Disclaimer: Mega Man and its characters are copyright Capcom.
"Daaaddyyyy," said Vikki. "I'm tired. I don't want visitors."
"Nonsense," said Bruce as he headed to the door of the hospital room. "Some kind words from your friends will pep you right up!"
"I don't need to be pepped up," she protested, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to see them tomorrow. I'll rest today, they'll clear me to go home tonight or tomorrow morning, and I'll be back in school after that."
"Exactly," said Bruce in a way Vikki found deeply irritating.
"We're not agreeing about this!"
"Sure we are," said Bruce. "I want you to go to school tomorrow, too. That means you have to enjoy your day off while you've got it. And what better way to enjoy it than…"
"No," Vikki protested, reaching out from her hospital bed. "Don't…"
"Come on in, kids! Only four of you at a time, more can come later!"
Vikki forced a smile as the door went open. Her headache immediately intensified.
There was a rush of motion, a burst of girlish squeals, and an avalanche of words.
"You're so coooool!"
"Are you okay?"
"How did you do it?"
"Why did you do it?"
"Were you scared?"
"You were amazing—"
"One at a time, one at a time," said Bruce, a smile broad on his face. "She is resting, after all! Being so brave and strong takes a lot out of you!"
Vikki thought she might die of shame. Her cheeks burned. "It's fine, really."
"And humble, too," said Bruce, sounding impossibly pleased with himself. It made Vikki's nose crinkle. It was like he was taking credit for it, somehow. When there was nothing to take credit for...
"You may talk first," said Bruce, pointing.
One of Vikki's friends clapped her hands eagerly, but then pressed them to her face, as if all her words had fled her. "Vikki, I just wanted to say… well, we all heard about what you did."
"You did?" said Vikki weakly.
"Yes, we did. The school got a hold of the news report. It's been playing on loop."
"On loop," Vikki repeated.
"Yeah!"
"What… does it say?" Vikki asked, dreading the answer.
It was like a dam broke. Once again all four of Vikki's schoolfriends were blabbing over each other, their words a maelstrom of noise. Vikki's head throbbed angrily.
"One at a time or you'll have to leave," Bruce said, with only a little warning. "You, Jill, isn't it? Tell us what the school's been telling everyone."
"Well," said Jill, stalling for time. She'd had an awed expression on her face ever since she'd entered the room. It made Vikki feel queasiest of all. "They said… you were waiting at your bus stop, coming in to school, when some Mavericks attacked nearby. And then the Hunters came, and they stomped the Mavericks good! Of course they did, because X was there. But when they were cleaning up, there was one Maverick they missed. It wanted to shoot at X, but you…"
She sucked in a breath, and her eyes went so wide Vikki worried they might pop from their sockets. "You jumped out and pushed X out of the way," she said. "You knocked him away just in time. The explosion was still enough to knock you out, but X defeated the Maverick."
"That's my girl," Bruce purred. Vikki thought she might throw up.
"Well, that's… kinda what happened," she allowed, hating herself for the lie.
"Oooooh," said her friends.
"And of course the school is ga-ga over it," said one of them. "You're not just a hero for us, you're a hero for the whole school. That's why they've been playing the story on loop."
"Even the seniors are impressed," said Jill. "None of them ever saved a Hunter in battle."
"Only a few of them have even seen a Maverick, and they all hid the whole time!"
"I know that's what I'd do," said Jill. "I can't imagine doing what you did."
"Weren't you scared?"
"I…" Vikki frowned as she tried to remember. "I… don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I'd think you'd know if you were scared."
"That means you weren't scared."
"You're so brave!"
"Oooooh!" they all cooed.
"I think I was scared," Vikki said, trying to quiet them. "I know I was scared when the shooting started."
"That means you got over your fear."
"That's even braver!"
"That's super-brave!"
"I'm not brave, okay?" said Vikki. Her cheeks felt like they might combust at any moment. "I wasn't thinking about being brave when it happened. It just… happened."
"Vikki," said one of her friends patiently, "that is being brave."
"I don't think so," Vikki pouted. "And this is my room, right? My hospital room, anyway. So you have to follow my rules. And I don't want anyone else calling me brave, or daddy will make you leave, right daddy?"
"Of course, pumpkin," said Bruce.
Somehow that made Vikki feel even worse. He hadn't called her 'pumpkin' in years. That was a baby name. She wondered if her cheeks would ever not be blushing. "So no more of that, okay?"
Her friends looked at her like she was crazy, but one by one they reluctantly nodded.
"Good," said Vikki. She leaned back on her pillow and stared straight ahead, avoiding her friends' eyes.
"You still have to admit it was pretty badass," said one of them.
"Yeah," said Vikki in a teenager's passive-aggressive my-words-agree-with-you-but-my-tone-sure-doesn't voice. "It was pretty awesome of me."
"You don't think so?" said Jill, not understanding.
Vikki looked at her friends. They looked crestfallen, on the verge of disappointment. It was like they'd heard Christmas was cancelled but they didn't quite believe it and they were looking to her for confirmation.
Her head hurt.
She forced a smile again. "Sorry, it's just my head," she said. "It hurts pretty badly. I guess I did do something kinda neat, huh?"
Just like that the enthusiasm and energy was back. "You bet!"
"Awesome!"
"I still can't believe it."
"Listen," Vikki said, leaning forward a little and pitching her voice so they had to be quiet to hear her. "It's been a long day, and I need to rest. We'll talk about it some more tomorrow at school, okay?"
"Oh, of course."
"You bet."
"We'll let you get better."
"See you tomorrow."
"There we go," said Bruce. "Thanks for coming by, girls."
Vikki sank back onto the bed again. Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to relax. Now that her friends were gone, her nausea began to pass. Strangely, it didn't seem like the hubbub outside had diminished any. To be sure, it was a hospital. They were always busy, right?
"Okay, next four!"
Vikki's eyes shot open. Coming in through the door were four more of her classmates, all bursting with excitement.
"You're so cool!"
"How'd you do it?"
"I'm glad you're okay!"
"You're my hero!"
Vikki's head throbbed. She moaned.
It got harder and harder to stay cheery as the day went on. One of her classmates was kind enough to tell her that the school had bussed all her classmates out to visit her in the hospital. She protested once more to her dad to keep them out, but he insisted she needed the company.
There was a pause after the fourth group as the nurse came by. The nurse told Vikki she was just there for observation; after taking Vikki's vitals and checking for any signs of deeper damage, she promised to send the doctor by that evening with a discharge recommendation.
"Why do I have to wait until the evening?" Vikki whined.
"Because the doctors are a bit busy," the nurse said, sounding patient-but-harried herself. "Not everyone came through this attack as gracefully as you."
Vikki's heart sank as she realized what the nurse meant. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"Don't worry about it," the nurse said mercifully. "Just rest."
Vikki nodded. The nurse walked out. A thought occurred to Vikki—did the nurse consider putting up with all these visitors "resting"?—but the nurse was around the corner before Vikki had gathered her wits. Next thing she knew, her daddy was ushering the next few classmates into her room.
"Are you really okay?"
"You don't look like you've been in an explosion."
"You're just that hardcore, huh?"
The last classmate—a boy she barely knew as Toby- was quieter.
Vikki's cheeks were getting strained from forcing herself to smile. As before, she humored their questions, tried to accept their praise, and felt increasingly awful as it all went on. Only Toby failed to participate much.
She caught her daddy glance at the clock—it had taken her a while to realize he was keeping the groups on a time limit—and she knew there were only two minutes left. "Okay, last couple of questions," she said.
"Why'd you do it?"
It was Toby, speaking for the first time. He was looking at her intensely. Her guilt magnified.
"What do you mean?" she asked, hoping he would back off or give her an out.
"Why'd you put yourself at risk?" Toby asked. The other kids were staring at him; his cheeks flushed, but he stayed determined. "X is a robot. And he's a Hunter. It's his job to protect you, and your job to be protected. If you had died, he would have been in big trouble."
"But she didn't," protested another of her classmates. The others piled on.
"Yeah!"
"What she did was super-cool!"
"And it worked!"
"You don't get upset with someone being a hero!"
The cacophony kept Vikki from telling the boy the truth: he'd given voice to something that had been gnawing at her gut ever since she woke up.
She was pretty stupid, wasn't she?
"No fighting," said Bruce. "And actually, your time is up. Come on, you four, time to go."
There were more groups after that, of people further and further from her consciousness. The last four were practically strangers. They were strained from being kept waiting all day; she was more strained from having to put up with it all. Their exchanges were barely polite. Bruce mercifully ended the encounter after only a few minutes.
Finally her principal came through the door.
"Our school hero!" he said expansively. "You know, I don't think it's too late to rename the auditorium we're building…"
Vikki threw up a little in her mouth. At least, she felt like she did. "Please, no," she moaned.
The principal smiled. "And modest, too! Well, even if we don't name the auditorium after you, we'll be sure to honor you in it. I think we'll do an awards presentation at the next pep rally—I'll have the art department come up with an appropriate medal or trophy or…"
"Instead of that," intervened Bruce, "maybe an interview with the school newspaper? It'll still let you honor her without hauling her in front of the whole school."
Anger combined with Vikki's embarrassment—a combustible mixture. "An interview? Why would I do an interview?"
"I've fielded half a dozen requests for interviews already," said Bruce. "I told them all to wait a while. I figure, if we do the school newspaper interview, we can just do the one and then share it with those other guys…"
"You're solving the wrong problem!" Vikki shouted. The edges of her vision were blackening in her anger. "Who said I want to do any interviews? Who said I should? Who said I did anything worth interviewing?! I don't want to talk about it! I wish I'd never done it!"
There. She'd gone and said it. She'd said what she'd been thinking for hours. She'd said what she couldn't say to any of her classmates because it would have crushed them, and now she'd said it to her daddy and her principal and that was worse and now everything sucked.
She hated them all.
With a teenager's mix of hurt and defiance she crossed her arms in a huff and stared straight forward at nothing at all.
There were more words that followed, words between the principal and her daddy. She heard none of them. She was too busy sulking to pay attention. It was only when her daddy pulled up a chair next to her and called her "pumpkin" again that she looked up.
"I thought you were done calling me that," she grumbled.
"Look at me," he asked, softly, patiently.
She turned her head, still frowning furiously. She realized the principal had left; they were alone again for the first time in hours.
"Would you open your eyes wider?" he asked.
She found she couldn't do that and stay frowning. She tried to find a middle ground.
He peered closely at her, then nodded. "Well good, you don't look concussed."
"Daddy!" she said, furious.
"I had to check," he said, and the smile on his face left her unsure how serious he'd ever been.
That just left her more furious than ever. "I meant what I said," she huffed, looking straight again. "I wish I hadn't done it. I wish I'd just… stayed where I was."
"I think you'll find," he said, "that it's nice to be a hero for a minute. Most people never get that feeling even for a minute."
She snorted. "Most people don't deserve it because most people aren't heroes. I'm not, that's for sure."
His eyebrows raised. "Really? That's not what I heard…"
"What you heard is bullshit!" she exploded.
For a moment, she thought she'd finally done it. She'd broken her daddy. Whatever Bruce had expected, it wasn't that. He blinked. Then he looked at her tray for a moment. After taking a moment to survey it, he grabbed her empty water cup and held it out in her direction.
It took her a moment to realize what he was implying. "No," she said.
"Pay up," he insisted, shaking the impromptu swear jar.
"My pockets are empty," she mumbled. "They took everything out of them earlier."
He put the cup back on the tray. "I'll put it on your tab," he said.
"You don't get it," she said.
"Help me get it."
"You can't understand."
"Really?" he said with an arched eyebrow. "Or do you not know how to explain it?"
"So this is my fault!"
"I didn't say that," he backpedaled.
"Yes you did!"
"You have nothing to feel guilty about," he said, trying to be soothing.
"Yes I do!" she shouted. "I totally do! And you've been making it worse all day long! Showing me off like a zoo animal. Ooh, everyone look at the hero teenager, did you know it's my daughter? And I've been laying here all day long trying not to puke and my head splitting open!"
He took a slow breath. "I can explain…"
"You don't have to, I get it. Just like the principal—he doesn't care about me, he's just happy he's got a hero at his school to help his school look good. He doesn't know what actually happened. None of them do. You don't."
"Then tell me."
"I can't," she muttered.
"If you can't tell me," he said, "who can you tell?"
She had no response to that. She decided to be angry instead.
"Pumpkin…"
"Stop calling me that!" she shrieked.
He didn't wince. She'd wanted him to, but he didn't. "Vikki. Something's bothering you, and it's no headache, and it's no nausea. You're unhappy about this. If you keep it inside you, it's a poison pill that'll just make you feel worse and worse. Let it out."
She looked away from him once more. She didn't want to see his face. She didn't want it to work on her. Her head throbbed angrily.
But he didn't look away, and as much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. It was a stupid point, but it was a point. She had to prove to him how he didn't understand. She had to prove to him how wrong he'd been.
"Daddy," she said, quietly, "how much do I weigh?"
He chuckled. "Well, you know I'd never ask a lady her weight."
"How much does Maverick Hunter X weigh?"
His face tightened slightly. "Uh…"
"With a full combat loadout and heavy armor?"
"…A lot, I bet," he said.
"Yeah, you could say that. So how could I ever knock him out of the way of anything?"
Bruce blinked. "Are you saying…"
"I'm saying I didn't do anything!" she exploded. "I saw the Maverick pointing in X's direction. I yelled 'look out' and jumped out to push him out of the way. But it didn't work. I ran smack into X's robot body. I wasn't knocked out by any explosion. I concussed my own damn self."
Bruce raised the cup again. Vikki smacked it out of his hand.
"So I didn't save him," she went on acidly. "I didn't do anything. I hurt myself, and I nearly forced a First Law violation on him… and it was pointless! I was just being stupid! I'm not a hero, I'm a moron!
"And you, and my classmates, and my principal, and the media, and you… they all think I'm some big thing, when I'm not! And nobody will believe me! I'm an imposter, and I don't even want to be! This is all your fault! And you're living it up—you're on their side!"
He waited a long time to respond. It was long enough for her to stop being angry from sheer momentum, and start being angry at his hesitance. "Well?" she demanded.
"Did you know they did a head x-ray on you when you came in?" he asked quietly.
She frowned, uncomfortable. "No."
"It was a tense time," he went on. "Waiting for the results. We had to make sure there was no spalling or fractures."
Vikki twisted her hands together. "So you knew the story didn't add up?" she said.
"Of course I knew," he said.
"So why did you play along?" she said. "Why did you let everyone go on like this?"
Bruce took a long, deep breath. Then he reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper, carefully and crisply folded. He extended his hand. "Here," he said.
She sniffed at it. "What is it?"
"A letter," he said wryly. "Some people still write them. It arrived while you were still out. Read it."
She scowled with suspicion. She felt like this was a trick she didn't see yet. Eying her father warily, Vikki grasped the paper, unfolded it, and began to read.
I'm bad at writing these. I shouldn't be, not after having so much practice. I am, though. I get self-conscious and I over-complicate things. It's just my nature. I apologize in advance.
So… thank you.
I know that might seem odd. You and I both know you didn't actually push me out of the way, whatever others say. I will tell you that you drew my attention in the right direction. You helped me see the danger, and protect others. Thanks to you, I was able to shoot down the rocket that was fired before it hit anyone (that was the explosion everyone thought affected you). What you did mattered.
It mattered in another way, too. Maybe this only matters to me, though it shouldn't. I hope it matters to you.
I have the Three Laws of Robotics programmed into my brain. "First: a robot shall not harm a human being or, by inaction, allow a human being to come to harm." If our positions had been reversed—if I had been in hiding, and you standing into danger—I would have had to intervene. I would have been compelled to act. It would have made sense, too, since I'm well-armored and combat capable.
You're not. You don't have the Three Laws. You didn't have to. But you did.
How wonderful.
I hope you're able to see how wonderful this is. It's rare. Believe me, it is. It's easy to do nothing. It's hard to do something. It's not that people don't have the ability to change things. Most people do. What's lacking is will. Even when things are simple, the simplest things are very hard.
On some level, other people know this, too. They appreciate it. That's why they're making such a fuss over you. That's why they've made such a big fuss over me, in the past. It's made me feel like an imposter in my own life. I want to ask, "Who is this hero you're talking about? Because I know it's not me!" But some people need to see others doing good before they realize they can, too. Some people need heroes. Even if I don't think I am one-and I know better than anyone how many times I've failed-someone else does, and that has meaning. It has value. It may sound odd, but I promise that the same is true for you.
And if we have to let people abuse the truth a little bit so that they can have their heroes, well, maybe that's a small price to pay for the good it does.
Look at that, I've gone and done it again. This was supposed to be short and simple. I've already failed at that, as usual, but I'll give it one more try, see if I can wrap it up like it was supposed to be.
Thanks for reminding me why I fight.
Sincerely,
X Light
The letter began to get blurry. What kind of paper did that? It was only when there was a small patter of sound against the paper that Vikki realized she was crying. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
"Was it good?" Bruce asked, and Vikki could hear emotion creeping into his voice, too, even through the roiling of her own feelings.
"Yeah," said Vikki hoarsely. "Yeah. It's good."
"I'm glad," said Bruce, and through her teary eyes she could see him swallowing nervously. "I... held on to that, in case your classmates didn't work."
She would've frowned if she'd had room in her emotions for suspicion. "Didn't work?"
He took a deep, trembling breath. "In convincing you that you'd done the right thing," he said.
"What?"
He shuddered. "I could've handled seeing you like that- knowing you'd been hurt- if you believed you'd done the right thing. Only then."
Even with her eyes full of tears, Vikki saw her father clearly. He looked so... vulnerable.
"I j-just want you to know... I think you did the right thing. I was... proud, and scared... my Victoria, you did so good, and that made it… bearable. And I thought, well, if she... if she knows she was right, if she thought it was worth it... well, what is my pain next to that? I can… can..."
"Oh, daddy!" she cried, and embraced him, and they both cried and cried and cried.
"You're my hero," she managed at one point, and that just made him cry harder.
Eventually the nurse came by to chase him out because they were causing so much ruckus, but she changed her mind and left them to it.
The interview ran in the school newspaper two days later. A picture ran with it. The caption (which was, for better and worse, in a school newspaper) read as follows:
Victoria Child, a sophomore in the class of 21XX is seen here recoverng in the hospital. Victoria sustained a concusion from an explotion when she pushed world-famous Maverick Hunter X, out of the line of fire, during a Maverick attack on Tuesday. For her bravery, she is to be given an award friday at an awards ceremony, that will following the usual pep rally. Be there to get pumped up for the upcoming game against the Upton Wildcats!
X smiled.
End
