I can feel your smack now, just writing it. But I also know that you love it. You love that I have my own nickname, that we are connected. That nickname is like those pebbles that penguins give to each other.
I’m sorry about whatever broke us up last time. I’m sorry about the time before. I’m sorry for all the bullshit things I ever did or said to you. I’m sorry I never treated you the way you deserved. I’m sorry I never showed you the house my parents left me. I’m sorry for so many things, baby, and I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.
I want you to know that I didn’t plan this myself. I didn’t imagine I’d come driving back into the City and Wily wouldn’t have plans for me. I wanted to believe I could, hope that I could come back and we could patch things up and get married and you could settle down and be the mom mine never was, and maybe I’d keep fighting or maybe I’d settle down, too.
Man, this really puts a lot into perspective now.
There’s so many things I never told you. So much that I pissed away on rallies and fights with the bots, in jail, fighting you of all people. So many things I want to say now that I don’t remember. Because I know what’s coming. And I know that all those things just boil down to this.
I love you, Cynthia.
Eleven years. She knew how long it had been since Wily’s big screen had been destroyed. Not just because it became an anniversary for Wily, but because that was the last day she had had with him. The last day that she spent worrying about his reaction to being a father. Because he had shown up at her door and she had thrown herself on him. Because she knew that he was the only one she really cared about.
Eleven years since she had moved into his home. Eleven years since she had contended with his ghost. She blamed the hormones for her outbursts, for her fits of hysterical rage-tears. But part of her knew that the tears would’ve come regardless.
She also knew because it was a couple months after she had learned about her pregnancy. About eight months before she had struggled through hours of labor to pop out a kid that looked just like him. A little girl that was trouble from the moment the cord was clipped. She hadn’t even finished the afterbirth when the little thing had lost her mind.
Almost ten years since she had been given the key. The will had left her everything Joe had to his name. After ten years, the lawyer assigned as his executor had showed up at her door. The envelope had a key, a bank name, and a safe deposit box number. This was the last item to be executed on the will. The lawyer thanked Cynthia and disappeared into a vehicle to drive out of the district.
Cynthia knew better than to take the key and open the box on that day. It was the anniversary. Wily had declared it a City Holiday. The banks used any excuse to close. She finished getting ready for work, folded the envelope around the key, and stuffed it into a zippered compartment in her purse.
That was where the key remained for weeks. Cynthia had to make a decision. The box was paid for indefinitely. All she had to do was decide when to open it.
The key was moved to a false bottom in her nightstand. The bots would be able to see through it, but it made her feel better knowing it was hidden from plain view. She could pretend.
She dreamt about it some nights, about showing up at the bank and the safe deposit box having some kind of map to his new location. Or some kind of money. Or a ring. Or maybe just him, safe and alive. She woke up in a sweat those mornings, exhausted.
“Mommy?”
Cynthia looked down to her daughter, to his daughter. She offered her a weak smile. “Yes, sweetie?”
Winona attached herself to her mother’s hip. “Thank you for the birthday party, Mommy.” She squeezed and backed away. “I know you tried really hard to get a lot of my friends here. It’s not your fault I don’t have that many. At least we’ll have plenty of cake!”
Cynthia sniffled and nodded to her daughter. Just trying to make her feel better for a pain that she couldn’t ever know. Shouldn’t ever know. Cynthia looped her hands around her daughter’s head and hugged her to her belly. “You’re right! Do you think Travis will want two pieces?”
Winona’s head shot up. “Two!”
Cynthia giggled through her tears. “You can have three! You’re the birthday girl after all."
Winona chuckled. “It’s okay if I only get two, Mommy. Everybody should have as much as they want.”
Cynthia nodded absently. “That’s awful generous of you, baby girl.” Joe’s nickname for her fell to their daughter.
Winona lifted her eyebrows. “Do you feel better, Mommy?”
Cynthia sniffled. Brave face. Be strong. That’s what he would do. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I’m crying on your birthday.”
Winona hugged her mother one more time before Travis called to her. Cynthia nodded and Winona rushed off.
Cynthia turned around to the letter that rested on the kitchen counter. It had gotten splotched with tears, red punch had been dripped on it. She should’ve put it away in her room. But it was all she had left. All she had left of him. That and the tape.
There would be candles. Ten candles on the cake. She should get the letter to safety before she lit the candles.
Cynthia gathered up her purse and gestured to Travis’s mother. The woman nodded and motioned for her to go. Every mother needed a moment. Cynthia stole away upstairs to her room.
The safe deposit box had had two items in it. One large envelope, oddly shaped around an outmoded technology. No one used cassette tapes anymore. The letter had strange creases around it as well. There was another letter, one written in haste on the back of a Wily report. Blood had been smeared on it.
Don’t let Thomas or Winona grow up not knowing their father. Let them know that someone loved them. Raise them right. I’m so sorry. I love you both. So much.
"You said it don't hurt or nothin, right? It won't turn my brain into scrambled eggs?" The humming had gotten louder.
He heard a few tacks of a keyboard followed by clicks. "It's perfectly safe. I've used it on myself a number of times. I just want to broaden the potential pool in an attempt to unbias my results." There was more clicking and typing. "It's already running. Do you feel anything different?"
He looked down to his hands and shrugged. "Little tingly down my spine, but that's about it, Doc." He shifted in an attempt to be more comfortable in the contraption Light had strapped him into. "You said you had questions to ask?" He wasn't the best in school academically, but he hoped he would have the right answers for whatever questions the Doctor needed him to answer.
"Sure. Just a few. Though, it would also help if you wanted to just talk about some past experiences. Like, you've been arrested before, haven't you?"
His eyebrows lifted. "Oh, yeah, plenty. You said this was to help with your AI or something, right? You sure I should be supporting like... disobeying your masters or whatever? Seems sorta like a bad idea for a robot."
There was a loud slam into the desk to his right. He flinched slightly and tried to look around the helmet. "I don't make robots anymore." The voice was level, filled with barely contained rage.
He glanced to the left at the rest of the laboratory covered in shards of robots, heads and arms and fingers oozing from every corner, every drawer, every shelf. The only reason there probably wasn't a whole robot or twenty was that the old man didn't have the power sources or the gumption to bring himself to complete something that betrayed him.
"So where do you want me to start?"
"You know what, you said you had someone you were doing this for, right? How about you start off with a message for her."
He looked down to his legs. He had been trying to forget that he would be leaving her behind. Sure, he was willing to sacrifice himself for the good of the city, but was he really okay with sacrificing her? He inhaled slowly. "I, uh..." He let his eyes look into the middle distance, picturing her face, her giggling into the pillow, the curve of her body in the moon and street lights. "This is for Cynthia, I guess..."
---
His visual systems booted up before his other systems. Under normal circumstances, this would be a nuisance. Audio systems were the best at pinpointing and identifying potential threats. He opened his eyes and discovered nothing but darkness. More sensory systems would definitely be a top priority for him.
He shifted his visual systems into night-mode and everything became a tinge of green. The glass of the tube he was in became obvious, but there still wasn't enough light to define objects. He sighed gently and switched to infrared.
A huddled mass of human was wadded up on the floor across from his tube. The heat given off by their body and surrounding electrical components helped to define a larger portion of the room. He zoomed in on the ball. Rump and feet on the floor, arms were probably wrapped around their legs before they fell asleep with their cheek on their knees. He tilted his head slightly- she.
As his audio systems booted and connected to the rest of his main system, the noise of his surroundings flooded in all at once. He slowed it down, recognized the flushing of liquid in a tube.
He lifted his right arm to press the disengage button that Light had installed on the inside. There was a short moment of air rushing into the tank, blowing around his hair and drying off his skin. He hoped there would be clothes this time.
The tube opened with a gentle hiss and he watched Winona's rainbow colored body expand and contract with her breathing. He moved toward the desk and was able to grope around in the dark to find one of the desk lamps. A light click turned it on, and he looked back to Winona in fear that he had woken her. He hadn't.
He switched back to his normal visual sensors and found the new set of clothes set out for him. She must have picked out new clothes for him. Instead of black jeans that barely fit, he was provided black, boot cut jeans that hung comfortably around his legs. The shirt was a simple charcoal cotton t-shirt that slid easily over his head and both arms. This was covered with a red button-down that he easily button with both hands.
Hands. His brow furrowed. After about the third button he pulled his hands away. Something was off about this. He held both hands out in front of him and turned them over, hand, palm. Hand. Palm. One on the right. One on the left.
Winona groaned in her sleep. Instinct took over and he held his left arm stiff, barrels pointed in the direction of the noise. His thumb pointed upward, dispelling the illusion. This was no longer a gun. He had two hands, not one gun and one hand. He was like a normal human, not just a robot designed to liberate or control. He balled his left hand into a fist and opened it a few times. Winona groaned again.
Her face tightened together in frustration or pain, he wasn't sure. Her head lifted haltingly and she tried to roll her neck, one hand lifting off the floor to reach back and rub at the sore muscles. Her bare feet slid forward to lay flat on the floor, her toes curling forward and pointing into the distance to stretch. The top of her leg was almost flat with the stretch. Her legs shook a bit as the muscles were tested, but she relaxed again, her head tilting to the side, her hands finding their way to her thighs. They curled in on themselves loosely, and he recognized the gentle snore of her falling back asleep.
"Winona...?" His voice was repaired. In that one utterance, he recognized a larger range of emotion. He had hoped to be gentle, but he heard the curiosity and worry as well.
She straightened her back, but her eyes did not open. "Proto...?" Her voice was raspy from sleep.
He pressed his lips together and moved to touch her shoulder. She did not jump, but she did turn her head. "What are you doing on the floor?"
She groaned again, but her eyes did not open. "Everybody else is asleep... No room for me..." She raised a hand to rub at her eyes.
He found himself smiling gently. "Why not sleep on the slabs where you worked on me?"
"Dirty." Her face scrunched up, eyebrows angled sharply to express her disdain.
She still had not opened her eyes. Was she still asleep? "Winona, how about we find you a bed, okay?"
Her eyes opened with a squeak. He could see a white ring around her pupil, her eyes not really focused on him. "Proto? I gotta be here for Proto." His brow furrowed. She was definitely still asleep. Her eyes even closed again. "I need him and he needs me..." She swallowed heavily.
Proto looked to his left hand. There was so much more he could do. So many different ways to interact. He slid his left hand under her knees and stretched his right behind her shoulders. He lifted her easily and held her to his chest. She felt a solid mass and curled against it, he assumed to keep herself stationary. He walked beyond the tube toward the rest of the lab. He couldn't put her on the slab that his old gun rested on. He turned to the other. The dent he had made was filled with oil and other liquids, pooled together from the other masses on the rest of the slab. He nodded.
Across from the slabs was another door. He had not fully explored the lab before, that door going unnoticed until now. He wandered around the slabs and through the door to find another bedroom, recognized only by the presence of a bed. He thanked Light's addiction to work and closed the distance to gently rest Winona on the bed. She rolled over toward the rest of the soft thing immediately, snoozing harder.
He would never have been able to do that with his gun. He would've had to wake her up fully, convince her to find a bed. She would probably decline and go wake up the others or ask how his repairs felt, had she got everything. He looked at his hand and moved toward the door. This was a whole new way to interface with his environmet. No longer would he have to shoot with one hand and reload with the other. He could hold Carly with both hands. He grinned at that - both hands. He could think in those terms now.
He wasn't just a robot anymore. He was a man.
His smile faded. How would he fight now? Sure he had a hand, but now he had no weapon. Was he expected to use his fists? He searched his data for knowledge of fighting styles for fists. He came up with basic knowledge, but nothing to support his new hands. He had to save her mother, Cynthia.
Cynthia.
A whimper from behind him tore him from his thoughts. He turned around to see she was curling up tightly. Cold. He moved back toward her and pulled the sheets out from under her gently. She grumbled in her sleep, but he was able to extricate them eventually. He pulled them over her and watched her drape them around herself. In her sleep. She must be exhausted. From working on his new hand.
He hoped she had made him a new gun to fit into this new hand. Though he imagined the gun would work on both sides now. Which would make his fights that much easier.
He turned back toward the door again. Everyone was asleep, the slabs were dirty, the lab dark. He could turn on lights and investigate for his weapon, but he worried about how to use it. He would know, it was probably programmed into his data, but he would want to familiarize. Where was safe enough and what would he use for target practice? A happy noise from behind him answered his dilemma.
He was worried that his weight would be too much for the bed to handle, and while it did creak and he did sink very low, it held up rather well. Winona found his left arm and wrapped herself around it, cheek resting against the upper arm to use as a pillow. He smiled and looked to the ceiling. Losing his gun was worth it.
The light from the monitors to her right reminded her of those nights on the couch with her mom, hiding in silence from the Wilybots as they did their rounds. She couldn't remember a time when they weren't terrifying, but they were more terrifying the more she learned about Joe. Learning about Joe had been a fun, but she learned the hard way that taking that information with her to school was dangerous. She had been excited about telling her friends at school the story of this daring hero that cared about the city enough to try to save it, that he loved the city and his family so much that he gave his life in an effort to make things better. But then one kid didn't like Joe's stories and little Winona got into a fight and suddenly she wasn't allowed to talk about it anymore.
Her eyelids drooped over her eyes, blocking out the light from the computer screen. She had been able to find a lot of parts for Proto over the course of the day. A lot of it was still on the truck; it had been her that was running out of gas. Her eyes opened reluctantly and she continued trying to take stock of the parts of Proto that still had to be replaced. The light from the monitor flickered as the video on it changed, as gun shots were fired. She had almost wanted to know what Proto had been up to while he was under Wily's control, but she wanted to retain her optimism about the situation. She had believed in him so hard up to now, if she just kept doing that, everything would work out. That's what she had done with Joe, that's why had saved her from Wily's bots all those years ago. Her belief in Joe had brought Proto to her.
Travis wanted to turn her in, to beg for mercy at the feet of Wily. She knew damn well how that would work out, but Travis had always been a little against her Joe ideals as well. She often wondered why they stayed friends after she was able to get into robotics. With a lot of her free time spent at the library throughout middle and high school, with the storage space she rented where she actually worked on robots, how had they found the time to hang out, to stay connected?
Her brow furrowed and she felt her nose open a little, throat close just right so she was almost snoring. Her body wanted her asleep very much badly. It probably didn't help that the audio had been turned down low so she didn't have to actually hear specifics of what was happening, but mostly that she hadn't turned the lights on. Only the lights from the monitor and the ambient lighting from outside kept the place from being pitch dark.
She hadn't really anticipated being in the lab as long as she had been. When she had gotten back from searching for parts, the Doctor had been asleep. Travis was on the couch, a new IV in his arm and a fresh bandage on his shoulder. There were several more wads of bloody gauze on the slab that had served as an operating table, also still covered in blood. That was Proto's slab, Megaman's slab. Travis's blood stained it. Those two robots were far better heroes than Travis, the one who would turn over his lifelong friend, sacrifice the one person that means the most to him, just so he can get out of shabby apartment him and his mom lived in.
More gunshots, this time accompanied by clangs. Someone was shooting at robots, not the other way around. She didn't want to see, didn't want to watch her faith crumble, but curiosity was too strong an enemy to overcome. Her eyes lifted from the robot in front of her, the fried shell of a robot she admired, the melted skin of a man she worshipped, to the screen.
Megaman was fighting the legions of robots Wily had protecting his castle. She could see Proto's HUD identify Megaman as a robot unlike the others. She could almost feel his confusion as he muttered into his helmet. "What do you want me to do with him, sir?"
There was that voice again, the broken synthetic voice.
Goosebumps prickled over her skin at Wily's reply. "Let him bloody his hands for a bit longer. Wait for him to notice you. I want to see it. I want to see his face when he sees you."
"Of course, sir."
Winona rubbed one hand over her arm and tried to banish the goosebumps. But the words kept snaking into her ears, kept renewing the goosebumps no matter how hard she tried to get rid of them.
This was the truth of it. What he had done in that time between dying and coming back. This was what he had become. This wasn't Joe, this wasn't the Protoman of your tween years, this was the Protoman of today. Maybe all her belief in him was nothing more than that of a child clinging to hope in a hopeless world. Even Joe had turned out not to be everything she had dreamed of. If he was her real father, did he know her mother was pregnant before he ran off to be a hero? Is that why her mother wanted her to believe in his righteousness this whole time, to mitigate the damage of the idea that he was a deadbeat. She cringed - he was at least the dead part of deadbeat.
Joe had tried to escape, but her mother had always told her that he wasn't leaving his loved ones, he always planned on coming back. He knew he would be in trouble when he got back, meaning that he would've been back either way, right?
Her eyes stung with tears. Joe was a false prophet, Protoman a broken hero, and Travis? Travis was the only future she had in that horrible city and now that was gone, too. Her mother held hostage at the hands of that vile creature that ran the city, her idol was falling apart, held together by tape and string and a misguided sense of duty. But at least they all had their reasons.
Winona sniffed and rubbed the tears from her eyes. A few open mouth exhales and closed mouth sniffs cleansed her. She made a promise, she was going to save Protoman. She had her no reason for it at this point, but she had nothing else. He had promised to save her mother. Without her mother, what would she be? Probably just another citizen like Travis. And her only way of saving her mother was Protoman.
Oh, how she wanted to believe he had been reprogrammed, how Wily's crew had been able to input code that made him different, how if he was meant to be more human he had been brainwashed. Just give her this one. She wasn't sure how many more surprises she could take.
The Ground Will Crack and Blow Away - Chapter ?? - Protomen
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Roaming the wasteland that skirted the city for parts was actually very relaxing. Much like gazing at the stars at night. But the difference in temperature was not necessarily welcome. It was hard to breathe, the air was so thick and sticky. But she couldn't stop. He was up there, just laying on that slab, waiting to be repaired and woken back up. He was waiting to fulfill his mission, his duty, his promise.
"Winny!"
She sighed heavily and pointed to a pile of scrap. "Carly, look around in there for me?" The cat growled in the direction of their guest, but turned around and bounded toward the pile of scrap.
"Winny! Winona!" He rushed to meet her as quickly as he could. "Why do you keep doing this?"
Winona turned around to her friend and shook her head. "Have you ever been my friend, Travis? I'm starting to wonder if you ever were." The young redhead stopped in front of her, eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were focused on the gauze taped to her face. "Ever since you got here you've done nothing but try to stop me. Sorry, you comforted me when I found out my mom had been brutally arrested by Wilybots, but beyond that, every thing out of your mouth has been negative in some way. Especially toward Proto. How long have you known me, Trav? How can you say that shit to me and think I'll just be okay with it?"
Travis raised his right hand to her gauze pad. She jerked away instinctively, eyes on his fingers. He set his jaw. "This is a dumb plan. You're out of your league, Winny. I know you have some kind of hero worship for that bot in there, but he's nothing more than a Wilybot. I just want you to see that." He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I don't... want to lose you."
Winona furrowed her brow. There was such a sincerity in his voice, but it felt poison somehow. "That's all it is to you? 'Hero Worship'? That bot in there is way more a hero than you will ever be." His right hand raised to his bum shoulder. "Yes, even including that. He fought against Wily for us. He died trying to save us. Does none of that matter?"
Travis narrowed his eyes. "None of it matters." She threw her hands up. "Winona! He worked for Wily for how long? How can you just erase that because he 'died trying to save us'. I'll have you know that I like the city the way it is="
Winona jabbed Travis right in his bum shoulder. It was a sharp, quick jab, but he yowled in pain all the same. She jerked back. "Y-you... you always told me you thought I was right, though." Travis groaned as the pain subsided. Winona dropped her fist. "You never helped, but you never stopped me either. Why would you go to all that trouble to come out here- shit, you got shot, Trav. Why would you do that? Just to let me know my mom was gonna die?"
Travis growled in pain again and lifted his head to her. "Part of it... But I knew... I know that if I'm the one that takes you back-... Wily runs the city, Winny." His eyebrows pressed together.
Her brow furrowed for a moment, then the rocks fell into her stomach, lodged in her throat. He wanted to her to understand, needed her to. "You came here to turn me in?" She took a step back and swallowed hard. "You... Travis. You would do that?" He leaned his head and started to plead. "No." He straightened up. "Travis, I'm not gonna listen to any more of this. You go back to the apartment and you wait with with the Doctor or so help me, I'll sic Proto on you when I fix him up." Travis stiffened. Winona heard a mewl in the distance. "Or so help me, I will rig up something to power that gun I took off him and kill you myself."
Travis held his hand out to her as she turned around. "Winona! I just want to keep you safe! You and your mother!"
She spun around. "And you think giving me to the man that arrests and murders people for even thinking dissent will just go with it? He'll be merciful to some random kid in the suburb?" She wished she were close enough to jab him in the shoulder again. "You get in that fucking apartment building, so help me-"
Travis set his jaw again and sighed. She could see the weight on his shoulders from here, but he turned around. As he walked, she felt the rock in her throat drop into her heart, and herself to her knees with it. Her lips curled into a sick laugh, which gave way to gross sobs. She didn't even care that he might not have been in earshot. If he was, he didn't come back for her.
The tears soaked into the gauze on her cheek, making the cut sting with increasing intensity. She figured someday her and Travis would get together, have kids. He was the only one in that city that seemed to like her. He was the only one that seemed to tolerate her. Their views on Wily may have been wildly different, which was why she didn't talk to him about her secret workshop, but they had other things in common. Didn't they?
The tears came harder as she tried to remember why they were friends in the first place. Back when they were kids, she defended him from some bullies or something. Or was it the other way around? Whatever the catalyst, he had just started to follow her around one day. Right?
A mew pulled her from her past. Carly was beside her. She reached out to touch the little green kitty, but Carly's metal was molten with the sun beating on it. Winona sniffed and stood slowly. She may have lost Travis, but she still had to fix Proto. That was her goal. She had to stay focused. Fix Proto, save her mom, save the city from Wily, restore Light, go home and take a very long rest. She probably deserved it by now, right? Maybe, after all this was over, her and Proto could go look for his brother. He had answers she needed.
Winona turned back to Protoman at those three words. There was something in his voice that wasn't just the damage to his vocal systems. It was familiar, from his fight with the other robot that Doctor Light had built. "Whatever Wily did, Proto, we can fix it. Like I said, full systems check, replace the damaged parts... You'll be back to normal in no time. I promise."
Protoman growled.
Winona instinctively shrunk away from her hero. Carly mewled from the slab next to him. One of her paws moved to his leg. "Carly." Priorities. The backup was complete. Any new memories he created would be saved, but they could perform a backup again while he was in the vat. Carly mewed and Winona nodded to her. "You have to go get Doctor Light, okay? Tell him it's an emergency." Carly mewled again and rubbed her head on Protoman's torso. Protoman didn't respond to her affections. "Carly... Hurry. Please?"
The green cat mewed defiantly, but the longer Protoman didn't respond to her, the more upset she became. Something was definitely wrong. The green cat clicked down to the floor and hurried through the lab toward the door.
Once the cat was gone, Protoman balled up his human fist and slammed it onto the slab. Winona jumped at the sound. She scanned the area around his fist when he lifted it to his forehead. A small dent had been made in the metal of the slab. She wet her lips.
"I wondered why he said those things. Now I know that he was right." This was the Protoman from the courtyard again. The voice was dark, synthetic, hopeless, angry.
Winona glanced down to where his gun would be. The arm sparked, shifted awkwardly as he tried to use it. "Proto." Maybe that will bring him back. "You're not... You'll be fine. You have help now."
Protoman shook his head. "I'm broken. Evil. Megaman was right." Protoman shifted and dropped his hand to the slab. "If Wily hadn't gotten a hold of me..."
Winona furrowed her brow. His synthetic skin shifted awkwardly over his metallic plates as he spoke. There was an anger there, but mostly that synthetic hopelessness. She knew Light would be able to fix anything Wily and his crackpot goons had come up with. She'd just have to go looking for the parts on her own. "You aren't, Prot-"
The slam startled her. "Don't you fucking start! He changed who I am!" His hand shot across his torso, the synthetic skin shifting so that his pectorals were off by about two inches but also gathered around the right armpit. It would've reminded her of a misfitted costume if it hadn't been his skin. "I only trusted him because he changed my code." She could only tell that his eyes had closed by the lens covers clicking closed over his bright green eyes.
There was a tightness in her chest. Her heart felt strangled. Her fingers tingled, flexed at the need to touch him. Whenever her mother touched her... "You... You were... brainwashed." He had to believe it. Her throat was tightening at the back of her tongue. He had to. "We can help, Proto." Her right hand raised to rest on his, still pointed at the screen, frozen on the first frame of his memory.
His jaw shifted, clenching and relaxing a few times. She only noticed from the tug of his ears. "That is bullshit, Winona. I wasn't 'brainwashed', I was reprogrammed." He opened his eyes to her. "Just stop treating me like I'm a person. I'm not human!" He threw his hand out to shake her off.
A few drops of blood trickled down her cheek.
A life lived in fear of the Enforcers had trained her to have quick reflexes. She had never anticipated needing them around him. He had been able to connect his fingers with her cheek. The skin was thin enough that the overheat had melted him enough that his skeleton stood out. The metal cut her. Winona shook her head and turned her back to him.
Protoman's eyes focused on the red drops falling onto Winona's white shirt. His voice was still synthetic, but less angry. "I-..."
"Don't. I'm fine." Her throat was strangled now. Her nose seemed to be running for some reason. She tried to hide the sniffle in the towel when she covered her face in it. She only needed to because of the blood. The blood vessels in the face were very close to the surface. That's what she had heard. That's why cuts on your face bled a lot. Right?
"Winona-"
"Winona, what's the emergency?" Light shuffled into the room as gracefully as an elderly man could manage, his voice still a bit gruff. "Shit, Protoman, what happened?" This sobered him up quickly.
"Don't touch me, old man."
Winona closed her eyes for a moment and turned her head towards the pair. The towel was rubbed against her eyes and brushed over the wound on her face. She recognized this behavior. As much as he didn't want to be treated like a human, he sure acted like one. "Doctor Light."
The doctor's eyes trailed down Protoman's form. "All of this will have to be removed." Winona sighed and tried again. He turned his head toward her. "What did you do?"
She took a slow breath, then attempted a smile. "Carly came and got me and I found him in worse shape than this, Doctor. The backup accessed some memories that had been locked in a restricted sector. When we accessed them for the backup, it triggered the failsafes. The Faraday Cage was able to absorb a lot of the power before it got out of hand. If I hadn't installed that, we all might be in little pieces floating down over the city." The words flowed absently, something to distract from Protoman staring at her from the peripherals of her vision. "I was able to generate a user to access the memory files on the computer over there." She motioned and turned toward the computer in question. "I figured you would want to see it."
Doctor Light turned back to Protoman. "Is that what did this?"
She nodded slightly but did not turn. She had to ready the memory file again. "The failsafe was a self destruct, I think. It damaged a few of his parts. I figured me and Carly could go looking for parts at some point."
She heard Protoman's skin rub against his metal shell, a tight squeaking. "I have no choice now."
Winona turned around to him. Protoman heaved a sigh and moved to lie back down on the slab. The servos ground together, like metal shards under boots. Doctor Light moved between them, his brow furrowed. "Are you all right, kid?"
She looked up to the old man's pale blue eyes and nodded. "Yeah? Sorry. Just hit play." He glanced to the computer monitor. "What?"
Doctor Light raised his hand to her cheek. "You'll need a bandage to help with the bleeding. There will be a lot of bruising, too." He took a deep breath and she raised the towel to her cheek again. "Albert?"
Winona scooted out of the way while Doctor Light watched the video again. Her skin on her fingers buzzed from the touch she hadn't been able to hold back when she held Protoman's wrist. She knew why he had done it. She knew logically that he was reacting and didn't mean to actually hit her. But the blood slid down her cheek, followed her jawline to her chin.
He was right. He'd had to be shut down so they could open him up and replace the damaged parts. So they could identify all the damaged parts. His choice had been taken away.
She jumped when the bullets echoed from Protoman's memory. Carly mewled up at her after rubbing against her leg. Winona looked down to her and shook her head with a small smile. Carly mewed again, her eyes focused on Winona's cheek. The little green cat reared up on her back paws and slid her front paws on Winona's thigh.
"Carly..." She moved into a crouch and stroked the cat's head. "I'm fine, really." She felt the tickle in her nose again. "There is someone else that might need you more than me right now."
Carly trilled and hopped up onto the slab again. Winona followed her movement and stood up. Protoman didn't seem to notice her for a few moments.
"This is worrisome..."
Winona looked to Doctor Light. She swore she saw Protoman lift his hand as she turned. "Can you fix it?"
Doctor Light inhaled slowly. "If Wily outsourced the job to one of the people working under him, it shouldn't be too hard to identify, to fix. But..." He turned back to Protoman. "I doubt it had any lasting effects." He held his arm out. "I coded him to form his own opinions, his own beliefs. If he followed Wily, its because he attempted to alter that code, but..."
Winona stiffened. Her skin suddenly felt tight, hot. Her hands balled into fists. "No." Doctor Light looked to her. She looked down to Protoman and felt the tears sting her eyes. "No, he was changed, Doctor. I respectfully disagree with your assessment. I'll scour through that code on my own if I have to." She blinked and the cut on her cheek stung. "He came to me a hero, Doctor. I made a vow, damnit. There's no way he would've..." And then her voice cracked and Carly meowed and her face stung.
There was a metallic sigh from the slab. "I made a promise to you, Winona." The servos ground together again. This time he made an audible growl, but it wasn't laced with rage. "I will save your mother from Wily."
Winona lifted her fists slightly to throw them back down. "I have to save you first!" It was the one promise she had made. "I knew you were still alive, but I was too little or just one, which really meant I was too afraid." She sniffed and Carly meowed again. She reached forward to the cat. She saw behind Carly that Protoman had sat up and turned his torso, but it was independent of his legs. "Proto, you need to stop. The damage is getting worse the more you move."
He glanced down. "Yeah." He sighed heavily and laid back down. "Whatever he did, whatever Wily did to me, I'll make him pay."
Light raised his eyebrows and reached forward to Carly. Carly mewed happily and moved toward him. "Your personality code isn't something that can be manipulated like that. I designed it specifically to function like a real person. So any code manipulation he attempted wouldn't have worked." Light scratched under the cat's chin. "I made you as human as possible, Protoman. Any changes he made would've been outside the system."
Winona lifted her head from the cat to Light. "So I was right?"
Light shrugged. "Unless they found a flaw. Things were different for me twenty years ago."
Protoman's eyes closed. His voice was not only synthetic, but dropped in pitch. "Why would he have restricted those sectors, then? And how?"
Light made one last stroke over Carly before turning around. "I fear the answer to that. Winona, would you shut Protoman down?"
Winona looked to the back of Doctor Light's head. "Shut him down...?" Her eyes welled with tears again. "Proto...? Do you mind...? I don't want you to-"
"S'fi-i-i-i-ine." His words were curt, glitched. "I'm a da-anger to myself-f-f-f."
Winona smiled weakly and leaned down to reach under his head. His skin had more or less shifted into a less uncanny place on his head. His dull green eyes were focused on the cut on her cheek. "I know, Proto." His eyes shifted up to hers and she nodded. His eyes closed slowly and she couldn't stop herself. She leaned down to kiss his forehead as she pulled the cover off of his emergency shutdown switch. She tilted her head so that the bridge of her nose rested on Proto's forehead.
