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(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
- 8
- 9
- 10
(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?

PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION

A/N: Wow I’m late with this. >_>;;; sorry guys, but I at least have a good excuse XD;;; In the last month or so I’ve been sick in every way possible, so with that, plus the launch on our new company at work PLUS Christmas/New Years, etc. I just didn’t get the time to update @.o; So instead, I took the small chapter I was originally going to post, and stuck it together with the longer one, creating a super*chapter for this week, to make up for it.

I can’t promise I won’t disappear like this again for a few weeks, unfortunately. I’ve been so utterly sick that I’ve had a hard time making it through my shifts day to day, but I can’t afford to not go to work. This leaves me with little time outside of work when I’m really functioning and feeling up to stuff. I’ve got a lot of doctors appointments and whatnot coming up, and I’m supposedly going to get a call from my doctor’s with a specialist appointment at some point in my life. >_>; “Free” healthcare is a double edged sword. .-.;;

Anyway, enjoy the chapter, things are finally starting to push ahead in the fic, my god this one’s so long XD;;; And again, sorry. .-.;

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

~Anatole France

Chapter Nine - Adjustments

Forte sighed to himself as he slipped the t-shirt that Rock had lent him for their little excursion to the park on, rolling his eyes a little at how tight it was on him. A glance down showed how short Rock really was, the shirt ended just short of his navel, leaving an inch or two of bare flesh before the tight track pants he had also borrowed – ending somewhere along the shins and looking more like a pair of Capri’s than anything. Great. It was bad enough that he was getting molested by old men, he thought bitterly, but now he looked like a pedophile’s wet dream. He heard footsteps approaching and looked up, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Blues wandered into the room, took one glance at him, and bit back a rather loud snort. Forte felt colour rise to his cheeks angrily, and sighed, focusing on the floor as if there were something incredibly interesting there. Blues shrugged apologetically, though it never reached the grin plastered on his face and he didn’t really look the part. He shook his head, glancing him over. “You look utterly ridiculous.”

“I noticed, thanks.” Forte shot him a rather nasty glare, and sighed. “I look about as gay as I feel in this stupid getup.” He tried to tug his shirt down more, sighing. “Isn’t there a jacket or something I can use? This is just degrading.” Blues reached into the closet, pulling out a long jacket and tossing it to him before taking a seat.

Forte slipped it on quickly and sighed in relief. Though it didn’t come down as far as the jacket was originally intended, it at least kept his midsection from view, and hid how painted on tight the shirt was. That was a start. “That any better?” He grumbled, trying to look more relaxed and failing.

“If you can call a dinner jacket and some track clothes that are waaay too small for you “better” than you look just grand. But it helps.” He pat next to him, leaning back and keeping a brow raised. “Come here. I want to talk to you for a minute, before you go anywhere with my little brother.” The vague smile on Blues’ lips was gone now, replaced instead with a slight frown.

Forte groaned inwardly and sat down next to him, settling back and preparing for a lecture. Blues’ hand came down on his shoulder with a steely grip, and he frowned more, reaffirming Forte’s belief that this was not going to be a chat about not talking to strangers. “You say you’re here to start over, and I’m willing to believe that to a degree, but you’d do well to remember whose brother you’re going to pal around with.”

Forte tugged his arm free quickly , he still didn’t like being touched much, and gave him a sour glance. “I’m not that stupid. I’m not up to anything, I just want to get out of the house. I don’t even like him.” Blues didn’t seem to like this comment very much, and he leaned in dangerously close.

“I’m keeping my eye on you, Forte, so it would be pretty stupid of you to try anything with him. If you so much as look at him the wrong way…” But Forte wasn’t listening. Blues was in full lecturing mode, and he was too busy trying to put as much space between them as the loveseat could possibly allow. Blues frowned more at that, watching him closely behind his darkly tinted glasses, but didn’t call him on it.

He spoke again, but his voice was less threatening, less warning. “Don’t’ fuck around, and you don’t have anything to worry about. Alright?” His face still had a deep frown glued on it, but it seemed somehow void now, his mind was on other things.

Forte nodded a little, embarrassed at his flinching, but not about to let anyone get that close to him again anytime soon. “Yeah, sure. I’m just doing it to shut him up.” He wanted nothing more than to get up and move away from the eldest Lightbot, but doing so would make him look and feel like a pussy, and he didn’t back down from confrontation. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Blues recognized that aggressive streak right away, surprised at how relieved he was to see it. Maybe things would finally get back to normal. “You just thinking about that.” He got up, staring at him thoughtfully for a moment, then headed up the stairs quietly, leaving him to slip his shoes on and find Rock.

Forte was just tying up the last lace to an old pair of running shoes he’d found in the closet, when he heard Rock speak up from behind him loudly. He sounded ridiculously cheery, almost to the level of someone who just won the jackpot in the lottery. That sent an irritated shiver up his spine, considering it was just a trip to the damned park.

“You’re really coming!”

Forte rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m coming, you idiot. I told you I was going to come.” He was still a little creeped out by his conversation with Blues. Had he honestly thought that he was going to screw around with Rock? If he did that, he’d have nowhere to go, and a face full of stitches to contend with alone, having no one to pull them, just to add insult to injury. “What’s wrong with you people?” he muttered to himself, but Rock hadn’t seemed to have heard anyway.

“I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to come, though.” He looked immensely relieved, and Forte got the feeling that he had been almost sure that Forte wasn’t going to come at all, and had already been preparing himself for the disappointment. How unreliable did everyone think he was?

And how stupid. He really couldn’t afford to have Rock sore at him right now, not until he was at least more healed. Sure, the old man had said he could stay, but people made a lot of promises, and seemed to break them a lot, How often did they really keep them anyway? He wasn’t stupid, he knew he wasn’t out of the fire yet.

“Let’s just go before it gets hot out.” He sighed, following Rock down the driveway and out to the park, checking out his surroundings as he went.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rock pitched the ball for Rush again, watching the dog bound off after it, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Things had been going a lot better since Dr. Light had pulled Forte aside and talked to him almost a week ago. He still had no idea what the words passed between them had been, and probably never would, but it had worked wonders. Not that he was surprised, really.

Despite the older man's jokes on the subject, he hadn't stopped taking psychology after high school, and had actually managed a degree in it over the years. Sometimes Rock thought that was why the robots he built always turned out so well. He didn't just understand how they functioned, like Wily. He understood how they thought, and used that to help guide them through life's tougher decisions. And he was good at it too, really good.

Rush bounded back to him and dropped the ball back in his hand, immediately taking off after it again as Rock threw it further. Still, Forte was a hard case to crack, and he thought it would be a long time before the violet haired boy really adjusted, if he ever did. His father was amazing at what he did, but couldn't walk on water or part the Red Sea, and he suspected it would take nothing short of a miracle for Forte to ever really recover from what had happened.

He never given much thought to how much Gospel must have meant to the younger robot. He hadn't really thought about it until the night he'd offered to share Rush with him. He loved Rush, he was a good dog, and he would be upset if he lost him, but... It was different. He'd spent hours going over that argument before he really understood Forte's situation. Gospel wasn't just a pet to him, or a support unit, or even a friend. The wolf represented Forte's entire sense of family.

Rock had made himself think of how he would feel if his entire family was suddenly taken from him. Not just removed from his present life, but gone forever, without any home of ever seeing them again. Completely wiped from the face of the planet. The thought had caused a gut wrenching feeling, and he'd almost pushed it from his mind completely, not wanting to think about it.

But he had. He'd thought long and hard , then he'd furthered it by trying to imagine himself then being forced to leave everything he had ever known, his home, his lifestyle, everything familiar and comfortable and being made to live with strangers, people he didn't really know or like, not to mention that they were likely rather not fond of him.

The thought had left him feeling sick. He was always going on and on to Forte about how badly he wanted to be friends with the boy, but what steps had he ever really taken toward it? What had he done to try and make Forte more comfortable where he was? How much of a friend had he actually been? After that he hadn't slept at all, he'd simply lay awake the rest of the night, laden with guilt because the answer was simple – he hadn't been much of a friend at all. He'd been a pretty good host, but that was it.

And he had been trying since to rectify his mistake, hard as that was. He wandered over to Forte, who was leaned back against a tree with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and his eyes shut, looking a little too relaxed.

The violet haired boy opened an eye, gold swimming in the sunlight cast into its iris, and gave a slight grunt of acknowledgement. He couldn't really be bothered to muster up much more than that. The nightmares had started up four nights ago, and had since been robbing him steadily of sleep. Unfortunately, without much sleep he had started doing some pretty stupid things.

Such as the point in case. He had fallen sleep with a cigarette in his mouth, something to add to the Great Ideas list, but it had only been for a few moments, smoke was still spiralling off the stick idly, and there was only half an inch or so of ash capping the end, so it couldn't have been much longer than that. Not that big a deal, but still...

Still, he thought a little undisturbed rest was almost worth dealing with a couple of burned lips. He doubted Rock would grant him his rest, however. “What?” he asked finally, when Rock settled next to him under the cool shade of the trees.

Rock sighed at him, and he could tell the older robot was just itching to chide him. “I really wish you wouldn't do that, it can't be good for you filtration system, you know.” He pulled the cigarette from Forte's lips, who rolled his eyes at that, then gave it a light flick away from them. Forte wondered irritably if the little bastard knew he was littering, little self-righteous bastard that he was, but Rock interrupted, taking advantage of the fact that he had his attention. “Besides, you fell asleep again, like yesterday.”

Forte opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off. “You've been doing that a lot, lately.” It was a non-committal comment, but the wheels were slowly turning in Rock's head, and Forte suddenly looked uncomfortable. This was it. “If the couch is too uncomfortable, you can just say, Forte. Blues complains about it all the time, says he's going to get impaled on a spring one of these days.”

Forte bit back a surprisingly bitter comment at that.

Let the poison.

He only wished his problems were something that simple. Still, it kept Rock from asking unnecessary questions, with even more unnecessary answers. That was something he didn't want, the thought almost caused a small shudder in him. That would be the ultimate embarrassment, having to tell Rock he was having nightmares and he almost couldn't handle them. “It sucks, but losing a little sleep won't kill me.” Losing his mind, though...

Rock considered this a second. It was something else, that much was obvious, but he could tell Forte wasn't about to tell him what. He doubted Forte would confide anything him unless he tried a little harder to get to really know him. “What to have a sleepover, then?” Forte groaned rather audibly at that, obviously not very fond of the idea, and he pressed on. “Come on, it could be fun. We could rent some movies, and maybe play some cards. At the very least, if it bores you, you could always sleep, and get some real rest. It's bound to be better than sleeping on the couch.”

Rock was staring at Rock, trying to decide whether or not he was actually serious. That wasn't just a stupid idea, it was outright retarded. He opened his mouth to tell him that of course it would be boring, not to mention idiotic, and there was no way he was going to do it, but somehow that got mixed up somewhere and came out as “sure”. Maybe he was retarded, not the idea.

Let the poison.

Rush came trotting back to the boys, but Rock didn't throw the ball again. Instead, he pulled Forte to his feet, who went grudgingly, and they picked up a few movies and a deck of cars at the local rental store. Forte spent a good part of the walk wondering whether he'd lost his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hit me.”

“Rock, you're at twenty.”

“Hit me! It's an ace for sure!”

“... That's retarded. Fine, you asked for it.”

“Hurry up and hit me!”

Forte rolled his eyes and hit him. It wasn't an ace, of course, it was a six, but he wasn't really surprised. Rock hadn't won a single hand. “You're bust. God, Rock, you're awful at this game. I've never won on an eight before.” The movie had been dull, but his game of cards with Rock had proven to be interesting indeed.

Rock's luck with fighting on the field apparently held no weight in other areas of his life – he was so bad it was actually funny. Forte had set himself up to cheat if need be, but he hadn't had to do it once, the cards under his knee long since forgotten. He mused that next time he would have to play for money. Rock made it so easy for him.

“Huh. I really thought I had you there.” Rock sighed, tossing his cards over to Forte for shuffling, and Forte was almost sure he meant it, too. The fact that he was actually trying to win made it even funnier, and he laughed in spite of himself. How was it possible for someone to be this bad at something as easy as blackjack?

Maybe we should switch to something else, like Go Fish.” he offered, still grinning a little. Who would have ever thought he would one day be sitting in Rock's bedroom, kicking his ass mercilessly at a game of cards and laughing? He certainly hadn't.

“Oh, please don't.” Rock said quickly, “I'm dreadful at that game.” That caused Forte to laugh harder, and the older boy chuckled with him, happy to see some improvement in Forte's mood. “I'm actually pretty good at most games, even video games. If Wily challenged me to a game of Tetris instead of sending robot masters after me, the world would have been his a long, long time ago.” Forte fell silent at that, laughter dying in his chest, and a jaded look fell over his face. Rock felt a stab of guilt at mentioning Wily in front of him after what he'd been thought. He tried to apologize quickly. “I'm-”

“I fucking hate Tetris.” Forte said sourly, and they stared at each other for a few seconds before they both started laughing again. The general atmosphere lightened more after that, but Rock could tell that something had changed in Forte after he'd mentioned Wily's name. He let Forte alone, however, sensing that it just wasn't the time to ask him what was wrong. He felt something like appreciation coming from Forte. He was good at guarding his thoughts from Rock, but his eyes still gave him away when he had something thrown at him out of left field.

He suddenly wanted to get to know Forte more than ever, and help rid the younger boy of the pain in his eyes for good. He didn't want Forte to dislike him, he wanted to be a real friend to him this time. “Want to go to the arcade tomorrow?” he asked suddenly, not really expecting much of an answer after what had happened.

Forte looked up from the cards he was shuffling, smiling a little though it looked more like a grimace than anything. “No cash, sorry.” He shrugged indifferently, Forte couldn't remember ever having much money on him before. He spent so much time locked up in the fortress that he never had time to spend it anyway. He returned to the deck quietly, shuffling expertly.

Rock would have offered him money if he thought for even a second Forte would take it, but he knew Forte was too prideful for that and didn't even bother. “We can play games here instead. That's free...” Forte nodded in agreement to that, and he flopped back on his pillow lazily, glad he was going to get the chance to hang out with him again the following day. He'd been so bored lately…

An uncomfortable silence fell between them and he continued more for the sake of filling it than anything. “You know, I help dad out in the lab sometimes, and he pays me for it. That's how I get my money. He's always looking for a hand with something, especially now that he's getting older.”

Forte lay back on the other side of the bed, so Rock could stretch his legs out., and rolled his eyes. “Now that was just stupid. Don't you remember what happened the last time I had access to Tom's laboratory and all the important files he kept in it?”

Rock nodded slightly. “Of course I do, but things are different now. You should ask him, then we can go to the arcade, and maybe to the batting cages or something sometime. I'm pretty good at soccer.” He shifted onto his side so he could stare at him, and Forte quickly caved under Rock's scrutinizing gaze. He knew Forte was trying to avoid having to go talk to Dr. Light about it.

“Alright, alright. I'll ask him in the morning. Now turn the damned movie off, it sucks.” He paused for a moment, as if contemplating something, then added. “If you stop bugging me, I'll show you a new card game.” He ignored the offended look Rock gave him at being told he was being obnoxious, and sighed in relief when the movie was turned off. Rock was staring at him expectantly.

“What's it called?” he asked finally, when Forte offered no explanation.

“Fifty-two card pick up. Want to try it?” No way was Rock going to fall for it, of course. It was the oldest trick in the book, and the Lightbot had two older siblings, but still, he couldn't resist. It was like an unspoken rule of card-play. You had to ask the question. So of course he found himself mildly shocked when Rock answered. Apparently Rock had nicer siblings than he’d thought.

“Okay, how's it played?”

Rock stared at Forte with a bewildered smile as fifty-two cards suddenly rained from Forte's outstretched hand onto the blankets, meaning of the game not yet occurring to him.

“Okay, now pick them up.”
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(A)bort, (R)etry, (F)ail? Pt. 1: Reconfiguration