Crimes of the Witness


Ever since you were activated, you knew your entire purpose was to obey and oblige. And you understood and did what you were told without the slightest hesitation or complaint. It was that compliant submissiveness that gained your father's attention.

He wasn't your actual father, just your creator. Everyone had stopped calling him 'Father' several generations back, but you wanted to because he's the one that gave you life and cared. Like a father should.

Or maybe he just cared about you because you listened. Your dearest brother, on the other hand, he hated almost to the point of dismantling. But his anger could be harnessed. Your father knew that. You knew it, too. You don't even know why you cared so much for you brother; he was everything you were told not to be. He was strong, aggressive, cold, disobedient, surly... powerful. He had power, strength, he wasn't helpless like you and he didn't accept helplessness like you did. He fought hard every chance he got against anything and everything. Maybe that's why you cared about him. Maybe that's why you did your one and only defiant act and tried to soothe him. But what could you do when someone as defiant as him is pinned to a table, writhing in agony? What could you do, standing over him with no strength of your own? After all, all you are is helpless.

But you cared from your place on the sidelines. You cared when no one else did and that made him care for you, as well. He was there to protect you and fight for you because you were too weak to do it yourself. And he didn't mind that you were never there to help him when he was being terrorized and ostracized by the other Robot Masters because you were there for him afterwards, holding his wounds and pain after everyone else had turned their backs on him. They either hated him or ignored him, but they all feared him. All but you. Maybe you hero-worshiped him too much, or maybe you just didn't understand the power he had. Or maybe you did and you admired that strength that you could never have. So you cared for him in the darkness, where no one else could associate you with him but where he would be eternally grateful for a friend. At first it seemed an embarrassment, but you soon realized that the embarrassment was really guilt. He did so much for you and you did nothing in return. All you did was cause him trouble. Cause yourself trouble.

The attention was unintentional, you knew. But after they saw you, or rather, their leader's leader saw you, there was no shaking them. But he was only jealous of Father's attention of you. He didn't like having someone else the favored or sharing it with anyone. So he took you, beat you, forced himself on you and the other Enforcers watched and grinned and laughed. They wanted you to scream, to beg, but you wouldn't. After all, you knew you were no match for any of them, what could you do? Fighting was pointless and shouting futile. Everyone could recognize any agony he caused and learned to ignore it. No one would come to your rescue so you took it quietly, helplessly because that was all that you could do.

So he eventually got bored with you and tossed you away for the rest of the Enforcers to fight over. And they took you, one after another in their sadistic, signature way. But when he had you, something in him changed and you could feel it when he searched your eyes, larger than before, a sort of senseless wonder on his childish, maniacal face. He called it love. Your brother called it a sick obsession. You didn't know what to consider anything anymore.

But you knew his nature, but he treated you with respect and tenderness you were unused to. It made you confused and you didn't know what to do. So you just went through the motions of each day with him right behind you, stalking, wanting to possess but, for the most part, keeping to himself. There were many times he gave into the urge and touched you. And you generally took it impassively. You didn't know how to react.

But your brother did. He struck at him any chance he got. Every time they met they would fight. You knew your brother would win each time, he was made to win. But the Enforcers wouldn't let him. They'd stay back in the shadows with Cheshire grins and sadistic giggling. But when theirs seemed bound to lose, struggling, they jumped in and subdued your dear brother, beating him mercilessly as you watched from far away from yourself, helpless.

He never blamed you from not helping. Maybe he understood how powerless you were. Maybe he despised the idea of you being hurt. But he would always grin painfully at you and say how glad he was you were all right. That he'd never let the bastards -- that bastard -- touch you again.

He never blamed you either, calling your brother an uncouth, relentless dip-wad -- Bastard the Barbarian, he said. But he was undeterred from his pursuit. He said once, in a rare seriousness that made you waver on how much of his act wasn't as sincere as some said... he said, holding your face in his hands, thumbs running over your lips, how much he loved your eyes. Had said how hauntingly empty and startlingly sad they were. How they burned in his brain, ate away at his mind and made him yearn for them, for you, every waking moment.

At that point, you didn't know what to believe. So you just let everything happen because you were powerless to stop any of it. Just sitting aside, watching from afar, never participating in the actions that revolved around your being.

There's nothing you could do.

And you stand there. For some reason, perhaps it was the angle in which you perceived the fight, or maybe you realized how they fought so hard over you, you began to think. Maybe, just maybe you actually did have some power. Maybe you could stop them from fighting. After all, he claims he'd do anything you asked him to and your brother said he's do anything to protect you. Maybe you could pull them apart, stop them long enough to figure out what exactly you were feeling.

But you just kept watching, trying to dredge up the courage that kept slipping through your fingers, cowering behind fear that sat under indifference. And all the while you just kept watching. Watching them fight -- for you. Watching the Enforcers waiting for their cue to leap in, cackling as they waited. Watching the other Robot Masters betting and laughing and snorting derisively. And you realize, as you walk away, what could you do in the face of everyone? Of those so much stronger and braver than you? And so you turn to leave things the way they are, destined to make the same mistake and hurting everyone around you. Determined to stay helpless.


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