find myself through him. But I won't pretend that I'm leaving only to distinguish my individuality.

It's also because of you. You've always been different from the other Robot Masters to me, always treating me.... oddly. Making me feel odd. A way that I couldn't handle. I couldn't understand you so I couldn't understand the feelings you evoked from me. The only thing I knew how to do was to ignore the sensations and their source, to lash out against them. Because it frightens me, not being in control of myself, not being able to stop from feeling this.... this.

But I'm a coward. The thought of searching within myself to understand why I feel these emotions that I can't acknowledge, to try and understand myself .... it terrifies me more than anything else. I am a child of the shadow. Running, hiding from the truth is what I do best.

Because, all honesty aside, you're the one that I care about most.

But.... all honesty aside, you're also the one I fear the most.

Shadow

Metal reread the message, then looked up at Quick's melancholy form, staring listlessly out the window, trying to find something that would forever evade his grasp.

"Maybe," he said with less conviction than he had meant. "Maybe.... he'll come back soon."

Quick just sighed in resignation.

"No...."


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