Title: For Them

Author: Katreal

Type: POV

Sometimes…sometimes I don't know what to think about him. When we first met I never believed he would've survived his first mission. But survive he did. The next one, and the next one. The amateur hunter has become a commander, he has surpassed all of my own expectations. I would've never believed that he would still be functioning today. Or even guessed that I would care.

Back then, I was the one people would watch with awe. It was me they came to with the missions that no one else would take. He had just been a newbie then. A new recruit fresh out of the city. Of course he had a reputation proceeding him, but that didn't matter to me. 'Father of All Reploids'? Keh! All I had seen was a naïve little boy being thrust into a war. I had made a vow then, not to ever let him anywhere near a battle field. Innocence such as his was hard to come by during those times.

I was forced to break that vow. With all of our Hunters massacred I had no choice. I was reluctant to do it. It took all my willpower to restrain myself from sending him back to Dr. Cain. But I had been Commander then. I could not abandon the only hope for the Hunters for the sake of one reploid, now matter how famous. I couldn't have done all that needed to be done by myself, there were too many things happening at once! With a Maverick here, and a Maverick there, I did what any rational commander would do.

I deployed my only surviving soldier.

It may have been the right decision, but I hated myself for it. I still do to this day. I knew that sending him to battle would shatter his black and white view of the world; would kill that optimistic light in his eyes. I was right.

For once I wish I wasn't.

When he came back after that first mission, it felt like my heart had shattered. He had looked so lost and haunted when he stumbled into my office, half dead on his feet to give me his report. I had gone numb then, my systems had nearly shut down from the horror that began to gnaw away at my thoughts, the guilt that told me exactly what I had already knew.

I did this.

After I sent him off to the infirmary I had slowly walked over to the door. The door locked with a soft click and I slid to the floor. I don't remember how long I sat there, leaning against the door. All I remember is that numb, empty feeling, and those haunted green eyes.

But unfortunately that was not the last I saw of them.

Things just escalated from there. More missions, more death, more reports. The more times I sent him on a mission, the more times I had to see those eyes. It was very hard for me to hide my guilt every time I saw them. I had just wanted to collapse on the floor like I had that first time.

But I couldn't.

He looked up to me, admired me. I had always known it. He thought I didn't. To him I had always been the proud one, the strong one, the invincible one. I could see it, like a small spark growing in those lifeless eyes. It wasn't enough to make them lose their haunted look, but it helped a little. I suppose he had thought that 'Commander Zero' would be able to keep away the pain, make it all right again. Unfortunately I shattered that vision as well. How? It's simple.

I died.

I don't know what happened next. I don't really ever want to know. But somehow I was brought back. It is plausible to bring a reploid back from death. All it would need was one small chip. He found mine. He was the one who brought me back. I remember springing from the table, ignoring the scientists gathered around me. I barely recognized the face of Dr. Cain, but I ignored it. Something was screaming at me, telling me that he was in trouble. Dr. Cain was speaking, but I didn't catch the words. "Where is he?" I managed to grate out, cutting off whatever he had been saying.

Dr. Cain looked confused for a moment, but then understanding dawned. He rattled off some coordinates and then said something else. I don't know what it was. I didn't hear it. I was gone the moment the last number tumbled out of his mouth. I suppose he was wishing me luck. It doesn't matter now, I didn't need the luck.

If anyone did, it would be the enemies.

I was not a happy camper when I arrived. He was injured badly, and looked like he was going to fall apart. His arm was twisted awkwardly beneath him, those haunted green eyes no longer empty. They were full of pure and unbridled rage. I am ashamed to say I froze then and there. I had not seen him so alive since those days long ago. It seemed so long, that I had begun to wonder if it had been nothing but a dream. But those eyes were not focused on me. They were glaring up at the reploid standing over him, every ounce of that emotion was trained on one person. My breath hitched as I finally got a good look at the reploid's face. I knew that face. How could I not? I saw it every day.

It was me.

"How dare you…" He echoed my thoughts as he struggled to his feet, his arm hanging limply at his side. His helmet had long since fallen off and was probably lying abandoned somewhere in the room. His wild black hair stuck to his face, matted with the fluid that was the reploid equivalent of blood, "How dare you use his form?"

"Aw…Isn't the wittle hunter glad to see me?" The not-me crackled, I hated that sound. Even to this day it sends shivers up my spine. I don't even know if it is possible for me to make that sound. I never tried. I never want to try. I felt anger boil up inside me as the not-me roughly pulled him up by his hair, "After all, you were the reason I died. You should be happy to see me alive."

"You aren't him!" He denied vehemently, struggling to escape the not-me's grasp, "You aren't him!"

But he was.

The not-me was me. He was everything I hated about myself. All of my poor decisions, all of the things I regretted, all the lives I took they all condensed and created him within my mind. Even though the not-me was not connected to me in any real way, to me he was the physical representation of the darkness in my soul. I was afraid that one day this would happen again. That I would snap; let the dark-me out. It hasn't happened yet, but I'm still afraid. Every time I go into battle I fear that it would escape. It will happen one day, I know it will. The darkness got stronger with every regret, every life I took. Even today it is still in my thoughts. I can feel it clawing at the back of my consciousness, whispering things to me in the dark of night. But I ignore it. I never want that to happen again, I never want to force him to fight me.

Somehow things turned out fine in that battle. I don't remember much past that point. Things happened too fast, it is all a blur. But when we returned to the base, things changed. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He seemed better, more at peace with himself after that. Life seemed to return to him, It wasn't much; nothing more than a spark that had kindled a small flame. But anything was better than the lost and empty look that had haunted me for the longest time.

Of course, what goes up must come down. The battles just kept coming. He rose through the ranks, soon catching up to me and then passing me all together. He became the Commander, and I saw the life fade again. Being The Commander isn't all it's cracked up to be, it was a stressful job. I should know, I had resigned from it as soon as possible, returning to my old post as the leader of the 00 Unit. I tried to help him out the best I could, I became his friend. It seemed to work for a while, but I saw the look in his eyes when he thought I wasn't looking. It was the look of someone who didn't know why they kept on going. How did I know this?

I have seen that very same look in the mirror.

I was ecstatic when he resigned, leading the way for Signas to take over command. Things have gotten better since then, but I still see that look. I try to make it go away. I act silly and overly happy. I make him laugh, I make him smile. I drag him out of the base and into town, trying to make him forget whatever causes that look. But it doesn't work.

What causes that look? What goes on behind those green eyes? My concern has grown as I got to know him. No longer do I only care because he was a child lost in war. No. He no longer is a child, that naïveté had long ago been killed. He is a soldier now, one who had seen death and dealt death. But I still wanted to protect him, even if it was from himself.

Oh yes, I do know what that look means. I know what it can lead to. I don't ever want that to happen, not to him, not to anyone. I still feel the guilt for not protecting him all those years ago, I am doing my best to make up for it. But how can I help, if I don't know what the problem is?

Damn it.

Why don't you trust me, X? Why do you keep hiding everything from me? It is killing me inside, not being able to help. You are my friend, that is why I care. Not because you are the strongest Hunter. Not because you are hailed as a hero. Not because you are the 'Original'; the first reploid ever built, Megaman X. I care because of who I saw long ago, the newbie hunter with a cheery personality. I care because of the brooding hunter you are now; even though I tried to prevent it. It doesn't matter who you become.

I will always care.

Always, for a friend.

Zero closed his journal with a sigh. It felt good to get it all out of his head, but it just served to remind him of everything. All the thoughts that he usually kept locked deep in the back of his mind came forward, haunting him. He slipped the worn book underneath the bed where no body would ever find it. He didn't want everyone to see what a sentimental fool he was. It was one of thereasons he had only now just decided to write it down. Normally he wouldn't even dream of keeping a journal, but he had seen X with one the day before. X had looked more at peace than Zero had ever seen him as he moved the pen over the pages. Zero had just stood there silent, just watching the peaceful expression. It wasn't something he had seen very often, only when he managed to walk in when the other reploid was sleeping. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, writing it all down would make him feel better as well. It had for a moment, but like all good things it had to end.

"Zero…?"

He looked up, his gaze meeting with the very person he had been writing about, "Hmm…?"

"Um…thanks…for yesterday…" The blue reploid smiled nervously, "It was…nice to get out of the base…"

Zero managed to school his face into a grin, falling back into his happy persona, "No problem, I'll make sure to do it again."

He paused, putting a finger to his lip thoughtfully, "Hm…how about going right now?"

"What? It's only ten in the morning."

"So?" The blonde reploid shrugged his shoulders and rocketed off the bed, grabbing X's arm and dragging him outside, "Let's go!"

"Zero!"

A/N: Um…just let me say that I know nothing about the MMX games except what I read in fanfics, so if this is wrong…well…then make it somewhat AU……this should be the last one, although I might throw out another chapter where they find each other's journals... –crackles- That would be mean…

It feels nice to be inspired again…and to write. My time has been somewhat taken up by school, school projects, and science projects….

R and R please? I want to know what people think…