Rock was aware of being carried. He tried to speak, but he couldn't for a while. When he could, his voice was soft. "For- Master Forte," he corrected. "I'm sorry…"
Forte placed him on a bed. "Shh," he told Rock, and the voice traveled across the room. "I was stupid. I shouldn't have left you alone for so long."
Rock didn't open his eyes. "He was going to rape me, wasn't he?" Rock asked, thinking about it. It had been fairly obvious.
"Yes." Forte's answer did not bring any comfort whatsoever. "He's been taken care of."
"Would you?" Rock asked, not caring about the second answer. He needed to know. "You've already taken me as a trophy…"
Forte opened the cream bottle, took out some, and applied it to Rock's hands first. "That's all you are to me, Rock. You aren't my type. You are my trophy. That's it." Rock started crying from both the pain at the treatment and the answer. It was cold and harsh.
Forte resisted the urge to hit him. "My guess is that water tank is almost empty."
Rock said nothing more, and tried to cease crying. He waited for Forte to finish his statements. The younger Biroid didn't finish, though. He sighed and turned Rock over like a doll. "You really don't want to fight, do you?" he asked, messaging the cream into Rock's shoulders. Rock didn't respond. "Fine. Any music you like? Or books? I don't want you to die of boredom." Rock didn't mutter anything. Forte rolled his eyes.
"Well, I like Andrews's books," he stated, continuing. He grinned when Rock muttered an "Andrews?" from under the pillow.
"A writer and Poet. Audrey Andrews." Forte started applying bandages. "Let's see… A rose. Lovely, but ever wounding helping hands."
"That doesn't really relate here," Rock muttered coldly as Forte turned him over again.
Forte looked straight into his eyes. "Seems she could have helped you." He shrugged. "Go ahead and stay there for today. There isn't any more Metal Man. No Wily, either."
He needn't have bothered, because that much conversation and focus along with the damage had lulled Rock to sleep.
"He is mine," Forte said, taking off his own shirt, revealing scars and fresh cuts. "I can take care of him." He stepped into the bathroom, taking the knife with him. He placed the cream on his shoulders, and held the blade up into the light, marveling at its beauty.
"I can do this."
Metal was after him, Rock dreamed. There was no escape, and suddenly, there was no way to move. He was stuck, and Metal was with him and it didn't seem so bad and then there was stuff that he wouldn't ever want to remember and it hurt and he cried and then
He woke up. Gospel was laying on top of him, sleeping happily. His tail would wag now and then, and Rock knew Forte was running errands for Wily. Forte wasn't attacking humans, or Gospel would be out killing. He shuddered. He hated violence.
Since Gospel had him pinned, he thought back to the events of last night. He wondered what had happened to Magnet Man, and what would have happened if Metal man had continued. He didn't play the events in his mind.
"Damn," he muttered, wondering now on home. "Does Light even know I'm gone? Roll must not be worried, I've stayed out a week or two before…" A tear fell on his cheek, but he stopped. He didn't have too much more water to continue that.
It wasn't like he could use the sink or the bathtub to fill up the container. He had to have access to "chemicals" that were added to make the tears salty and not rust the robot from the inside. Forte would never allow him to get those chemicals.
"Damn it…" Rock was silenced as Gospel placed a paw over his mouth, quieting him. Rock wasn't in the mood to fight a wolf, so he resisted the urge to bite it.
"Good morning, Gospel," he muttered. Gospel growled.
A laugh entered the room. Rock struggled to see Forte, and wished he hadn't. Forte was staring at him, smiling evilly. "You've forgotten our deal, haven't you?"
Rock stared at Forte with round curious eyes.
"I hate those eyes, trophy. Get rid of them." Forte petted Gospel. "Gospel seems to like you, a lot."
Gospel grinned, wagging his tail. He howled happily. Rock was shaken. "How long…?"
"Two days." Forte shrugged. "Magnet Man has mysteriously disappeared, as well." He walked up to Rock, handing Rock a t-shirt and jeans. "You have forgotten our deal, haven't you?"
Rock shut his eyes. "I…yes." A chance to leave?"
"Something along the lines of 'or I'll have to capture you until you're ready to fight'." Forte picked up Gospel, who whined, placed him on the floor, and took Gospel's place. "When will you be ready?"
Rock couldn't stand the tension starting into Forte's red eyes. "Please get off of me." Forte's eyes flashed and he started playing with Rock's hair. Gospel whined and went under the bed.
Rock glared at Forte. "Get off of me!" he shouted, blushing. "Just get off! I'm not your sex toy!" As soon as he said it, bolts from the bands swept into them, wave after wave. He jerked and kicked. Nothing could ease the pain, but his instinct was to keep trying to find what would ease it anyway. All the while, Forte was on top of him, pulling at his hair. Rock didn't notice the pain from his head as he went into unconsciousness.
Forte sighed. "I'll never get to fight him at this rate," he said. Gospel nudged his legs, wondering what just went on. Forte gave a small grin. "I'm not gay. I just get these stupid ideas in my head. I can capture Rock!" Gospel seemed to nod in approval. "I just want to fight him. But he won't fight me back." Forte sighed and went to the bathroom. Gospel watched as the door was shut. His ears folded back as he heard arguing- one sided.