Chapter 6
Notes: Trigger warning in this chapter for discussions of child abuse.
Dr. Wily is frantically building a new robot, his melancholy turned mania at last. He's muttering in a mixture of German and English, making sense in neither. It's too soon to tell what the new robot will be—nothing but scattered parts and unpainted metal, a spine and the formations of a face. I cannot guess at this stage what it will become, or the damage it will leave in its wake.
Do something , Elec Man said. All you do is watch , Pharaoh Man noted. But even after Wily reaches his human limit and leaves to sleep, all I can do is stare at it, these makings of someone new. Outright sabotage will not be allowed by Wily's clumsy reprogramming. I could make little alterations, I suppose—take something vital, neglect to return it. But what right do I have to harm what has yet to be born? No Robot Master is merely a weapon. How can I assume otherwise before they even have a chance to be?
What if such actions only make things worse?
I cannot tell Elec Man I am a failure. I cannot admit to Pharaoh Man that I'm a coward. I leave Wily and his creation behind. I should not let my shadows guide me, but I've no will to resist them, pulled once again into a room I ought to avoid.
Blues lies listlessly on the bed. I cannot soothe his nightmares away when he is awake, reliving them by choice. I want to, an urge that's… difficult to ignore. But my appearance would bring no comfort. Too entangled with his past. No role in his future.
I slip deeper into my shadows, guilt pushing me toward leaving, but a knock on the door startles us both. Dr. Cossack opens it, hovering on the threshold. "May I come in?"
Blues pulls himself upright, shoulders high and tight, still rigid as he shifts to one side of the bed. Dr. Cossack takes that as an affirmative, gently sitting on the other end.
It's obvious why Blues fears Dr. Cossack. The man controls his future with ultimate say over what happens when the end of his patience is finally reached. Blues doesn't hide it, his grip tight on the edge of the bed.
"How do you feel?" Dr. Cossack asks, still gentle.
"Doesn't hurt anymore," Blues answers slowly. He's waiting to be yelled at, Cossack's relaxed posture throwing him off.
"Your eye wasn't the only thing I was asking about," Dr. Cossack replies.
"Why do you care?" It's sharp and hostile, the last defense of someone who has none other, but Cossack does not rise to the bait.
"Should I not care?" he asks.
"You should hate me," Blues spits, but a note of confusion slips into his tone.
"Ah, I see," Dr. Cossack replies, rubbing his chin. "Because of Kalinka. Do you want me to hate you?"
"I—" Blues stops himself, staring at Dr. Cossack suspiciously.
"I'm sure that would justify the hate you have for yourself," Dr. Cossack continues. "All that poison in your fights with Ivan. Do you think it would go unnoticed that they were never about him?"
Blues says nothing, his arms curled up around himself now, head turned away.
"I do not hate you, Blues," Dr. Cossack says gently. "I know it was an accident, and I also know nothing that was done to you will ever equate to the way you punish yourself. You do not deserve it, no matter how much you think you do."
Blues nods, but stays silent. I cannot tell if the weight of Dr. Cossack's words impacted him in any way, or if he's merely waiting for the man to leave so he can sink back into his own miseries.
Dr. Cossack seems to think the same, sighing. "Alexei tells me that you're not making much progress."
"He tells you—" Blues cuts himself off, twisting his head away.
"Not the details, but from what I gather, you don't offer too many of those." Dr. Cossack gives him a sidelong glance.
"Don't have any details to talk about," Blues says dully.
"I think you do, you just don't want to talk about them," Dr. Cossack says easily. "You know what you're feeling, but it confuses you. You're afraid of what others will think of it."
Blues flinches away. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mutters.
"Is that so?" Dr. Cossack frowns at him. "Can I tell you something?"
Blues gives him a wary look, but shrugs.
"My father was always a hard man. Very traditional, every bit the man a Cossack should be." The doctor leans back with a wan smile. "I was not, nor could I ever become so, no matter how I tried. It did not matter. My father thought he could beat it into me."
Blues stiffens. I mirror him in my shadows.
"Sometimes with his fists," Dr. Cossack continues, as if he doesn't notice. "Sometimes with his belt. Sometimes with whatever he had on hand. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. I didn't toughen up, I withdrew. I found my escape in academics, and—well, to be a scientist is a great thing in Russia. Perhaps that was the way to win my father's approval."
"Did it work?" Blues asks.
Dr. Cossack sighs. "It did not. My father treated my pursuit of robotics with suspicion, when not outright disdain. He thought it an outrage to replace men with machines, no matter how many lives that would save. He… died before I could graduate and prove him wrong. I did not go to his funeral."
Blues says nothing, but his hands tremble. He grips them tightly together to make them stop.
"I was… angry, for a long time," Dr. Cossack continued, watching Blues. "I was confused, and I was sad. I would have given anything to have his approval, even after everything. I would have delivered the world at his feet to hear, just once, that he was proud of me. But why did I want that so badly? Why did I care so much about a man who hurt me so greatly I could not even face his corpse one final time? I couldn't answer that, and I only got angrier, and more confused."
Dr. Cossack pauses again, his eyes flickering around the room. They pass over me, unseeing, yet I hold my breath all the same.
"And then Kalinka was born, and I realized I could never hit her. That no child should ever be treated the way my father treated me. All my anger, all my grief, was for a man who never existed." He looks at Blues closely. "Yet a part of me still yearns for the man my father never was."
Blues understands the story in a way I don't, making a cut-off choking sound. "I don't—" he tries. "I shouldn't want…"
Dr. Cossack puts a hand on Blues' shoulder, keeping it there even after the robot flinches. "Want what?"
"I want to go back to Skull Fortress," Blues whispers. "What's wrong with me?"
"Your feelings aren't wrong," Dr. Cossack says gently. "They merely are. You cannot control them or pretend they aren't real, but you can recognize that they don't control you. You are not crazy. You're not broken, or malfunctioning. You're homesick for a home you never had, and you're sad that a man who should have loved you chose to abuse you instead. You're hurting, Blues. It's okay to hurt."
Blues wipes at his good eye, trying to contain the tears that have already slipped through. Dr. Cossack makes no move to embrace him, instead rubbing his back in small, gentle circles.
"Does it stop?" Blues asks quietly.
"It's… different, for everyone," Dr. Cossack replies. "But it does get better. It would help if you talked to Alexei, but neither of us will force you. Though I would appreciate it if you stopped picking fights with my son."
Blues sniffs again, a strange response for a biology he does not have, his tears as artificial as the rest of him. Yet it seems to make him feel better. "I'm sorry, I… I shouldn't have said what I did to him," he says, hesitant. "He won't want to hear that, though."
"I'll pass it on regardless," Dr. Cossack says, removing his hand. "And I'll keep pretending I have no idea why you two were fighting."
Blues gives him a look. "You're not mad?"
"What would I be mad about?" Dr. Cossack asks, eyebrows arched.
"I—" Blues hesitates. "About Kalinka..."
Dr. Cossack snorts, startling Blues again. "My daughter violated multiple American and international laws just to break you out of jail, somehow convincing her brothers to help her while never breathing a word to me about it, knowing I would stop her. Can you imagine what she would do if I even implied she could not date who she wanted?"
Blues opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks for a moment. "I can't, actually."
"Neither can I, and that's what scares me," Dr. Cossack says darkly, standing up and moving to leave. "Speaking of Kalinka, she'll return soon. Do you want me to say anything to her?"
Don't tell her about my eye," Blues says quickly. "I don't… want her to feel guilty."
"Understood." Dr. Cossack pauses at the door, turning back. "You'll always be safe here. No matter what happens, I'll do everything in my power to guarantee that."
I linger in his absence. I linger as Kalinka comes, throwing her arms tight around Blues as he assures her that he's fine. I linger as they talk in low voices about nothing important, fancy stores and shopping trips. I linger as they fall asleep next to each other, holding hands.
Blues does not have his nightmares tonight.
I leave.
Author's Note: Heads up but the rumors are circling that ff dot net might be shutting down soon, so you can find my stuff over at A03 under the name AtreyuAuryn. You might want to consider moving or backing up your own fics, just in case!