DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MEGAMAN FRANCHISE. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO CAPCOM.

Well, I worked long and hard on this. Hopefully it turned out alright. This plot is getting hard for me to figure out at times.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I hardly batted an eye when I heard the sound. I stayed put, stubbornly refusing the blaring noise of an alarm clock take me away from my peaceful sleep. It could just keep ringing for all I cared.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It could wait a few more minutes. Or hours. The rest of the day, maybe. That sounded nice.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Okay, maybe I could turn it off, first. That would make sleeping a little easier. I mustered what little energy I had to force myself to move my arm a few inches, finally turning off the alarm clock. Of course, my internal clock was still telling me in that imaginary voice, "Hey. It's 10:14 am. Get up. Recharge. Do things, you moron."

Instead, I rolled over in my bed and ignored the thing. Part of me knew that having an alarm clock as well as an internal clock was what one would consider "overkill", but I didn't care. Sometimes I needed the extra reminders.

Of course, right now I was going to ignore both of them. All I wanted to do right now was sleep. Sleeping was nice. It was peaceful; relaxing, even. And besides, I was on vacation. If I wanted to spend the whole day sleeping, then it was totally within my rights to do just that.

Some people think that all Reploids are completely awake when they first activate in the morning; that we're incapable of sleeping in because of our internal clocks. That's not necessarily true. We need time to recharge after waking up, just like humans. Or at least, I did. I wasn't really sure about everyone else. Although Zero always had this weird ability to be alert after being awake for two seconds flat.

But the main problem for me right now was that I wasn't going back to sleep, no matter how much I wanted to. It was like my mind had just decided, "No. You don't get to sleep all day. Life doesn't like you enough to let you do that."

To which I wanted to tell my mind to shut up, let me sleep, I didn't care what life thought about me, leave me alone. But it would always reply with, "Awaaaakeeeennn… you broken piece of sleepiness…"

…My head voices were getting weird.

So, in an attempt to think about something other than the fact I was having bizarre conversations with myself, I shifted my focus to something closer to what my actual mood was. Unfortunately, my mood was not what one would call "pleasant" at the moment.

I just kept thinking about the incident three days ago. I hadn't felt good about it then, and I certainly wasn't feeling any better about it now. I mean, Axl and the rest of Red Alert had only been doing what they thought was right. They were doing the same thing I had for years now: killing Mavericks. The only difference was that they were doing so illegally. But in the end, the result was the same, wasn't it? Mavericks were still being killed. People were still being saved. Reploids were still losing their family and friends to the virus.

I groaned. This was why I wanted to go back to sleep. Thinking about this sort of thing was tearing me apart, and I couldn't do anything about it. If I was asleep, I might finally get a break. Didn't I deserve that much?

Of course, part of me knew that even if I went to sleep, I would still have dreams. And those dreams had been turning into nightmares as of late. So now I was stuck in a no-win situation: Get up and go through the day feeling miserable, go back to sleep and potentially be tormented by horrid visions, or lay here all day, doing nothing, stewing in my own thoughts.

What was the point? I would be miserable no matter what, regardless of which path I decided to take. I wasn't about to give up on trying—I was feeling too lazy for the emotional requirement for giving up—but I had to figure out what I was going to do with my day, or I would just drive myself insane.

Driving yourself insane, I realized, took noticeably less effort than giving up. See, insanity just throws itself at you when the circumstances allow it. You can't really control it. Giving up, however—that you actually have to decide to do.

And let's face it, when you've slept for 19 hours straight, making decisions is not something you feel like doing.

So instead I just lay there for a while. I wondered if Axl would ever stop hating me. Most likely not; it's hard to stop holding a grudge against someone who tried to kill you. And yet, I realized that I didn't like the thought of anyone holding such strong, negative emotions towards me. I wasn't a bad person… right?

But then, how do you define a "bad person?" I already knew, but now it was hard to think of myself as being any better than them. After all, a bad person hurts others who don't deserve it, right? And wasn't that essentially what the Mavericks were?

Mavericks didn't deserve their fate. They didn't choose to lose their sanity, to become such a threat to everyone else. They were all good people before the virus. And yet I had killed them. I killed them all, stole their weapons, and then proceeded to use their specific weakness in order to kill more of them. To me, that sounded like the definition of a horrible person.

Yes, they were committing crimes. They were harming, even killing innocent people. And for that reason, I had to destroy them. There was no other way to protect everyone. I had accepted that. And yet, as I said before, it wasn't them that was so much the problem as the virus that was making them do it. The Reploids themselves were innocent. And yet I destroyed them anyway. I had tried to kill Axl, too.

And because there was no cure, forty-eight Reploids had died. Even more than that, actually, but I had stolen weapon data from forty-eight of them. Even though I deleted the data (feeling them linger in my database had been like being haunted by ghosts) that didn't change what I had done. I was caught in a tangle of terrible options: fight the Mavericks and continue to kill Reploids who were not at fault, not stop fighting and allow even more innocents to be killed in the process.

I somehow managed to let out a bitter laugh. There was just no escaping my fate, was there? Either way, I would be doing something terrible. But that's just how life was, no matter how I wanted everything to be different. I sighed. Well, there's not going to be any winning if you don't get up, I reasoned.

I dragged myself out of bed. I wanted to go somewhere, in stark contrast to my previous feeling of not wanting to do anything. I suddenly felt that if I didn't leave this cramped house as soon as possible, then I would suffocate to death. Odd, since I wasn't even capable of suffocating.

Where would I go, was the question. I didn't want to go to the HQ just yet—in fact, I didn't even want to be around other people. Maybe I would visit a nearby forest.

Truthfully speaking, I wanted to see Zero. But after my breakdown next to him a few days ago, going back there seemed strange. On the other hand, maybe I should let him know that I'm doing alright. The problem was, I wasn't doing alright. And I wasn't about to go around, lying to my best friend. That would just make everything worse.

I couldn't handle it being worse. If things got any worse I would lose my mind. After all, wasn't it better to think that I hadn't gone crazy yet, that I was just troubled? I don't think I could count as "insane" until I actually started hallucinating or something. Besides, I still wanted to say something to Zero to make up for my recent breakdown.

Sure, he couldn't hear me, but I tried to think of it as him being a good listener. After all, wouldn't that be easier than seeing him as dead?

"I know I'm being held prisoner and all, but…" I began, a distinct spark of annoyance rising within me, "…but could this place get any more boring?! What, prison cells can't afford to be equipped with a TV and some video games?! At this rate, I'll die of boredom before old age sets in! And I don't even age!"

The guard outside my holding cell didn't respond. Not that I expected him to. Professional guards always seemed to have this thing about not talking to their prisoners. I couldn't understand why. It was as though talking to someone was going to throw the universe out of balance or something. Or maybe they just liked listening to their prisoners have one-sided conversations with themselves.

But hey, what did I expect? I was in Maverick Hunter custody. It's not as though they actually cared who they were imprisoning or why. To be honest, I never really trusted how the government manages things. They get so worked up on protocols and technicalities that they don't always get the job done.

That's where me and friends at Red Alert usually came in. We took care of what the Maverick Hunters couldn't—or didn't. We were like an unofficial back-up team. We came in when the going got tough, or if they simply weren't there in time. And now I was being punished for it. Didn't that seem incredibly hypocritical to them? We were doing the exact same thing they were, and we were being treated like the very scum we fight.

Not to mention the fact that I had been assaulted—by my own idol, even! —and I hadn't even been doing anything wrong. What had I done that deserved my own arm as a price?!

"You know," I started again, trying to change my own subject, "I find it strange that you arrest someone, spend several hours of your work time around them, and then don't even say anything. Isn't that boring? I mean, don't you ever want to do anything better with your time?"

"If you're trying to manipulate me into abandoning my post, you can forget it," the guard finally growled. "You're a criminal, and I'm here to keep an eye on you, and make sure no one else tries to break in to get you out. Nothing you say is going to stop me from performing my duty." I raised an eyebrow. What kind of response was that?

"Hey, I'm just trying to make conversation here. Jeez, the second I open my mouth you think I'm trying to manipulate you into letting me go. Uptight, much?" I questioned. The guard gave me an annoyed look.

I sighed and motioned to the barred door that kept me locked in. "Even if I had made you leave, it's not like I could get out. These bars are reinforced with a force field that generates an electric shock if too much pressure is applied to it. The same with the rest of the room. There's no way to forcefully bust myself out of here without passing out several times in the process—and in that case, you could easily move me into a new cell while I'm out. Rinse and repeat." I sighed. "As much as I don't like it, I'm stuck here until HQ finally decides to let me go."

The guard gave me a suspicious look.

"How did you know about the force field?" he asked. "No one here has mentioned it to you, and I have neither seen nor heard of you finding out about it the hard way. Could it be…" he narrowed his eyes. "…that you have spies within the Hunter base?"

I stared at him dumbfounded.

"Um. The residual traces of elothime? It's gathering like dust in here. Elothime's used in tons of electrically-powered pressure-sensors, since it's practically self-sustaining. And since I'm not constantly being electrocuted, there must be a force field preventing this metal room from acting like a freaky conductor." I said like it was the most obvious thing in the universe. This time it was the guard's turn to stare.

"…You saw residual traces of elothime? That stuff's supposed to be invisible," he said, a judgmental look in his eyes. I blinked in response.

"Really? The stuff shimmers like a heatwave in certain lighting," I pointed out. "Otherwise it just looks like dirt. Makes the place look hideous."

I didn't get what he was staring at me about. I was just using basic reasoning. What, he thought that my childish appearance meant that I was stupid or something? I thought that stereotype was only used by humans!

Of course, it could always be something different, but I didn't feel like trying to come up with what it might be. But the guard finally stopped staring, and seeing as I most likely wasn't going to get a good conversation from him, I shifted my attention to the wall in front of me.

It really was boring in here. These last few days—and I knew it was days because my internal clock kept me updated—had felt long and empty. Almost like a dream, really. Prisoners were treated fairly well by the Maverick Hunters in terms of Jail Logic, but most of the day I was in my prison cell. I can't possibly describe how boring that is without using similes, so let me just say that: It was like my brain was melting from sheer boredom.

What was I supposed to do in here? I could always sing, I guess, but that would give me a weird reputation. So most of the time, I ended up thinking. And the things I had to think about were less than optimistic.

Like the fact that I recently lost my left arm and had it reattached soon afterwards. I kept bending my elbow up and down, clenching and unclenching my fist, just to make sure it was still there. I had been in so much physical pain when I was teleported to the HQ that I think I passed out at some point. Have you ever had your arm torn off from the elbow down? It hurts. It hurts, and you're convinced you're about to die because there's synth-blood everywhere, and you can't move—

I slapped myself, earning me a strange look from my guard. But hey, internal slapping just wasn't going to cut it. You still have your arm, doofus, I berated myself. Get over it and stop being a baby.

That was how I handled most of my struggles, really. Get over it, move on, it's in the past now, forget about it. I mean, there's no time like the present, right? So I just had to deal with the present.

Which was how I encountered my next problem: The present was utterly boring and stupid.

I mean, not only was there nothing to do, I was forced to think about the fact that X, the person I had admired for years, had assaulted me with hatred in his eyes. I hadn't even met him before then and he already hated me. He tried to apologize for it, but quite frankly, I wasn't buying it. You don't just try to murder someone and be all like, "Yeah, that was totally an accident. My bad!"

If recent events had taught me anything, it's that people aren't always what they seem to be. X had seemed so amazing in my eyes: he was fast, powerful, and he had helped save the world six times by now! There were so many stories about his bravery and compassion that I wanted nothing more than to meet him face-to-face. Now I had and… well… now I might as well have lost both of my idols.

My other idol being Zero, X's partner. He was just as amazing as I had seen X. He wielded his infamous Z-Saber into battle, slaying any Mavericks that got in his way! But… he had died recently. It was some five years ago now, but I was really upset by it. He seemed invincible; how could anything have taken him out? The worst part was that now I would never get to meet him, the Reploid I had admired for as long as I can remember. And now, having met X, I'd lost most of my respect for him. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he and Zero saved everyone so many times, but I don't think I could forgive him for attacking me like that. I anxiously held my left arm with my other hand, wishing I could stop thinking about past events.

"Hey, kid," my guard said suddenly. "There's someone on the line who wants to talk to you."

I blinked. Whoever that caller was, they had to have been psychic or something.

"Um, okay. Patch it through," I replied, wondering who the caller was. There was a slight static sound as the call was sent to my communicator—which was now turned off most of the time.

"Hey, Axl!" a familiar voice said through the intercom. My eyes widened. It was Gungaroo, one of my closest friends from Red Alert.

"Gungaroo? Why are you calling?" I asked, surprised by his sudden communication.

"What, you're not happy to hear me?" he said teasingly. "I came to give you good news. See, everyone here's pretty eager to get you back, although Warfly refuses to say it outright. So we've been thinking: if we can somehow break through the transporter-jammer around that cell of yours, we can get you out of there no problem!"

"Wait, what?" I said, befuddled. "You're actually going to try that? Are you nuts? I can more than handle myself in this dumpster! You don't need to go around, sending gifts and techno-babble to my barred doorstep."

"Huh?" Gungaroo wondered aloud. I sighed. Did I really have to explain to him that I couldn't reference anything involving an escape plan next to a guard in a prison? He was really slow sometimes. But I think he eventually caught on, because he continued talking after a few moments.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you actually want to stay there? You just called it a dumpster." He replied. I was starting to get annoyed at the fact that I now had to explain things to him while also trying not to get the guard's attention.

"Look," I started, "I know you're worried and all that. But spamming the HQ's phone receiver or whatever they're calling it nowadays isn't going to make them very happy with us. Our relationship with the Hunters is strained enough as it is, annoying them isn't going to help anything." That was reasonable enough, wasn't it? Besides, as much as I hated being in here, it would only be for a month or so. I could spend that time doing… something. Maybe sleep. Sleeping was good, and I dreamt a lot. My dreams could keep me entertained until I had to leave.

Okay, so that idea sounded lame. But hey, I was trying to keep my friends out of a world of pain, here! The Hunters were no joke—they could be thorough when the circumstances called for it. And since we were now apparently wanted criminals for protecting civilians—I will never understand that—they would be a thorn in our sides more than they usually were.

"Sorry, Axl," Gungaroo began, sounding incredibly plucky given the situation, "but Red's pretty intent on getting you out of there. Because he's awesome like that. And I'm gonna get bored over here without you to annoy, so—"

"I knew it! You do take pleasure in driving me up the wall!" I interjected, feeling like I had just won a gold medal for something.

"Oh, shut up! You do the exact same thing!" he pouted. Then, sounding more serious, "Look, we're going to get you out of there. I just thought I'd give you a warning, first."

"I could sit here and argue with you all day as to why that idea sucks…" I began, "…but I'm feeling too lazy. And nothing I say is going to stop you, so I'm going to let the matter drop for now."

"If you say so, pineapple-head. I'm hanging up now."

The signal was cut, indicating that Gungaroo had done just that. I sighed. Now I had to deal with the fact that I was going to be teleported out of here at random, which meant that there was going to be a lot of fighting with the Hunters soon. On one hand, I was glad to finally have an opportunity to get out of this place, but on the other hand… I didn't want to fight the Maverick Hunters. These were the guys who managed to take down Sigma! Six times! And besides, we considered ourselves their allies, didn't we? I didn't want to fight them, no matter how much I loved shooting things.

Except maybe X. Some payback sounded nice right about now. So did fries, actually, but mostly payback. That guy had tried to kill me; I wasn't about to let him get away with it.

"Would it be bad for me to slap myself right now?" I wondered out loud. "I mean, I know I deserve it, but it's not like anyone else is going to."

Pondering that thought for a few moments, I proceeded to smack myself across the face. "Ow… I hit hard when I'm stressed…" I grumbled.

In spite of my better judgement, I was standing before Zero yet again. Shouldn't I have stopped doing this by now? Seeing him only made me upset, didn't it? On the other hand, it was almost therapeutic, in a weird sort of way. I knew I could say anything to Zero, and he would be listening. That's right; he was just listening. Besides, he looked peaceful, and it was nice to know that at least one of us was at peace with the whole situation.

I had already apologized repeatedly to him for freaking out a few days ago in front of him. But now it was back to me trying to find answers that might not be there, from someone who could not give me any.

"…So, I've already gone over why I deserved that… how have you been doing?" I asked, wondering why I would ask something like that to someone who was sleeping. I was only met with silence, after all. I sighed. "Well, okay, I guess you don't feel like talking right now. That's okay, I can wait. Just… make it soon, okay? It's starting to get lonely out here."

Oh, who was I kidding? It had been lonely ever since Zero had locked himself up here. But I wasn't about to say that. Besides, if he had been listening at all, then he would have already known, anyways. So instead, I knelt onto the ground, switching topics to keep the conversation going.

"You know, I keep getting this feeling… like there's still someone I need to fight," I began slowly, wondering once again why I was saying any of this. "Like Sigma is still out there, hatching some scheme and hurting others. I mean… he's come back five times already. What's to stop him from coming back again?" I took a deep breath. I noticed that I had been taking a lot of deep breaths lately. Was I really becoming that unstable?

"Each time, it was a different body, but it was still Sigma. I didn't understand it… what was he even trying to accomplish at that point? I guess it doesn't matter, but… I know he's out there, Zero. If not him, then someone else is going to take his place. I just know it. That's how this cycle keeps going, isn't it? They keep coming back. Sigma, Vile… always. How long until something else happens?"

I suddenly realized that my breaths had become rapid and shaky. In fact, I was shaking all over. Calm down, X, I told myself. But how was I supposed to calm down? There were still criminals out there. Disastrous people that needed to be dealt with. It didn't matter if they had been innocent before, just take them down. That's what I had always been doing, ever since the first war. How could it end? How could it possibly-?

I slapped myself again. "Idiot! S-stop that already! You're freaking Zero out!"

I paused. Had I just said that out loud? Oh, great, I was talking to myself. Now I really was going crazy! I knew I had been right when I thought that insanity comes to you by itself. I certainly hadn't decided to become this way. I sighed in defeat, finally regulating my own breathing again.

"I'm sorry, Zero. I shouldn't keep freaking out like that, especially not in front of you. I don't know what's gotten into me lately; it's like things have deliberately gone downhill again." I apologized. I looked at him. He was still sleeping, like always. Once again I noticed just how different he looked; mannerisms aside, his facial structure was different, almost making him look younger; his helmet was now black where the white usually was; and his hair, while just as long as it was before, wasn't nearly as bushy as it had been. But he was still recognizable. To me, at least. Sometimes I wondered if I had become as different as him. I recall having a certain amount of confidence—probably because I knew Zero would always be there to help me through anything. Oh, how wrong I had been about that.

But in the end, I was the one who changed, wasn't I? Zero was still the same. Inactive, yes, but the same as he was before.

"Hey, Zero," I said suddenly. "I was just thinking… I kept thinking about how much everything had changed, but that's not really the case, is it? I mean, look at you; your body may have changed, but your still my friend Zero. I think…" I paused. "…I think as long as I know that, I'll be able to manage… somehow." I managed to smile—it probably looked forced, but it was a smile nonetheless.

And yet… it was as though Fate itself had sensed my calmness and decided that had to go, because Alia's voice suddenly came through my communicator.

"Hey, X? Can you hear me?" she asked.

I jumped, letting out a yelp of surprise.

"Alia?! Y-yes, I can hear you," I replied, startled.

"Sorry to bother you, X, but… remember when you told me to keep you posted in case anything came up?"

Oh, no. No, no, no. What happened? Had anyone died? Oh, God, it was happening again, who was I about to have to kill?

"Well," Alia began, "this may not be what you had in mind when you said that… but someone's trying to hack into the Maverick Hunter HQ's database. We may need your help later when we find the source."

I sighed. I muted my communicator briefly.

"Well, Zero… looks like I was right after all." Then, unmuting my communicator, "I'll be right there. I'll get to the nearest teleportation site as soon as I can."

"Roger that."

I hope this is all over with soon, I thought to myself. Wouldn't it be great if there wasn't any bloodshed?

Author's Notes: If it wasn't clear by now, I like writing X suffer. I also like writing Axl. He's just awesome. :D

Please review! Your feedback is much appreciated! :)