Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

(A)bort, (R)etry, (F)ail? Pt. 1: Reconfiguration	By : Gimp666 Category: +M through R > Mega Man Views: 3876 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own MegaMan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?

PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION

A/N: Long chapter. @.o Does anyone really still read this? Anyway, working on a small short fic, and I’m pretty sure I’m getting pneumonia again (water on the luuungs~ p.q), so if you don’t see anything from me next Sunday, you can rest assured that it probably was, and that I’m probably dead/dying/recovering again. I love my immune system. Massively busy at work still, but I’m slowly getting over my random writer’s block though I haven’t picked up my pen and started on the second part at all. Sorry, no editing on this again. *goes back to bed to try and sleep again*

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

~ Leo Buscaglia

Chapter Eight – Kind Words

Rock had been right in both aspects. Apart from a few rather nasty sounding nightmares he only ever half woke up from, Forte slept well through the night, and when he finally came around he was alone in the room. As far as Rock could tell, he hadn't even noticed he'd been placed in another room, though he didn't seem to notice much of anything.

When he went upstairs to make sure he was okay, he noticed Forte hadn't even shifted position since waking up. He was still lying on his side, looking somehow fetal to the older robot. And he stayed there like that for the entire day, before finally venturing downstairs. His eyes seemed hollow, almost soulless, and he refused to talk to anyone. Rock had never thought he would miss Forte's verbal abuse, but it was better than this. Anything was better than this.

Roll tried a few times to get him to try a bite or two of dinner, but Forte never so much as cast a glance in her direction, retreating into the other room. She'd left a plate of sweets out, but with little hope of them actually being consumed.

Rock had even caught Blues staring at the violet haired boy reproachfully as if considering going over to talk to him. He refused to go back upstairs, instead pacing in front of the lab door quietly. He never went in, however.

It went on like this for nearly a week, at first Forte's midnight pacing had robbed the Light household of sleep, but then even that slowed, and Forte simply moped. He was doing just that, late Saturday night, when the door creaked open slowly. Rock poked his head out tentatively, understandable considering how their last conversation went. Forte turned his head a little to see who was invading his personal space, then disregarded him, settling back into his original position. He took this as a sign that Forte probably wasn't going to wring his neck again, and creeped over to him. “H-hi Forte. Are you ... Alright?” He perched lightly on the railing of the staircase. Forte didn't even look up, let alone answer, and he sighed, trying again. “I'm really sorry about what happened.”

Nothing. Rock inched a little closer, leaning down more and giving it another try. “Say... If you want, we can share Rush. That way-”

“Go away.” Forte hissed, head still tucked between his knees. “I don't want to share your stupid dog. Do you think that would fix anything? Just leave me alone.” He returned to ignoring the older robot.

Rock regarded him for a few seconds, irritated with the way Forte was handling the situation. It just wasn't healthy. “What good is skulking around the house, staying mad at everyone going to do?” he asked, voice sharper than originally intended. “Gospel died, not you! You're still alive, so start acting like it! Stop running away, like-” Forte grabbed him roughly, thrusting him back against the railing, and they both seemed temporarily lost in their place, each forgetting what they were about to say. The sudden heat of rage had slowly left Forte, and now he just stood, gripping the front of Rock's shirt quietly. “Forte...” he tried again.

“I said leave me alone.” he muttered plaintively, letting go and stalking off around the corner of the house.

Rock watched him go in silence, then sighed, stepping back inside and glancing up, surprised to see Dr. Light standing there. He wondered if they had been fighting that loudly. He felt suddenly ashamed at having lost his temper like that, uncomfortable. “I tried to talk to Forte...” he started, but never finished. He suddenly felt very guilty. “It didn't go very well. I think I said the wrong things. I... I just made him angry.”

Dr. Light sighed, giving him a furtive smile. “I know, I heard.” He closed the distance between them and gave him a slight hug. “You did your best, don't worry. I think this is one of those situations where you should let me try my hand at it.” Rock nodded and he smiled a little. “Don't worry, Forte will be his usual self soon, I would imagine. Not that it's necessarily going to be a good thing.” He winked and Rock cracked a small smile as the old man headed to the door.

He stepped out onto the porch and looked around for Forte, not seeing him at first. Then he spotted him off in the distance, pacing slowly around an old oak tree around the back, tearing strips slowly off a leaf. He slipped his shoes on slowly, then headed over there to join with the Wily bot.

Forte turned slightly, hearing his approaching steps, then looked away quickly to return to the leaf he was currently destroying, but not before Dr. Light got a good look at his face and saw that he was crying again. He sighed heavily. Despite everything else Forte was, there was still a bit of a child left in him somewhere An angry, mistreated child, maybe, the kind likely to start fires in wastepaper baskets and grow to be a real basket case, but still a child. He would have to handle the situation with a lot of caution, that child was packing a lot of fire power if he decided to throw a tantrum.

“Hello, Forte. Care to accompany an old man on an evening stroll?” He fell in step beside Forte, who broke free from the track he was running around the tree, instinctively falling into place slightly behind him, used to his routine of following Wily . There was no such thing as walking next to his creator. Light sensed an uncomfortable tension and slowed down until they walked side by side again, and this time Forte kept the position. He never would have pegged Forte as the type to be afraid of humans. Wily had done a lot of harm to his creation, and he was starting to think even Wily hadn't realized that yet.

They walked on in silence for awhile, Forte's eyes shifting from that dead, haunted look to occasionally look Light over, sometimes with a curious air, sometimes with an almost fearful air. Finally, they arrived at an old bus stop, long since abandoned as Dr. Light had bought off more surrounding property for testing zones and just general privacy. “I hope you don't mind if we rest here for a short while, I'm not as young anymore, and I often come here to think.”

Forte, who hadn't a word during the course of their evening stroll, simply nodded and stood next to the bench like a posted guard, staring ahead at nothing, being slowly consumed by the guilt, sadness, and anger in his thoughts, and the skeletons in his closet. Gospel would have loved a walk like this, and if Forte hadn't fucked up, then he may have been sitting here with him, enjoying all this, but Forte had fucked up bad, and-

Dr. Light, seeing the inner torment occurring on Forte's pale face and intense stare, set a hand on his head lightly, soothingly, and broke the chain of thoughts straightaway. “Come sit down.” He pulled Forte onto the bench next to him, and Forte tensed sharply, but the doctor made no movement past that, finally speaking after a long pause. “It's a nice night for some long, reflective thought. The stars are especially clear, I find it helps me think.”

“Not for me they're not.” Forte mumbled lowly; it was the first thing he'd said since his outburst, and probably the first thing he'd said toward how he was really feeling. He didn't care how clear they were, as far as he was concerned, they didn't exist. Only that thick, dark blanket of depression existed for him now.

He settled down on the bench again, having made room enough for Forte to have a little space between them. “I know it hurts. But you're not alone anymore. This isn't going to be like before, Forte.” That knowledge alone seemed to hold some weight with the boy and he suddenly seemed a little more animated.

Forte stared at him quietly, still looking a little dazed, but listening this time. His eyes had cleared up a little. “Dr. Light...”

He smiled a little, that was a lot nicer than what he was sure Forte had used to call him in his absence. “Tom, Forte.” He'd told all his creations countless times they could call him Tom if they wanted, or dad if they really felt comfortable enough, but so far only Rock had made the change successfully. He had a feeling Forte might appreciate something less formal, though.

“Tom, then.” He stopped at that, eyes threatening to lose themselves in his thoughts again, but he pressed on finally, reluctantly. “... I... loved Gospel.” The word sounded awkward and strange rolling off of Forte's tongue, but Light said nothing. “I don't really know what love is... but I know it's how I felt about him.” He fell quiet, working his jaw slowly, not sure what to say, worried anything he might would come out ridiculous. “It's all over for me now. He was all I had...” The light that had made a brief reappearance in his eyes seemed to fade, dying out a little again, and he withdrew into himself a little.

The old man tilted Forte's chin up from where it was drooped over his collarbone, so the boy could see the sky. “It's not over. The world's still around, Forte. Time's still passing.” He would have said more, but the reaction was almost immediate. The violet haired boy hadn't moved, but a small tremor coursed up through him, like an elastic that had been stretched too tight and was getting ready to just snap and lash anything too close to it at the time. His eyes had clouded over and that all too familiar hate was back in them. He prepared himself for Forte to blow up or to just crumple, yet he did neither.

The voice that came out was tight and small with many emotions, fear likely the dominant one. “Don't, please. If you came out here for that...” Dr. Light moved his hand away and Forte's voice went with it. He felt ill suddenly, and resting a hand on the back of his head, realized he was covered with a sheen of sweat. Everything was starting to spiral out of control now, with a speed that was nearly dizzying. Had he really come here to seek sanctuary? Had he thought it would be different?

Light saw he was starting to give way to barely contained panic and slid back over, giving him space. “Forte, calm down. I'm not Wily, I wouldn't do that to you.” He had a few seconds to realize that this was going to be the moment he snapped before it happened.

Forte glared at him, voice little more than a hoarse whisper, but it didn't hinder him from conveying the message he intended to send. The fear, hate, anger, panic, all the emotions he'd kept bottled up flew out in a single moment, colliding with each other and snowballing to frightening proportions. “Liar! You fucking perverted liar! You get me out here alone, and now you're going to-”

“Forte, calm down.” he asserted firmly, knowing it was of no real use and wondering if he should have had this conversation somewhere less private and more comfortable, more safe for the both of them. He would have suggested it to him, but Forte was on a full diatribe now, and kept right on going as his voice rose steadily to a yell. He wouldn't have listened to the older man now, even if he had made the offer.

“-fuck me! Oh yeah, coming here was a mistake, no wonder you were so eager to let me in, but it's too late to leave now, and now you're going to have me, it's time to pay the piper, and-”

“Forte.”

“-the bill's never-”

“Forte.”

“-cheap, is it.” He broke off now, suddenly looking every bit as dead as he had live and animated only seconds before. The colour had left his face, leaving it an ashen grey against deceivingly bright violet stripes... His eyes were still alive, though, and even the steely, contemptuous glare in his eyes couldn't mask the underlying spite and fear.

“I wouldn't.” Forte didn't say anything else, and he let silence fall between them, though it was thick and uncomfortable this time. Forte was gathering his thoughts, letting the conversation catch up with him, for better or worse. Dr. Light settled back against the concrete again, ignoring the arthritic pain in his hips, burning and swelling, promising another sleepless night. He wanted to get up and stretch, move away from the damp, mossy growth on the bench, encouraging and deepening the ache while cushioning his body from the rough, hard concrete, but he didn't dare try to move away. The conversation wasn't over yet, he could sense it. “That's not how we do things here, Forte. Not at all.”

Forte nodded slightly, shifting slowly until his feet rested on the moss in front of his body, fighting pain of his own as his skin pulled tight against cuts and scrapes that were in the process of healing and that now familiar, raw ache at the base of his spine, just a phantom of what it had once been. He rested his chin atop his knees and seemed to fade, withdrawing into himself for awhile.

Dr. Light let him, preparing himself for whatever was coming next, something almost impossible when dealing with someone who currently was an emotional roller coaster. At first he thought it would be another sharp outburst of anger, but it never came. A long time passed, Forte completely stationary. He had just begun to think that maybe that was it after all, maybe Forte had fallen asleep when he finally spoke up again, the anger and most of the rest of his emotion completely gone from his voice.

“Tom.” He was still in the same position, body slack, but his head was turned toward him, cheek rested between the rise of his knees, face slightly cradled. His eyes had a dark, almost murky look to them, as though he was stirring from a deep sleep, and there was a slight crease on his cheek from a fold in his jeans.

Dr. Light doubted he'd slipped off for even a second, though. He doubted Forte would rest well for awhile yet. He gave him a weak, furtive smile. “Yes, Forte?” He shifted again, turning to face him more, and this time his hips really did creak with a faint snapping noise, like a dry twig.

“Wily fucked me.” He wasn't sure why he felt the need to state it so bluntly, the old man had to have known, he'd woken up in considerably less pain than when he'd passed out, hadn't he? It hadn't fixed itself, at least he didn't think so. It seemed so long ago, somehow, and it was hard to remember. Everything felt distant now, and he wondered esoterically if he was depressed.

Thomas was a little startled by the frank proclamation. There was little change in his face, and there was something earnest in his gaze that left him too heartbroken to correct his poor choice in words. The boy was starting to open up, and a reprimand might slam the proverbial door he'd let open a crack. He sighed softly. “I know he did, Forte. I know what he did to you.” In a way he knew better than even Forte did, he had seen what the poor boy hadn't been able to, knew how reckless Wily had been with his creation's more delicate region. With haemorrhaging like there had been, a human probably would have died. The pain must have been ungodly.

Forte was still staring at him, face a mask. “He raped me, then he fucked me up.”

“I know, Forte.” Light murmured consolingly.

“Then he killed Gospel, just to fuck me up more.”

“It's okay, Forte.” A little life had returned to Forte's eyes, and Light decidedly didn't like the look in them. There was hate in them, and he had a feeling it was more self loathing than it was directed toward Wily or anyone else. It wasn't a good look.

“Is it?” At first it seemed like badly conveyed sarcasm, but Forte was genuinely seeking an answer. “I don't think it is. I can't let it go. Gospel died because I fucked up.”

“Forte-” Light tried and was abruptly cut off.

“Because of me.”

“Forte, that's not how it is.” he tried again. But forte wouldn't hear it, he could tell. He had to let the venom he held in him, before it poisoned him further.

“He wouldn't have done it if I hadn't failed, you know. It's because of me. And now I'm alone.” His posture was still the same, still relaxed and cool, but his eyes still glowered.

Light sighed, choosing his words well, then tried again. “I know it seems that way now, but it was Wily's wrong doing, not yours. He would have done it sooner or later.” Forte was shaking his head, he pressed on. “You'll have to forgive yourself eventually. I understand it's easier this way, but-”

Forte laughed, it wasn't a malicious laugh, but a sharp, braying laughter, filled with self loathing and sounding almost crazy. “You understand. You haven't the slightest idea.”

“I understand, Forte. Sometimes it's easier to blame yourself. It feels more rational, and it makes the situation easier to handle.” Forte's eyes flooded with hot, angry tears suddenly, and he reached over, resting a hand over his shoulders. The boy tried to throw it off wildly, but he kept it there, offering him his handkerchief.

“Go ahead, let it out. Rock had a point, although he doesn't realize how deep to the bone your wounds are, They're so deep they're cutting into your very being, and wounds like that have to be licked, or they'll poison your mind, like a bad infection. Just don't suffer it alone. No one's going to use it against you, or hurt you. We don't do that kind of thing here. I don't do that kind of thing.” He sighed, looking thoughtful, and murmured. “You should talk to Blues sometime, if you ever get the chance.”

Forte took the handkerchief and cried long and hard into it, but this time there was now howling or self destructive behaviour. When he was done they got up together and started back in a pair. Light promised to do what he could for Gospel, but not to get his hope up. It was the last time Forte cried for a long, long time.

~~~~~~~

When they arrived back at the house, Rock was waiting for them worriedly. They had been gone for a few hours, and he was starting to think something had happened to them. Dr. Light could have fallen, or worse yet, Wily might have come looking for Forte. But they both looked fine, as far as he could tell. Better than fine, actually. Forte's face looked less pale and strained than it had since the day he had arrived, over a week ago. As the two got closer, he found that Forte even had the faintest hint of a smile on his face while the doctor regaled him with an old tale from his younger days.

“... and that's when I realized that psychology just wasn't my cup of tea. There's no room for truth in that field, believe it or not.” He smiled up at Rock, spotting him, and broke away from Forte, heading up the steps tot he house. “Still, some of my best memories are from my high school days. Ah, to be a boy again.” He pat Rock's head as he passed, ruffling his hair lightly and giving no indication of what had happened during his time alone with Forte. He would take that to the grave, being a firm believer in confidentiality. “Night, boys. Don't stay up all night, you need your rest as much as anyone else, despite what Blues seems to think.”

“Night, dad.” Rock called after him with a smile, unable to hide the relief he felt. That could have gone worse, in fact, judging by the look of things, it had gone rather well. He yawned widely and gave a small gasp while exhaling, when he heard Forte call after the old man in a polite and almost cheerful voice.

“Goodnight, Tom.” The taller boy lifted a hand up in a pseudo wave, fingers splayed slightly. The door shut and his arm dropped back down to his side as the two robots were left to contend with each other. The smile fell from his face slowly, and he found himself staring at Rock and feeling awkward, hoping he wouldn't ask what happened. That somehow seemed like a very bad thing, and he'd had his fill of that for awhile. He passed him quickly, heading for the door.

“Forte?” He turned his head slightly, and Rock stared at him, hesitating a moment before continuing. “Do you feel... better?” Forte looked exceedingly uncomfortable with that question, and he added quickly, “you look a lot better, and I thought maybe you might want to go to the park tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it. I'm taking Rush.”

Forte didn't answer, staring at him analytically and apparently thinking it over, so he continued. “It's not too far from here, and no one ever goes there, so we'll have lots of privacy, and-” He stopped, surprised. Forte was nodding his head slowly, as if surprised to find himself agreeing to it. He fought back an ecstatic response, not wanting to overwhelm the younger bot, and just smiled wider.

“As long as it's not at the crack of dawn.” He yawned, mostly for show, and retreated into the house quickly, heading for the living room and pausing as he passed the door leading to Dr. Light's laboratory. For the first time since he'd dragged Gospel to the driveway, he passed it without going in. For reasons unknown to him, he decided to trust Dr. Light on his promise to do his best for his support unit and try to make the best of things. As he lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, he hoped he wasn't setting himself up for a big disappointment. If there was such a thing as too good to be true, he was staring it in the face.

He heard the door creak open slowly as Rock slipped into the house, trying not to wake Forte up. He closed his eyes as he heard Rock's footsteps draw nearer, feigning sleep. They stopped as Rock stood there a moment watching him, then he heard them slowly retreat. He didn't want to talk to him right now, he found that while he really didn't hate Rock anymore – maybe he was too busy hating himself – he still didn't like the older robot all that much. He hoped the excursion to the park would change that a little, because they were going to be around each other for what could potentially become a very long time.

He rolled over, facing an old couch cushion quietly, and thought back to the last serious conversation he'd had with Tom before they had switched over to lighter topics. He had been following the older man quietly, staring at the driveway he had originally arrived from, off in the distance now, when the man had spoken up suddenly, as though he had known what Forte had been thinking. “You don't have to leave.”

Forte had glanced up at him, startled, and Tom had continued. “When you're done healing, you can keep right on staying if you'd like. In fact, I would like you to, and I know I'm not the only one. It's safer.” He hadn't said it was because he thought Forte would end up back in Wily's hands if he was on his own, but then he hadn't really needed to. Wily was apt to find him sooner or later if Forte was out living with the general populace, unless he ran pretty damned far. And that was something he wasn't likely to do if there was a chance of Gospel being repaired.

Forte had thought it over for a few moments, knowing that it was the best chance if he planned on living, then he had agreed.

He lay awake until well into the early morning, wondering what his new life was going to be like. When he finally did fall asleep, there was a feeling of relief he hadn't had in a long, long time.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

(A)bort, (R)etry, (F)ail? Pt. 1: Reconfiguration