Disclaimer: All characters belong to Capcom. Blind, Dr. Asuhara, and random people thrown in, unfortunately, belong to me. Blind only belongs to me until the very end, where his 'secret identity' is revealed and I must return him to his proper owners. Damn him.

Warnings? Well, mild (and soaked) nudity, but should that count?

Chapter 2

In the past...

"I had a nightmare."

A dark eyebrow arched over a pair of shades. "You called me because you had a bad dream. I thought you were older than that."

Rock pouted, picking at the food in front of him. "I thought big brothers were supposed to comfort their siblings, not berate them."

"I'm not berating you. This is what those silly fleshies call, 'teasing'." A fingerful of fries were snitched from under Rock's nose, and while he jerked up in surprise, Blues snorted as he scrutinized the salted, golden creation of starch. "God, I hate McDonald's." He ate what he stole.

Rock made a nasally noise of protest, bent on protecting his order; he pulled the hideously-colored tray closer to his person. "I wanted to talk to about my dream, not give you more excuses to be a hypocrite."

At that, Blues smirked airily. "I hate the establishments; I said nothing about hating the food, despite its poor quality."

While not the epitome of exaggerated shock, Rock -was- startled silly. As casual a remark it was, it divulged far more what a human would take for granted, all facts considered. "You indulge in junkfood??"

Blues shrugged a shoulder with disinterest. "Who doesn't? So what did you dream about?"

Disregarding his food, Rock puckered his lips in thought and dropped his chin into his palms. "Well, it was strange. ....It felt more like a memory than a dream." A blush graced the bridge of his nose. "A little too intimate and exaggerated, and...well, there's no /way/ landscapes and people morph like they did."

He went on to recall the events of the vision, skipping around the more grotesque details, but still conveyed its creepy setting. And Blues sat there, quietly taking in everything he was told like a professional 'listener' would.

"The eyes I saw before the end were the worst." Rock sagged; just thinking about it rained depressin over his head. "They held so much hatred and sadistic lusts. ...They wanted to mutilate and desecate everything they could get their hands on before letting it all burn in a wave of infernal fire. And it...it felt like I really went through something that..that...--"

"That morbid and outlandish?"

Rock shrugged helplessly and sipped his drink. "For lack of better words."

"Well," said Blues, kicking back on his side of the booth, "whatever you say it is, it was a dream which might have spawned from your urges to rehabilitate Forte. Yanno, before something permanently damaging occurs. Nothing more."

Rock's brow creased with worry. "I don't know," he trailed off, "but I keep getting this feeling it's connected to that...swirly disk..whatzit thing."

A tiny smile tugged at Blues' lips as Rock flailed his arms. As if that would help his vocabulary. "Rock, it was no sweat. We were pulled in and came out the other side. Nothing happened."

Rock frowned at his brother. That's suspicious in itself. You were all over that thing. "Then why were you unconscious when we came out the other side?"

"What does it matter?" he asked airily. "You're alive, I'm alive, Forte's still a bitch, and the mutts are just dandy."

"I just..." Rock looked down at the isle floor, putting a fist to his chest. "I just wish you would let Light-san scan you for any irregularities in your system. It would make me feel so much better."

Blues sighed softly and pushed the shades to rest on his forehead, catching the younger 'bot's attention with the movement. "I've made many readjustments to myself, kid. If he were to go by my original blueprints,-- it's all he's got-- then he would find a million things different." He licked at his top lip. "Rokku, if there was something wrong with me, I would know it. Six days is more than enough time for a problem to arise...if there was one."

Rock's expression saddened drastically; he was having a difficult time believing his brother. But there's nothing I can do. "Alright... Alright. I trust you."

In the present...

The moment X pushed open the infirmary doors, he was assaulted by the vulgar shrieks of his injured underling, a slew of curses accented with pain and fear. He was the first admitted patient of the day and thus, could have qualified for some luck. However, luck was not on Okudo's side this time; a humorless smile crept at his lips, seeing just who was at the wheel of his Sargeant's treatment.

The busy medical personel swarmed about like ants, following the head doctor's orders as if hypocratic commandments, while said Jesus patched Okudo up within his acquired style of method.

"Dammit, dammit-- Shit! Why the fuck didn't you shut me down, you rat-fucking basta~AAAAH!" X grimaced and weaved around the Lifesavor droids, approaching Aesculapius from behind. "So what's the deal?"

Okudo looked up to the familiar voice and hysterical relief flooded over the slightly pudgy face. "Oh man! Commander, please tell this sadistic asshole to put me under, PLEASE!"

Ignoring Okudo's pleas for mercy, X risked a glance over Aesculapius' shoulder. The medic was reconstructing the reploid's leg using a mecurial templating laser; the azure-armored Hunter frowned. "You certainly know how to push the ethnics of physicians, Aesclad."

Aesculapius snorted, cutting the power to the laser with a flick of his ring finger. "Getting hurt is a double-edge sword of pain. If you're stupid and careless to get injured, you don't deserve to get out of the pain it takes to fix the damaged. A life lesson. Besides," the blonde hit Okudo in the shoulder, indicating for him to pay attention as well, "you're Elites. You should be able to handle the pain."

Okudo had tears hanging out of his eyes. "Have mercy!"

The reploid medic cast an icy glare at Okudo, putting a delicate hand on his hip. "Would you rather I tear the leg off right now and start to replace it from scratch?"

The Elite yelped and grabbed at his still-useless leg, shaking his head insistently. Pleased, Aesculapius smirked. "Good," he purred, before collecting a passing Lifesavor and gave it orders to switch Okudo off and restart the repairs on him.

Finally, he focused on X. "I doubt you came down here just to see how your subordinate was fairing under my 'torture'."

X gave a half smile; Aesclad was always quick. "Can I talk to you in private?"

Faster than one could say 'hallelujah', Aesculapius hooked his arm into X's and dragged him off to his office. Passing through the recovery ward, awoken patients eyed them curiously, baffled at what Aesclad was planning for the 17th commander.

Aesculapius' personal space was as cluttered as a unkempt filing cabinet and felt as small as a closet. X half-lidded his eyes as the doctor closed the door behind them. "I thought you said this place was cleaned up."

"Nooo," drawled the blonde, depositing his lavender-armored self into his chair. "I said it was 'cleaner', not 'cleaned up'."

Snort. "Could've fooled me. This place screams 'bonfire'. Can't you put them on disk?"

Aesculapius gave a thin smile. "Secret: they are. This is just to discourage people."

"Like your sadistic tendencies?"

"Pshaw. Hardly. That's more like taking out my frustration." The mechanical doctor narrowed his eyes. "The Septenary have still refused my request to be transfered from staff to field duty. According to them, I'm the best damned doctor in this whole facility and they can't afford having me play Cowboys and Indians.

"Of course, with all the complaints they received about /how/ I am the best, I'm surprised I haven't been transfered sooner... or even destroyed, what with all the prescribed Maverick scans I have to take."

X arched an eyebrow. "How many times are you at?"

"Down to four times a week, yeah baby," he said unenthusiastically. He shoved a stack of papers to the side, a handful falling to the floor; Aesclad disregarded them. Instead, he just folded his hands and placed them in his lap. "So what can I do for you, Commander?"

X left his spot by the door and sat down in a cheap leather-brown chair, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "I used the Giga Crush without the armor again."

Aesculapius quirked an eyebrow, his attention at full now. "I know we talked about this, X. Did your systems overheat like last time?"

X shook his head. "No malfunctions or anything out of the ordinary."

"...Odd." The blonde swiveled around in his chair and punched up a screen on his holo-console. With a butterfly's touch, Aesculapius moved the cursor around, accessing a few files. "The only explanation I can give you off the top of my head is that your body adapted and developed around it and synchronized its energy pattern to your bio-signature."

X gave him a sceptical look. "Woudn't I have felt that?"

"Hey," he chided, not even bothering to glance his way, "I'm a goddamn genius, hero boy, not a researcher." Aesculapius' face turned sour when he didn't find what he wanted and shut down the holo-console. "Although, that doesn't mean I can't pick up the role as one. I want to scan you for anything that's changed since the last one you took back in October. That alright with you?"

"When can you pencil me in?"

"Ummmmmmm..." Aesculapius looked up at the ceiling, mentally running down his list of appointments. "Free tomorrow night?"

The azure Hunter smirked and stood up. "Not the way I'd imagine a 'first date' would go."

Aesclad snorted, amused. It was nice to joke around a bit, after four straight days of being the Wicked Warlock of the East. "Just bring your birthday suit and plan on lying supine for an hour. My iniquitous touch will have you begging for more."

Lost in the dark, weight atop his chest. Heavy, hot, damp and delicious in all ways. A pressure along his scalp, forcing him to expose a bare plane of neck that savage lips and teeth attacked, famished from lack of touch. Strong fingers clawing at the predator's spine, kept from farther involvement by the hand thread through his hair. It burned something wonderful; he hated being idle.

"Rei...."

X chuckled quietly if not a bit dishearted, but remained motionless. Then softly, he murmured, "I'm glad you aren't a Maverick, Aesclad."

Genuine surprise crossed his features; Aesclad felt terms to inquire further. "And why's that, X-san?"

"Because," he said simply as he turned the knob on the door, "if you were a Maverick, we'd have something to fear." And he was gone.

Aesculapius frowned as the door closed and the medic shook his head mournfully. "It's only a matter of time, Yakasa," he whispered. "Only a matter of time."

"Please, Lee-chan," said Alia, looking mildly perturbed. "I don't like it. To date, everything has gone smoother than silk. In accordance with Murphy's Law, impending disaster is hardly a stone's throw away."

The voice filtering from the speaker didn't sound too anxious, if its chuckling was any hint. "I find it hard to believe there haven't been at least a few little bumps in the Great Circle of Misery."

"That's what the iron was made for," she countered dryly.

"Well, /someone's/ a little agitated. Getting nervous?"

"...I'm a bit skeptical," she admitted. "It's like some big, messed up déja vu thing going on and you know you've never run through it before."

"Ai-chan, there's nothing to be doubtful about. He said it himself, life will be as it is until the door closes. We have a few days."

Alia sighed, still not soothed. "And what if I never see you again?"

"Well, what if /I/ never saw /you/ again? It's a two-way road and you have some risky business on your hands."

"But I want to be back home!" she cried out, clutching the arms of her chair frantically. "With you and the boys."

The voice sighed sympathetically. "Don't worry, Ai-chan. I have faith in God that he will make everything turn out right. You've trust him before, with your very life. Don't start doubting everything now."

".....Alright, Lee-chan. Alright. I'll believe. For you."

The sounds of sprinkling water hitting the floor and flesh, feet slapping against the wet tiles, and the random, echoed chatter reverberating around the sickeningly pale-green walls hardly broke Zero's mixed concentration on the horrid mass in his lap.

His hair-- his gorgeous hair!-- was soaked to the roots in water...and still, the black muck remained. It had crusted now, a sad thing indeed. The hardened fluid had flaked off both of his face and armor with minimal effort, but was bound tightly to each strand of hair like cement. It was nearly enough to make a grown man cry. Yes, even Zero.

Stupid, stupid--! Dumb, stupid, moronic...animal! I HATE THEM.

His mind raged, but a tiny, tiny part was grateful that he didn't get wrinkly; he had been sitting under the showerhead since leaving Signas' office two hours ago, with only a small waist-towel and a stool to keep him company. Because anyone in their right mind knew not to approach a stewing monster. He poked the caked gunk numbly.

Not even soggy.

Every idea to get the stuff off was met with one image: a lawnmower eating his precious golden locks and him screaming in pain as his Achilles' Heel was tortured. Sandblaster, mallet, jackhammer, chisel, beam sabre, powerpulse cannon. It was all wrong.

Zero spat out a few choice curses that caught the attention of a pair of passing humans, who each went wide-eyed and literally pressed against the wall to keep their distance. A cursing Zero is not a happy Zero.

And an unhappy Zero meant something was going to go 'BOOM'. Very, very soon.

Zero's expression became grave. He had already tried to break it off with his hands starting at the tip, but was met with the disasterous outcome his thoughts were now plagued with: a chuck of gold broke of with it, leaving an odd gap in the tail. Whatever the hell kind of nano-fluid that coursed through those lizards' veins wasn't a normal brand, because this -wasn't- normal.

....A suspicious eyebrow rose.

He was off of his stool in a heartbeat, making his way out of the showers and through the locker room; people lunged out of his way when he stormed by and cringed with the force of the door slamming open, along with the cold air rushing in.

There were two things people noticed as Zero rushed by them, however. One was the dark clump that travelled up to his shoulder like a mountain range on a map. From the tip to almost his neck, it stood out like a stain on white and was something to gawk at. The other thing...

He was still in his little waist-towel and soaking wet. Go figure.

Signas may have been fresh to the responsibilities of a general, but that didn't mean he wasn't ignorant to protocal. So, when X stepped into his office, Signas pointedly grumbled, "Durges says that you checked in thirty-one minutes ago."

"Well, yeah," said X, clearing his throat. "I needed to speak to Aesculapius right away."

Signas gazed critically at him. "And Reitori reported in two-point-four hours ago, with news that you and Zero had defeated those monsters, and /he/ checked in when she did. Anything I should know, Commander?"

"Ahh.." X blinked momentarily, then shook his head. "No sir. I...I just wanted to clear my head before coming back. It felt important that I did so."

Signas nodded. "Alright." He paused before continuing. "Reitori's already given me her verbal. I want your briefing /and/ opinion, considering I'll probably get a more appropriate one out of you than I would from Zero." A quirked smile touched his lips. "Begin."

"Sir. We encountered a number of drones out in section 5-D. Shock troops." And he continued for several minutes, conveniently omitting a few more...personal details that Signas did -not- need to be informed about. The general wasn't the wiser.

"You didn't happen to bring back a body, did you?"

X face-faulted. "A....a body, sir?"

An eyebrow twitched. "The body of one of the retired machines."

Sweatdrop. "...No. No, sir. The thought should have crossed my mind, but I was plagued with...other....thoughts." Lame. Real lame. Can't say I'm lying, though.

Signas frowned with skepticism. "It's a good thing that Shao thought to do so, then."

More sweatdrops. "I'm sorry, sir."

"You don't have to apologize," said Signas. "This is the first time you've ever been absent-minded, to my knowledge, so I will dismiss it. But X." The azure Hunter steeled himself. "In the future, I would rather you focus more on the battle and the clean-up procedures instead of going off into another train of thought. You can dwell on whatever's bothering you afterwards."

Easier said than done, he mused dryly. "Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

In the past...

Forte growled to himself, a throaty rumbling barely loud enough to carry five feet down the stone-laced hallway. As usual, the few metools and Masters in the way moved hastily aside to let the glowering robot have the right-of-way. But he barely noticed them.

How dare that son of a bitch. Twenty years of stealing others' works, crap jobs, and upgrading someone else's trash.... He's got the fucking audacity to build his fucking own!

He was livid. However, his reason wasn't as shallow as it sounded in his head. It was Forte's own hands that brought Wily the plans he was currently using, acquired in the first week of his and Rock's initial acquaintance. He liked cursing that timeframe, as it soon evolved into the bane of his existence: Rock -looking- at him with pity and sadness whenever Forte tried to kill him, like it wasn't Forte's fault that he was bad.

He didn't like it; chills and confusion always came with those looks on his part, because he wanted to bash Rock's head against something solid, to get him to stop. Because it bothered him, that the twerp cared. That he could win when Forte was unsettled. And his unsettlement grew more and more, even during the rare chances he -was- in Rock's company, when the older droid wasn't aware of it.

Rock bothered him. With every smile, every pout, frown, laugh grin tear scream of rage giggle. It all bothered him. But he didn't like thinking about it. Instead, Forte always came back to his own life, and how he was being challenged for his position as the strongest. King was an insult enough, but if Wily was planning on actually -activating- his monstrosity, it would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

He would not tolerate the old man's insolence much longer. And so, his mind seethed. He won't live to get it online. The damn bastard's pushing seventy-seven; he'll die of a stroke. And when that happens, I'll personally see to that fucking /girlie/ bot's permanent disposal.

Without warning, the entire sector's alarms went off, indicating a sudden quaking from inside its boundaries. Forte removed his fist from the wall. He's dares try to usurp me again! With of all things, that woman of a machine! And he couldn't be more original with his design either, the senile bastard. What is /with/ him and /BLONDES/?! I'm blonde, it's blonde, and half the humanoid machines are blonde! Blonde blonde blonde blonde! I'll rip its hair out and shove it up its ass, that's what I'm gonna do when Wily's back is turned.

He must be fucked up in Viagra or Cialis or something. Poppin' those human boner pills or some shit. It's the only reason he's making it look like a woman. Sick freak. He snorted in disgust. A woman. ...Heh. I bet that machine is gonna cry like a baby if something happens to its precious hair.

In the present...

Zero took a step back, sheer horror written over his face. "Wha-what??"

Aesculapius nodded, his expression bleak. "You heard me, Zero. It's got to come off."

Zero choked back a squeak, covering his mouth, as Aesclad continued. "Even Douglas and Burcan agree with me. They need to analyze it, and they can't do that if it's still attached to your head. And you can't operate on synthetic fiber. You've got just one option left...and it's already not a pretty one from where I'm standing."

"....!!" He was ready to break down and cry. There were two of his possessions he treasured, that were always there, never changing, what he would sacrifice for -nothing-. One was his beam sabre, the same one he's had since the beginning; it spoke volumes of who he was and sometimes, the one witness to horrible crimes committed against humanity.

The other....

Zero clung to it childishly. "You can't CUT MY HAIR!"

Aesculapius exhaled in annoyance, steeling his eyes. "/Commander/!" Zero stiffened. "You are behaving irrationally and foolishly! As head medical officer of /this/ facility, my orders override all who associate under it, with the exception of the Septenary, Committee of Seven. And I'm ordering you to sit down on this table, stay still, and let me take some shears to your head!"

From Aesculapius' view, it looked like Zero would comply; after all, he -was- a soldier. But he looked closer...and wanted to groan.

Zero's lip was trembling slightly.

It's about time you grew up, 'Commander'. How this man is one of the forces behind Sigma's defeats is beyond me. He mentally smirked. Ah well. Time for the coup de grace, I guess. Aesclad hooded his eyes and idly clucked his tongue, blindly opening a drawer to his right.

And wouldn't you know it, at the sight of the tiny pair of scissors, the mightiest of all Hunters, one half of the backbone to the entire Japanese regiment, collapsed in a dead faint onto the doctor's office floor.

Aesculapius' eyebrows shot upwards, intrigued. He also managed to stifle a laugh. "Alright, enough fun and games." He stepped over the towel-clad body-- papers fallen from previous appointments clung to Zero's damp skin, he observed-- and pried open his door just enough to stick his head out. "Unit 12! Call Megaman X down here for me, will ya?"

† ‡§‡ † ‡§‡ †

If you are not confused, then there's something wrong with you. If you are, this is a good sign.

Fun Facts!:
I consider Hunters and Mavericks to be sports teams. Meaning, they're moved and shifted around from country to country, to wherever and for whomever needs them, like trades, transfers, or something as simple as borrowing them. This is why not all names are Japanese in origins (Aesclad, Durges, Dnuthre); it's because they're from some other poor country ransacked with vile villains!