Title: Twisted Mentality
Fandom: Rockman Battle Network / EXE
Characters: Rockman; Blues.
Rating: Almost NC-17, but I lack the abilities to make it porny LOL
Genre: drama, angst... kind-of-but-not-quite romance?
Disclaimer: don't own, don't sue.
Warning: Torture, abuse, split personalities, over use of the mix of EXE's universes.... mostly, the games and the manga. I would say gayness, but that's nothing compared to the first two things.

When his eyes firstly opened, the world seemed like a sea of mist, all white and terrifyingly silent. Blues couldn't remember how he got there. He was only sure of the pain on his head (and the fact that he didn't have the helmet on, god forbid why), and his inability to move his arms.

... Wait.

Inability to move his arms...?

"You woke up already... I thought I screwed you up good." Blues looked at his right, just to see Rockman sitting with his legs crossed, smiling happily, but with some light in those eyes he had never seen before. "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. I can keep this for a while, and if you're conscious is way funnier."

That was the moment when Blues realized he was trapped (and handcuffed) in Rock's... little scheme. Not to mention the systematical sparks of pain he felt, one after the other, like tiny knifes piercing his body. Which was, in the end, a perfect definition, since that pain came from real cuts on his body; small cuts, not to deep not to superficial, just enough to ache constantly.

"You're feeling it? It took me a lot of effort to make all those cuts on you..." His voice was so tuneless for a situation like this, Blues wanted to believe this wasn't Rockman. What he wanted, of course, isn't what he gets. There was not doubt on who this navi was. "Now... what should I do?" the blue navi said, while sitting on top of his victim, keeping that twisted smile on his face. "I could break your chest and take your core out of your body, and play with it for a while; I could keep cutting you, which is a very appealing idea; or..." his thoughts seemed to travel along with his words, to a world where pain and pleasure collide.

Blues was, to anyone surprise, not very amused by this twisted sweet talk from this... this navi (It wasn't Rockman, it wasn't Rockman, it couldn't be... denial, would he scream to himself). Yet, he was quite amazed by this turn of events; not being deleted by his enemy within the first chance they got? That was something new, and strange.

"Or what?"

"... or I could keep looking at you until you admit I'm Rockman, so I could hurt you without you being in denial." Blues went stiff to that response. Not being able to process it completely, his eyes not moving and not blinking (and if he was a human, he would probably had them dry, by now), his whole body went from solid rock to a small shaking mass in mere seconds. What happened to the adorable, childish Rockman?

"Stop looking me like that, you piece of shit." Rockman's smile grew ever more twisted. "If you keep denying the obvious, I'll have to cut your handsome face, ok?" He brushed delicately his fingers against Blues' cheeks, so slowly and softly, it almost eased the ache. "But you're partly right about this... I'm not exactly your cute, dear Rock." Those fingers became a strong fist, and crashed against his face with enough strength to break his lips. "But I'm Rock, per se... Uhm... So difficult to understand."

For the first time in all his existence, Blues wanted to hide, to disappear from the world and keep himself trapped in some dark and remote place that suited the torment his soul was being tested with. He tried to avoid looking at Rock's eyes; he didn't to lose himself in those pools of watery green, leaving his guard down. But how much could his guard keep up, bound and hurt like he was now?

"You know, he was human once... then he died, and then he lived again in the body of a navi." His hand came back to Blues's cheeks, the one that hadn't been hit, scraping slowly but strongly, trying to dig into his skin. "But... does that makes him the human he was once?" Blues was sure the skin was breaking. "You think that just because he has some pathetic feelings and memories he's the same that was once alive in that disgusting material world?" And now he was completely assured a pool of pixel were starting to flown, and fade away in the space, from that wound.

"So... I think you know who I am..." For a moment, those blue clad hands touched the crest on his chest, delicately, just like the dew in the morning, making him tense. "Come on, say my name, you bastard."

It was weird, amazingly impossible, and completely twisted, the idea that this was who Blues knew he was.

"S... sa... Saito...?" The sweet giggle and wicked smile were more than enough answer. But his captor was still in the mood for a talk.

"Oh, so the big, silent knight on shining armor finally remembers? Well, of course, you never met me; but still... this body is already a quite big give away." Saito's fingers came back to the crest, drawing little circles in such a sinfully slow motion, Blues thought he was going to die just from that. "I don't know what's worst... me finally causing, and enjoying, some pain on you, or you being aroused by said pain."

"I... I a... I am not..." Blues had to cut mild sentence when one of those blue fingers crashed against his chest, breaking it in the process.

"I told you already, is not so fun when you're in denial. I can tell that your armor is no the only thing red you have, I'm sitting on top of your body, and I have quite a nice view of your face, after all." The finger became Rockman's... Saito's full hand, breaking his armor and piercing his chest. "Who would have thought that all-mighty-swordsman Blues likes pain? Then again, I'm not exactly the one who thinks here... I'm not the strongest personality."

That ringed a bell in Blues memory. The mystery was solved; not the actual problem, but the first question had a solution.

"You... you're... a split... split-personality?" It was hard to talk, to breath even, and he didn't know if it was the pain or the pleasure causing that heaviness on him.

"Well, duh, genius. You're as slowly as they get. I'm what's left of the original Saito." Rockman's body started to sink on Blues, one hand playing inside the red navi's chest, his own chest at his side, and his head place on Blues's shoulder. "The poor, disgraceful piece of crap that's supposed to be me, this fucking Rockman, was so broken up inside, so full of that stupid emo shit kids have nowadays... he doesn't know if what he has from his time as Saito actually makes himSaito... becoming some sort of trauma, about himself and shit like that. And so, I'm here, the one that represents those traumas!"

"Then... why are... why are you doing... this?"

"You mean breaking you?" Blues tried to nod, but failed miserably. "Because mutilating other beings is fun... And also, because I'm sick of that fucking attitude you have... heck, I'm sure Rockman was sick of your stupidity at some point."

Saito sat straight again, getting his hand down and down and down, so down it may have cut through the other side, until he felt some smooth heat on his palm. Taking that heat, crushing him, serenely, not caring about Blues's horrified expression.

"I'm sick of you being the all-mighty-no-mistake-son-of-a-bitch you are... I'm sick of that bastard of myself being so damn obsessive with you, like you were such a big deal." The more words he spit out of his mouth, the more the pressure increased and the more Blues was about to cry in agony.

"I'm sick of you loving him, only."

That was, to say the least, quite a revelation to Blues.

"Wha... What?"

"You love him. You love what he is. You love Rockman... You don't love who he was. You don't love Saito... You don't love me." The pressure on his core was unbearable, and Blues had no other option to succumb to the pain, and scream loudly for all the net to hear.

"I'm sick of that! He's just a fucking replacement because I'm dead! And you, you piece of repugnant shit, had to be in love with him! Even though you know who I was, who I am, and what that little fucker is.... you love him!? He's not me, and I'm not him... and yet we're the same! You should love me too! Why can't you love me!?" Saito removed some of the pressure he was using on Blues's core... just because he wanted an answer, and it was pretty hard to get one if the other was in blinding pain.

"Aren't you going to say something you little piece of-"

"I... I do... do love him... more than any... thing..." Blues' voice was like a fine string about to get cut; so delicate and fragile, that no one would have believed it was his. "But... you'd said it... yourself... you're part of him... so, why do you... believe that I don't love... you?"

"You... you love me?" Rockman's... Saito's... Who cares?! cheeks darkened enough to match Blues' armor, and little transparent drops started running against that blush endlessly.

"I love... every part of him... including you." The pressure on his core felt every second lighter, until it finally despaired.

"I... I'm sorry... I'm so very sorry..." And Blues couldn't tell if this was Saito, or Rockman, or both... either way he could care less.

The only thing that were actually important now were Rockman's safety, his own (because, seriously, the pain was kinda unbearable since a long time ago), and how he was going to explain the way he got all this damage.

He also wanted to explain himself how could he enjoy being in such a position, how could he gain any pleasure from that kind of treatment... but he's too broken now.

Maybe another time... when both parts are conscious of what they want and what they're doing.

Author Notes: Uhm... yay? OK, explanations time, I guess... After reading, and studiying, texts related to psycology, I've come to the conclusion that having a metal dissorder is an idea that could perfectly work in his situation. We have to think that Rock was human at some point, and is stated that he holds memories of that time. Now, taking this into account, we could assume that he knows how death feels like... something like that (dying and being aware of that, not to mention coming back to life... even if it's a digital life) is a perfect example of a traumatic experience. Where do mental dissorders come from? You guess it, traumatic experiences.
We may also add the woderfull point that there is a slight possibility that Rock had some... difficulty in accepting the fact that he was a human once, and even take those memories as his, which helps a lot with the whole getting-a-split-personality thing here.
So, yeah, basically: I fucked up Psycology and Rockman to make some pseudo guro fic with intentions to be romantic... I'm so clever. *loves self*

Am I going to do a crappy sequel with Blues asking Rockman to treat him like crap? The awnser is yes.

Also, LONGEST ONE-SHOT I 'VE EVER DONE O_O... more than 1,500 words... wow.

Also Nº 2:

Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday my dear Sweet Honey (Necchan), Happy birthday to youuuuu~

*shots her with delicious cake on the face*