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spartanguard · 5 years ago

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(love will see us through these) Dark Days [CSRT; 6/7]

Summary: A century ago, the United Realms of Pomem had been a land of peace, prosperity, and magic. Until war tore the land apart, leaving behind cruel leaders and even crueler laws regarding the use of magic. And each year, the youth of each realm are subjected to a fight to the death, both for entertainment and to weed out anyone capable of wielding magic. In the 99th Magic Games, past victors Emma Nolan and Killian Jones find themselves serving as mentors, while Alice Gothel and Robyn West end up representing their realm. Everyone has secrets; everyone has something to lose. Who will win? Who will die? Just don’t forget: all magic comes with a price.

A/N: We survived the games! and there’s only one chapter left after this—ahh! Thanks as always to @captainswanbigbang for hosting this event and the best beta ever @optomisticgirl. Chapter title comes from “Kingdom Come” by The Civil Wars.

Important note: So, this is the chapter where things happen (in the past) with Killian and Eloise. While it's completely consensual, it's still not the greatest of situations (they're both victims, in this scenario). So if you don't want to read that, then I advise you to skip over the flashback at the end.

part 6: Don't you fret my dear; it'll all be over soon / I'll be waiting here for you

Alice felt like she was going to be sick. But at the same time, she didn’t feel much—like all her senses were muted somehow; like she was covered in a see-through blanket. Absentmindedly, she scratched, yet again, at the new bracelet on her arm.

“Stop it,” her mother scolded, swatting her hand away. “You’ll get used to it,” she added, a bit softer.

Alice glanced over at her mum, who was now toying with her own cuff. From the outside, it was beautiful: made of beads woven together in shades of orange that matched Eloise’s hair and, at least at the moment, matched the floral pattern that covered her flowy gown. When Alice was little, she would stare at it in awe, thinking it was merely a beautiful accessory. Now, she knew better.

And god, she understood her mother that much more. Alice’s was equally gorgeous—a sea of blues that mimicked the color of her (and her papa’s) eyes, and nearly blended into the stunning turquoise ball gown she was wearing. She now knew that those beads were made of silicon, and the wires and metal holding it together were all part of the circuitry used to block the release of magic. But it felt like her body was rejecting it, and rightly so; it was literally suppressing a part of her that had been there her whole life. So while her mother’s attention was diverted, she snuck another scratch in.

She nearly jumped when a hand closed over hers. “Easy there,” Robyn whispered, giving her a soft smile. “I’ve got ya.” She squeezed her hand over Alice’s, and even though it didn’t do much to relieve the itch that felt like it was burrowing into her soul, it was soothing nonetheless.

“Thanks,” she said, returning the tiny grin. Even though the games had ended a few days ago, it felt like they’d barely spent any time together. They’d curled together on the hovercraft, but the trip from the Arena back to Olympus was depressingly short, and they’d been split apart almost immediately and taken to recover separately.

She’d no sooner been hurried into a hospital room than a crude cuff had been slapped on her wrist, immediately stifling her magic. Cruelly, her mother had been the one to fit her with the current, permanent model a day later, while she was still hooked up to all sorts of IV drips that were supposed to heal all her injuries and make up for malnourishment.

Eloise hadn’t said a word when she put it on her, and didn’t linger to talk with her about it. No words were really needed, but Alice couldn’t shake the feeling that her mother had put a pillow over her face at the same time.

(Her papa visited too, later that night when no one else was around; he’d held her as she cried into his shoulder, just like when she was a little girl and her first rabbit died. But this was so much worse than a pet, and she’d been the one to do the killing here and...god, she still couldn’t think about it much.)

That feeling of muted senses hadn’t yet abated, or even thinned, so she’d taken to studying things even harder, focusing on every detail; right now, she was staring at Robyn’s dress, noting the bit of tulle poking out from under the bold red taffeta at the hem, the tiny red gemstones that dotted the full skirt, and the almost fire-like pattern they made over the strapless bodice. Alice’s dress was made in the same pattern, but the colors were a complete contrast. She had to give the dressmakers credit for that bit of coordination. She didn’t know how many times she’d traced over the seams and stones of hers, just trying to make sure she could still feel; amazingly, she hadn’t messed anything up yet.

“Are you girls ready?” Eloise asked, standing by the door of the small room they stood in. They could hear a bit of the hubbub coming from the other side—from the Victor’s Gala. (Because it wasn’t enough that they had been interviewed again on live television after winning; no, they had to be paraded around for the sponsors and other past victors, too. At least the interviews hadn’t had an audience this time.)

Alice wasn’t sure she was ready to talk again, having only barely made it through the interview without stumbling over her sentences. Robyn, blessedly, picked up on that. “Yeah, we are,” she answered for both of them.

“Then go ahead. You’re on.”

Eloise opened the door just in time for them to hear Sidney Glass announce their names from the room beyond. Once again, the large room on the first floor of Tribute Castle had been transformed, now into a glittering ballroom.

Robyn squeezed her hand and led them out, which was good, because she probably would have ran the other direction without her there. Hopefully no one noticed her delayed reaction, but she quickly plastered on her show grin and waved as Sidney guided them to the dance floor.

It was an antiquated tradition that the Victor opened the gala with a first dance, usually with the Gamemaker, but since there were two winners, the mortification was theirs to share alone.

“Let the dance begin!” he announced, and an orchestra started to play somewhere. For a moment, she and Robyn just stared at each other, giggling. But the rhythm was familiar, thankfully, so she guided Robyn’s free hand to her shoulder, placed hers on Robyn’s waist, and whispered “Follow me.”

There were only a couple missteps as they glided around the floor; Robyn was a quick study, and the more they moved, the more the nervous butterflies became a different kind of flutter in her stomach.

Robyn must have picked up on it, because she slid her hand from Alice’s shoulder to her waist and wrapped it around her back, tugging her closer. “Doing okay?” she whispered in her ear.”

“Yeah,” she murmured back. “It’s just awkward, is all—everyone watching us.”

“I know; it feels like a wedding,” she said, giggling a bit.

Alice didn’t entirely hate that idea, if she was being honest, and blushed a bit at the idea; her mum would scold her for being too young or something but she was still Killian Jones’s daughter, too; she’d inherited his entire sappy side.

Robyn was blushing a bit, too; it matched the red jewels that dotted her skin. “Just how did you learn to dance like this?” she asked, seeming to want to change the subject.

“My papa taught me,” she replied. Countless hours they had spent dancing in her bedroom at his house; sometimes it was silly, sometimes serious, and it was one of her fondest memories from growing up.

“Think he’ll teach me?”

“Oh, definitely!” Hopefully, she’d be able to properly introduce them to each other at some point here—not just the hurried thing that had happened in their quarters…gosh, was that really only two weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed in between.

Blessedly, the music came to an end and the audience applauded. They both sighed in relief, but then—were they supposed to bow or something? They glanced around for a bit, smiling awkwardly, until Eloise ushered them off the floor.

“God, that was embarrassing,” Robyn blurted once they were off to the side. Alice was thinking the same, but knew better than to complain like that around her mum.

Eloise, though, didn’t shoot daggers as expected; weirdly, she smirked. “Be glad it wasn’t the Gamemaker. I had to dance with one who was close to retirement and could barely stand upright anymore. He may have worn a diaper.”

Both girls cringed.

“Anyways, now that that’s over, I want to introduce you to some people. Come on.”

‘Some people’ apparently meant half the past victors present. Not all of them were mentors; some just came for the party, and likely didn’t remember much of the introduction. Nearly all were recognizable, though, given that she’d grown up seeing their faces on the television. Some were especially so, like Regina Mills from Phrygia—famous for literally tearing out the hearts of her opponents (and who now wore a purple beaded cuff, the style of which was becoming more and more familiar)—and Emma Nolan from Misthaven, who had probably given Alice the idea of using the trees to her advantage; that was part of how she’d won.

But it didn’t escape Alice’s notice how Emma’s eyes kept flicking to her cuff, with some odd mix of pity and concern; she didn’t want either of those, thanks, but it did make her wonder if those two things were fated to follow her forever now.

When they finally made the rounds toward the Victors from Atlantica, Alice felt like she could almost relax; her papa was looking exceedingly dapper in an all-black suit with a flattering cut, shirt open like he liked, in stark contrast to Aunt Ariel’s frilly pink gown. But his rigid posture as they approached sent a clear message: they couldn’t act familiar here; not yet. So she drew herself up a little bit more as Eloise made the proper, if entirely unnecessary, introductions.

They exchanged the same pleasantries everyone else had, albeit slightly strained; it was taking every nerve in Alice’s body not to drag them both into giant hugs and shove Robyn at them. That’d have to wait.

“I wonder,” her papa started after conversation had lulled, “You appear to be a fantastic dancer, Miss Gothel. Might I seek your hand for a turn about the floor?” He extended his hand to complete the offer.

She glanced at her mother for approval; she had no idea how this might look, if it was normal or not. It probably wasn’t, but nothing about her and Robyn was anyway, so when Eloise nodded her assent, she probably grabbed Killian’s hand a bit too roughly. He just chuckled, though, and led her to the floor.

As desperate as she was to get wrapped up in her father’s embrace, he kept a polite distance, even if the steps were ones they’d done a thousand times. “I owe you a better dance when we’re home,” he murmured. “Without so many eyes on us.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she answered. But now that she’d won—now that the danger of Olympus making her a target was over—she’d been wondering… “What if...what if we did tell people? Like, everyone?”

Her papa gave her a sad smile. “I wish we could, Starfish—so much. But if it came out that there’d been an inter-realm dalliance like this...I don’t know what it would do. And your mother has already dealt with her fair share of trouble.” He didn’t say ‘over you,’ but it wasn’t needed; Alice knew that much of her mum’s family died right around the time she was born and no one suspected it was a coincidence.

“I just hate this,” she complained. “I thought winning made life less complicated.”

He chuckled a bit, in the way that she’d figured out meant he was amused by her innocence; normally, she enjoyed making him laugh, but it rang hollow right now. “Darling, my greatest wish for you was that you never had to face this. But know that I’ll always be there for you—that hasn’t changed.”

She sighed. “I know. I love you, papa.”

He gave a half-smile that somehow always meant more than a full one with him. “I love you too, Starfish.”

The song ended much too soon and it would probably draw the wrong kind of attention if they lingered, so he gentlemanly escorted her back to where her mother and Robyn had continued to talk with Ariel—who surreptitiously gave Alice a thumbs up of approval that made her smirk.

“Have you guys seen the buffet yet?” she asked, then acted shocked when they hadn’t. Really, she just knew that Alice was always hungry and likely assumed she was starved right now—and she was right. “Seriously, Eloise; feed these girls!” she gushed, winking; Alice was going to have to thank her for the reprieve later.

They said their goodbyes—lingering a bit in her polite handshake with Papa—and finally got to enjoy the delicacies of Olympus.

Her papa was right: life was going to be more complicated from here on out. But between him, Robyn, her mother, and the other people around her, Alice knew she’d acclimate eventually.

Also—she discovered the best marmalade she’d ever had on the buffet. That might make it all worth it.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Killian didn’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. The Gala was usually his favorite part of the Games—if he had to have one—but when all he wanted to do was be with his daughter, far from here, having her here but being required to keep his distance was agony.

Maybe if Milah was still here, it wouldn’t be so bad, but she wasn’t, was she?

At least the bar was, so after the Sherwood group departed, he excused himself from Ariel’s side to get a drink.

While he was ordering, Jefferson arrived next to him. “That was quite a show at the end, there, Hatter,” Killian said. “Pulled right on my heartstrings.”

“Well, you know, anything for a great story,” the gamemaker replied. “I don’t know if everyone is pleased with the outcome, but it will definitely be remembered.”

“Who doesn’t love a happy ending? I certainly did.”

“Well, of course you would.”

Killian and Jefferson exchanged a long look at his comment. Did he know? Despite the comment, his expression was unreadable; it was probably best if Killian didn’t linger on it, then.

“Now comes the hard part: topping yourself next year,” he plowed on with a plastered-on smile. “Care to share your secrets?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jefferson laughed, albeit nervously. “But let me remind you that it is a Quarter Quell, and it will be the most memorable yet.”

Killian swallowed, thinking of the last Quell and who was in it, before smirking back. “Can’t wait.” Jefferson smiled in reply, but it almost seemed pained; it certainly wasn’t genuine, which was unusual to see in someone from Olympus—the games were typically a source of sadistic joy. “What, not looking forward to it? You’ve got the most coveted job in all the realms.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.” Astonishing; Killian never considered a gamemaker might have a conscience. Jefferson continued, “With any luck, I won’t have to.”

“Retiring already?” He was hardly older than Killian—much too young to call it quits, especially considering his, ah, wizened predecessor.

“Something like that. I won’t go down without a fight, though.”

The gamemaker then excused himself, leaving Killian slightly confused; something was going on. But he didn’t feel like thinking about it tonight, so instead he started on his drink and began searching for some company again.

He found Ariel in the crowd, talking with Emma and Graham on the other side of the room and felt his expression darken, brows furrowing. Emma’s betrayal still stung, though the intensity had dulled, especially in comparison to other blows he’d been dealt.

She hadn’t been wrong—he probably would have done something similar, had he been allied with any other team. But he felt too much of a connection with her—and, frankly, respected Graham too much—to have done so this year.

He was just angry and shocked at the initial betrayal, but now that Alice was (relatively) safe and sound, he was a bit calmer about the whole thing. It was still a shit scenario, but not as terrible as he’d originally made it out to be.

And Emma’s friendship—or whatever it was they had—was not something he wanted to lose. Perhaps it was best they found a way to bury the hatchet, even if that was a terrible idiom to use.

He shotgunned the rest of his drink, leaving the glass on a random table and letting the liquid confidence give strength to his cocky front.

“Not trying to steal my partner, I hope?” Killian said as he strolled up, grinning at Graham, before turning his attention to Emma. “Though I’d be open to a trade if you are,” he added, winking.

Emma rolled her eyes and gripped Graham’s arm tighter. If she was trying to avoid him, she’d have to try harder.

“They were just telling me about their son, Henry,” Ariel said with a sweet smile. “He sounds so sweet. Do you have any pictures of him?”

“Yes!” Emma said, reaching for her clutch, and pulling from it a photo of a boy with brown eyes and a mess of dark hair. Killian could see Emma in the boy’s features, but none of Graham. As if he needed any more confirmation there.

“He’s so handsome!” Ariel gushed. “How old is he?”

“Um, eleven,” Emma replied, somewhat nervously, the smile running away from her face. Eleven. The boy could be reaped next year. Killian said a silent prayer, hoping that wasn’t the plan for next year that Jefferson was talking about. But wouldn’t that be a story: the grandson and son of victors finding himself in the games? No wonder Emma had kept her distance from Olympus.

Sensing a need to lighten the mood, Killian addressed Graham. “You didn’t answer my question: would you like to trade partners? It only has to be for the evening.” Emma just averted her eyes.

“Sure, why not?” Graham answered, not giving Emma a chance to say otherwise. “Shall we?” He offered Ariel his arm and they went off to talk to Archie, an older victor from Arendelle.

Killian faced Emma. Despite his usual swagger, he found himself somewhat nervous. Not quite knowing what else to do, and not wanting to get into what was likely to be a heated conversation out in the open, he asked, “Care to dance?”

“Dance? Really?” She finally made eye contact with him, an amused look of disbelief spread across her features. “Didn’t you already do that tonight?”

“There’s no such thing as dancing too much,” he tossed back; he wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that she’d noticed his waltz with Alice.

Emma snickered. “Okay, but I need another drink first.”

“I won’t argue that. Lead the way.”

At the bar, they ordered two shots of rum. “To the end of the games,” he offered as a toast.

“If only that were true,” Emma replied with a sad smile as she clinked her glass with his and downed the shot. “I sometimes feel as though I haven’t stopped playing.”

That seemed to be the theme of the night. “They certainly have a way of following us, don’t they?”

He watched Emma’s face change as her thoughts drifted elsewhere, and his own would have done the same had he not been momentarily mesmerized by her beauty. Something about the light in the ballroom, paired with that familiar look in her eyes (not to mention the figure she cut in her red cocktail dress) caught him completely off guard. Goodness, it was like he was a teenage boy again.

He took a breath (apparently, he’d forgotten to) and reached out with his hand for Emma’s, squeezing gently in case she tried to pull back (she did), and smiled. “Come on, you promised me a dance.”

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Killian gently dragged Emma to the floor, if it was possible to be gently dragged. A few couples were out there—older victors who were mainly in town because it was something to do, bored with the monotony of life in their respective Victor’s Villages. Emma could hardly blame them; the only reason she hadn’t been bored stiff by now was that she was too preoccupied with Henry, as her parents were earlier with her.

Few victors had children, though. Why would you want to risk your child going through that torture? Henry was turning twelve in a few months; the next several years would be torture at Reaping time, and his genealogy wasn’t as lucky as Olympus would think.

Looking at Killian, she was stunned he’d made it through without losing his sanity completely. At least he had a happy ending, even if few people knew it.

Part of her wanted to ask him about—well, about all of it: how Alice came into being, how they managed to hide it while clearly having a relationship (if they’d even really had one; it was hard to tell based on their stilted interactions now), how he hadn’t lost his mind during every prior reaping—but now wasn’t the time.

It was probably a good time to apologize, though. Even if, knowing him, it would be a prime opportunity to knock down all her defenses, as he tended to do. However, the rum had calmed her flight instinct, so for now, she was just going to dance.

Out on the floor, Killian placed his left arm around Emma’s waist—she could feel the cool of his hook at the small of her back—and lifted her right hand in his. He began to move in time to the music being played by a small ensemble at one end of the floor. “So you actually know how to do...whatever this is?” Emma asked incredulously.

“It’s called a waltz,” he replied confidently. “There’s only one rule,” he said, leaning in with an almost whisper, “pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but those stupid butterflies deep down took flight again. Really? She hadn’t felt like that since she was a kid.

“Follow along, love, and you’ll be fine.”

It took some time, and she did stumble once (Killian caught her in his sure arms, responding cheekily “It’s about bloody time,” which made her groan) but she soon found herself keeping pace with Killian.

Falling into a steady pattern, Killian began making small talk. “You know, most men take your silence as off-putting,” he said, then leaned in. “But I love a challenge.” She had to laugh, both at how sure of himself he was, and at what he was trying to do.

“I think you know by now that doesn’t work on me.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

Either he’d had enough rum that he didn’t care, or he’d already moved past the events of the past week. So it was probably time for her to do the same. “Killian, I’m sorry for how things ended. It wasn’t—”

“It’s done,” he cut her off. “No sense dwelling on it.”

“I know, but I still wanted to apologize, and thank you for all your help.” She hoped her smile sold it (to both him and her).

“It was my pleasure, lass. This was definitely one of the more memorable games in my career, thanks in part to you.”

She arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “I think I had less to do with it than you’re giving me credit for.”

He swallowed. “Aye, that’s fair,” he confirmed, and she didn’t miss his glance across the ballroom toward Alice. “But you definitely added some excitement, in multiple ways.”

Were it not for the rum in her veins, she probably would have had some sort of nervous reaction that would have burst a few lightbulbs; she still couldn’t believe she’d lost it around him—twice—and here of all places. Out of habit, she took a few deep breaths, but there was incredibly nothing to calm. To her surprise, though, Killian ran the brace of his hook up and down her back a couple times in a comforting gesture.

“Don’t worry, love—if I can trust you, you can trust me.” The gentle look in his eyes told her that was true; hell, she already knew it, but in general, it was so much easier to not believe it. (Because then it didn’t hurt as much when it proved to be a lie.)

Killian, though...she wondered if she might be okay.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” And then he spun her out, startling her into giggles, before pulling her back in. He laughed as she gripped his biceps to regain her balance. “I can see I’m finally winning you over, Nolan,” he said with a smirk.

“You wish,” she teased back, but gods—he wasn’t far. She really hoped that no one noticed how close they were, with her supposed husband still in the room. The Olympus gossip rags could be vicious, even if they were barely seen outside the realm.

He seemed to realize the same thing and sobered a bit, but she could still see the playful twinkle in those baby blues. “It’s a shame you’re taken,” he mused, albeit sarcastically. “We’d make such a gorgeous couple.”

“Do I need to remind you that the tricks you used on the rich old ladies don’t work on me? I know your game now.”

“Perhaps that’s true, but I do have a reputation to uphold.” His cocky demeanor slipped a bit there—as if he didn’t even believe himself, or didn’t care to.

“Was that what Eloise was?” she asked quietly.

“No,” he answered, almost whispering. “That was...a lone encounter.”

“It only takes once,” she replied, knowingly. “So you didn’t love her?”

“Not her.”

They were still dancing, though the complicated steps had eased to a shuffle. She glanced up and looked long and hard at his face, and the furrowed expression it was wearing—a familiar look of pain on his face she’d seen in the mirror far too many times. “What was her name?”

He hesitated a moment, glancing down, before softly replying, “Milah.” Emma vaguely remembered her; a beautiful victor from Atlantica, who had died suddenly a while ago—not long after Killian’s win, if memory served right. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“And you?” he asked.

Should have known Killian would be reading her, too. “Neal,” Emma said, the name foreign on her lips. As much as he occupied her thoughts, she hadn’t said his name aloud in years. “He died in the games.”

“Is he Henry’s father?”

Emma considered a non-answer, but frankly, they were past that at this point. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Mercifully, the music ended after a few moments, and Emma broke apart from Killian, as if the weight of their conversation was driving a wedge between them. “I-I should go back to Graham.” She stared at his chest, still afraid to look up; at least she could blame it on his always-exposed chest hair.

“Allow me to escort you,” Killian said, offering his left arm and a smile that did little to hide how he was equally affected. Emma took a deep breath, took his arm, and smiled, putting back up the emotional walls she could so easily hide behind. Even though Graham was her best friend, she’d barely let him get through them; so how had Killian broken through so quickly, and so repeatedly?

Ariel and Graham were still chatting with Archie when Emma and Killian found them. “Greetings, Arch!” Killian nearly shouted as they approached, reaching out to shake Archie’s hand.

The man from Arendelle gingerly took it and lightly shook. “Hello, Killian, Emma,” nodding at each in turn. It was hard to imagine this timid man ever winning the games, but he had somehow pulled it off—being from Arendelle, he would have been exposed to any number of technologies that proved useful in Neverland. He did his best to pass on his knowledge to the tributes he mentored, but had only had limited success; mainly with Belle French, who won a handful of years ago and was likely even more technologically savvy than Archie. She had somehow managed to electrocute a number of tributes during her games, due to some handy wire and a well-timed thunderstorm.

They'd never actually talked—there hadn’t been occasion to—but Emma had always admired Belle from afar. In addition to being highly intelligent, she also seemed incredibly sweet. “Where is Belle? I had hoped to see her tonight,” Emma asked.

“Oh, she c-couldn’t make it,” Archie answered, nervous even for him. “President Gold invited her to join him tonight, to watch the Victors’ interview.”

Emma was still on Killian’s arm, and felt his whole body go rigid at the mention of the president. His face must have darkened, too, because Ariel asked, “Killian? Are you alright?” He seemed lost in thought for a moment, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Of course, love; I’m fine. Just worn down from the week. But I promised this fine lady that I would escort her back to her beau.”

Emma knew she should unwrap herself from Killian’s arm, but given what had just passed between them, she was more than a little concerned. He was nearly as agitated as he’d been during the Games.

“Actually,” she said, faking a yawn, “I think I might turn in, but you can stay down here if you want,” she told Graham. He was clearly enjoying the company—and she couldn’t shake the desire to soothe Killian, or at least get him out of the public eye.

“You sure?” Graham asked—but she could read his second meaning: was she sure about trying to help Killian?

“Yeah,” she said confidently, then turned to the man on her arm. “Weren’t you heading back, too?”

He blinked at her dramatically, but then figured out what she was suggesting. “Aye; I still need to pack, I’m afraid. I promise to see your lady back safely,” he assured Graham.

“You better,” Graham threw back, smiling encouragingly. She knew what that look meant—it was the kind he always gave her when he wanted her to try something new. But she was going to ignore that.

They bid Archie farewell, who promptly and absentmindedly wandered off. Ariel pulled Emma into an embrace that Emma didn’t hesitate to return—regardless of whatever was going on between her and Killian, Emma had definitely found a new friend in Ariel. “Take care, Emma! I’ll miss you!” the other woman squealed.

“I’ll miss you, too!” She wasn’t used to such outpouring of emotion, but there didn’t seem to be any other option when it came to Ariel; it was a stark contrast to the polite but friendly handshake exchanged between Killian and Graham.

She told Graham she’d see him later, trying to be a bit less casual than she usually was, and led the way as she and Killian left the room. He relaxed immediately in the hallway, but she’d learned her lesson when it came to discussing major revelations there, and continued to guide him to the elevator.

It was already there, so they didn’t have to wait to step on board. As soon as the door closed, she turned to face him, noting the brooding grimace on his face. “What happened?”

He clenched his jaw. “Now, or then?”

“Either.”

“Milah...also spent a lot of time with Gold,” he slowly explained. “She was his favorite.”

“Oh,” she breathed. The president was not known for playing well with others...or for sharing his toys. “Is that how she…?”

“Yeah.”

It was Emma's turn to say “I’m sorry.”

Killian nodded, all the while staring at the floor. “I’d hate to see another woman face that fate.”

“I get it.”

The elevator dinged, indicating they’d arrived on her floor. Wordlessly, they exited, and found their way to the Misthaven quarter’s entrance.

“Thank you for getting me out of there,” Killian said.

“You can only put on a brave face for so long,” Emma shrugged. She’d definitely been in that position. “And you’ve had to do that enough lately.”

He scoffed. “Yeah.”

A slightly awkward silence settled over them then. “Well, I should—” she started, gesturing at the door.

“Yes, yeah, you should—early train,” Killian stammered back, finally looking her in the eyes. He offered his right hand to her, continuing, “I...I enjoyed working with you this week. Until next year?”

She glanced at his hand, but it seemed so informal. And there was just enough rum still left in her veins, and just enough of her emotional energy had been spent tonight that she didn’t have any more left to spend thinking about things like propriety or denial.

She stepped forward, into his space, and grabbed the lapels on his jacket. Then she pressed herself forward and found his lips with hers.

He stilled for a moment, but then his hand found its way to her waist and he leaned into it, firm and insistent but gentle and soft. He tilted his head to deepen it, and for a few brief, shared moments, they were the only people in Pomem. Maybe it was just because it had been so long, but she couldn’t remember being kissed like this—reverently and carefully.

The kiss broke apart naturally, but they stayed close, foreheads touching. “That was…” he breathed, his voice wrecked.

“A one-time thing,” she answered, regrettably knowing that it would have to be.

He nodded against her, then stepped back and took a deep breath, seeming to regain his composure. “Until next year, then. Safe travels, Emma.”

“You too, Killian,” she said with a soft smile that he thankfully returned.

As much as she wanted to watch him walk away, she instead slipped inside their quarters, swiftly shutting the door behind her. But she leaned back against it, breathing heavily.

Had she really just done that? Had she just actually kissed Killian Jones? A man she’d see, at best, once a year?

Yeah, he understood her more than anyone she’d ever known, and yeah, he was charming and smart and strong. And he’d somehow gotten under her skin and slipped behind all her walls.

Well, like she said—one-time thing. She was just getting him out of her system. She’d have the year ahead to cool off, and then they could continue on as friends. Right?

Right.

She sighed, scrubbed a hand down her face, and glanced around at the too-empty suite.

God, she hated the games.

It was definitely time to go home.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Seventeen years ago

The pain medications in Olympus were something else. Killian felt mostly clear-headed and in control, with just the slightest unnatural euphoria. But he’d made it through the post-Games interview just fine, he thought, so perhaps they weren’t overly strong.

Until he found himself vomiting in a broom closet outside the Victory celebration. His mental state was back on the ground—but the pain at the end of his arm had returned full-force, fire burning in a hand that wasn’t there. (And, irrationally, he was worried about staining the expensive suit he wore.)

“The drugs wore off?” a female voice asked from outside the threshold.

“Aye,” he panted. “Can you get my mentor?”

He heard the woman’s footsteps as she walked away, then a pair returned. “Milah; thank y—ouu,” he started to say as he emerged from the closet, but it wasn’t Milah walking towards him. It was Eloise Gothel, who’d won the Games a couple years ago. Like most Victors-turned-mentors, she was dressed in the style of Olympus, her red hair in a complicated updo and a flowing green gown that somehow managed to hug all her curves. He averted his gaze, though, when he realized his eyes were wandering.

“Here,” she said, holding out her hand to reveal two small, white pills. “They’re not as strong, but better than nothing.”

“Thanks,” he answered, and she tipped them into his palm. He quickly popped them, and washed them down with the glass of water she’d also brought. The effect was nearly immediate as the throbbing dulled and he could breathe again. And then took a few more sips to wash the taste of vomit from his mouth. Just one room over were all kinds of delicacies, and here he was, unable to stomach any of it. How cruel.

“I suppose I should head back in,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward in the presence of a Victor (well, another one—he still had to remind himself that he was one now, too). Especially one like Eloise, who had won in such a cutthroat manner—literally by cutting throats, after immobilizing people with her magic and making use of the poisonous plants in the arena. The thick bracelet on her wrist was likely the only thing holding her powers back now. (It was all a stark contrast to the beautiful visage in front of him; he was having a hard time tamping down his attraction.) “Were you sent out here to find me?”

“I was,” she stated matter-of-factly; the expression on her face was hard to read—possibly intrigued, or possibly annoyed. (Or both.) “But not to return you to the party. Would you like to come with me?”

“Where?”

“Someplace special.” There was genuine amusement in her blue eyes, but he wasn’t sure how sincere her half smile was. Still, he had no reason to turn her down.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Follow me.”

She led him down the hallway and around a couple corners to what looked like an office of some sort; he wondered if it belonged to the Gamemaker. Eloise pressed her finger against the keypad and the door slid open. He didn’t know why he hesitated to follow her in, though, until she turned around and beckoned.

Inside was nothing like he’d expected. Much of the Tribute Castle was clean and cold, sharp lines and sterile surfaces. But this room was the exact opposite: dark, warm colors covered everything, and all the furniture was the plushest he’d ever seen. An especially comfortable-looking bed was off to one side and the soft lighting made the space feel even more welcoming.

“What is this?” he asked on a breath.

“Somewhere to relax,” she replied, falling against a cushion so stuffed he couldn’t tell if it was actually a sofa or merely a giant pillow. “Join me, won’t you?”

It certainly looked enticing—as did the company—so he complied, letting himself collapse next to her. The cushion somehow managed to both support and embrace his body, although he winced a bit at the way his blunted wrist hit it; he was still getting used to that.

“Are you alright?” she asked, concerned.

“Aye, I’m fine,” he lied, wanting to impress the slightly older woman. The strap on her dress had slipped a bit, revealing the curve of her bosom. He may have just survived a battle to the death, but he was still technically a young, hormonal man.

“Perhaps you’d like a distraction?” she breathed, shifting closer.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Good.” And then she surged forward, claiming his lips with hers.

A blushing virgin, Killian was not, but that was certainly one of the more enjoyable nights in his memory. He learned a thing or two about how to pleasure both a woman and himself.

They were laying in the afterglow, sharing slightly awkward smiles and giggles. For the first time since his name had been plucked, he’d finally been able to forget where he was and what was going on around him; if he was reading the slightly starry expression on Eloise’s face correctly, she felt the same.

It was at that perfect moment of bliss, of course, that he was jarred by the sound of a cough coming from the shadows.

He jolted away from Eloise in shock; she seemed equally surprised, but less confused.

“Oh, don’t stop on my part,” the person called out, and it was easy to tell who the voice belonged to.

“Welcome, Mister Jones,” President Gold said, rising to his feet. “And let me extend my congratulations again.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Killian answered, but he was utterly confused (both mentally and physically).

“I see you’re getting along well with Miss Gothel.”

“Yeah…” he said, but when he looked to Eloise for guidance, he could no longer read her expression.

“You know, you’re quite the handsome young man,” Gold continued, hobbling forward with his cane. “I’m sure you’ve attracted many admirers over the last few weeks.”

What on earth was the President getting at? And why the bloody hell was he here? Had he...had he watched?

“An attractive young man like you...people would pay a high price to fall into your good graces.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t follow,” Killian finally had to say, trying to sit up while also keep his modesty somewhat intact, tugging the covers over his lap.

“Eloise, you didn’t tell him?”

“Not yet, sir; I figured it would be best coming from you.” There was just enough defiance in her tone that Killian could tell whatever was going on wasn’t entirely by choice.

“I suppose you’re right,” the President sighed. “Well, Mister Jones, you see, I have many friends who I like to repay for their loyalty and support. And I have access to the rarest, most desired commodity around.”

“What, Victors?”

“Exactly. Particularly the ones, such as yourself and Miss Gothel, who are exceedingly appealing to the eye. And, well, I like to give the very best.”

Killian blinked, stunned. The President couldn’t be insinuating what he thought he was—could he?

“A night with a Victor covers a lot of ground, both politically and financially. You’re a smart lad; that shouldn’t come as a surprise, should it?”

It didn’t, but that didn’t mean he was any less repulsed. “So you whore out Victors to your benefactors?”

“See, I knew you’d figure it out.”

Eloise, for her part, was looking both sheepish and a bit frightened during their exchange. God, what had she been put through?

“I won’t do it,” Killian said defiantly.

Gold just cackled in reply—a terrifying sound that sent shivers up his spine.

“You have to,” Eloise murmured. “If you don’t, he’ll—he’ll hurt the people you love.” If Killian’s memory served correct, Eloise had a mother and sisters back home; was that how Gold got power over her?

“Then I’m afraid the President’s information is incorrect; I don’t have anyone,” Killian spat out.

“Oh, I have plenty of other ways of making you hurt. It would be a shame if Atlantica’s grain supplies stopped coming in, wouldn’t it? Or if an infestation of dreamshade found its way to, say, Mr. Nemo’s yard?”

That stopped Killian cold; any lingering heat from the previous activities dissipated in an instant. “No,” he breathed. “You wouldn’t.”

“I think you’ll find, Mister Jones, that there’s very little I’m not willing to do.” Gold followed with a sneering, reptilian grin.

This couldn’t be happening. Victory was supposed to be freedom—freedom from the looming threat of the games and all the shadows they’d cast on his life. Not this...slavery.

But he’d been in enough fights in his life, even before the Arena, to know when he was outmatched. Gold’s sneer and Eloise’s resigned expression told him enough.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Gold snorted. “Glad you came around; not like you had much choice. Although,” he started, tapped his fingers on his cane in thought. “That does remind me. I’ve considered expanding this venture to the sponsorship side of things, if you were interested.”

No, he wasn’t, but Killian couldn’t help but be curious. “What would that mean?”

“Sponsorship during the games also brings in quite a bit of revenue. But I’ve always wondered just how much more it could take if there were certain other...perks attached. Would you like to help me test my theory?”

Killian swallowed. “Would I be able to choose the sponsors?”

“To some extent, yes. The ones who can afford it.”

It was the best opportunity Killian was going to have in this. He would be little more than a prostitute, but if he could have any level of choice, he’d be an idiot not to take it. “Alright,” he said, an unconfident agreement.

“It seems we have a deal, then,” Gold replied, almost squealing, then offered Killian his hand, which was gingerly taken. “I’ll give you the full details at the next games. Eloise,” he continued, sharply, “you have another appointment in a half hour. Don’t be late.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows once more, letting the most awkward of silences fall onto the two left.

Killian didn’t know how long they sat there, not moving. At some point, he shivered; whether it was from the sweat cooling on his body or in reaction to the exchange with Gold was up for debate. But that seemed to jolt Eloise, who finally started to move again; Killian slowly joined her.

They faced away from each other as they moved about the room, gathering and putting on their clothes from the random places they’d landed. It was almost easy to act like the other person wasn’t there—until it came time for a Killian to button his shirt.

“Fuck,” he muttered, attempting to do it with his remaining hand—and not having much luck.

“I’ve got it,” Eloise said quietly, and finished pulling up the side zipper on her dress before coming over.

He watched her fingers carefully do up the closures, afraid to make eye contact. He didn’t know what he’d find in her gaze—apology? Remorse? Or worse: nothing? Did it matter? She was a victim in all this, too.

But she spoke up before he could ask. “I’m sorry for luring you here under false pretenses.” That was putting it lightly; he knew she was only doing what she’d been commanded, though. Still, he didn’t respond. “But I just want you to know that you’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to sleep with.”

With that, she did up the last button on his shirt, placed a quick kiss on his cheek, and turned to leave.

He waited for the click of the door closing before he moved again, hoping the brief moment of time would be enough to get his racing thoughts in order. That had been the most confusing, exhilarating, horrifying encounter of his...well, he couldn’t say life, or even week, but definitely that day—and hopefully the last such moment in his life.

He felt used, but by Gold, not Eloise. And he would probably have to get accustomed to that feeling.

He took one more deep breath before putting on his jacket, only wincing slightly when it brushed his bare stump, and left the room; something told him it would be occupied again soon. Hopefully, he looked presentable; all he wanted to do was go back to the plush bed in Atlantica’s quarters, but he knew he’d be expected back in the gala. They’d probably wondered where he’d gone.

The sad, knowing smile on Milah’s face when he snuck back into the room told him, though: she knew exactly where he’d been, and why.

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thanks, as always!!! tagging: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @its-imperator-furiosa @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @killian-whump @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes

#cs ff #captain swan rewrite a thon #csrt 2020 #the magic games #(love will see us through these) dark days #my ff

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jolienjoyswriting · 5 years ago

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Rockman - Exciting Times in L.A, Ch. I

Chapter 1 of "Exciting Times in L.A," a Mega Man fan fiction story.

So. This is the first chapter of what was supposed to be my contribution to Roll Day, 2019. As you might have guessed… I didn't get it done, in time. But, hey! At least I actually finished this story unlike "Roll's Blues," ha hah…

A-anyway, enjoy the cute story I cooked up! … hope you're into actiony things with a pinch of schmaltz~

Word count: 4,414 – Character count: 24,816 Originally written: June 6th, 2019

A pleasant day in L.A. turns into a tense situation as Dr. Wily appears in the skies above!

Thomas Light, Rock/Megaman, Roll, Rush, Bass, Treble, Mega Man/Rockman, and related characters and properties created by and © Capcom Co, Ltd.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

In the year 20XX – sometime in Spring, actually – the famous researcher of robotics, Dr. Thomas Light, had been invited to attend a technology summit in Los Angeles, California. It seemed that he was to be one of their special guest speakers! After looking at the planned schedule for the summit, he also noticed that he had quite a bit of free time to spend… and, what better way to spend that time than by catching up with family?

“Rock, Roll! Are you ready to see the sights of the city?” “Yes, Doctor!”

A robotic boy with fluffy, brown hair was the first to walk into the hallway from Dr. Light’s luxury suite. Dressing for a nice day of casual fun, Rock had put on of a light, zip-up jacket with a white hood, a blue body, and white sides which ran along the undersides of the short sleeves. He also wore dark-beige cargo shorts and a what one might call “sneaker-boots” – a pair of sleek-looking shoes that almost looked like boots, but were designed like high-top sneakers with white soles and a white “tongue.” They also had red “energy ports” at the ankles, though those looked more like decals than anything functional.

“I like that outfit,” the doctor commented as he adjusted his own shirt. “It makes you look mature, but you still remind me of the little boy I created so many years ago…” Rock lightly blushed, rubbing his cheek and giving a smile. “Thanks.” “Say, where’s your sister unit, Rock?” “Oh! She was in the bathroom, last time I checked.” “Is she still getting ready…?” Dr. Light sighed with a smile. “That girl…” “Do you want me to check on her?” He gave a nod. “Please, do. We have a schedule to keep, after all!” Rock nodded as well, then he headed back into the hotel room.

“Roll?” he called after knocking on the bathroom door. “Are you ready, yet?” “Almost!” a cheerful voice called back. “Well, please hurry! Doctor Light wants to go… like, right now.” “In a minute!” “You’ve got fifty-seven seconds left, Roll!” the boy teased with a grin. “D-don’t rush me…!” “Fifty-threeeee…” he told her in a sing-song voice. “Rock!” “Forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven…” “Alright, already! I’m coming out!” “I knew that’d get her,” he told himself as he stepped away from the door.

A moment later, the boy blinked and stared. Roll had exited the bathroom, just as promised… but, she was wearing an outfit he’d never seen, before. “Well?” the girl asked with a somewhat shy smile. “What do you think?” He wasn’t sure what to say… so, he just spent a minute looking her over.

The girl stood with her hands behind her back, slowly squirming from-side-to-side. As always, her long hair was tied into a high ponytail with a cute, green ribbon tied into a bow, two long bunches hanging down from her forehead-length bangs, dropping over her ears and coming down to her neckline… but, her body was covered by a something that looked like two dresses, of vastly-differing fabrics, layered on top of each other. The first dress was a simple, short-sleeved, hooded, frilly sort of “slip” which was white and stopped just above the knees. The second short-sleeved “dress,” though, sat just off her shoulders and looked about level with her knees. It, too, was short-sleeved, but it was made of some sort of semi-transparent, orange material which was split down the middle. The top half looked like it could be buttoned closed… but, he didn’t see any fastens, so he figured it was stitched together. Either way, the fabric also seemed very sensitive to motion, as every time Roll moved, it would silently flutter before settling. She was also wearing a pair of black leggings and some baggy knee-socks that were bunched up around her ankles which were white in color and had aqua-colored stripes around their elastic-bound tops. Lastly, he noticed the pair of orange sneakers she wore. They had sky-blue tongues, pale-blue soles, and… seemingly had his attention for a bit longer than the dress.

“Roll…” The girl twitched. He’d looked back up with a smile. “Those shoes look so cool!” he exclaimed. “You’ll have to let me try ‘em on, later!” “Rock!” the girl called with a huff. “I asked you what you thought of my outfit!” “Your outfit…?” Rock gave another blink… then, his eyes opened. “Oh!” He offered another smile. Then, he told her… “You look like you’re ready for a fun day out – especially with those comfy sneakers!” Roll blinked… then, she puffed her cheeks and grew angry, stomping her foot. A second later, she tramped out of the room without so much as another word, leaving her counterpart baffled… He followed her at a distance, then the three Lights headed downstairs.

Shortly after leaving the hotel, the trio headed down to the curbside. Dr. Light called for a cab, then took a moment to explain his schedule to the two robots. “I have a full day of fun activities planned. It should be quite an adventure!” “Sounds good, Doctor!” Rock called. “Right, Roll?” “Hmph!” Rock gave her another blink. Roll had crossed her arms and looked away. Clearly, she was she still upset from before… and, he still didn’t know why! “First, we’ll–” The doctor paused as a noise caught his attention. Both Rock and Roll looked his way as he reached into the pocket of his dark-green shorts and withdrew a phone. “Hello?” he called as he answered the ringing item. “Yes? Yes? Wait– now? But– Oh, Mikhail had to reschedule, you say?” Roll looked up, her face immediately changing from a pout to an expression of concern. “Is Kalinka okay?” was the first thought she had. “He’ll speak tomorrow?” the doctor continued, nodding at Roll. “Well, I was hoping to– What? Oh, right. Yes, yes, alright. Thank you for letting me know. Goodbye.” With his conversation finished, he closed his phone. As he turned back toward his robots, though… he looked a little glum.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?” Rock asked his creator. “Bad news, I’m afraid,” he told the two. “Rather than speak, tomorrow… they want me to go on, today. In one hour, in fact! I can’t take you on a tour of the city like I’d planned…” “That is too bad…” the boy said with a frown. “I was looking forward to seeing all the cool sights and sounds!” “Yes… I am quite sorry, my boy. But, as the saying goes…” Dr. Light smiled. “‘Duty calls.’ Now, I have to head back in. I can’t very well show up wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sandals, after all!” Rock gave a laugh. “I bet they’d love that!” “A must admit,” the doctor mused with a grin. “it would be quite amusing to see their reaction…” Rock laughed a little more and even Roll started to giggle. “In any case… Roll, would you help me get ready?” “Yes, Doctor.” With that, the trio headed back in.

“I really was looking forward to spending a day with you two…” the doctor told Roll as he got dressed in the bathroom. She was leaning against the wall next to the door, her hands behind her back and eyes fixed on Rock… who had found a place on the king-sized bed. He was playing something on a handheld game system, from the look – and, sounds – of it. “Me, too…” she replied in a quiet voice, her eyes roaming up to the ceiling. There was a long period of silence before Dr. Light spoke back up. “It seems like a shame to just… waste a perfectly good day, like this.” “Hm…?” The doorknob clicked, then the bathroom door opened. Shortly after, the fully-equipped doctor of robotics walked out, wearing his usual outfit of a lab coat, dress shirt, tie, maroon jeans, and brown loafers. “I was just thinking…” he told Roll as he adjusted his tie, “you two don’t need to be there… and, it would be a waste to be cooped up in this hotel room…” Roll’s eyes started to light up. It almost sounded like… “Why don’t you two go out and explore the city, together?” “You mean it, Doctor Light?!”

The girl turned her attention to Rock. He had spoken in an excited voice, leaped up, and was standing right in front of the doctor not long after he’d made the suggestion. “Certainly!” the doctor said with a jolly laugh. “You two may look like children… and, you sometimes act like it, too! But, I feel like you two are mature enough to wander around the town… so long as you stay together.” “Right! I’ll keep Roll safe from strangers!” Rock bravely proclaimed. “Actually, I think he wants me to keep you away from the shops.”

The boy blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean…?” “Oh, nothing…” she smirked. “Say, how’s your doll collection going?” “H– hey! They’re figurines!” he countered. “And, if I can just get that last Street Fighter M.U.S.C.L.E. figurine, I’ll have ‘em all!” “And, how much of your allowance are you going to spend to get it?” “What’s it matter to you?!” he countered with a grumpy face. “Besides, you’re the one who spends a ton of Zenny on useless stuff!” Roll gasped, looking insulted. “I do not!” “Do, too! You spend all your Zenny on clothes and books!” “I like looking cool and pretty!” she rebutted. “And, I like reading!” “All you ever wear is that same red dress, though!” Rock countered, focusing on her apparel. She blinked, then she scowled. “Have you even seen what I’m wearing, today?!” Rock huffed. “You’re probably wearing it under that thing, right now!” “‘Thing?!’” The girl threw her hands down and stomped before shouting, “This is the latest fashion from– a-and, I am not!” “You are, too!” he smartly retorted. “I am not!” “Are, too! “Am, n–” “Children, please!” The two both blinked at each other before looked back up at their creator. He was giving them a strong, disapproving look. Clearly, he’d had enough of their arguing.

“S-sorry, Doctor…” Rock said as he looked away, rubbing his arm. Roll didn’t say anything, but she had her own guilty face as she put her hands behind her back and tapped the floor with one toe. “And, here I was complimenting you, both, for being mature…” the doctor sighed. He smiled, then, before telling them, “I’m, honestly, glad that you two quarrel, though.” “Why, Doctor?” Rock asked. “Because, you were made to in the image of two eight-year-old children and created as a pair; to be one another’s ‘sibling’ units,” he explained. “Frankly, I would be worried if you two didn’t get into a disagreement, on occasion!” “W-well…” Roll started to say. “Besides… It’s not like a silly fight over pocket money means you’ve stopped loving each other, right?” “Of course not!” the boy said with a bright smile aimed at Roll. “I’ll always love Roll! She’s my sister!” Roll blinked… then, she blushed and looked away. “A-and… he’s my… ‘brother,’” she said in a low voice. “I… love him, too.” “Well, there you are!” The non-identical twins both blinked, then they smiled and laughed as the doctor pulled them into a hug. Roboticist or not… he really did make a good father figure.

“I’ll be off, now. I’m a little behind schedule, as it is…”

A short trip down to the ground floor later, the trio were standing at the street. Dr. Light had hailed a taxi and was climbing in as he waved goodbye to the two robots. “Take care of each other, in my absence!” he called as he sat down and buckled into the backseat. “Try not to fight with each other too much!” “We won’t fight!” Roll assured him. “Not unless Rock blows his allowance on little dolls, again, I mean.” “Hey!” The girl gave a sly grin as her counterpart shot her a dirty look. “They’re collectible figurines!” he explained. “I just explained that!” “Dolls… Figurines…” She shrugged and winked. “Same difference!” “Children…” The two looked at the doctor as he shook his head and chuckled. He really couldn’t stay mad at them for even a minute…

“Have fun. Be good. Stay out of trouble.” “Yes, Doctor!” they both told him. “If something comes up, don’t hesitate to contact me!” he told them as the taxi cab started pulling away. “I’ll see you in a few hoouuurs…!” “‘byyyyye…!” they called, both of them waving. Before long, the car was out of sight and the two were left on their own.

“Okay, Roll!” The girl looked over at her brown-haired counterpart, blinking her green eyes. “What should we do, first?” he asked with a smile. “Well… what do you want to do?” was the only thing she could think to say. “I dunno… What do you want to do?” “I… don’t know. Uh…” She paused before asking, again, “What do you want to do?” He smirked before teasingly saying, “I asked you, first!” “You sure did!” she giggled as he started laughing. Once the two calmed down, she hummed before saying, “Is there… someplace, in particular, that you wanna see?” He thought about it for a moment… then, he admitted, “I… really can’t think of anywhere I want to visit. I really don’t know much about California, or even L.A!” Roll gave it some thought, herself, before she suggested… “Wanna just wander?” “Sure!” That settled, the two headed off in a random direction from the hotel. They had absolutely no plan, no guidance, and only one directive: find something interesting and fun!

At one point, they found a man on a street corner who spoke about “the end,” a lot… but, after about five minutes of listening, they realized that he was just going on about “the end of high prices” and was advertising a car lot which was down the block. Since neither of them could afford a car and had a special license to do so only in Colorado, they moved on. A little later, they found something odd: an apartment complex that was on fire! Of course, Rock quick-changed into his armor and ran in to see what he could do, leaving Roll to worry. Roll made a note to tell Dr. Light to watch the news, later, as he was interviewed by the local news. Once all that was settled, the hero dusted himself off and changed back into his civilian outfit, giving her a nod and a smile as they continued on their way.

“I know the firemen had it under control…” Rock told Roll as they walked side-by-side, “but, I had to see if I could make a difference!” “I’m sure they appreciated the extra help!” she said as she licked her thumb. “I just feel bad that it cut into our time in L.A, so much… It’s already noon!” He smiled as she rubbed what he assumed was a dirty spot on his cheek. “But, even though we’re not doing anything… I’m still having fun just being with you!” Roll blushed a little before letting her hand drop down. When it found his, she took hold and smiled only to look away when he returned the favor. “Me, too…” was her shy response. After a moment, she brushed some hair away from her face, looked back, and asked… “Do you… wanna see if there’s a movie theater, somewhere?” “Oh, yeah! There’s that movie you wanted to watch, right?” Rock asked. “Say, I wonder if there’s a mall, nearby? They might have a movie theater! Then, we could go to the food court and get something to munch on. I kind’a want some nachos…” She nodded. “O-okay, sure!” Then, after asking for directions… the two took a long walk, heading to a distant mall.

The day remained cool and peaceful as the robot children walked hand-in-hand, together. Rock had started swinging his arm as they moved along, but Roll didn’t mind. She was too busy enjoying just being with him and holding hands. She knew he was probably doing it just to be a good ‘brother…’ but, she didn’t care. To her, being able to hold his hand for so long was almost as good as seeing him smile right at her… which was something he’d been doing, a lot, since they’d started their walk! She really was having a great day.

I wonder… After a mile or so, Roll got curious. When they came to a crosswalk, she let go of his hand – which got his attention. When she took Rock’s hand in hers, again… she tried slipping her fingers between his. “Roll?” The girl blinked and flushed, drawing her hands over her lap and looking away. “Are you having fun?” she heard him ask. “Wh-what?” she nervously twittered. When she looked his way… he was giving a warm, friendly smile. “I said, ‘are you having fun?’” he repeated in the same cheery tone as before. “O-of course!” was her over-excited response. “I-I mean… if you are…?” “Okay!” He beamed before explaining, “I thought you might be getting bored. We’ve been walking for a while… and, you stopped talking a few blocks back!” “Oh! N-no! I’m just…” She contently sighed, shimmying in-place and giving him a sweet look. “I’m just enjoying your company…” He blinked at the odd tone she’d used, but… “I’m enjoying your company, too!” Roll blushed a little more and had to hide her face with both hands… “Er, Roll…?” She giggled and shook her head. “Y… yes?” “We can cross, now!”

Roll blinked a couple of times… then, she blushed for an entirely different reason. Rock was walking away and, from the sound of it, it seemed like he absolutely… positively… had not noticed her reactions to his kind words. Of course, he didn’t… she grumpily told herself as she caught up and followed close behind. Rock probably doesn’t even know I like him like that. How can someone be so mature… but, be so clueless, at the same time?! It was a mystery that would have to wait for another day, for as the two crossed together… “Hey, what’s that?” Something in the sky caught Rock’s attention… and, he got Roll’s. The two looked up only for Roll to gasp and cover her mouth. “I-is that…?!” “Doctor Wily’s UFO!” her counterpart confirmed. “And, look!” Trailing behind the blue-and-gold saucer was another shape… one whose purple and gold hues shined in the noonday light. “It’s Bass and Treble!” she realized. Almost immediately after, though… “H… hey? Are they… getting closer?” “Light ‘bots…!” a distant voice cried. They’d been spotted! Bass was coming down!

Roll couldn’t believe what was happening… Just moments before, she’d been on Cloud Nine, spending time with her favorite person! She had him all to herself, too! But, now… her most-favorite person’s time was about to be wasted by her least-favorite person! So much for their peaceful day out…

“Run away, Roll!” Rock shouted as he shoved the blond-haired girl toward a nearby building. “I think he means business!” “No!” she cried as she stood with her back to the brick wall behind her. She watched as Bass landed on the pavement with a soft clatter, the mechanisms in his boots dampening the impact of his great leap from the skies above. He looked angry… “So, it is you two!” he shouted as his wolf-like canine companion unit, Treble, landed beside him and transformed out of jet mode. “Thought you could hide from us by wearing those dorky clothes, huh?! Not today! Not ever!” Rock instinctively threw his arms out, putting himself between Bass and Roll. “What do you want, Bass?!” was his response. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” “I’m not here for you, nerd! Outta the way!” Roll gasped as the brown-haired robot was thrown to one side with a yelp by the slightly-taller figure. For a moment, she felt a little afraid. But, then… “You… jerk…!” She felt a sudden surge of anger fill her.

“You just can’t leave poor Rock alone for one day, can you?!” she shouted as she stomped up to Bass, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Rock and I were having a great day, together! Then, you and your big, bad wolf decided to come down here and ruin it! You bullies! Don’t you have anything better to do than pick on Rock?!” Bass narrowed his eyes as Roll glared into them. He clearly wasn’t impressed. “Roll, no! Get away from him!” “Shut up,” Bass spat as Treble got between Rock and Roll. “This is private business.

“Like I said,” he continued, his attention turning back to Roll, “I didn’t come here for him. I came here for you.” “I’m not interested in anything you have to say you… fin-headed jerk!” His eyes narrowed a little more. He reached up, running a hand along one fin before saying, “Don’t dis the helmet, blondie.” “I’ll ‘dis’ whatever I want!” the girl shouted. “Now, leave us alone!” “That ain’t happenin’,” he was quick to tell her. “What do you even want?!” Roll shrieked with frustration. “Just go away!” “Well, I was gonna say… ‘thanks.’” “Y– what.” Rock had gotten to his feet and was already in his armor, ready to fight his way through Treble to save Roll from the wolf’s master. However… both he and the tongue-tied Roll were flummoxed by hearing that.

“Thank us?” Rock scoffed as he started charging energy. “For what?” “Not you, little-boy-blue.” Bass sighed, then he relaxed as he said, “Her.” The blond robot gave a suspicious glare. “What… what are you–” “Remember that time I beat your bro so bad, he couldn’t move for a week?” Her glare intensified… but, she smirked. “If I remember right…” she started with a sassy tone, “it was him that beat you up and put you out-of-commission for a week!” “Don’t get smart with me,” he snorted. “And, don’t play dumb, with me!” was her reply. “Listen, you little brat!” the robot in black shouted, causing the girl to wince. “I came down here to thank you… for keeping an eye on my pooch while I was laid up!” “You… W-wait. That– oh!” Suddenly, Roll stood up straight and wore an expression of surprise. “That week you fought… You were both… oh, oh! Oh, right! I… I forgot that…” She blinked, then. Treble had come over and was nuzzling her hand – something that made Rock go wide-eyed… especially when he watched her pet the canine.

“Yeeaaah, I never got a chance to thank you. I got mad at Treble after that fight and… he ran straight to you, for some dumb reason. Guess he likes you…” Bass begrudgingly told her. “I… y-you’re welcome?” she told him as she knelt down and kept petting the appreciative wolf-dog. She really didn’t know what to say. “Now, I was gonna thank you…” The other robot sneered as he nastily said, “But, if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, then you can forget I even thought about it!” And, it was at that moment that Bass learned… Roll did not like hearing swear words.

“You potty-mouth!” she scolded after slapping him. “How dare you use that kind of language in front of a girl!” When Treble growled at her, she jerked around, putting her hands on her hips and glaring. “Don’t you start!” she snapped. Rock could hardly believe it when Treble actually whimpered, laid down, and put his paws over his muzzle. He’d never seen that dog look so timid, before! Then again, Roll did have a way with naughty animals… and, misbehaving “brothers,” he thought with a bashful grin.

“Now…” she said in a calmer, still-angered tone as she turned back to Bass. “I–” But, before she could get another word out… “Roll!!” “Bitch.” Bass had sucker-punched her right in the stomach, dropping the girl to her knees.

“That’s it!!” Rock roared as he took aim at Bass. “Get away from her!!” “Puh-lease…” the combat robot said before spitting on the sidewalk. His wolf was already standing between him and Rock, loudly growling. “I don’t have time to play with you, today, blue bomber. I just came down to thank Roll. But, apparently…!” The girl winced and cried out as he yanked her up by the ponytail. “She doesn’t care if I appreciate what she did! She’d rather just be a stupid–” “I’m sorry!!” Roll blurted out with a shrill cry. “You’ll be sorrier the next time I see you!” She gave another yelp as she was thrown over Treble and right into Rock, knocking him over. When the two looked up, they saw that the wolf-dog had transformed back into Jet Mode and that Bass was already on top of him.

“Wily’s probably half-way to the convention center, by now… He’ll get steamed if I don’t catch up – not that I care.” He snorted, again. “See you there, Light nerds!” With that, he flew into the sky before rocketing off in the direction Wily’s UFO had gone, leaving Rock and a teary-eyed Roll laying on the concrete.

“He’s… such a jerk…” Roll whimpered. “Yeah, he is…” Rock blinked… then, he jolted. “Oh, gosh! Roll! Are you okay?!” “My tummy hurts…” She paused… then, she gave a hollow chuckle. “I goofed.” “We’ll get him back! I’ll call Rush and–” “N-no, I mean…” He gave another blink as Roll stood up. When she helped him to his feet, he noticed… even though she had a couple of tears running down her cheeks, she was kind of… smiling…? “I… shouldn’t have snapped at him…” she sighed before rubbing her face. “He’s just a huge jerk,” Rock said as he slowly vented his charged solar energy. “I–” “No. For once… he was totally right, Rock.” “He… he was?” “Don’t think he should’ve called me the B-word or hit me, but…” The robot in the blue armor growled… but, when Roll patted his shoulder, he calmed. “I’m a little surprised, though…” She shakily giggled before saying, “I didn’t think he even knew what the words ‘thank you’ meant!” “He’s… just full of surprises, I guess?” Rock said with an uncertain grin. The two fell silent for a second… then, Roll leaned in and hugged her twin. “Sorry for making him mad…” “Roll…” They had a sweet, reflective moment. Then, Roll leaned back with a frown…

“We should call the Doctor.”

#fan fiction #Mega Man #Exciting Times in LA #commercial characters #Thomas Light #Rock Light #Megaman #Roll Light #Rush #Bass Wily #Treble #slice of life #action

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