A/N- Little early to be posting the next part, but I'm coming up to the weekend, when I work 14+ hrs a day, so it was either now or monday. I had to shorten the part up a bit, because I didn't have time to edit up the last bit. It will be at the beginning of the next part, however. Besides, it looks better there, anyway. @_@;; anyway, enjoy and stuff. sorry it sucks.. u.u *revels in the fact that she's making people waste valuable seconds of their lives reading this terrible crap.* There WILL be a good fighting scene w/ Rock and Forte eventually, but not for a bit. What you get in this chapter, is a skeezy wanna-be semi fight. my apologies. lol.

Predator Turned Prey

"Gotcha!"

Forte towered over Rock, neo-buster aimed right at his prey's face. This was it! He dug his heels into the ground, bracing for the force of his charged weapon, and fired. Rock jumped up quickly, flipping mid-air and landing behind Forte lightly, however, and all his shot did was destroy the damned overgrown plant he had been hiding under.

Forte roared in anger, and spun around quickly.

Then suddenly... the sound of a buster.

..........

A buster?

Not his.

.........

Forte stared blankly at Rock, whose face was twisted in horror. His mouth was wide open, he was still practically shrieking. He continued to stare at Rock, confused. He didn't feel right. Something was wrong. There was something seriously wrong with the situation. Slowly his gaze drifted down to Rock's arm, and the apparent reason for Rock's mad howling became known. He had tried to switch his hand into his buster, which had only sunk in half way. His hand was now a bloody, mutilated mess. He must have shot it.

But that doesn't explain this feeling.

Then he noticed the excess blood, spattered across Rock's face, chest and arms. It was impossible for so much to have come from his hand. Rock had shot something else. Rock had shot.... him. Then his shrieking became more clear, more haunting, and he made out words.

"Why did you turn around so fast?!" Rock screamed, tears marring his boyish face.

Slowly, as if under water, Forte tilted his head downward, and saw what was probably the other reason Rock was so hysterical. A huge section of Forte's chest had been practically blown apart from the blast. He was damaged there beyond belief.

"I was only aiming for your weapon!! You spun right into it!!! "
Then the pain hit him, like a wave, intensifying as the seconds went by. "You... shot.... me?" he uttered, coughing up blood.

Rock continued to cry and yell, but Forte couldn't make sense of it, his world beginning to fade into darkness.

"..... I'll kill you..." Without so much as another word, his body collapsed on him, and he fell into a crumpled heap.

"FORTE!!!"

>>>>>

Rock stared down in horror at the mass that was Forte. Around him, spreading rapidly, was a pool of red, black oil swimming through it in small traces here and there.

'What... What have I done?' He had only meant to disarm Forte, not kill him. Leaning back against the safety of the bush he had been hiding behind, cradling his destroyed hand, he began to sob brokenly, regretting instantly the new chip that had been put in him. What was he supposed to do now? Who knew how long it would take someone to find them? Rock would be fine, his body already working toward healing that smoldering bleeding mess that had once been his hand, but he was still no closer to home. Until then, he was left alone and helpless in some nameless forest, with the lifeless Forte at his feet.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. He stared down at Forte. 'He looks completely destroyed, but...' He reached out slowly toward his fallen foe, hope rising high within him. With a gentle shove, he rolled him over onto his back. "Please don't be dead... Forte, I-" He stopped dead, face paling slightly upon the sight which met him.

Forte lay prone in front of Rock, eyes shut tightly in pain, teeth gnashed together. Rock almost jumped back in shock. Not only was Forte alive, he was still conscious! Rock stared down at him silently, face marked with pity. The pain Forte was in must be unbearable.

"Forte.. Forte!" Rock yelled, shaking him slightly. No response. 'I guess he's in shock..' He thought, then began to rummage quickly through Forte's possessions, looking for something he could use to do some makeshift repairs on him quickly. "Hang on, Forte. I'll take care of you."

>>>>>

Forte lay there, as still as he could manage, to avoid straining his already wounded body. He had heard Rock calling him, but had simply ignored him. 'Please let me die..' he thought to himself. 'I won't be able to bear it.. Defeated this way, then having to live afterward.' He panted softly, chest seizing with each breath. The pain was almost too much to stand, yet he said nothing, refusing to so much as cry out.

He hoped silently that his blood, and other synthetic vital fluids would drain out of him, and he would shut down and die. He hoped for a lot of things. That he had no soul, because he knew wherever it went after he died, it wasn't going to be anywhere nice, after all he had been made to do. He almost smirked, as a thought border lining on apostasy filled his mind. That Rockman would defeat Wily. 'I'm far more powerful and cunning than that fool, Wily. Why should he be the one to defeat Rockman? He doesn't deserve it...'

A horror filled thought stuck him. Gospel. His faithful companion. His other half. What was going to happen to him? "G.. Gos.." He gasped out, then gave up, simply praying that someone would care of him, take him under his wing.

As his thoughts deepened, so did that deliciously warm feeling that slowly pervaded through his exhausted mind, tempting him to give in to it. At first, he fought it, struggling to overcome it, to keep his senses sharp, but eventually, as the minutes wore on, he began to give in, everything fading in a mix of sound and colour, and finally his mind drowned in the waves of exhaustion that had swept in, carrying him away with them.

>>>>>

"Nope... Not this... Found it!" Rock exclaimed, pulling a flat, small, basic repair kit out of a hidden crevice in Forte's armor, stuck to the inside of the plate. He'd figured Wily wouldn't leave him dependent on his auto-repair alone. "Okay, Forte, I'm going to..... " He stared down at Forte.

Forte lay still, expression vacant, face pale and almost porcelain. At first glance, one might think he had shut down, but he was still breathing through his armor. "The pain must have been too much." He was almost glad Forte was out. This wouldn't have been too pleasant for him. He wiped some of the blood that had been trailing out the sides of his mouth away, then set to work preparing Forte for the "surgery".

As quickly and gently as he could, Rock removed Forte's chest plate, followed by his guard, then his boots, and gauntlets, the one holding his neo-buster within first. Rock was more trusting of people than he probably should be, but he wasn't stupid. Even after repairing him, Forte was likely to rip him limb from limb if given the opportunity.

He sighed loudly at how long it was taking him to do everything, with the condition of his hand. He decided that as soon as he was through with the more dangerous wounds requiring immediate repair, he would do what he could for his hand next, before continuing. It would make it easier for him to work on Forte that way. Gently, he unzipped Forte's skintight body suit, pulling it off him carefully, then removed his helmet for comfort.

He stared open-mouthed at him in shock. He had never seen Forte in the 'flesh' before, and was taken aback slightly. Forte was quite a work of art, he had to admit. His body was tight, yet fit to a smaller frame than what his armor deceived. He was tall, yet graceful, with an unexplainable elegance. Pale skin sculpted every aspect of his build, so perfect he was almost doll-like. His face had a dark seriousness to it. Long purple streaks trailing from under his eyes meeting up under his chin only deepened his mature, serious look, and caused him to look almost menacing.

Yet, at the moment, there was a trace of helplessness to him, the way he lay sprawled so carelessly, face lax... and so pale... Snapping back to attention, Rock hurried to take care of Forte's wounds.

"Please let me do this right.. please, please.." He had some skill with circuitry of this sort, but hardly enough to deal with something this serious. However, what choice did he have?

"You should be glad you're unconscious...." He sighed, then got down to business, trying to work his way through circuitry, wires, synthetic veins and other body parts leaking blood.

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