allo~ yes, its sick...but i'm writing ANOTHER fic. god, pace yerself linds D8 myeh. its been a story thats haunted me for a while =w=;; so, i thought i'd write it down and see what happens.

warning: spoilers, angst, language, fluff, ooc, probably shounen ai.
inspiration: "tale as old as time" from beauty and the beast.
rating: T for now, may rise.
pairing: multiple, but for now, yamato/ultimo?
summary: "Just a little change, small to say the least. Bitter sweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong..." How did Ultimo become Yamato's Douji? It wasnt as smooth as it may seem now, the way was rough and its still being told.
disclaimer: not mine, never will be.

onward! hopefully, you'll like it. and um, if theres any weird typos, plz tell me so i can fix them? (my spellcheck isnt the best...and it likes to add bs sometimes)

00000

"In the end, it'll be you who reaches the top."

Uru blinked, frowning a little. Turning from his task of setting up camp, the redhead debated this. "What do you mean Yamato-sama?"

The teenager leaned against a tree, a thick bandage running over his chest. He was looking up at the sky, his eyes thoughtful. For a moment, Ultimo debated prodding the teen. But something about the way the brunette was staring at the sky told him to wait patiently.

"In the end, its just you and your mission, right? It wont matter what I do, no one will remember. It'll be you. Just you." he said, as if the words just came to him and the idea couldn't be pinned.

Somehow, the memory remained in the douji's mind. In all of his many years, he hadn't ever heard his master say such things. In a way, it terrified him, and in a way, it filled him with pride. He couldn't explain it.

000

The dark clearing came into view slowly, the grainy green of night vision kicking in. The light of a nearby fire prevented the function from fully kicking in, and after a few seconds, the screeching pain of something broken stopped it. The redhead just stared up at the sky, not yet understanding pain, and felt the urge to do...something.

Air heavy with fog, the night was dark and few stars made their way through the cloud cover. Ultimo blinked slowly, eyes glazing with unshed tears and chest searing. His memory was failing him, and he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there.

A voice startled him from his thoughts. "Oh, you're awake. Good, feel okay?"

With some difficulty, a spark rippling over his neck, Ultimo turned his head. He couldn't seem to make his jaw move.

Next to the fire sat a man with long bushy hair, with narrow eyes and a large build. One leg was drawn up to rest against his chest, an arm casually thrown over it. Vaguely, a fuzzy image of a man holding a sword and threatening someone came to mind. Ultimo felt he should know who these people were but...

"Hey! Did you hear me?" the man snapped, annoyance drawing his bushy brows together.

The redhead blinked and opened his mouth. "Y-Yes. -Are you...?"

The black haired man frowned deeper. "What?"

"-ho are -u?" Ultimo began to get irritated. His voice box must be broken...

After a moment, the man seemed to translate the broken sounds the robot made. A slightly disturbed expression flitted across his face, as humans didn't make those sounds, or static like that. Ultimo forgot what time period this was for a moment.

"Yamato..." he mumbled. "That's my name, and that's all there is of it. And you're...Ultimo, right?" he smiled a little at the vague nod he received. "Still broken then, huh?"

A slight glare was all he got. "Right...broken." Yamato said. "I um...sorry, but I dunno how to fix you. No one does. We wrapped up your wound, but its all...cords in there. What ARE you?...Wait, you can't talk, huh?"

Ultimo rolled his eyes at the uneasy babbling. Humans were strange, and he hadn't ever spoken to one personally. Were they all this way? As strange as it was, and as in pain as he was, the douji couldn't help but find it interesting. He tested his ability to lift his arm, and blinked when he felt a rough material against the flesh of his arm.

Yamato laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "The others did that. You scared the fuck outa them, y'know? None of us knew what'd happen if you could move."

Rope? They'ed tied him up with ROPE? Of all the things...Easily, he could snap the fibers, though it'd cause more damage than needed right now. Ultimo understood the sentiment, and decided against any brash decisions. It was obvious they didn't trust him, and he wasn't in the right shape to take on the controversy of breaking the binding.

Focusing his meager energy supplies on fixing his voice box, the redhead sighed quietly. If he could talk, he could somehow coerce someone into making the vow with him. Not that he wanted just anyone, but one step at a time, right?

Yamato left him alone, knowing the other couldn't talk, and a little afraid of bothering him. Sure, he wasn't terrified, but he just didn't feel safe enough to provoke something who could kill him and everyone else with only minimal effort. Vice had been a good enough lesson.

Ultimo was silent as he felt the wires and the wood and metal of his body slowly stitch together. His memory was hazy, but along with his voice box, his memory came back in bits and pieces. He remembered Yamato shouting, though the words weren't understandable. Vice had been all that truly mattered at that moment. A dull sting of longing struck the redhead, though it was temporary.

An hour, maybe two, went by before Ultimo could speak again. His cracked, and static filled voice startled Yamato when he heard it. "-ank you 'or th' help-p."

Swallowing thickly, the brunette nodded. "Er, yeah. You're welcome. Is there any way we could fix you up better?"

The redheaded robot blinked slowly, his eyes flashing dimly as he pulled up a basic schematic of himself. Judging by the sharp sparks of electricity, and the oozing of oil, he figured he must have suffered heavy damage to his chest and , Ultimo realized little to nothing could fix this. Except for one thing...

"A m'ster." he answered.

Frowning, the brunette pieced the word together. "A master?"

Ultimo nodded. "A m'ster. If I 'ad one...-could 'ix 'yself."

Yamato nodded slowly. "Where do you get em?"

An indistinguishable look flitted through his eyes. "'afta make th' V-Vow." he said solemnly.

"Vow?" the brunette repeated. "How do you do that? Can I do it? Will it help??"

Ultimo's eyes turned hard and a glare marred his already cracked face. "No."

Yamato frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "No? Why not?"

"'ont w'nt 'ou."

Yamato stared, eyes slowly widening. "What IS the vow?"

"Th' Vow is 'er I g't my pow'r." the robot explained.

"That doesn't explain much..." the man muttered, scratching his cheek.

Ultimo didn't feel the need to explain any further. Yamato wasn't going to be his master after all. Somewhere in his fragmented thoughts, Ultimo had the ideal image of a man who was just and obeyed laws. He was a man who people respected. Not a bandit who stole lives and goods. Ultimo knew what he wanted. He closed his eyes, focusing his limited energy supply on repairing immediate problems.

With the silence, the brunette found he was more than a little annoyed. He didn't want him? He didn't even explain anything! Turning his attention to the fire, Yamato snorted. If Ultimo didn't think he was good enough, then who was he to try and force him to think otherwise? He sighed heavily, and glanced at the seemingly sleeping robot.

Today was too strange. It should have been an easy robbery, a quick sell off and loads of money. Instead, the old man had summoned two demonic children it seemed. One had quickly killed off many of his close friends, and had then transformed into a metal monster that was dozens of stories high. The group of bandits had been sure death would claim them all.

But then Ultimo had stepped in. And in seconds, the giant metal monstrosity had been shattered. It just hadn't seemed real at all. Even when the red robot had been smashed into the ground, impaled and gushing a strange black substance, Yamato hadn't thought it was real. It had to be a dream, he had thought, and quickly rushed over and used his chipped sword to free the redhead.

It was a miracle that Ultimo had stood back up, bib tattered and pants soaked in oil. But Yamato had been so relieved to see him quickly slice Vice to pieces. Or, attempt to. The green robot had fled, missing his arms and sporting large holes in his chest and stomach. Ultimo had then collapsed, and the small group of bandits had loudly debated on what to do.

"The other one killed our friends!!!"

"We should kill him to!!! He might get up and do the same!!"

"He aint human boss, we gotta off him!!!"

Yamato, empty from the fear and near death experience, had said nothing as they tied the redhead up. They had proceeded to draw weapons, and it was then that Yamato decided enough was enough. There had been too many deaths today, he shouted, livid with fury.

No one said a word against him, but the ropes wouldn't be coming off. Not that their leader fought this. He himself was still shaken by the sights of his maimed friends. He didn't want to see it happen ever again. Instead of a robbery and a boat load of money, and food and new clothing and dozens of things they had been waiting for, all that they received were casualties.

Today was not a good day. No, today was a day Yamato never wanted to repeat. It left him hollow, rage and fear long since passed. Exhausted and blank, the brunette watched the fire and wondered what to do now. Things were going to change now, he thought. They couldn't NOT.

Although he wasn't the most religious person, he offered a small prayer to the fire. In his minds eye, he recalled the grotesque murders, and the faces of men he once knew. Ultimo listened quietly as the man muttered, letting his sorrow wash over himself.

000000

=w=;; done for now.

translations:

"yes, who are you?"

"thank you for the help."

"a master" "a master. if i had one, i could fix myself"

"i have to make the vow."

"no." "i dont want you."

"the vow is how i get my power."

crappy but whatev~