"Hey, I'm sorry…" Rock said quietly, for once in his life actually acting remorseful. The taxi ride to the airport was silent. Kenichi stared idly out the window at the city rushing by. He squeezed the piece of metal in his hand and said nothing. "I know this is all hard for you… But they wouldn't hurt your mom and sister. They'll be alright, we'll find them."

"I know we will. It's not that…"

"Believe me, I didn't want to bring up bad memories" Rock continued, softly.

Kenichi turned from the window, smiling a bit. "None of the memories I have of Tima are bad ones. I only wish I could've saved her…"

"Now that my father is dead, I suppose I don't have a reason to hate her." Rock chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "I thought she was replacing me I guess… Damn I was a stupid kid…"

The night had eventually become rainy as the two men reached the airport. Rock hurriedly purchased tickets and they boarded the next plane in less than two hours. When the plane touched down, Rock swiveled his head from the window and the glow of the city lights. Kenichi was asleep; his head leaning back while his eyes moved under his eye lids rapidly. He was dreaming. Rock sighed and nudged him roughly.

"Wake up. We're here." Kenichi jolted awake, sitting up straighter and looking to Rock with a bit of annoyance. "Come on, we've landed." Rock undid his seat belt, standing up and stretching. He cracked his neck. "Ugh, that ride felt like forever…"

Kenichi got up as well to stretch and then shuffled down the aisle past the rows of mostly empty seats. Rock followed close behind him. They went through the airport that was teeming with people even at such an hour. But then, it was an airport. Kenichi felt a dull grumble in his stomach.

"Can we eat something?"

"Not now" Rock growled. It was raining in Metropolis too as they headed out. Kenichi was not only hungry, but tired. Somehow, being in this city again had little effect on him. He didn't react the way he'd expected to. He didn't have a nervous breakdown, he didn't lose his mind.

As they left the terminal, Rock turned to face him. "You got money?"

"A bit" Kenichi responded.

"Enough for a hotel room?"

"A cheap one"

"One of those motels then, the ones where they dump dead bodies under the beds." Rock grinned and chuckled, the light reflecting off his sunglasses. Kenichi wondered if Rock wore those glasses to hide himself.

They got to a motel, paid for a room and went down the hall. Kenichi stared at the key in his hand then stopped at the door marked 34. He put the key in the hole and turned. The door squeaked open to reveal a room painted an ugly yellow. There was one queen-sized bed, a dresser, a lamp, and a small TV. Kenichi stepped inside.

"Quaint little place, isn't it?" Rock said, resting his hands on his hips and surveying the room. "Wonder if the bed feels as shitty as it looks?" He went over to it, pushing down on the mattress with his hands. The bed squeaked.

"Rock," Kenichi suddenly looked at him, worried. "I don't have anything. No clothes, no toothbrush, no razor, not anything!"

"You have your health" Rock offered, smirking.

"You're a riot, really"

"I try…" The man wearing the sunglasses took one last look around the room then turned and headed for the door. "Well, goodnight I guess. I'll be back bright and early."

"Wha? Where are you going?" Kenichi asked.

"Heh. I'm not sleeping in here with you. I ain't a homo." He chuckled again and left. Kenichi muttered to himself. He was tired, hungry and most important, lonely. He thought of his mother and sister. Were they alright? But he didn't want to lay awake. He had to think with a clear mind. Right now, everything was clouded in his head. The boy shed his clothes, flicked off the lamp and slumped into the bed. The mattress creaked, as if protesting then one side of it went down.

Rock headed to his own apartment, conveniently located across the street from Kenichi's hotel. He tossed his keys and jacket onto the couch and flopped down on the leather with a long sigh. He could use a smoke right about now. The man took off his sunglasses and set them aside. At least he had more than enough money to live on. He still wasn't used to the comfortable lifestyle he could now afford. Duke Red, surprisingly, had left a lot of money to his one and only 'son'.

With another sigh, Rock's head sunk back and rested against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before hearing a shuffling noise coming from elsewhere in the apartment. "Hey, be quiet would ya? I have a headache" he called. The shuffling stopped.

He didn't hear anything and yet someone came up behind him, slowly. Rock felt a pressure on his shoulder and jumped, whirling around to face the person behind him.

"What the hell!"

"I am sorry. You should use Tylenol for your pains."

Rock relaxed but continued to glare. "I don't need any fucking Tylenol." He turned away from them. "Now leave me alone. Go… read or something."

"That's what I meant to tell you, I have read every book in your house including the magazines in that box under your bed."

Rock scrambled up now, glaring worse than ever. "You read those! I told you, anything under my bed, you keep your damn hands off of!"

The robot didn't register his anger. Human emotions were not part of her function. She turned her head to one side, blinking with a mechanical sound. A pale young woman with blonde hair and green eyes. She was clad in a pair of loose fitting flannel pajamas. To anyone, she looked like a normal sixteen year old girl. But inside, she was a machine, disguised, yes, but still a machine. Rock was looking to change that.

The girl lowered her eyes. Child-like eyes, large and wondering. Odd on a girl her age. It gave her a sort of innocent look. Rock's anger faded a bit and he ran a hand through his hair. "Tell me."

"Yes?" she asked.

"I have Kenichi here. Do you know him?"

The robot hesitated then shook her head slowly. "No, I do not."

"Keh. It's terrible; you'd forget your own loved one. He hasn't forgotten you."

"I have not met him" she responded in the same monotone. "I do not love. I am a robot, not human, only designed to look human. My purpose is to serve my creators, protect them and…"

"And live among them without complaint" Rock finished for her. "I know, and frankly, you need to learn something new."

"Like what?"

"Aw, go away." Rock flicked his wrist at her, gesturing for her to go elsewhere. "I'm tired, I need to sleep. You wouldn't know anything about that though, would you?" He slumped down again, trying to relax long enough to fall asleep. She padded around the couch and stood in front of him.

"This Ken-i-chi" she said slowly. "He has what I need, doesn't he?"

"He does indeed. I'm kinda surprised he kept that piece of crap tin but whatever. He won't part with it though, at least not without a reasonable explanation as to why he should." Rock yawned, closing his eyes. "If you want to make me happy, you'll go make yourself scarce for a few hours while I sleep."

"Understood." She turned and left him. Rock sighed, getting comfortable. What would Kenichi do if he knew his beloved was among the living? At least, her image was. Her heart and soul remained with him. Those worker robots had shown odd behavior in the aftermath of the Revolution. Rock had noticed, lying in his hospital bed day by day, that he kept hearing news of the robots gathering pieces of their fallen android comrade. At the time, the boy could only feel bitterness towards the robot girl but in the months it took him to fully recover from his wounds, Rock's curiosity had gotten the better of him…

Ambling among the debris of the city, the gun-toting boy moved along with stealth and agility. He crawled along a slab of concrete, over to the edge and peered down into the fissure among the crumbled buildings. The sky overhead was dark and clear. Most of the electricity was still out in Metropolis and because of that, the stars could be seen perfectly. Rock was using the darkness as his cover and a small, battery powered lantern as his only source of light.

Lying on his belly, he held the lantern over the fissure and could clearly make out the shapes of the worker robots as they worked tirelessly to retrieve pieces. Rock peered closer, having to lean down a bit to do so. It was quite a drop from the slab into the hole and he didn't want to risk injury by leaning over to far, should he happen to fall. He could see the shadowy shape of a metallic skeleton being pieced together like a puzzle. The puppet was being rebuilt. He couldn't let it happen.

Changing position, Rock shut one eye and took aim, like a sniper at one of the robots. He fired his gun and the shell flew out and clanked against the ground. It was a perfect, clean shot through the robot's head. It shook violently, sparks shooting from its body then slumped to the ground. Rock smirked, reloading and firing at another robot that too went down without a fuss.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel" Rock said aloud to himself. He fired twice more, "killing" two other robots. There were still several more but by now they had noticed the commotion and had begun to scatter. Rock swung his legs over the edge of the slab he has been occupying and leapt off, falling for a few seconds before he landed on the ground below. The gravel crunched under his shoes and he grunted, standing up straight again. He'd been in rough condition the past few months, it was a wonder he didn't break his leg from the landing.

Approaching the skeleton, Rock stood and held his lantern over it to get a better look. It was her, alright. The robots had done a pretty good job, thus far, but her body was far from being completely rebuilt. He growled, kicking the mangled body. It slid easily a few inches across the ground, being light but very strong. Stronger than a real skeleton anyways. Most of Tima's weight was made up of her wiring and outer layers. The skeleton was hardly anything.

"If they don't have the skeleton, they'll never complete you" Rock said in a mockingly sad voice, kneeling down to the skeleton's level, as if it could hear him. He stood up again, raising his boot over the head, preparing to bring it down on the skull and shatter it. He never got the chance.

"You there!" A beam of light passed over Rock's form and he turned, confused to see someone standing at the top of the fissure. Just the shadow of someone, but it was a full-grown man with a flashlight. "What are you doing down there? You're not authorized to be here!"

Slightly panicking, Rock scooped the skeleton up in his arms and ran. The light followed him until he vanished into a dark crevice. "Get back here! Stop! STOP!" the man shouted. But it was no use, Rock was already moving along through the rubble. He turned off his lantern and abandoned it then kept moving, still holding the skeleton in his hands. He eventually crouched in a hole, hiding. He heard shouts and footsteps of several men all around the area but they'd never find him.

Still, why would they go to such ridiculous lengths to keep him away? Surely they didn't suspect him of looting. The city had been looted, turned upside down and inside out, everything of value was long gone. Did it have to do with the robot skeleton he held in his arms? Why would anyone take an interest in rebuilding the one thing that had destroyed the city in the first place? Though, if someone did want her rebuilt, it would've explained why the worker robots had done it without reason. Perhaps someone had ordered them to.

"Ugh, whatever" Rock mumbled. He couldn't leave his hiding place now. He remained there, unable to relax until morning when the voices and the sounds had faded away. Everything ached and protested when he moved, crawling out of the hole. The grey early morning sky greeted him. He grunted, pulling the skeleton out with him and standing up, holding it. In a hurry, he ran from the area and returned only once again in another night to retrieve the other pieces of her.

Though he wasn't a genius mechanic, he eventually rebuilt Tima with a few changes to make her look older. Only when he'd finally sat back and taken a look at the completed robot had he realized how ridiculous he was being. Why had he gone to all this trouble, working tirelessly to rebuild this little puppet? The answer didn't come to him. It was almost like, dare he think it, he was under a spell.