Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part One

Things settled nicely in the years after Dr. Wily.

Nature abhors a vacuum, and there were still times he was called into action. Those times were few and far between, however, and really almost nothing could hold a candle to the trouble Wily caused. More and more the blue bomber found himself being addressed as 'Rock' instead of 'Mega Man'.

He'd worried that Break Man would continue to drift away, without the constant battling that kept bringing his brother in— and out— of his life. As it turned out, they ended up seeing each other more. Break Man had come to the same realization, and made an honest attempt to bridge the gap. Mega Man would never be wise to all of Break Man's business, but he was thrilled to find himself uncovering more about the private life of 'Blues' Light.

Even just learning the name he used for his 'civilian' persona was groundbreaking.

Roll continued to adjust nicely. Ironically, as Break Man became (relatively) open and sociable, Roll grew more private and independent, building her own life outside of Dr. Light's. She made friends with people Mega Man had never met, pursued hobbies that the boys had never tried. With exceptional foresight, she continued to delve into the complexities of robotics from Dr. Light and Dr. Cossack, so that in the future she could support both her brothers' and her own needs. Roll likewise took up training, teasing Mega Man that someday she'd like to tag along, perhaps on one of his off-planet adventures.

On a larger scale, there was a shift in interest towards robotics. It seemed that even with Dr. Light's anti-reprogramming chip, experts and hobbyists alike were still nervous about trying their hands at developing and building robots. With Wily out of the picture, the industry flourished. Not towards more human-like androids like Trigger, or more autonomous ones like Bass or Zero. No… what captured the world's eye was entertainment. Gladiatorial tournaments featured robots that resembled punk dystopian tanks or fantastical beasts, encouraging a shift towards non-human robots.

A handful of scientists still pursued the goal of a human-like android. None would accomplish what Wily had, or even come close. Disappointment bred discouragement, and that particular field of robotics would flounder for a very long time. Zero's envisioned future wouldn't even begin until Dr. Cain discovered X, which was quite a ways off.

Bass disappeared for a couple years. Mega Man would get the occasional clue that he was still around— namely, when the police or military would hail Mega Man and he'd get there only to find the threat neutralized. Sometimes it was Break Man, beating him to the punch. But other times there was a level of collateral damage that could only be achieved by someone with no concern for property or the environment. Someone who was sloppy. Someone who was in a rush because they were supposed to be in hiding but couldn't resist the chance to brawl.

The fact he was able to stay off the radar without Wily's support was… curious. Mega Man had his suspicions, but he knew all too well it was pointless to ask Break Man about it.

"No! Not the saw blade, you stupid machine!"

Roll was screaming at the display screen as if the contestants in the show could hear her. She jumped up and down, frantic that her favorite battle-bot was losing this one. It had done so well this season, but was about to blow the championship.

It was everything Mega Man wanted out of life: he was in his own home, with Dr. Light, Roll, and Break Man. Sure, they were all captivated by the netshow streaming on the screen, but what the heck.

"Woah, settle down Roll," he teased. "You know those fights are fixed, right?"

Break Man let out a dry chuckle. "Bass said the exact same thing. Word for word."

Mega Man shot him a questioning look, opened his mouth to ask, then thought better of it.

His brother smirked and said nothing.

Mega Man regarded his sister Roll as she practiced for battle on offline Sniper Joes.

"You should take the test, get your legal independence," he said.

She didn't look up from what she was doing. No armor yet, but at her request Dr. Light had upgraded Roll with her own Mega-Buster style arm cannon. The lifeless Wily 'bot exploded from the charged plasma blast.

"Mm, no thanks."

"No? But… why not?" When Roll didn't respond, he hesitantly continued. "Dr. Light won't be around forever, you know."

She shot him a wry grin.

"What's wrong, Mega Man, are you worried I'm going to end up a drifter renegade like your best frenemy?"

"'Frenemy'?" He echoed, then shook his head. "Actually, no. I'm worried you're going to end up in the hands of someone who doesn't respect your sentience. A part of somebody's collection, or reprogrammed by a novice who doesn't know any better, or… worse."

Another Joe blew up and she stopped, losing the cannon. "I see you haven't taken a look at Dr. Light's will recently."

He blinked in surprise.

"…oh. It… it's all going to me, isn't it? Including you."

"Um, no, it's all going to Break Man. Not everything's about you, you know."

"But what does Break Man even..?"

Roll winked and Mega Man realized that she was just messing with him.

"Well…" he said, "it would still make me feel better if you had your independence. What if something happens to me? Why leave anything to chance?"

"Mega Man, I won't meet the requirements."

"Are you kidding? It's easy! You have nothing to worry about."

"It's easy for you. But you and Break Man are the gold standard. I'm… not the same."

He couldn't believe what she was saying. "Roll, come on. Dr. Light said with a few modifications that Bass could pass, and you already have more freedom than he does."

"This may come as a shock, but Dr. Light is not infallible. I'm telling you— as the one who's living it— no amount of mods will ever be enough. We'll never have complete autonomy." There was resignation in her voice.

He wanted to argue, to convince her she was wrong.

Only he wasn't entirely convinced himself.

Break Man was hesitant as he entered the lab, and it was clear that something was eating at him.

"Dr. Light. I needed to talk to you about… Well, I'll just cut to the chase. It's about— reprogramming."

"Okay." Dr. Light's eyebrows shot up in surprise, although his voice was steady.

Break Man was glowering behind his shades. "Not for me."

"Of course not. You're asking for 'a friend'."

"Don't get cute," he replied. "You know what I'm asking about."

"Right. I thought you two weren't friends."

It was hard to stay mad, and he laughed. "You got me there. Look, it's—  we keep having these weirdly circular conversations. Conversations that get really abstract. There's a lot of hypothetical 'if a robot like Roll' or heck, sometimes 'like Trigger', but never 'like me'…" Break Man looked down, uneasy with this thing he'd been saddled with. "Anyway. He'll talk about what things need to happen for these imaginary 'bots to gain their freedom, then insist he doesn't care about any of it."

Dr. Light nodded slowly and wove his fingers together. "If you're asking me to confirm your suspicions, then yes. You're right, Bass can't directly request changes to his programming, much less turn himself over for it. I can't speak authoritatively… but in your heart, you already know what is being asked of you."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." He sighed. "You know this puts me in a really awkward position, right? Shoot. He knows how I feel, why couldn't he pull this stunt on someone else…"

"Because he trusts you," Dr. Light said gently. "Do you want my opinion?"

"It's why I'm here."

"I'm willing to help in any way. …Personally? I think you should give your friend Kalinka a call."

Dr. Cossack nearly jumped out of his skin when a sudden whistle announced Break Man materializing in his lab. It wasn't the first time he'd unexpectedly shown up, but it was always startling. Dr. Cossack took it as an honor though, and in a way it was. There were very few people that Break Man put confidence in for anything.

This time he was not alone.

"Oh dear," Dr. Cossack said, glancing at the black and gold robot slung across Break Man's shoulders. "What happened?"

It was a pretty funny sight actually, because Bass was taller and heavier than him and it showed. The fact that Break Man was dressed casually and appeared to be quite young just made it that much sillier.

"Eh, this knucklehead was tampering with his power supply and managed to short himself out. Looks like it was a faulty connection." He paused. "Can you help him?"

The doctor chuckled. "I'd think you could take care of such a simple…" He drifted off mid-sentence, and coughed. "Um, Break Man. What… exactly… is it you're asking of me?"

Break Man shifted to free up an arm, and tilted his shades down. He looked Dr. Cossack in the eye, fixing him with a steady gaze. After a long pause, he pushed the shades back into place.

"I'm asking if you can… help."

"Ah. I see." Dr. Cossack gestured for Break Man to follow him to another room. "Yes, I believe I can. Let's see, up here…" He gave Break Man a hand with getting Bass off his back and onto a free table, which was unnecessary, but appreciated never less. "You're a good friend."

"Oh, we're not friends." Break Man was deadpan, but then he offered a slight smile. "You can count the number of sentient robots on one hand, so we ought to look out for each other. Besides, I realized…"

He paused, unsure if to continue. To his credit Dr. Cossack did not press.

"…as much as Mega Man appreciates my help, he doesn't need it. Not really. By the time I found my way back home, I… well… he was doing just fine on his own." While it was true he'd helped Mega Man out of a lot of jams, the fact was, he'd gotten him into trouble just as many times. "The 'blue bomber' loves having a big brother around, but the 'black blunderer' actually needed one. And it's a lot easier to put up with Bass's crap when you start thinking of him as your obnoxious baby brother." He shrugged. "Everything else aside, I'm still the first. Without me there's no Robot Masters, no Mega Man or Roll, no Bass. When you're the oldest, you have a responsibility to look after the rest of the kids. Even if they're terrible."

"As the baby of my family, I assure you, it's the youngest child's responsibility to be a pain in the butt."

Break Man laughed.

"You're a good brother," Dr. Cossack added.

He looked at Bass and then at the doctor. "Thanks." Then he reached out, briefly placing a hand on the scientist's arm. "Dr. Cossack, for my sake, don't… don't do anything that would change who he is."

"I wouldn't dream it. Don't worry, Break Man. I'm well versed in the Humanoid Robot Act and the political landscape that surrounds it…" He paused. "More importantly, I know what needs to be done to game the system. Rest assured, I'll do nothing more and nothing less."

Break Man looked grim. It was clear that even the veiled conversation about reprogramming someone else was making him uncomfortable.

"Yeah… yeah. Thank you."

"It'll be okay, I promise."

"Congratulations!"

"For what?"

Mega Man was taken aback. 

"What do you mean 'for what'?"

Break Man had explained the situation to him: how Dr. Cossack had done some deft politicking, convincing the powers that be that since he'd reprogrammed Bass, the robot was no longer an agent of Dr. Wily. It got Bass off the hook for— well, pretty much his entire history of misdeeds, since Wily was legally responsible for all Bass's previous actions— and temporarily put the burden of responsibility on Dr. Cossack's shoulders. That part was a little annoying, actually. Sometimes Mega Man felt like the law only worked when it came to himself, and failed when it came to actual criminals.

The Russian scientist was a real stand up guy for doing all of that and asking nothing in return. Still, it had merely been a stop-gap until Bass could earn his legal agency by taking the test to prove he had free-will.

In light of the occasion, Mega Man had dropped in at Dr. Cossack's lab.

"Oh— yeah, I skipped that stupid test. I don't need some stuffed suits telling me what I already know. Who even cares about that junk?"

Break Man padded in from the other room, having heard enough of the conversation, and was gesturing a rapid 'cut' motion in an attempt to get his younger brother to drop the subject.

It was too late. Mega Man was too incredulous to let this go.

"Uh, everyone? Everyone cares. Don't you realize the effect it'll—" Too late, the obvious hit him, and in surprise he said the worst possible thing that he could've: the truth. "You flunked it, didn't you?"

Bass was stone-faced but Mega Man could tell that this had been a terrible blow to his pride.

"It's not like it matters. I've got nothing to prove to anyone."

Oh, but it mattered a great deal.

Mega Man found himself walking over to a row of cabinets so he could lean against the counter. Break Man approached and then jumped up, sitting on the countertop next to him.

It was… well it was not good. This complicated things. Bass had already spent the last two years avoiding the law, it wasn't fair and it didn't do him, or anyone really, any good and…

"What are you going to do now?"

This earned a shrug. "Guess I'm with Dr. Cossack."

That left Mega Man with an uneasy sinking feeling. Yes, Dr. Cossack was a good man and given the circumstances, this was the best possible outcome for Bass. But 'I'm with' really meant 'belong to' and in the eyes of the law Bass was no different than a toaster or a hovercar. It was wrong on a deep and fundamental level. Wasn't it? He wasn't alive but…

The only reason any of this was even happening now was because Dr. Wily had died. What if something happened to Dr. Cossack? Old age would eventually be that something, anyway. Mega Man had no idea if there was an upper limit to his and Break Man's lives, if senescence was even possible for bioroids, but he did know that with proper maintenance and barring any accidents Bass and Roll would be functionally immortal.

Functionally immortal and legally toasters. How unjust. It was such a crock of—

"How's the N-Team doing?" Break Man disrupted his train of thought.

"Oh, uh, they're good."

"Think they've got anything interesting going on? I don't know about you two, but I'm kind of itching for a fight." Words he never thought he'd hear Break Man say, even though he knew it was for Bass's sake.

"Yeah, let's go blow some stuff up," said Bass, trying not to sound excited.

Mega Man laughed. "I'm sure we can find someone somewhere who needs saving… or needs something blown up."

Chapter Text

'Family' was a concept that meant different things to different people.

There was the family that you're born into. The one that's built, sought-out, a connection made with someone to grow old with. The one that's grown, the family born to you. The kind that's found, friends who become brothers and sisters, surrogate parents and children.

Then there was the 'I never asked for this' family, like when a childish, uncooperative, good for nothing robot gets dropped into your lap.

What Dr. Cossack had signed up for was to do some reprogramming, do some negotiations, and send Bass on his merry way. What he was dealing with now was an enormous permanent legal responsibility. A normal robot could be ordered around, could be controlled. Bass was not a normal robot. It put Dr. Cossack in a very difficult position, because he didn't want to take away what freedom that he had…

…but unlike Wily, Dr. Cossack was a law-abiding citizen and Bass was, frankly, the sort of liability that could easily bankrupt him…

…or possibly land him jail.

Who risks their freedom and livelihood on a machine? A machine that was potentially dangerous (not to mention rude)? A machine he didn't build and didn't ask for?

At the same time, he was a scientist and an engineer, with a strong passion for robotics. This one easily outclassed anything he'd ever built. Dr. Cossack now possessed something remarkably unique, and this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to study and learn.

He wrote a list. The pros, the cons. Every possible option for handling this situation; the best and worst case scenarios. The truth was: it was grim. He could strip some of Bass's autonomy. He could unload him off onto Dr. Light, or even sell him. He could permanently deactivate him.

Or he could cross his fingers, hope for the best, and live with the risk.

It was such a risk, though. Even when fighting on the 'heroes' side, Bass usually left a mile-long streak of destruction in his wake. It was a miracle he hadn't accidentally killed anyone. The property damage alone— how on Earth was Dr. Cossack going to insure this robot?

For the time being, he would leave things as they were. Feel it out. See what direction the wind took them.

"I suppose… you'll want your own room," he said when Bass drifted into the lab, returning from heaven knows what.

He was used to the idea that Mega Man and Break Man had sentience and free will and emotions, but deep down inside he still expected them to obey their creator. That it was Dr. Light who really called the shots. The fact they usually did— not as a robot obeys a command, but rather like an obedient child who listens to their parent— had made it difficult to truly appreciate the fact they had complete independence.

The idea that Bass could make his own decisions and might refuse to listen to Dr. Cossack… that was going to take some getting used to. Dr. Cossack figured it might help to treat him as if he were human, and having thought it over, offering Bass his own room seemed like it would start things off on the right foot.

"Huh?"

"A room. For yourself."

Bass tilted his head, confused. "You know I don't sleep, right? You do know that."

"Not for sleeping, for…" Dr. Cossack gestured vaguely. "Privacy. A place to express yourself. To keep your personal things."

"Huh? Do— what now?" He laughed. "What 'personal things'? Okay, let's see. I snagged Wily's cool tie— you know, the one with the skeleton. The looters don't deserve it. That, and his watch. It doesn't keep time, it needs serviced, but it's the only thing he really… it… um. I think it was his father's, or a gift from him." Bass shrugged. "Then there's that ridiculous Buzzards jersey Break Man gave me. See, we went to this football game and— you know what, it's a stupid story, forget I said anything."

Dr. Cossack stared at him. This was not what he'd expected.

Feeling that he'd made things awkward, Bass tried to reach some kind of point. "What I'm saying is, I don't need a room, I need… an empty copy-paper box and a label maker."

"Hmmm," Dr. Cossack replied. "Think about how you want to decorate your room."

He'd seen Break Man's room, Mega Man's room, Dr. Light's. Dr. Cossack's and his daughter Kalinka's, even though she was off at college, her things were as she'd left them. 

Roll hadn't had a room back when they were trapped at Dr. Light's laboratory. With everything going on with Zero at the time, Dr. Light hadn't been able to address it. No doubt he'd set her up with her own personal space once things settled down.

Wily's had always been spartan. A bed, a lamp, a glass of water.

Studying the four blank walls and single window, Bass hadn't the slightest clue what to do with the space.

He considered asking Break Man, or maybe Desirée or Lyric, for ideas… then decided against it. Still drawing a blank, he made a point to go into the room every day, look at it, think about it.

But there was nothing.

Wily had almost always ate at his workspace, usually while working.

Dr. Cossack cooked, he set a place at the small dinner table, with a placemat and salad fork and everything, sat down, and had a proper meal.

It'd been less than two weeks since they found themselves in this predicament, when Bass came into the dining area and sat down. (It wasn't its own room, but a section of the kitchen.) He prudently used Kalinka's chair— discerning from the wear and the floor marks which was her's— instead of Svetlana's.

"Ah, hello…" Dr. Cossack said uneasily. "Did… did you…"

"Do I get a say?" Bass asked casually.

"Pardon?"

"Your list."

Dr. Cossack was mortified.

"Because if I do have some say, I'd much rather be deactivated than lose any of my independence. Also, there's some options you missed. I could disappear, go back into exile. You could report me as stolen property— which would be sort of true."

"I— I didn't mean for you to see that—"

"It's fine. It's not your fault that I couldn't… well, whatever. I get it."

Every part of this was strange, but what struck Dr. Cossack most was how odd it was that Bass— a robot!— was trying not to appear anxious and despite his efforts very obviously was.

There was a long, painfully awkward silence as they sat there looking at each other.

Then there was a loud snap and Kalinka's chair gave out beneath him and deposited Bass onto the floor.

He was back on his feet in a flash, and while Dr. Cossack was amused, Bass was livid. "Lousy human furniture! This is the second time some flimsy fricken' junk broke under me, stupid cheap piece of—!"

"In the chair's defense, you're quite dense," Dr. Cossack said as he chuckled quietly to himself.

Bass grabbed one of the chair legs and stood there fuming, unsure what to do. If it'd been Wily, he would've chucked it in his general direction, but he didn't have that sort of contentious relationship with Dr. Cossack. Instead, he snapped the wood rod over his knee.

Then he started to calm down and seemed, if not exactly embarrassed, at least a little sheepish. "Didn't mean to break your stupid chair," he muttered. It wasn't quite an apology.

"Note to self: get sturdier furniture," Dr. Cossack replied, teasing. Then he grew solemn. "I don't know what the right course is. Writing down my options, making that list, was to help me decide what to do… but it hasn't helped, I still haven't made any decision." He hesitated, prodding a piece of broccoli with his fork. "I won't lie. I considered each and every option on that list. But I feel that… restricting your freedom, forcing you to be obedient… would be cruel." Looking up, he offered Bass a wan smile. "I'd like to believe I am not a cruel man."

He felt the look that Bass gave him— settling like a weight in his gut. Incredulity, yearning. Wanting to trust Dr. Cossack and afraid to. 

"Would it help if I promised?"

"Yeah."

"Well then." Dr. Cossack placed his hand over his heart. "I swear upon my mother's grave that I will not rob you of your autonomy."

It didn't get the reaction he was expecting. Bass inched backwards, expression unreadable.

"Did, did you—?" Except he saw how confused Dr. Cossack was, and realized that no, this was just a coincidence. He laughed uneasily. "See, this one time— I asked Wily to swear on his mother's grave, which was how I learned Oma is still around…" He hadn't meant to mention her to anyone and scrambled. "A-anyway. I thought maybe you had… reviewed my memories or something."

"No." Dr. Cossack raised his eyebrows. Then he started to laugh at the absurdity. "I could show you her grave, if it helps."

"Hah, no, that's okay…"

"Good, because it's a long flight back to my homeland."

He smirked. "That's what teleportation's for, dummy."

Bass ended up painting the walls with tessellations, complex interlinking geometric patterns. It reminded Dr. Cossack of zellige mosaic art and fractals.

Exploring art for the first time in his 'life' and with a bit of encouragement from Break Man, he moved on to making polyhedral models, using scrap metal from the lab or origami or occasionally the 3D plastic printer. (Break Man's methods were highly effective: loudly betting with Mega Man that Bass couldn't do it. This tactic never failed.) They soon littered the floor, until Dr. Cossack insisted on putting up shelves. The only piece of furniture to go in his room— he had no use for a bed or dresser or any of those things— Bass picked something glass and very modern, almost Scandinavian. When the shelves were full, he hung some of the models from the ceiling.

When Kalinka came to visit during the Alvis Day holiday break, she admired the intricate mural. "Love the colors!" 

Dr. Cossack had thought they were too dark— so much purple and black. He didn't say anything, but Bass could tell.

"Where'd you get the pattern from? It looks like something you'd find in a Moorish temple."

He was confused.

"It's my design." He watched as Kalinka started tracing the pattern with her finger. "And yeah, it does. I think they're onto something there. You can see it sometimes, in numbers and equations…"

"See what?"

He was at a loss how to explain it. "Something bigger."

But Kalinka seemed to understand.

She noticed but didn't comment on the fact that there were only two chairs at the table, and took her mother's seat. With a grin, Kalinka propped her chin on the palm of her hand. "I'm glad you're not alone here. I knew it was going to be rough on you when I moved out."

These days he often entertained lady guests at the house, but he didn't want her to know. He wasn't looking to remarry, so there was no reason to complicate his daughter's life with his short-lived affairs.

Dr. Cossack cleared his throat and nodded. "I still miss you."

"I know." She kept smiling and reached over to pat his arm.

"But you're enjoying yourself? You like your school, your new roommate?"

"For the thousandth time, yes. I love it. All of it."

He looked at her critically, studying her reaction. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Of course she had, but none of them had been serious yet, so there was no reason to complicate her father's life with her short-lived romances.

"Not to speak of."

He raised an eyebrow but let the topic drop.

"How are your classes going?"

She was acing most of them. Economics was a bit of a struggle. "Of all the options, I had to go and pick that one. I don't see what we need these silly core classes for anyway."

"I'm surprised, I thought you'd do well in—"

"It's not the subject," she admitted. "It's the teacher. She's nice enough, but she's going through a divorce and, er… it seems like it's pretty messy. She keeps forgetting to give us due dates on assignments, or is unclear on what we're actually supposed to do, and… well… she'll go on these tirades about how men are dogs…"

Dr. Cossack laughed. "Believe me, you're not the first student to get a teacher like that. You'll pull through." He reached over to pat her arm. "I'm always available if you need help."

"I know, I know!"

After dinner Kalinka helped clear off the table, and then dried the dishes as he washed them.

"I don't know yet if Bass is staying," he said, somewhat abruptly.

She hesitated, sensing there was a deeper issue. "What makes you say that?"

"Well… it's…" He had a conflicted look, lips pursed. "There's a great deal of risk involved. I can't control him, but I am still legally accountable for his actions. If he smashes through a building or crushes a car, if someone got hurt… or heaven forbid, killed…"

"…It's on you." Kalinka sighed, setting down the cup and dish rag. She leaned against the counter, staring at the swirling pattern of the granite. "Do you know, he said something to me the other day about sensing the divine in mathematics?"

Dr. Cossack had no idea how to respond to that.

Kalinka surprised Bass when she went to say goodbye, before heading back to school.

"I got you a 'welcome' gift."

Before he could say 'what?' she revealed the present she was holding behind her back. It was a stuffed animal, a wolfy looking dog that she had dyed purple, leaving her fingers discolored and the back of her shirt ruined.

"Er…"

Kalinka shoved it into his hands.

Bass stared in bewilderment.

"Well? It's cute and it looks like your dog, right?"

When he didn't respond, Dr. Cossack shot him a stern glance. "What do you say?"

"…This is the second stupidest thing anyone has ever given me."

The dye was transferring onto his hands, too. What a mess.

She chuckled. "My understanding is that it's the second thing anyone has ever given you, period."

He shrugged.

"It looks kind of like Treble." Then, after thinking about it for a second, "I guess it's 'cute'."

"Bass," said Dr. Cossack.

"Thanks, Kalinka. …this is the most thoughtful thing anyone's given me."

This earned another laugh—

—and then she threw her arms around him. Bass was horrified. It was the first time anyone had hugged him.

When Kalinka broke away and straightened back up, the front of her shirt was stained with purple dye. Some of it had even managed to get onto the blue gem on Bass's armor.

"Aw man! This shirt is done for. What a mess."

Then she looked at Bass, frozen in mortal terror, and cracked up.

"Wow, the look on your face right now!"

That snapped him out of it. "I'mgoingtomyroomgoodbye." He spoke so fast all the words ran together, and then stiffly hurried off.

"See?" Dr. Cossack called after him. "For privacy!"

A few days later Dr. Cossack found himself in Bass's room, examining one of his models. A multitude of little pieces of paper methodically folded into diamond shapes, interlocking with each other to form a faceted globe. Delicate and created with care by someone who was ostensibly a weapon of destruction.

"Triacontahedron," said Bass. "It's not as flashy as some of the others, but each facet has the golden ratio, which is kind of neat."

He startled, dropping the model, and glanced over at Bass, leaning in the doorway. Bending over, he picked it up and tossed it to the Wily 'bot.

There was still so much he was uncertain about. It felt surreal asking, but he forced himself to anyway.

"Do you want to stay here?"

"What I want is to find an alternate timeline where Wily is still alive, then to beat my counterpart and take his place. Barring that, I want the same thing everyone else has: independence."

"Hmmm." Dr. Cossack stroked his chin in thought. "There's one little problem. If that alternate Bass is otherwise identical, then the only possible outcome would be for you to destroy each other."

Bass laughed, then answered earnestly. "I don't know what I want. I'm tired of being on the run. Getting stuck with Dr. Light isn't very appealing, but I also don't like the idea of… being a burden." He looked at the model, turning it slowly in his hands. "Wily didn't have the decency to let me off his leash before he died. These last few years I thought that— that with just a few minor changes to my programming, I'd be able to— to get—"

In a fit of rage, Bass crumpled up the origami model and flung it against the far wall. It rebounded and bounced on the carpet a few times, coming to a stop near his feet. He took a half-step into the room and stomped on it.

"I never had to worry about any of this crap when he was alive!"

When Dr. Cossack didn't say anything, he sagged.

"…Yeah. If you're willing to put up with me, that is."

"It beats the alternatives," Dr. Cossack replied.

This time his laugh was a bitter one. "Exactly."

Rather than replace Kalinka's chair or the whole set, Dr. Cossack had it repaired, although the new leg on the front left was a quarter-shade lighter than the rest. He was sentimental and the dining set had been one of the first things Svetlana picked out once they'd arrived from overseas. Originally it came with four chairs, but the fourth one had long since disappeared.

The new fourth chair didn't quite match the set. The design was similar, but a little off. At first glance, they were all white, but on closer inspection this one had the unmistakable shine of plastic, versus the soft matte paint of the other three.

Bass eyed it warily.

"Industrial polycarbonate resin. Rated for up to one thousand pounds," Dr. Cossack said with a wink. "You and all three of Dr. Light's robots could sit on it at once, and it should hold."

"What, like on each other's laps? Or shoulders?"

"Either way." He straightened his placemat, laying out the silverware. "You know, when Kalinka is home, we always have dinner together and she'll tell me about her day."

"Blech."

Dr. Cossack laughed as he brought over his salad and dinner plate, then took a seat.

With a great deal of trepidation, Bass joined him at the table. He hunched forward slightly, hands besides his knees, clutching the edge of the chair.

"It's not high enough for you, da? I have some old manuals we could stack on the seat to give you a boost."

Bass shot him a look of disgust. "Very funny." Then he shook his head. "This is too silly. I can't do it."

"Okay. Maybe we can try again tomorrow," Dr. Cossack said as Bass got up to leave. "Keep trying until it doesn't feel silly anymore."

Standing there with one hand still on the top rail, he looked from Dr. Cossack to the chair and back. "Um, does… this mean…?" He couldn't finish that thought.

"I haven't come to any final decision, no… but for now, at least," he gestured, "a chair that won't break."

"Okay." Bass actually grinned as he headed out. "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe. No promises."

"No promises," Dr. Cossack agreed.

Chapter Text

Inevitably Dr. Cossack found himself being pulled deeper into the sphere of Break Man's support network. He was one of the longest standing members of that exclusive group, but he'd also been the most isolated. So he was delighted when Officer Giertz was able to reach out to him.

They'd actually met before, peripherally, because Dr. Cossack had worked with the robotics crime division in the past. While their numbers had increased after Zero, you could still count the department on one hand.

"Such a charming accent. You're Australian?"

"Kiwi here," she replied with a smile.

"Of course, my apologies. It's a beautiful country, very scenic."

"Just don't make any cracks about sheep," Bass warned. "She gets punchy."

Dr. Cossack laughed. "I'll try to resist the urge."

"And no funny business. You're not her type."

"You don't say." He winked knowingly at Giertz. "Don't worry, we'll keep things strictly professional."

"Also, I'm married," Giertz said sternly to Bass.

"Also, she's married," he repeated. Then he gave her a strange look. "Dr. Cossack 'gets around'."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"Wily never did any of that kind of stuff with other people." Apparently Bass had gone on a tangent. "Like dating or whatever. Dr. Cossack drinks too, vodka, then goes on and on and on about Kalinka or his dead wife. Wily never drank. Sometimes he'd take stimulants, you know, to get through a project." It'd been a nasty little habit Dr. Wily had picked up in college. "He never smoked either, but Dr. Cossack does, usually after entertaining some—"

"Bass," Giertz said, cutting him off. "That's not really your business to share."

Dr. Cossack chuckled. "It's alright, I don't mind. None of what he's said is exactly secret."

"And he swears in Russian sometimes, but I'm fluent in all major languages."

"Scandalous." With that, Giertz laughed and gave Dr. Cossack a grin. "So tell me more about this vodka you've got stashed somewhere."

In theory, they were on the same side these days… or at least, no longer on opposite sides.

In practice, Mega Man and Bass still had an uneasy, tumultuous relationship.

As far as Bass was concerned fighting with Mega Man was still his main hobby. Half of their so-called 'team ups' ended with Bass pressuring him to fight… or even outright attacking. About a quarter of the time, he didn't even wait for the original threat to be neutralized before going after Mega Man.

The other twenty-five percent would be those times when Bass won against their actual opponent, and was too full of himself to hassle Mega Man. There were some occasions where Mega Man purposely let him win, just so he wouldn't have to deal with him afterwards. It was tricky, because he couldn't be too obvious about it.

This was not one of those times.

Roll gasped in surprise when the two of them teleported into the lab, with Bass more or less dragging the badly injured Mega Man. He aggressively hauled him onto a table.

"Ow! Would it kill you to use a little care?"

"Yes," Bass replied, deadpan. He wasn't in great shape either, but nowhere near Mega Man's sorry state.

Roll was there in an instant, examining the extent of the blue bomber's injuries. "Dr. Light's out on a conference," she said. "Hold on a second." She darted out of the room, and was back in moments with energy tanks for both robots. "What did you get into?"

"It was some kind of military defense machine that went haywire," Mega Man replied.

"A robotic tank," added Bass, unable to hide his excitement. The tank had been a serious challenge, which Mega Man gladly could've done without, but was the kind of thing Bass lived for. "I beat it and had to save this loser at the same time."

Considering all the times Mega Man had rescued him from certain doom, Bass could've been a lot more gracious. Could have.

Roll took a moment to page Dr. Light, then set to work— not that there was very much for her to do, just support and pain management so that Mega Man's body could repair itself. Indifferent, she listened to Bass's version of the story, which was a gross oversimplification and not entirely accurate version of events. Mega Man was too tired to argue about it, he'd give Roll the full scoop later.

"How's Dr. Cossack doing?"

"He's fine."

"How about Kalinka?"

Bass shrugged. "She's getting good grades."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Ugh." Roll groaned and shook her head, then started asking about the scientist's latest projects. While he wasn't exactly passionate about the subject, Bass was perfectly capable of understanding Dr. Cossack's work and carrying a conversation about it. Heck, how many years had he been Wily's only sounding board?

Mega Man started to pep up, joining in with some thoughtful observations or the occasional quip. He'd cracked a joke along the lines of 'it's not the size of the chip, it's the processing power', and in spite of the corniness they all laughed, and for one quiet moment things were… pleasant.

Then Bass started making a small rasping 'kk-kk-kkt' sound— internally, not vocally. He caught the edge of the table that Mega Man was on as he collapsed, before falling hard to the ground.

Mega Man jumped down to help Roll. "Quick, shut him down." Then—

The world instantly blinked back into existence, just as sudden as it had gone.

"Hey stupid," Roll said. "I need to see how this program is interacting with your system, but you don't need to be awake for this. If you want I can turn off your negligible cognitive functions."

"Nah, it's okay." Bass propped himself up on his elbows, looking with curiosity at his open chest panel and the heavy duty connectors that linked him to one of Dr. Light's computer terminals. "What happened?"

"A computer virus," Mega Man replied. "A pretty nasty one at that."

"How come you weren't infected?"

"I guess my 'immune system' was able to fight it off before it could take hold." It was a little surreal, honestly, he was used to being on the other side of this kind of thing.

"Nope," Roll said. "This was designed to search for certain coding signatures. It only targets—"

"Dr. Wily's programming." Bass laughed and then gave Mega Man a baleful look. "See? This is what I get for trying."

Mega Man, however, was lost in thought. "That tank was a military weapon. It must have originally been built to defend against one of Wily's attacks and it… sat in storage all these years? They decide to repurpose it, and no one thinks to delete this auxiliary virus weapon. I wonder if the tank was even meant for defense, or if it was built to deliver the 'package' right to Wily's fortress…"

"In that case I'm kinda impressed. Still ticked, but also impressed."

There was a lull as Roll worked, occasionally clicking her tongue or shaking her head. She had far more experience with hardware than she did software, and like Dr. Light, she was used to Mega Man's self-repair doing the heavy lifting.

"Anything from Dr. Light?" She asked Mega Man, but he shook his head 'no'. Then she glanced at Bass. "I put out a call to Dr. Cossack too, but didn't get a response…" She fell silent, and after a few minutes started grumbling quietly.

"I'm going to die." Bass didn't seem concerned, just annoyed.

"You can't die if you're not alive," Mega Man teased, although he shot a worried glance at Roll.

"He's fine," she said, exasperated, but it was hard to tell if she meant it or was just saying that to shut them up.

At that Bass sat all the way up, a devious expression on his face. "Hey. They can put me in the Robot Museum, but only if they put up a plaque that says: 'The Greatest Robot Ever Built'" He made a sweeping gesture as he said it. "Otherwise, I want to be plated in copper and put over Wily's grave like a statue."

"Oh, well I was thinking… you're made out of that MIRA stuff, the living metal from Signal's planet, right?" Mega Man tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't help breaking into a goofy grin as he continued. "Dr. Light could recycle it to make some killer upgrades for me and Break Man. Then you'd always be with us."

"Ugggghhhh." Bass gave him a look of complete and utter disgust, then turned his head to the side and pantomimed vomiting. "Why. Why would you say that. Ugh!"

More time passed— Bass realized his internal clock was down, so he didn't know how much— and things were getting progressively worse. "Can you find Break Man? I don't want to go out like this, I want to be fighting. Tell him I'll let him win this one, since it's just for show."

Mega Man held his hands up in dismay. "You know I'm right here, right?"

"He's fine," Roll repeated, only to be ignored.

"Hmph. Like I'd give you the honor of finishing me off."

The blue robot slapped his forehead and groaned. Seconds later he cried out in horror when Bass suddenly shut down and toppled over.

"Oh, sorry," Roll said cheerfully. "I probably should've said something before cutting his power."

When he came back online the second time, Bass could tell the virus was gone. Roll stood over him, looking decidedly smug.

"Unfortunately, I was able to save your miserable life. You're welcome."

"Thanks…?" He sat up, instinctively checking his access panel, but she'd already taken care of it.

"There's still some data corruption. Dr. Cossack will take over from here and get you back in working order."

"You finally got hold of him?"

"By the time he got the com notice, Roll had already deleted the virus," Mega Man said. "I can't believe that we still haven't heard from Dr. Light."

"I can't believe you almost got me destroyed," Bass muttered.

"What!"

"I wouldn't have caught that stupid virus if I hadn't been there doing your job and saving your butt."

For a half-second Mega Man looked offended, but then he grinned. "Now I know you're okay."

"Don't get it twisted," said Roll, "Bass is so bereft of intellect and character that you could scramble half his circuits and never see a difference."

Bass sneered and was about to say something, then thought better of it. "Never mind. Look, I'm out. I'd say it's been fun, but frankly, it's been anything but." He hopped down from the table and then teleported.

"I do not understand why you still hang out with that guy," Roll said to her brother.

"Come on."

Mega Man blinked in surprise. Break Man was in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was dressed casually, a roguish look on his face.

"Er, sorry, I must have forgotten…" Honestly, he had no idea what his brother was talking about, and tried desperately to remember what it might be.

"You said you'd wanted to go out. So, come on, let's go."

The response was vague and nebulous and perfect. Grinning, Mega Man headed for the door, then paused. He'd been working in the lab and was wearing some pretty grungy work clothes, replete with grease stains and holes, the hem of his tee shirt partially unraveled. "Hang on, let me change first."

After leaving Dr. Light's lab they caught the monorail, riding atop the roof of the passenger cars just like old times.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

He thought it over for a few moments. "Soccer field?"

"Sure."

They hadn't brought a ball, so they'd stopped to pick one after getting off the train.

It wasn't much of a soccer game, seeing how it was only the two of them. Even just two more people would've made a more satisfying competition, and Mega Man found himself wondering how realistic it'd be to try and convince Roll and Bass to join them. (Very unrealistic, if he was being honest.) At first he treated it as nothing more than play, but Break Man gave his all, and Mega Man stepped it up. If nothing else, it was interesting to see how their individual fighting skills translated to sports, and a reminder that although they were built of the same design, the eldest was just not as 'athletic' as the younger brother.

After kicking the ball around for a while (score: Mega Man with five points, Break Man with four), they decided to go for something that was actually meant for two players. As they left the field Mega Man rubbed his forehead, where Break Man had managed to nail him right between the eyes. "You did that on purpose."

He put on a look of mock offense. "Me? Never!" Then he fell in step next to Mega Man, throwing an arm across his shoulders. "So, where to next?"

"I don't know… basketball? Tennis? Bowling?"

"Dodge ball?"

"You need more than two players for that."

"Golf?"

"Golf?" Mega Man repeated, incredulous, then realized Break Man was teasing.

"Did you seriously say 'bowling'?"

He shrugged. "It's something two people can play."

"Hoverbike race?"

"Do you have a bike?"

"Nope."

They ended up in a one-on-one game of basketball, because there was a court in the park not far from the field, and the kids playing there let them borrow a ball. There was a tennis net, too, but no rackets and neither of Light 'bot had them (nor the inclination to go back to the store).

"Alright," Break Man said, on their way back to the monorail train. "Next one's my call."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He clearly had something specific in mind. Not only was being cryptic, he spent part of the ride sending written com notes.

But when he wasn't distracted with that, the two of them relaxed, talking and horsing around, soaking in each others company. Mega Man was thinking about trying his hand at DJing, because he enjoyed the club scene but always felt a little self-conscious and out of place, and he enjoyed mixing and editing music. He felt this blended the two together nicely. Break Man went on a lengthy and in-depth tirade about the recent drop in yarn quality, of all things.

"Yarn… like… knitting yarn?"

"What else?"

He couldn't tell if Break Man was joking or not.

They hopped another train when they got to the station, then walked for a bit, then much to Mega Man's surprise, Break Man flagged down a hovercar and hitched a ride.

"It's kind of dangerous for kids your age to be hitchhiking," said the concerned driver. "Do your parents know where you are?"

"Yes, ma'am," Break Man said.

She looked uncertain, glancing back at them in the rear view mirror, but made no further comment.

They got further and further from Light's lab, leaving the outskirts of the city. After another long trek, they went down a dirt driveway onto someone's land. At the end of the road, Bass was waiting by a shed.

"Augh, no! Break Man, why'd you bring him? You've ruined it!"

"Ruined what?"

"Just trust me, would you?" said Break Man, addressing both of them.

Bass sulked while Break Man entered a code and unlocked the door. Inside the shed was an assortment of hand-held weapons. Guns. Something told Mega Man that they weren't harmless light replicas.

"Break Man… these are illegal…"

With a playful smile, he handed him a laser rifle. "Yep. How's it feel to be on the other side of the law?"

Mega Man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with being put on the spot like this. He looked down at the rifle, then up at Break Man, and then back to the rifle… all the while trying to ignore the death glare Bass was giving him.

With an armful of targets and the device to launch them, Break Man headed out. Bass followed, and after a few moments of hesitation, so did Mega Man.

"There's a real firing range, which rents out legal laser guns, not far from—" he started, but then realized what his brother was doing. It wasn't about the sport, or the rush that came from breaking the rules. After spending the day with him, Break Man was bringing him in on something that he and Bass had shared, making a display of trust in front of the Wily 'bot, fostering a sense of camaraderie between the two.

…Plus having fun with target shooting, not to mention the excitement of breaking the rules.

Mega Man looked once more at the rifle in his hands, before propping it on his shoulder.

Well…

Sometimes rules were made to be broken, right?

The fact that Giertz was back in Dr. Cossack's lab was a bad sign. That the two of them where reviewing something on a screen— that was worse. Whatever they were up to involved him, of that Bass had no doubt.

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

Dr. Cossack startled but then offered a warm smile. "Ah, we were, we were going over options for a major overhaul."

"Overhaul?" He didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit.

"Yeh, so you can lose the armor and go out in public like a normal person," said Giertz.

Technically he could go anywhere now, but in his armor was still (understandably) viewed as a dangerous Wily 'bot. So unless he was fighting, he avoided it. He shook his head. "Wait, a chassis rebuild? Why? I don't care about doing 'normal person' stuff like those other morons."

He walked out, muttering to himself about how pathetic Mega Man and Break Man were for trying to be human.

Four minutes later he was back.

"Do you have schematics drawn up already? Could you add tactile sensors?" He peered between them at the monitor, but he definitely wasn't curious about this, no, not at all. "I'll still be taller than Mega Dork, right?"

Giertz laughed.

"It's only a five centimeter difference," Dr. Cossack said, confused… but then he saw the intensity in the robot's eyes. "Yes, you'll still be taller."

"Good."

And things really were.

Chapter Text

Part Two

It was Bass, surprisingly, who suggested Dr. Cossack set up certain conditions— checks and balances. He clearly didn't think they were needed, but seemed to respect that it would give Dr. Cossack some peace of mind.

Less surprising was that he then vehemently argued against every idea brought to the table.

For the next few weeks, every dinner was a heated discussion, a semi-hostile series of negotiations, as they attempted to hash out the terms.

In the end they worked out something similar, but not as inflexible, to what Wily'd had in place. A small update allowed Dr. Cossack to remotely shut off Bass's combat system, as well as peripherals like his com access and teleporter. This was both a safety precaution… and a punishment if needed, because how else could you discipline a robot? While at it, he convinced Bass to let him install an anti-reprogramming chip.

A hard stop prevented Bass from ever physically harming Dr. Cossack. And, like with Wily, he couldn't deny him access to his software. Unlike Wily, Dr. Cossack never abused that authority.

Because he'd been part of the decision and agreed to these new conditions, Bass didn't feel like he was losing any ground, even if it was a step backwards for him.

It was a relief. Dr. Cossack hadn't wanted to force any restrictions on the robot, but he'd been at a loss with how to take charge of the situation, especially given Bass's tendency to be contrary for the sake of being contrary.

"This doesn't mean I've made a final decision," Dr. Cossack told him afterwards.

"'No promises'," Bass said.

"Da. 'No promises'."

It was during one of Kalinka's visits (over summer break) that Roll reconnected with her, and a fast friendship was kick-started by shared interests. Namely: building competitive battle 'bots.

"Okay… we are a go." Kalinka ducked behind a partition as Roll hit the switch.

The machine, looking something like a hybrid between a RC hovercar and a robovacuum, began to spin in place. It built up speed at an alarming rate.

"Cut the power!"

Roll switched it back off, then scowled. The damage was already done, and wisps of smoke drifted from the defective robot.

"Why is it easier to repair something complicated than it is to build something simple from scratch?"

"Well…" Kalinka replied, "Don't be so hard on yourself. I mean, first of all, when you're doing repairs you're usually focusing on one thing at a time." Which was true. "And these guys are pretty complicated themselves. It's just… we tend to take some things for granted."

"Like?"

"Well, like… as a human, I don't ever really think about things like balance or, I dunno, smell. But those are actually really complex, finely tuned systems. And they're even more difficult with, er, non… organic… forms…"

"'Robot' is fine. 'Android' is fine. Really, any variations of those are fine."

She laughed with a sort of nervous appreciation. "Got it."

Tilting her head, Roll gave Kalinka a questioning look. "…Did someone else give you a hard time?"

"What? No, no. I'm just trying to be considerate."

"Oh. Well in that case, thanks." She glowered at the smoking heap in front of her. "Now this piece of junk barely deserves to be called a robot." Pursing her lips, she then shrugged in defeat. "I think you're right, though. I'm much more aware of how all my support systems and ancillary programs work, but most of the time I'm not thinking about them on a… conscious level." With a sound like a deep-felt sigh, Roll shook her head. "Dr. Light makes it look so easy."

When Kalinka was off from school she preferred to stay at her father's. Roll would've rather worked in Dr. Light's lab, but respected Kalinka's wishes. Much to her chagrin, Bass often came by to watch.

She gave him a dirty look. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope."

"Roll," Kalinka said, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Could you hand me, er…" But she didn't actually need anything and drew a blank.

"Hey, when you two have a falling out later, which one of you is going to be the evil super villain?"

She laughed, and then looked nervously at Roll. To her surprise, the Light 'bot broke into a wicked grin.

"It'll be me, of course," Roll said.

While working the girls chatted about classwork and the group project Kalinka was doing. The conversation soon devolved from intellectually stimulating topics to concerts and movies, and hypothetical situations like if Mega Man could beat various comic book superheroes in a fight.

At one point Dr. Cossack walked through the lab, pausing to admire their progress.

"Impressive. Do you need any help?"

"No," Roll replied bluntly, before Kalinka could.

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

"Third time's the charm," Kalinka said. "I hope."

Roll eyed the squat, ugly little battle 'bot, no bigger than a housecat, and crossed her arms. They'd had to scrap it and start from scratch twice already. So far, this one was doing well with their rigorous testing, but… it was too soon to tell.

This time Break Man had joined them, although he fiddled with a handheld com— he could talk over the helmet com and send written notes using the display panel on his gauntlet, but used a handheld unit when out of armor— and pretended not to be watching.

"Why are you doing so many tests?" he asked eventually. "I thought the fights were rigged."

"The BBF is." Roll flashed her brother a knowing smile. "But the regional competitions are the real deal. And we intend to take the championship."

Grinning, he gave her a thumbs up, then thoughtfully appraised their work in progress.

"It needs more spikes."

"Thanks, but nobody asked you." She crossed her arms. Darn it, he was right. 

It was Roll, even more surprisingly, who came up with a solution to the other part of their dilemma.

"You've done a lot of contract work for the government," she said to Dr. Cossack. "Including designing and building military robots and defense weapons. Why don't you just loan Bass out to them?"

"What? I can't loan him out like a hovercar, it's—" He abruptly fell silent, brows furrowed in concentration. "Then again…"

"'Then again'? 'Then again'!?" Bass was outraged. "No, no 'then again'!"

But negotiating contracts with the military and the local police solved a lot of their problems. Mikhail was responsible for Bass, and he was the one hired as a subcontractor. It meant that any world saving business— or other, less glamorous duties— would be in some sort of official capacity (more or less). Most importantly, it meant Bass's careless disregard for property was now the collateral effect of law enforcement operations.

It also allowed Dr. Cossack to get government contractor insurance coverage.

The cries went up to the heavens. Bass resented the idea of being a 'rented commodity', and hated that they were working for 'the man', and that technically he had to wait until being called in to handle a threat. (This did not stop him from jumping the gun anyways.)

"Oh, but think of it this way," Dr. Cossack said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We're essentially mercenaries."

Bass didn't want to admit that was pretty cool, but honestly…

"Okay, yeah. That's pretty cool."

He immediately recognized the text on the computer display and scowled.

"You made a copy of my software?"

Dr. Cossack glanced up, surprised. He could tell by Bass's tone that it was a loaded question.

"Not exactly. This isn't a working program, it's more of a… 'snapshot' for review."

Bass studied him critically, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not.

"I'll be honest, I haven't learned much yet." Dr. Cossack chuckled dryly. Haphazardly written code was called 'spaghetti code', impossible to tell where one line starts and the other ends. By comparison, Bass's was 'Gordian knot code'. He'd stumbled his way through enough to remove Dr. Wily's restrictions and controls, but even that had involved some educated guesswork and relying on his intuition. "What I've gleaned so far has been fascinating. You're quite an impressive piece of tech."

The challenge was invigorating, really. Between what Dr. Wily had done to his reputation, the failed launch of the collaborative RoboPolice (and a few other personal projects which turned out to be duds), the feeling that he was falling further and further behind on a race between Dr. Light and Wily…

…Well, it hadn't killed his interest in robotics, but it had discouraged his work in the field. He still had his Robot Masters out there, and even designed and built new models from time to time, but by and large he'd shifted focus. While he dabbled in many different industries, his work was now mostly in innovations to automated manufacturing.

"If you don't mind my asking, is there a problem with having your software copied?" He'd seen the utility for an off-site backup was turned off, and the transmitter hardware conspicuously absent.

Bass hesitated before responding. "It's— it has to do with stuff like identity or whatever. I don't like software backups, clones, those kinds of things, they mess with my sense of self. And that," he pointed at the coding displayed on the monitor, "is not me."

"No, of course not. This is more like an MRI scan, or a DNA database record." Dr. Cossack offered a reassuring smile. "I think I understand your concerns, however, and I don't mind working around them."

"The snapshot is fine." Bass had agreed to certain restrictions and felt it was only fair that he could set some boundaries as well. It was worth a shot, at least. "Next time, ask first."

"Oh! Oh… well…" The idea had never even occurred to him. "I suppose that shouldn't be a problem." He paused. "I was planning to make a copy of your AI platform, if that's okay."

Bass bristled at that, but managed to hold his tongue. He felt conflicted about being a research subject— he didn't care much for it, but he was also indebted to Dr. Cossack, and would be lucky if 'research' was all that the scientist asked in return.

"Just the AI. No combat utilities, no emotions, no thoughts, no diagnostic reports…" He continued.

"DNA on file."

"More or less."

"Okay. I guess that's fine, too." He still wasn't thrilled with the idea, but if Dr. Cossack was willing to ask, he was willing to concede.

"Nah."

"…'Nah'?"

Dr. Cossack blinked in surprise.

He still wasn't quite used to getting straight refusal from a robot like this.

"What do you need that frumpy old nerd's help for, anyway? You've got this."

He cleared his throat. "Well… I appreciate the vote of confidence, but Dr. Light has far more experience with these things than I do. He's already had the opportunity to study…"

Bass groaned.

"Er… Please?"

"'Please'?"

Bass was just as taken aback by the polite request as Dr. Cossack had been by his glib defiance.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Bass relented.

"Alright, if you really think it'll make a difference."

The rebuild hit a snag early. It was apparent it would end up more complicated— and expensive— than expected.

Wily's methods to produce the special alien metal had died with him, and neither Dr. Cossack nor Dr. Light were able to reverse engineer it. When their efforts went nowhere, Dr. Light very generously contacted Professor Otoi, Signal's creator and the original source of the MIRA. Professor Otoi, in turn, very generously provided the material needed to finish the job.

Unfortunately the two versions of the MIRA were different enough that the self-repair function, acting something like an immune response, rejected the new metal. That was a major setback, a source of frustration for Dr. Cossack, and a rather unpleasant experience for Bass.

With a little experimentation the two scientists found that regular metal didn't cause a reaction.

Dr. Cossack ended up having to take what was needed for the chassis from the armor. What was left was used to make a titanium alloy. It was easier said than done, and took some time to figure out the best ratio for strength and flexibility… armor needed to give on impact, not shatter. From there he had to rebuild the armor from scratch.

With the work finally complete, Bass had sat there, spending several long minutes just studying his hands.

"Don't you want to check out a mirror?"

"Sure…" he replied, only to look back down at his hands and break into a grin. "Wow."

The mirror was a little unsettling, because Bass had only ever seen himself in armor. The reflection looking back— synthetic skin and purple boxers (Dr. Light had put him up to that, no doubt)— was almost surreal. It was incredible work, only…

All the distinctive little flourishes he'd insisted on keeping now disrupted his new human likeness.

This was especially true because, like Dr. Light's robots, his proportions were just a little off. A touch cartoonish. Maybe not so obvious if you weren't paying close attention. But all of these things combined meant it would be harder for him to pass than it was for Rock, or Blues, or Roll.

Quietly watching, Dr. Cossack could tell he was troubled but not why, until Bass hesitantly touched one of the purple slashes on his face. "They could be tattoos," he said. "Colored contacts, dental implants, hair dye."

Frowning, Bass glanced at Dr. Cossack. "Maybe… maybe we should tone it down, though…" Which he wasn't happy about, but he'd waited too long to mess this up over something petty like eye color.

"Hmmm… how about this. We'll start with a few minor adjustments, you can see how you feel about it after a few days. If you want to change the other things, we can discuss it then." The fangs could be ground down so they weren't quite as obvious. Changing the eye color display to a rusty brown was a simple matter of rewriting a line of code, and a few more lines switched it back to the original red upon armor recall.

"Okay."

"Everything else is satisfactory, then?"

"Way more than satisfactory, Dr. Cossack. You did a mega job on—" Eyes wide, he clapped his hands over his mouth. "Don't you dare tell him I said that."

"Tell who?" Dr. Cossack teased.

Shaking his head, Bass looked back at the mirror for a moment, then back at him. "I can tell you loaded the new software patch for tactile receptors, too, but it's not running…"

"Well, yes. I fear too many changes at once would be overwhelming, especially when one is a new sensation—"

"It's complete, though? We could run it now, it's ready to go live?"

"…Yes."

He felt that this was a bad idea, but Bass was excited and impatient. Returning to the computer terminal, Dr. Cossack remotely started the utility. Almost instantly Bass grew strangely quiet and subdued— overwhelmed, as predicted, by the flood of new input he was getting. The warmth and humidity of the air, the floor underfoot cold and hard and smooth (all at once!), the tug of the elastic band and the soft fabric skimming over his legs, the sheer weirdness of the synthetic skin where his arms rubbed against his sides, dragging slightly when he moved them. That bothered him so much he lifted his arms a little, away from his body.

He ran his thumb across his fingertips, back and forth, trying to process the sensation. Then hesitantly reached out to touch the work bench, looking distressed as he slid his hand along the edge.

"Umm…"

Dr. Cossack made the mistake of placing a reassuring hand on Bass's arm.

He shrieked and jumped back on contact.

Unable to help it Dr. Cossack burst into laughter. "Are you okay?" he asked, once he'd caught his breath.

"Tch! I was just surprised! That's all, don't— don't surprise me like that!" He touched his arm where Dr. Cossack had, and frowned again. "Nn… turn it off."

"Okay."

After switching back, Bass leaned against the bench, lost in thought. "It's really weird. Different. But mostly just weird." He gave him a questioning look. "How do you guys put up with it?"

"There was never a time that I didn't have a sense of touch. For us, it would be stranger not to."

"Why can't I run the proximity sensors and tactile receptors at the same time?"

He was so used to knowing when physical contact was imminent, before it actually happened. The fact he hadn't sensed Dr. Cossack's hand when it was within range was as alarming as the touch itself. And touch itself— even with his own hand— was very alarming.

"I'm sorry to say that's a hardware limitation. Do you have any idea how much processing power you use on— what am I saying, of course you know. Your central processor isn't up for running both simultaneously, and I'm not comfortable with doing modifications to any of your computer hardware just yet." He shrugged. "Peripherals, maybe, but nothing vital."

Which Bass couldn't fault him for. It would have to happen eventually, he was past due for those kinds of upgrades, but it wasn't affecting performance yet…

"We'll make a few small changes to your appearance," Dr. Cossack continued, gently. "Give it a week. Then, we can make any adjustments if needed, and try out 'touch' again."

"Okay."

He nodded and turned back to the computer, but then he suddenly froze, look of quiet amusement and satisfaction changing to one of annoyance. "Chert." He slapped the side of the terminal. "Clothes! I knew I forgot something…!"

Chapter Text

That first week flew by, with Break Man, Mega Man, and a few of their friends apparently trying to make up for lost time, cramming years of missed experiences into a couple days. By day four Bass holed up in Dr. Cossack's citadel. "If anyone asks, I'm not here." That seemed to get the message across, and the last two days were decidedly less hectic.

He'd gotten stares, mostly because of the 'tattoos', but that was the extent of it. As far as he could tell, no one suspected that he was a robot.

Then, all too soon, it was time for 'touch, take two'.

What followed was a week and a half of Bass being uncharacteristically jumpy, violently startled anytime anyone— or anything— touched him. He walked around with extreme caution, taking great pains not to accidentally brush up against anything, and always switched back to the proximity sensors before dropping into idle mode so as not to be taken by surprise.

As he adjusted, the pendulum swung the other way. By the third week he was touching everything and anything that he could get his hands on. This was kind of a problem, because as it turned out, Bass did not have a very good sense of personal boundaries. Or appropriate contact. Or polite behavior. Eager to sample the vast rich variety of textures out there, he simply wanted to feel the difference between the crisp starched fabric of Dr. Cossack's lab coat and the breezy well-worn cotton of his favorite button-down shirt.

Or to see how the skin of Dr. Cossack's hands were rough and leathery compared to Giertz's smooth and supple compared to Oma Wily's impossibly soft and delicate compared to Break Man's slightly rubbery.

Or to find out if Dr. Light's beard was as springy and wiry and fuzzy as it looked.

(It was.)

With an exasperated sigh, Dr. Light gently swatted the robot's hand away. "Would you stop— Bass, you can't just—" He rubbed his temples. "Why are you here?"

He was rarely this short with anyone, but in his defense, Bass had just wandered over and started randomly stroking his beard.

"Waiting for Break Man," he replied with a shrug.

"Well, perhaps you could wait outside?"

"Oh. Okay." He could take a hint— because he was learning, darn it.

Before he left, Roll popped into the lab. "Hey, are you still all sensitive about being touched?"

"No." Bass rolled his eyes as if he hadn't just spent the last week a skittish bundle of nerves.

She approached and held out one hand, palm flat, slowly reaching over. For a moment she allowed her hand to hover a half-inch over him, then firmly planted it on his upper chest, near the shoulder.

He flinched.

"Mhmmmmm," she said, amused. "You know, this whole time I've been wondering… are you ticklish?"

"What?"

"You know. Ticklish."

He stared in confusion. "I have no idea what that means."

With an evil grin, she generously provided a demonstration.

(He was.)

Bass made a sound that could only be described as inhuman and shoved her harder than was appropriate.

Roll responded by slapping him in the face.

He stepped back, stunned, raising an arm to shield himself from further walloping, and gingerly placing his free hand over the spot she'd struck him.

"Roll!" said Dr. Light. "Are you hurt?" he asked Bass.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, but his expression said otherwise. It was his first time experiencing physical pain, and clearly… he didn't like it. He also knew that he could never, ever admit that to anyone. "I— Tell Break Man I'm going to go over to— who am I kidding? I'm gonna go shoot things."

Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he teleported away.

It'd been a while since Break Man had been out to one of the demolished Skull Fortresses. Nature was slowly reclaiming this one, but it didn't look much different from the last time he saw it. Bass was perched on a beam that jutted out from the rubble.

"Sup?"

He looked uneasy. "Dr. Cossack is not finished with my armor."

"And…?"

"…And I need to be ready by the time it's done."

"Ready for what?"

"What do you think?" He pulled a face. "Either I switch back to proximity sensors every time I go into battle, or I need to get used to being hit. So." Bass jumped down. "Shoot me."

Break Man's incredulous look was apparent even through his shades. "Kid, you don't have any armor on. This isn't just a bad idea, it's a phenomenally stupid idea."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, nerd."

Heaving a sigh, Break Man reached down, grabbed a small stone, and chucked it— a glancing blow that struck Bass on the left temple.

"Ow! Crap!"

"I'm going to be honest with you, a part of me enjoyed that."

Glaring, Bass clasped his head where he'd been struck. Then he looked confused and pulled his hand away. "Why do people do that? It's not helping. It doesn't do anything."

"You're doing it because you've seen humans do it. Humans do it because of the way their nerves and brain process stimulus. It works for them, but you're right, it won't do anything for you."

Break Man approached and patted him on the back.

"Unfortunately, you're also right about having to get used to taking a beating."

With that, he punched him in the side.

"Ughh, I hate you so much right now."

"I didn't even hit you that hard…" He offered a warm smile. "But that's enough for today. Look, you'll build up a tolerance. In the meantime, do NOT try taking a plasma blast without armor on, Bass. I'm not kidding."

Once his schedule opened up, Dr. Cossack resumed doing annual maintenance on his Robot Masters, which he'd postponed because of the rebuild and was now way behind.

Bass wasn't sure how to feel about them. With Dr. Wily, the others had been competition. An insult. A reminder that Wily saw him as a failure. The Cossack Numbers, however, were built for specific industries. Construction, or the exploration of hazardous places, or…

"I don't understand why he looks like a frog. What do frogs have to do with irrigation?"

"It's toad. 'Toad Man'."

"Toads are a type of frog— but that just proves my point! Toads usually live in dry habitats, so that makes even less sense." Hands on his hips, Bass gave the Robot Master a condescending look. "Plus, he looks kinda stupid."

"Well, I don't think so. I may be biased, however, seeing that Kalinka helped me with the design…"

"…Oh. Um…"

He chuckled. "It's alright. I can see how, ah, a child's whimsy might seem silly from an outside perspective."

Flustered, Bass sulked for a bit after that. It certainly hadn't helped endear him to Toad Man or any of the other Cossack 'bots. When he came back later, it didn't look like any progress had been made. "How long is this going to take?"

"As long as it takes," Dr. Cossack said with a smile. "It would be faster if I wasn't working alone. Since you're already here, would you like to give me a hand with this?"

"No," Bass replied.

But he did anyway.

A small crowd had gathered in the arcade to watch as Mega Man and Bass went at each other's throats— in game, of course. With reaction time far faster than any human, the game's hardware struggled to keep up with them. The spot was on its way to becoming a regular hangout, and this time they were there with mutual friend 'Lyric' and her boyfriend Sean.

"How do they do that?" wondered one awe-struck spectator.

"Don't you know?" A beaming staff member— distracted from her job— replied. "That's Mega Man!"

Bass shot her a glare from over his shoulder, a move that cost him a few points. Points he couldn't really afford to lose.

"…and Bass," she added quickly.

"Who?"

"Ugh!" He was distracted enough that he lost that round. Abandoning the joystick he turned, ready to recall his armor and make a scene. It wouldn't be the first time— there was a reason the staff knew who he was. Mega Man grabbed his shirt and pulled him close.

"Is that really a good idea?"

Disgusted, Bass jerked free from his grasp.

"You should do an interview with Leanne Niccoles. She helped set the record straight with Break Man, and was very fair in her reporting."

He growled as he returned to the game. "I shouldn't have to, as many times as I've saved this stupid planet…"

It wasn't entirely unfair. Break Man's reputation had been smeared by Wily. Bass, on the other hand, got his start as a genuine villain. Over the years he'd reluctantly waded into anti-hero territory, and after Wily died, continued that path… but his old reputation had been justly earned, and never really gone away.

Musing over all this, Mega Man lost the next round.

"Come on," said Sean. "Let's go grab a bite."

"How about you two dweebs go, and leave us alone?" Bass replied. Neither robot could eat, and he seemed annoyed by the disruption.

"No, let's go with them," said Mega Man. "I'm getting bored with this anyway." When his competitive nature kicked in he could play electronic games for days on end, but today he just wasn't feeling it.

They pushed their way through the crowd, some people reaching out to touch Mega Man or ask for his autograph or trying to take a candid picture on their handheld com unit. Irate, Bass swatted one poor guy's com right out of his hands, sending it flying into the air and over the crowd, hitting the floor with an audible 'crunch'. That was the end of that, and the crowd eased up, giving them some breathing room.

At the food court no one recognized them and they got some peace and quiet— as much as one could expect in a mall food court.

"So, I can't help notice," Lyric said slyly. "Break Man isn't around."

"Oh, he's been busy. Don't ask me with what, you know he needs to keep his secrets," Mega Man replied with a grin.

"It just seems like you two are hanging out a lot more than you used to." She glanced suggestively from Mega Man to Bass.

Blissfully unaware, Mega Man nodded. "Yeah, I guess we have."

Bass, wise to the ways of the Mega Man Fan Club, knew where she was going.

"Oh no. No. Don't get any cute ideas. This isn't your fantasy 'relay' crap."

Lyric giggled, and Sean hung his head in embarrassment.

"Guys, I just want to say that I don't support any of that. I'm a Robot Master stats kind of nerd," said Sean. He wanted to stay as neutral on the topic as he could.

Mega Man blinked in confusion. "What?"

"You know. 'Relay'." When that was met with a blank look, Bass shook his head. "Jeez, do you ever go on the net? Or do you live under a rock?" He cut Mega Man off before he could respond with some kind of pun. "Your fans— your fans— love to draw pictures and write stories about you."

"Wait, seriously?" Mega Man shrunk down in his seat, terribly self-conscious about this news. "Why… oh, gosh. That's so, um… It's, er, really flattering. I'm just not used to that much attention…" He laughed nervously.

"You wouldn't think it's flattering if you knew the sort of stories they're writing," he said, and crossed his arms. "Some of them are adventures, but most of them are relay… net shorthand for relationship."

"I don't see what the big deal is. I have good relationships with everyone I know."

Bass made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Guess again, stupid."

Dr. Cossack's face was unreadable. "What I don't understand is how setting it on fire could've possibly helped."

"Don't look at me," Mega Man said. He'd done the best he could to keep things from getting out of control, and it felt like his efforts just made it worse. Lyric and Sean hadn't been much help either. If only Break Man had been there, he could've talked some reason into Bass… but alas.

"I figured it would kill two birds with one stone," Bass replied, "and—"

"No. No, on second thought, I don't want to hear this. You're grounded until further notice."

"Oh dear," said Dr. Light.

"'Grounded'? But I'm already— you don't mean electrical grounding. What's that supposed to mean?"

"In Kalinka's case it meant 'go directly to your room after school, no com, no computer.' In your case, I suppose I have no choice but to shut off your com unit and weapons system—"

"WHAT!? Are you out of your mind!? You can't—!"

He held up a hand. "You agreed to the terms—"

"For safety not for kicks!"

"Do you think I enjoy this?"

Bass glowered at him.

Eyes wide, Mega Man watched all of this with one hand pressed over his mouth. He was incredulous but also pretty amused.

This wasn't the first time Bass had done something wrong, just the first time it was bad enough to land him in the corner for a time out. …At least, that Dr. Cossack knew about.

"You agreed," Dr. Cossack repeated. "You'll have to earn those privileges back, because you're the one who decided to set that poor meter reader robot on fire. No one made you do that."

"I—! Listen you moron, you can't— you can't just—!" Bass was sputtering, and he was furious but it was more than that. He was not equipped to deal with Dr. Cossack's calm demeanor, or firm but fair discipline. Disagreements between them were rare and arguments rarer, but when they did happen, Dr. Cossack was quick to shut them down by de-escalating things and ignoring Bass's outbursts. It always threw him for a loop. "Stupid jerk! Argh!"

As quick as he was to fly off the handle, he just as quickly lost steam when it failed to provoke a reaction. He faltered.

"…Can't we— can't we just have a screaming fight and threaten each other?"

Dr. Cossack raised his eyebrows questioningly, but didn't say anything.

"Feh." With that, Bass gave him a dirty look and left.

"Wow," said Mega Man. "I can't believe I just watched that happen."

For all of ten seconds Dr. Cossack kept a straight face, then he started cracking up. "Ttt— eh heh he! That rascal. I never know what he'll get into next!"

"You find this funny?" Dr. Light's mood quickly shifted from 'sympathetic' to 'bewildered'.

"Isn't it? Such a strange little robot! He certainly keeps me on my toes."

"He set a public facilities robot on fire."

"I know." Dr. Cossack burst into another round laughter. "That's why I disciplined him." Grinning, he put his hand on Dr. Light's arm. "This was not malicious, it was mischief. You know what he's capable of. If he was trying to be destructive, we'd be dealing with a lot more than a crispy meter reader."

"I suppose…" He paused and scratched at his beard. "Aren't you concerned about getting into trouble?"

"For this? Not especially. I've been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later. Sergeant Jahveri had some very helpful suggestions on how to handle this kind of… incident." In this case, he already knew what to do: claim that a digital object identification error caused Bass to mistake the meter reader robot for a threat, a 'software issue' which he could easily 'fix'. Dr. Cossack had no qualms about playing these games… as far as he was concerned, the system was broken. "No one was hurt, and the damages were contained. At most, they will probably fine me for the repairs."

Mega Man broke into a grin. "You know, Dr. Cossack, Bass is really lucky you're so understanding."

"Heh. What can I say? I was a bit of a rascal myself, once." He got a far away look. "My brothers and I used to make… 'fireworks'— yes, we'll go with 'fireworks'— and set them off in the woods behind the house. We used my chemistry set to time how quickly different things would melt in acid. Then there was the sawblade launcher we built…" There was a brief pause, and he slowly shook his head. "It was a miracle any of us survived to adulthood. Although Piotr did lose three fingers when— ah, well, obviously the sawblade thing was a very bad idea."

Dr. Light and Mega Man exchanged glances, but were smart enough not to ask any follow up questions.

Chapter Text

Sheral's eyes darted back and forth between the four of them. "Are… are you serious?"

"I promise it's okay," said Mega Man. "He's on our side now—"

"I'm not on your side!"

"—and my brother here will make sure he stays out of trouble."

Scowling, she grabbed Mega Man by the arm and led him away from the group, then whispered to him. "I just don't know, Rock. I'm already doing you a favor… and no offense, but the last time that guy was here, he—"

"—Attacked me, revealing my identity to everyone." He gave her a weak smile. "If I can forgive that, then you can give him a chance, right?"

She hemmed and hawed, glancing past him at the robot in question.

"Hey doofus," Bass called over to Mega Man, "tell her it's okay. My combat system is disabled 'cause I set that meter reader on fire."

The only thing that succeeded in was to make Sheral even more horrified.

"I… what? Wh-what do those things even have to do with each other?"

"It's a long story," Mega Man said to Sheral. "Or… actually, it's not. He's grounded."

"For… arson…?"

"Well. Yes. But I promise it'll be okay! Please?"

She stood there with the sort of nervous smile one gets when they don't want to be the bearer of bad news.

"Whatever," Bass said, sparing her from having to drag this out any further. "I didn't want to go to this stupid club anyway. And the name stinks!"

As he stormed out, Roll approached, placing a reassuring hand on Sheral's shoulder. "You made the right choice, believe me."

"I don't understand. What's wrong with 'Club Zero'?"

Mega Man was good with music production, especially composing pieces and audio mixing.

As a DJ, he was terrible.

It was hard to say where, exactly, things went wrong. He mostly played music for musicians, complex and designed to demonstrate the musician's skill, rather than the current popular dance hits. He wasn't good at reading the crowd, much less leading it, much less working it into a frenzy.

Break Man and Roll watched in amusement as their brother struggled, floundered, and ultimately drowned.

He left the turntables defeated.

"Maybe you'll do better next time," said Sheral, in an effort to be supportive and encouraging.

"Are you sure you want me back for a 'next time?"

"That was embarrassing to watch," Break Man said with a grin.

"It was hilarious." Roll threw her arm across his back. "You were really bad."

"Thanks, Roll."

"Anytime."

He would end up giving it one more shot, about a month later… and then that was the end of Mega Man's short lived, catastrophic DJ career.

Dr. Cossack was waiting for Kalinka at the monorail station. After warm greetings they headed to the hovercar, his arm around her shoulders.

"I have to apologize, Zolotse."

"For what?"

"Oh… for any time I may have called you difficult. Or even thought it."

She laughed. "Is that including the whole Fairoat Punk's concert fiasco?"

"Including that, yes."

"How about when I tried to secretly keep a pet guinea pig under my bed?"

"That too."

"When I threw your portable computer down the stairs? Or each and every hormone driven rage explosion?"

"Every last one."

"You're just looking back on those things with rose-tinted glasses."

"No. You were a good kid."

"I was, but sometimes even good kids are brats."

He chuckled. "As it turns out, I did not know the meaning of the word."

"That bad, huh? Look at the bright side, Pa… at least you're not bored."

"No, no I am not."

"What the heck!? What is this? Ugh!"

Absolutely horrified, Bass closed his eyes and grimaced.

"Kalinka, whatever you're doing, stop it."

She laughed. "It works on you, then? I wasn't sure it would—"

"Just stop. Stop." He opened his eyes for a second and then covered them with his hands. "It's terrible."

"Okay, alright already." She pulled the mask off, then held it out to him. "Look, it's just a mask, no big deal."

Taking it, he turned it over and examined it— clear with subtle facets— his scowl deepening. "No big deal for you, maybe. This thing is awful. It's garbage. Get rid of it."

"Let me guess, you don't like it."

"Don't like it? I hate it." He glared at her. "What do you even need an anti-facial recognition mask for, anyway? Did you get this just to mess with me?"

"No, of course not. Like I said, I wasn't even sure it would work on you."

"Yeah, it does! I don't process visual input the way you do. It's— that's basically its own little thing, that translates video into data I can use. This—" he flicked the mask with his free hand, "gives me an error. Do you have any idea what that's like!?"

Kalinka sighed. "Sorry. Good grief." She tilted her head slightly, curious. "How did you know it was me, then?"

"What, you think that's the only way can I recognize people?" He started counting off on his fingers. "Height, build, mannerisms, predictable clothing style, ambient sounds like breathing…"

"'Predictable clothing style'?" She made a grab for the mask. "Here, give it back."

He was reluctant to.

"Come on, I want to see if it works on Break Man."

Instantly the offense was forgotten, and Bass broke into a mischievous grin. "In that case I'm coming with you."

Crammed into tightly packed bleachers, Dr. Light had Mega Man on his right and Break Man on his left. Next to Mega Man were some of his old friends, who Thomas knew, and some teens that were introduced to him but whose names he couldn't remember. On the other side of Break Man were Bass and Dr. Cossack. They had the row pretty much to themselves, but it was a tight fit, and the bleachers weren't exactly comfortable to begin with.

The bad seating was soon forgotten as the match got underway. Small, round, and looking much like a robovacuum that someone soldered way too many spikes onto, Team Zolotse's battle 'bot faced its competitor: a similarly sized robot that resembled— well— a hopping Kerone.

"Somebody's ripping off Wily's designs," Break Man said, then reached across Dr. Light to give his brother a playful shove. "Let me know if you start having flashbacks."

Mega Man rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

Roll spent the match racing up and down the platform around the arena, hollering and waving her arms around. Kalinka, on the other hand, was planted in one spot, spending as much time watching the battle as she did punching in new commands.

The spikes ended up being more useful than anyone expected, making it so that the pseudo-Kerone couldn't get too many physical blows in. It peppered the robovac with tiny fireballs and medium-grade laser blasts.

Dr. Cossack'd had to talk the girls out of equipping their 'bot with a plasma cannon, it was too dangerous for the small arena. It fired back with an equally mediocre laser, but since the pseudo-Kerone was constantly bouncing around, very few of its shots actually landed.

Giving up on the weapon, Kalinka went for sheer physical brutality, ordering the robovac 'bot to speed up and ram itself into the pseudo-Kerone. This was both a success and a disaster. Their competitor was impaled on the spikes, flailing but unable to free itself. It was also stuck with its little flamethrower just inches from the robovac's hull. A focused, steady flame heated up until it was burning blue, melting a hole right through to the internal hardware.

The little robovac, having fought valiantly and somewhat stupidly, died a quiet death. It had lasted a good seven minutes.

"You guys did great," Break Man said as Kalinka and Roll made their way to the bench, squeezing in between their friends and family. "Most teams don't last more than three minutes on their first battle. Really impressive, guys."

"Thank you," said Kalinka.

Roll said nothing. She was inconsolable.

"You're coming up on a year with Dr. Cossack. Pretty exciting, huh?"

He flashed Break Man a look of annoyance. "Who cares?"

He wasn't very excited, he was actually kind of stressed out about it. Because despite the fact that Dr. Cossack had been nothing but kind, and despite the fact he'd just invested a great deal into Bass…

…he also never officially made a decision on what to do with the Wily 'bot.

It was a silly thing to be worried about.

Bass didn't say anything, and neither did Dr. Cossack, and the anniversary of his first year there came and went uneventfully.

The first real snow of the season found Bass practically scrambling to get outside.

Dr. Cossack watched in amusement as the robot stood still, arms outstretched in front of him. It changed to concern when Bass turned to go back inside, crushed.

"What's wrong?" Dr. Cossack asked, but got no reply.

He slunk off to his room without a word. Dr. Cossack gave him some space and some time. A few hours later he went to check on him, stopping right inside the doorway. Bass was sprawled out on the floor.

"See, I knew it would make sense to put a bed in here."

"I don't need a bed, dummy," Bass said, exasperated.

"What's the matter? Would you like to talk about it?"

"No." He looked away. "I want to be alone right now."

"Of course."

Dr. Cossack hesitated as he left, lingering briefly in the hallway.

He was surprised when Bass dropped in at dinner, taking a seat and propping his chin in his hand as if nothing had happened.

"They don't feel like anything. Just cold, that's it. Individually, they're too light to make any distinct tactile sensation. It's kind of like how little flakes of ash don't feel like anything either."

"Ah," said Dr. Cossack, as if he had any clue what was going on. "The snow?"

"Yeah. Snowflakes. Wily said they melt from your body heat, so that they felt like 'rain without the impact'… and that I could tell him if…" Glaring at the table top, he then sneered. "You know what? I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"No problem." He gave Bass a questioning look. "When did you have ash falling on you?" There had been no battles since the rebuild to explain that, and after the meter reader incident he was a little worried about the answer.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies."

"At least tell me it wasn't illegal."

"Nah."

He wasn't sure if that meant 'no, I won't tell you', 'no, it wasn't illegal', or 'no, it wasn't legal'. Ultimately, Dr. Cossack decided not to press.

"Dr. Light invited us over, if you're interested. We can go tomorrow."

Bass gave a noncommittal shrug.

It started innocently, a friendly low-stakes snowball fight.

Naturally, things escalated. Soon it was an aggressive, cutthroat free-for-all. A battle to the death, every 'bot for themself.

Dr. Cossack learned the hard way when he stepped outside to watch, only to be pelted with snowballs from every direction. Turning around to flee back into the lab, one smacked him right in the face, and when he looked up was shocked to find Roll leering down from her perch on the rooftop.

"Roll?" He asked, swiping a fistful of snow off of his glasses. This delay cost him, as another snowball struck the back of his head. Not bothering to look to see who'd launched that attack, he pressed the door button and rushed back inside.

"No mercy! No surrender!" Roll shouted triumphantly.

"Desperta ferro!" Break Man responded with his own battle cry, having snuck up onto the roof behind her, taking advantage of the fact that she was focused on the hapless Dr. Cossack.

"Eaugh!"

Her anguished wail could be heard even in the lab.

The good two and a half feet of snow was impressive for anyone, but to robots who were all four and a half feet or under, it proved a unique challenge. Despite being buried more than halfway, they fought relentlessly and valiantly.

Dr. Cossack finished cleaning himself up, peeled off his heavy coat, and struggled out of his winter boots. By the time he'd returned to the rec room, Dr. Light had disappeared.

After wandering around for a bit, he found him in the kitchen.

It was a disaster area. Cocoa powder and sugar everywhere. Dr. Light looked decidedly sheepish.

"Roll handled these things for so many years— she still does, for the most part, but… oh, you'd think I could manage something as simple as hot chocolate!"

Laughing, Dr. Cossack stepped in, and Dr. Light was more than happy to let him take over.

Before long they were back in the rec room and enjoying their cocoa.

"I've never been one to celebrate holidays," Dr. Light said. "But every year it seems like things have settled into a nice routine, and I… I don't know. Maybe I'm just getting sentimental."

"Instead of traditional holidays, you should start your own."

"Such as?"

"Such as… the anniversary of Dr. Wily's demise, may he rot in peace."

Dr. Light choked on his drink. "You're not serious!"

"No, no, of course not." Dr. Cossack gave him an amused look. "Bass would never forgive me."

He said it in a way that indicated that was the one and only reason. He had a lot more bad blood with Wily than Dr. Cossack did, but he'd also had a far more complicated relationship with him, as well. As much as it had been a relief, Dr. Light was never happy about it.

"How about… the day you completed your robots? The day Mega Man became alive? The day Break Man found his way back?" Mikhail had decided not to make a fuss over the anniversary of Break Man hauling the unconscious Bass into his lab, and now sort of regretted it, so these things were weighing on his mind.

"Hmmm." He glanced at the mug in his hands. "The schnapps are a nice touch."

"Thank you."

"…I've been thinking about all this because the Fillmores invited me to their family Harvest Season feast. I didn't go— I don't think they would've been comfortable with Mega Man or Break Man tagging along. Roll probably wouldn't be an issue, but it didn't seem fair to take her and not her brothers. But part of me feels like I should have, even if it was by myself…"

"I'm sorry, the Fillmores?"

"Ah. Ingrid's extended family."

"Ingrid Wily?"

"Yes." Dr. Light chuckled nervously. "I kept up with her all these years— usually just a com call every now and then, although I try to make it out for her birthday if I can. This past year or so, some of her grandchildren have started reconnecting. They appreciate that I was there for her when they weren't."

Dr. Cossack stared into his cup, lost in thought. "I had no idea. More to the point, I don't think that one," he jerked his head sharply in the general direction of the front door, indicating Bass, "knows about any of it either."

Actually, it was worse than that.

He was a lot more attentive (or nosy, depending who you asked) than Dr. Wily, but he was also understanding and approachable. As they'd fallen into a comfortable routine, Bass became more open with him. Which is why Dr. Cossack knew he regularly visited Oma Wily. He'd already complained about the fact that Oma refused to talk about her 'real' family, and that the pictures of people he didn't know were showing up alongside his. The best Dr. Cossack had been able to do was reassure him that his picture was still there, and that the returning family did not mean he would be pushed away.

"Well, I…" Dr. Light hesitated. "I don't feel it's my place, if she doesn't want to share." He took a quick sip of the spiked cocoa and shook his head. "I like Ingrid, but he needs to be careful. She's better at acting right in order to get what she wants, but… oh, how do I say this? Wily didn't get his cruel streak from Frederick."

They fell into a silent lull, each contemplating this.

Then there was a loud, heavy thump from the ceiling— the battle outside must have been heating up— and both scientists startled.

Dr. Light set down his mug, rocking back and forth to get the momentum to get up from the couch. He headed into the laboratory proper and called Mega Man on the com.

"Hello Dr. Light!"

In the background they could hear shrieks of joy and cries of dismay.

"Death to the opposition!" Bass shouted from a distance, and that was followed by a wet muffled 'fwump' as he nailed Mega Man's helmet with a well-aimed snowball.

"Hey! Quit it! I'm on the com with Dr. Light!"

"No rules!"

"No rules!" This time from Break Man. Seconds later he screamed. "Agh! Roll how could you!?"

"No rules!" Roll said in agreement.

"About that. Please stay off the roof, I'm not sure how well it can withstand all this horsing around."

"One rule!" Mega Man was panting, and they could make out the sound of snow crunching as he laboriously made his way closer to the others, and the swish as he waved his free hand over his head. "Dr. Light says stay off the roof!"

"Awww!"

"No problem, Dr. Light," he said into the com. "I'll make sure they comply." Then, in a deep, menacing tone, he jokingly added, "One way or another."

The call cut off, and Dr. Light heaved a sigh.

Outside, Mega Man and Break Man had started wrestling with each other when a massive 'snowboulder' came flying towards them. Under normal circumstances they could've dodged it, but in the waist-high snow they were doomed.

The fact that Bass had packed a snowball almost as large as himself was not surprising. The fact it stayed in one piece even when launched into the air, that was a surprise. As they struggled out from under the heap of snow, Mega Man instinctively gave Break Man a hand, hauling him to his feet. They exchanged a look, an unspoken agreement formed between them. Then they split up.

Since Mega Man was the strongest of the four, he took on Bass, jumping down from a tree branch onto the unsuspecting Wily 'bot. He managed to pin him long enough for Break Man to come charging in, carrying their own comically large 'snowboulder' over his head. At the last possible second Mega Man let go and flipped back into the tree, as Break Man took a running leap and dunked it.

But alliances are short lived in a free-for-all, and not ten minutes later Mega Man had teamed up with Bass against Break Man and Roll.

Chapter Text

"С паршивой овцы — хоть шерсти клок." - Russian Proverb

The gangling monstrosity was nearly twice their height— around eight feet tall— but no broader. Superficially it resembled a robot, but it was in fact a piloted machine. That was the challenge, really. Beating the mech was one thing. Beating it without hurting the person inside was something else entirely.

That was the only reason Mega Man was even there. Bass could easily handle this on his own. But while his conscience had developed to the point where he wouldn't purposefully endanger people, he hadn't quite reached the stage where he'd go out of the way to save them. He made an effort for Dr. Cossack's sake, but a fragile human inside a powerful mech was a recipe for disaster. So he found himself tagging along, for all intents and purposes, to babysit.

"Oh come on!" Mega Man dodged the splash of explosive gel and the bits of pavement that went flying after it struck the road. "This is a losing battle, and you know it. Could we stop with the property damage already!?"

One of the lingering effects of Wily's reign of terror was that certain industries— like the construction industry— had long since moved away from using robots. In this case, they'd focused on manned equipment. Even after Wily, the technology had continued in that direction. It worked well, so there wasn't much incentive to change.

These mechs could still be stolen and misused, but only on a case by case basis. Like this joker. Not nearly as ambitious as Wily, he'd used the stolen demolition mech to rob a bank. It was downright pedestrian.

Mega Man shot cover fire, distracting the pilot and giving Bass an opening, and was irritated when he failed to make a move.

"Hey, what if you paid attention to—?" He fell silent when he saw that the black and gold robot was frozen in place with a blank expression. It took a fraction of a second to realize something was terribly wrong… Mega Man had just enough time to turn in his direction when the mech pilot shot another round of explosive gel.

He flinched, shielding his face as he was pelted with shrapnel that had been Bass.

The very instant Bass came online he knew exactly what sort of condition he was in, and how bad it was. Then it took a moment to process on a conscious level. Probably the most alarming thing was that he was in a state of disassembly. Very, very much so.

In fact, it was likely he no longer resembled the human form. That was impossible to confirm, however, because there was no visual or audio feed. He was completely isolated from the rest of the world.

Yeah, this was bad.

Internal clock indicated he'd been down for six weeks. A month and a half! What the heck happened? That, too, was a mystery. Data read errors and chunks of memory missing, this black hole that stretched weeks even before the incident.

Then, over the past eight days, were logs of activity where he'd been running system analysis and diagnostics, disk defragmentation, and other computer processes… all without any cognitive functions. Sometimes it was weird being a robot. 

Out of desperation, Bass tried pinging Dr. Cossack's com unit. He was such a state that he couldn't compile it into English, and wasn't optimistic it would even work. It was a pleasant surprise when the text went through.

> 01101000 01100101 01101100 01110000

Dr. Cossack startled when he got the message. "'Help'? De ty chto!" Immediately he typed a response.

> Terribly sorry, I didn't mean for you to be cognizant now. Sleep well.

Before Bass had a chance to reply, Dr. Cossack shut him off.

This time he could see and hear, and maybe it would've been better if he couldn't. Dr. Cossack hadn't started to rebuild until he was satisfied with internal hardware repairs and software restoration. Which meant that Bass was still mostly in pieces, more undone than done. Knowing it was one thing. Seeing it…

Briefly cutting off his visual feed, he listened to Dr. Cossack tooling about in the lab. Internal clock said it'd been three months.

Three.

Months.

"What happened?" Bass asked.

"That trouble you kept having with the power supply connections— you remember. I'd finally gotten around to swapping everything out…" He sighed. Unlike the problem Break Man once suffered, this hadn't been serious. It was a minor nuisance. A maintenance issue. When he continued, there was bitterness in his voice. "The installation was… sloppy. I rushed."

That, he remembered. It had been one of those particular types of minor nuisances that people intend to fix but somehow never find the time. Repairing a leaky faucet, replacing the burnt-out fridge lightbulb, patching a torn window screen. At the time Mikhail was juggling one too many projects, spread himself just a little too thin, let the stress get to him a little more than normal. When Bass made an off-hand comment about the issue, he'd decided— in a fit of exasperation— to fix the problem right then and there.

In other words: it was an easily avoidable mistake.

"First time exerting yourself in battle, it fried your energy transformer."

That didn't explain much, actually. "Yeah, but why—?"

Dr. Cossack let out a dry chuckle.

"What part of 'in battle' was unclear? Your computer system shut down to protect itself, and in the meantime, you were more or less blown to pieces."

Well. That would be why he'd been out of commission for the last three months.

Oddly enough, he didn't care who it was they'd been fighting or how the battle had turned out.

Even stranger Bass found himself suddenly and overwhelmingly missing Dr. Wily.

Wily would've been mocking and cruel. Insulting Bass's fighting ability and the fact he still hadn't destroyed Mega Man, saying what a loser he was for being blasted to bits in the first place. It would've been infuriating…

… at the same time, he knew that Wily would've spent every waking moment repairing him. Forgetting to eat, staying up all hours of the night, strung out on caffeine pills and other more questionable stimulants. Pouring his heart and soul into his work, expressing love the only way that old man knew how.

As great as Dr. Cossack was, it just wasn't the same. It was hard to put a finger on why, exactly. His interest was more scientific than personal. He was impressed with Bass as a technical accomplishment. Angry at himself for negligence, not anxious or grieved the way that Wily would've been under all the bluster.

Bass would've given anything to hear 'look at this mess, you useless bucket of bolts' right then.

"I can't afford to keep doing rebuilds, you know," Dr. Cossack teased him later.

"It's not a full rebuild," said Bass, playing along. "This is more like half of one."

"Two-thirds."

"One-third."

"Half." Then he smiled. "You're very lucky. I'm not sure you understand just how lucky— this could have been much, much worse."

The blasting gel hadn't hit him square, which helped. More importantly, Dr. Wily had taken great care to install protective shielding around the most vital and delicate computer components. He'd paid special attention to the drives that held things like his AI, memory recordings, personality… the things that were irreplaceable. There'd been some physical damage to the internal hardware, but nowhere near as devastating as it could've been.

(Dr. Cossack couldn't help but notice all of that was 'after market', designed and put in place well after Bass had been built— which meant this was not the first time he'd been through something like this.)

On the flip side, Bass's stubborn refusal to do an off-site backup had been a problem. What was lost was lost for good. With Dr. Light's help, Dr. Cossack used the AI copy he'd made and, ironically, Roll's programming to fill in the gaps as much as he could.

It was a bit of a slog, painstaking and time consuming, but in some ways it was also… illuminating.

He discovered a lot of things— mostly by accident— like the fact that Bass still didn't fully trust him. It wasn't personal. The only people he trusted completely were Break Man and Oma Wily, which Dr. Cossack felt was pretty reasonable.

Or like the fact that Bass felt somehow responsible for Dr. Wily's death, which Dr. Cossack thought was completely unreasonable. There was both lingering pain and smoldering rage from some of the more awful things that had been done to him.

The regret that he'd never actually told Wily that he loved him, and now he never could.

The nagging anxiety that Dr. Cossack still might decide to get rid of him.

There was also the fact that, oddly enough, shortly after the blocks were removed from his programming Bass had tampered with some of his own memories. From the timing it was clear they involved Zero, and Dr. Cossack wrongly assumed it was some of the more painful memories surrounding those events. It stood out as the only change he'd ever made to his software.

Mikhail realized that most of these things would have to wait until a better time to unpack and address. There were some things that he could start tackling now, however:

"You know… you shouldn't feel guilty that you still care about Dr. Wily, or that you miss him."

"I've never felt guilty about anything in my life," Bass replied sharply. "What do you know, anyway? It's none of your business." Then he grumbled angrily to himself. "Digging around in my mind like that… tch."

"It was unavoidable for data recovery, I'm afraid—"

"Sure. 'Data recovery'. Whatever."

To that Dr. Cossack just sort of smiled, shaking his head before continuing. "Just because you love someone, that doesn't mean you are okay with how they treated you. And resenting them for it doesn't negate the fact you care about them, either."

For the next half an hour or so Dr. Cossack worked in silence. Then, rather abruptly, Bass revisited the topic.

"You know if he was alive, I'd still be on his side." He fully expected Dr. Cossack to point out that ultimately, he hadn't really had a choice, only the illusion of it. That as much as he rebelled, it was because Wily had allowed him to.

To his surprise, Dr. Cossack didn't mention it.

"That's true," he said. "But he isn't, and so you're not."

Bass had no response for that.

That night Dr. Cossack broke out the vodka. He poured two shots and placed one besides Bass, tapping the two glasses together. "Tvoyo zdorov'ye!" Then he downed both, one after the other.

By the end of the hour, he'd completely reverted to speaking Russian. Which was fine, Bass had no problem understanding him.

It was different, though. Just everything about it was different.

Dr. Wily never smoked, he never drank, he never showed a desire for intimate companionship. Dr. Cossack did all these things, sometimes in excess. Where the one had been closed off and distant, the other was overflowing with emotions… he was currently sobbing into his hands about how much he missed his daughter. Bass had seen him drunk before, but never like this.

"<That's the thing about children,>" Dr. Cossack explained, his speech halting and his pronunciation rusty. "<You do your job right, you help them grow into a person. Someone who has their own life. You— you do things right and they leave you.>" He paused, wiping his face with a handkerchief and stuffing it back into his pocket before pouring yet another round. "<After Svetlana died, I… It was just the two of us, and it felt like it would always be the two of us. But now Kalinka has her own life. I'm so proud of her…>" With that, he burst into tears again.

Bass was sharply aware of the fact that he should say something. What, exactly, he didn't know. He thought about pinging Break Man for input, then decided against it.

The moment had passed, and Dr. Cossack pulled himself together. He studied Bass for a second, then went on another tangent. "<You won't leave. No… but that's worse! You don't have a choice. Are you here because you want to be, or you have to be?>"

Bass shook his head. "<Idiot.>"

Then there was a strange sort of amusement that flashed in Dr. Cossack's eyes.

"<Do you know… do you know the doctors Cornelius and Amelia Hart? Excellent engineers, both of them. We worked together on the RoboPolice project. That was, ah, before your time. They… were very interested in taking you off my hands. In fact, they made an offer.>" He shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself. "<But by then I realized— well. They are good people. They are! They are also very… detached. Logical. Excellent engineers, but not— not cut out to be parents. You understand what I'm saying?>"

He paused.

"<It's true, when Break Man first brought you here. My interest was more… how did you put it?>"

"<…more scientific than personal.>"

So, he had seen that. 

"<Ha! Yes. It was true then, but not so much these days. I've spent months in here—>" Dr. Cossack tapped the side of his head and grinned. "<—and in here.>" He set his hand over his heart.

"<Don't be ridiculous. I don't have a heart.>"

"<No heart, but a smart mouth, eh?>" He laughed. "<You know, little robot… we can never know another human so profoundly.>"

That was true. Between Dr. Cossack and Dr. Light, Bass no longer had any privacy. Or secrets. It was something he had to live with, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He dealt with this by sassing back.

"<If you know me so well, and didn't dump me in the nearest junkyard, then you're a sucker.>"

Briefly Dr. Cossack reached over to Bass and touched his face.

"Da. <I am a sucker.>" Then he poured himself another round. "<Some people rescue a stray dog, or a flea-bitten cat. Doctor Mikhail Cossack? He brings a wild wolf cub— a tiny war machine— into his home.>" He took the shot straight to the head.

After a minute, he tried to finish his thought.

"<I don't expect to ever replace Dr. Wily, just as you could never replace Kalinka. That doesn't, that doesn't mean—>"

He fell silent.

A good half an hour later, after giving up on the shot glass and chipping away at the vodka straight from the bottle, he started to laugh.

"<What?>"

"<They. They say. They beggars can't be choosing, hmm? Choosing. Chooser. Ha.>" He paused, momentarily lost. "<Let me tell, you. She had, ah, a few… mis, miscarry. You know? She lost… them. We were— we were so happy to, so happy, for our little girl. It, it— I was happy, then.>" Taking a deep breath, he tried to gather his thoughts and bring the point home. "<But I always, I, I wanted a— Hang on. Hang on, I need an, another…>"

But all he managed to do after that was to drop the bottle, which somehow didn't break, leaving a glistening trail as it bounced and rolled away under the work table. With a groan, Dr. Cossack rested his head in his arms, folded on the edge of the table. When he spoke again it was almost inaudible.

"<Beggars, you and— and you and me. But. Here we are.>"

He blacked out shortly after that.

"I hope you don't mind, but I took the opportunity to have this serviced."

Pulling the wristwatch out from his lab coat, Dr. Cossack handed it to Bass.

"Cool."

Since it was awkward to do with one hand, and his right arm— the whole right side, really— was still somewhat of a mess, Dr. Cossack helped him wind it and put it on.

"…Dr. Light confirmed that you were right on both counts. It was Frederick's, and he did pass it down to Dr. Wily as a gift."

Bass studied it quietly, watching the second hand tick. "It's kind of stupid for a robot to wear a watch, I guess."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose it's equally stupid for a scientist to buy an industrial polycarbonate dining chair so that a robot who doesn't eat can join him at the table for dinner."

"Or as stupid as a combat machine wondering what snow flakes feel like." He suddenly broke into a wicked grin. "This doesn't get you off the hook for getting me blown up, you know."

Dr. Cossack put on a look of mock hurt, then sighed. "No, but doing two-thirds of a rebuild so soon after—"

"Half. Half a rebuild!"

Chapter Text

If there was one bit of silver lining, it was that the tremendous physical damage was never 'life threatening'— Bass didn't actually need a body to survive. These repairs ended up dragging on, much for the same reasons the first rebuild had. In theory, there was nothing on his chassis that couldn't be replaced. In practice, it wasn't like Dr. Cossack could just go out and procure more of the special metal he was built with. They'd recovered as much as possible, down to the smallest fragments, but the fact was that Dr. Cossack didn't have what he needed to complete the job.

They'd ended up having to rely on its self-repair function to replace what was lost. It was more efficient now that Dr. Light had optimized it, but due to the sheer degree of damage, that still took time.

This led to a period where Bass refused to leave the citadel because he wasn't in any condition to fight. He ended up getting more involved in Dr. Cossack's work. The scientist found himself encouraging him to help out around the lab.

In some ways, it was nice. In other ways, he could be a bit of a nuisance.

Eventually Break Man was able to persuade him to take a trip to Dr. Light's lab.

Once there Roll greeted them, offering Dr. Cossack refreshments and giving Bass a critical look. His right hand and wrist were the dark matte gray of bare metal.

"You water-tight yet?" she asked.

He responded by pulling up his shirt, revealing gaps of wire mesh frame where his hull hadn't yet sealed over, allowing a glimpse of hydraulics tubes and cables and circuit boards inside. "Nope."

"Hmmm."

Once Dr. Cossack was settled and chatting with Dr. Light about their most recent projects, Roll grabbed Bass by the arm.

"Come on."

"Where? Why?"

"Battle preparation," Roll replied with a grin.

Soon after Dr. Cossack went looking for them. "What have you all gotten into?" He did a double take. "What is this?"

Bass was shirtless, arms up with hands clasped behind his head, looking bored while Roll wound clear packing wrap around his torso, and Break Man watched with barely-contained amusement.

"I'm just doing some water-proofing," she said, "for the tournament."

"Tournament?"

"Yeah." She seemed annoyed by the questions. "We're having a no holds barred, free for all, to the death water-gun and water-balloon fight." Roll paused to glance up at Dr. Cossack. "Except somebody is full of holes!"

"Oh 'boo hoo'," Bass replied sarcastically. "It's your dumb brother's fault, anyway."

"Don't say that. You know it's not true, and he still feels really terrible about it," said Break Man.

"I know. That's why I said it. I'm going to guilt him to death, it's all a part of my evil plan."

"This is not a good idea," Dr. Cossack said. "Don't you have video games you can play instead?"

Roll pouted. "We already got the super-soakers and I spent all morning filling balloons."

Although Dr. Cossack didn't put his foot down, they could tell he was really apprehensive about this. Bass scowled and then waved Roll away.

"Fine. It's not like I care about this stupid kiddie stuff anyway."

Break Man was crestfallen, but did the responsible thing and supported the decision. "Alright, no big deal. I'll let Mega Man know and he can get the game system hooked up—"

"No. You guys already put too much work into this. Go have your throwdown, and when it's done, I'll go against the winner."

"…Are you sure?" He felt bad, dragging him out here for outdoor summer fun, only to exclude him from it.

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine."

But Bass left the plastic wrap on under his shirt, and sat backwards on the couch, knees on the seat cushion and elbows on the backrest as he gazed out the window.

It worked. After about fifteen minutes Dr. Cossack sighed and relented. "Let me see if what Roll did was adequate." He made a few adjustments, grumbling quietly to himself, and then let Bass go.

The best part was that Bass was able to find their supplies and get equipped without anyone knowing, taking them all by surprise when he joined the fray.

He even did a good job of avoiding any hits. In reality, the Light 'bots (even Roll!) were all pulling their punches, doing their best to shoot near him or lob the water balloons close by. As robots, this wasn't difficult: they had great aim and physical coordination. As friends, this was an almost Herculean challenge: because the fun was in hitting each other with everything they had.

If Bass figured out what they were up to, he didn't mention it.

"Ha!" He took the opportunity to mock Mega Man. "Look at you, you're soaked! And I'm barely even—"

Unable to help himself, Mega Man hurled a balloon, nailing Bass right in the face.

"You talk! Too! Much!"

"Pffff—! Argh!"

Inside, the in-depth conversation about dry technical subjects had gone way off course.

"…and she's a brilliant software engineer— I think she could've given Wily a run for his money, if she'd applied it to AI and robotics— but the fact of the matter is that I'm just not looking to settle down." Dr. Cossack paused to glance over the rim of his glasses. "If you ask me, I think she's more your type anyway."

Dr. Light laughed. "My 'type'? Since when have I ever had a type?" Then he shook his head. "I'm too old to start dating now, Mikhail. Stop trying to set me up."

"You are never too old for romance," he replied. "Come on, Xavier! At least meet her. You can couch it as a job for some project or another, and see if anything clicks."

"You're not going to let this drop anytime soon, are you?"

"Most certainly not."

Lost in thought, Dr. Light started playing with his beard, twisting strands of hair between his fingers.

"Well… I actually could use some help with—" He cut off and sighed. "Alright, I'll take Dr. Lalinde's com contact information." Then he gave Dr. Cossack a stern look. "But that doesn't mean I'm trying to get back in the game. After this, I expect you to stop hounding me on the issue."

He nodded in agreement, but had a sly look that indicated otherwise. "Of course, of course."

The front door opened and the four robots crowded into the entryway.

They were quite a sight to behold. The battle had turned part of the yard into a mud pit, and not one of them had avoided it. At some point things had devolved into a wrestling match— except it wasn't so much 'wrestling' as it was pushing and shoving, with some punches thrown in for good measure.

Mega Man was the strongest, but Bass was the heaviest, and eventually given up on tactical strategy and simply sat on him. That worked until Break Man and Roll decided to turn it into a dog-pile, both tackling them at the same time.

"…I'll get the pressure washer," Dr. Light said. "Stay there."

Roll pulled a leafy twig out of her hair.

"Why didn't I think of that? It would've kicked this thing to another level," she said.

Dr. Cossack followed Dr. Light. "If you can find me a bucket and some rags, I'll take care of mine…" The water-guns had been questionable, but the pressure washer was just asking for a short circuit.

"I can do it myself!" Bass called after him.

With the tools in hand, everyone was herded back outside.

Roll went first, then took the spray nozzle from Dr. Light and gleefully hosed down her brothers. Mega Man cried out in surprise and did his best to shield his face from the stinging blast. Break Man took off his shades and scarf, then stood with his hands on his hips and chest puffed out.

"Hit me!"

Afterwards Dr. Light passed out towels and clean, dry clothes.

"I want those back," Break Man told Bass, in reference to the borrowed outfit. He finished wiping off his shades and put them back on. The scarf would need laundered, as much as he hated to go without it.

Watching all of this, then looking out onto the ruined backyard, Dr. Cossack slowly shook his head. "Why can't you just play a nice game of football?"

The Light 'bots looked confused. Football was just as liable to tear up the lawn, and they didn't have enough people to play.

"He means soccer," Bass said.

Mega Man's eyes lit up in excitement. It was something he'd wanted to do a while ago, but given up on. Now it was clear that there was no way the other three were going to get out of it.

"So," asked Dr. Light, "who 'won'?"

"No!" Break Man cried.

A fierce argument broke out between Mega Man, Bass, and Roll.

Careful to avoid his sunglasses, he slapped his forehead in dismay. "Why would you ask that?"

The next few months brought excitement and changes. Team Zolotse started their second season of battle 'bot tournaments, with a robot based off of Beat, the small bird-like support unit that Dr. Cossack had built for Mega Man. They would make it further this time, but ultimately come short of the championship round.

The Giertz's announced their pregnancy, much to everyone's excitement. (Except Bass. He was less than thrilled.) With the recent events they'd postponed telling their friends in the 'Wily-Light-Cossack' circle, but Desirée was far enough along that they could no longer keep it under wraps.

After some rather intense discussions the Light family was able to reach an agreement, and after consulting a lawyer and having many, many boring meetings with producers, Mega Man signed off on the movie rights to his life story. It was too early to tell whether or not this would be terrible, but deep down inside they all kind of knew that it would.

For a long time Bass couldn't understand why Dr. Wily'd had such a bad relationship with his mother, and presumed the problem had been on Wily's end. Considering how emotionally dysfunctional Wily was, it wasn't an unfair assumption— even though Ingrid admitted she was never cut out for raising children.

The more time spent with her, the more Bass caught glimpses of the ugliness below the surface.

Ingrid shared Albert's callousness, his cold-hearted indifference, his biting cruelty.

But where Wily had often said mean things, they were usually weak insults, tired and repetitive and impersonal. His mother, on the other hand, was a master of the art. She knew exactly what to say in order to inflict the most damage, using her words with pinpoint precision, effortlessly cutting to the quick. Nothing was sacred. Bass watched her, in a foul mood or feeling ill, destroy one hapless caretaker after another.

"See? This is why your husband left you."
"It's a shame you don't watch your weight, you have such a pretty face…"
"No wonder your daughter turned to drugs."
"Stop blaming other people. You're only here because you were too stupid to pass med school."

He managed to stay out of Ingrid's line of fire. Being the only family member who made the effort to see her, she was careful not to push him away.

…Until her flesh-and-blood grandchildren started coming out of the woodwork, that was. Even with solid proof of Wily's death, the previous fake outs had left them understandably cautious. It took over a year before any of them built up the nerve to reconnect with old Oma Wily.

It very quickly became apparent where Bass ranked in her family hierarchy.

He was a machine, a stand-in, a product of the son she loathed. Better than nothing, but easily cast aside once she no longer had to make do.

New pictures popped up in her collection of digital displays, people Bass had never seen before. They weren't exactly cousins, but…

"Who's this?" he asked, picking up a display featuring a young couple and their apple-cheeked little boy. The mother had Frederick's strong, unmistakable chin.

"What's it matter? They're nothing to you," Ingrid snapped.

As much as it stung, Bass took it in stride. She never went at him full tilt, and he convinced himself she wouldn't— ignoring Dr. Cossack's gentle warnings that she might. After all, she liked him (or at least she had), which was more than he could say for Wily or the staff at the nursing home. She was one of the few people he felt he could trust, had been a pillar of support when he'd needed it most, and he refused to believe she'd ever really hurt him.

So the backhanded compliments and veiled insults, implications that he was somehow inferior, followed by the insistence that he'd just taken it the wrong way… these things Bass learned to ignore. He occasionally protested, but was more likely to just leave.

Things came to a head one day when she was ranting about how terrible Dr. Wily was. It was a topic that came up often, but she'd been going on about it all morning, and didn't seem like she was going to drop it. When ignoring her didn't work, Bass made the mistake trying to defend his creator.

"Wily couldn't have been that bad… if nothing else, he did build me." 

She scoffed.

"Which is why you're both failures. Trash can only create more trash."

Here was his fatal error. "So then what's that make you?"

This earned a dark, mirthless laugh from Ingrid.

"Also trash, but at least I know what I am. You're all mixed up, a clever toy that thinks you're a person."

It was the least subtle jab she'd ever taken at him. In theory, he should've been able to take it on the chin. In practice, the stress from the last few months already had him at the breaking point… and in the end, even at his most restrained, Bass was still hot headed and combative. "How dare you, you useless, dried up—!"

"Shush. Do you know the saddest thing about it? As much as I hate Bertie, he was my son— my real son. I'll still love him more than he ever could've loved an appliance."

For a split-second he reeled in shock.

While Bass and Wily had some truly spectacular fights, they were always a joint effort. Heck, Bass had instigated half of the time— more than half— and the times he hadn't, he'd absolutely escalated things. Dr. Wily had always blown hot and cold, but never reached such extremes as Ingrid did. This was the same woman who'd stroked his hair and called him 'sweetie', who whistled and sang cheerful little tunes off-key, who played chess with a robot and insisted that he not let her win (though he did anyway).

Years ago Wily had told him that humans would 'grind you down into pulp'. At the time, Bass thought he was speaking from general experience. Now he wasn't so sure.

Shock gave way to an even greater rush of anger, and this infuriating sense that he should have seen this coming.

"Take it back," Bass said through clenched teeth.

"No."

"Take it back, you miserable old bag!"

"Don't act like it bothers you." There was a devious glint in her eyes. "Bertie's dead and you're here. If you'd actually cared about him, it'd be the other way around—"

These things he'd felt, things he'd told her when grieving, in pain and at his lowest… she took them and turned them into weapons against him. Before he knew it Bass had a fistful of cheap polyester house dress in his left hand and a charging cannon on his right, and a threat at the tip of his tongue. It was at this point Wily would've panicked, but Ingrid didn't flinch. Instead she fixed him with a stony gaze.

"Let go of me."

Then she spat on him.

Just like that all the rage was gone; in its place a sick, sick feeling.

Bass couldn't get out of there fast enough.

And he never went back.

Expecting to have a quiet afternoon, Dr. Cossack jumped to the obvious conclusion when Bass returned far too early, completely devastated.

"Oh," said Dr. Cossack, leaving his work and approaching with open arms. It was bad. There was no protest, no bluster, no outrage— Bass let him pull him into an embrace. "Oh. It's okay. It'll be okay."

For a few minutes there was a pained silence, Bass shaking from emotion he couldn't express.

Finally, in the most comforting tone he could muster, Dr. Cossack tried to offer his condolences. "I'm so sorry. We knew it was coming, she was up in years. The sad thing we humans only have a short time before—"

Bass abruptly pushed him away.

"She didn't die! But I wish she had—" He wavered between being heartbroken and furious. "That stupid, hateful old bint! The things she said! She— I can't believe— It was…"

He started to pace, an ugly sort of rage building inside him. Dr. Cossack waited patiently while Bass struggled to explain what had happened, too wound up and too angry and trying to keep it contained. He raved and cursed but didn't actually say much. Mikhail was having a difficult time getting straight answers or many details. Evidently they'd had some minor disagreement— something about Dr. Wily— and then the bottom fell out.

Bass stopped mid-sentence, snarled and punched the nearest thing: a computer terminal. The metal case buckled from the impact and the monitor screen cracked.

For a brief moment it looked like he was going to have a violent tantrum right there in the lab, and Dr. Cossack cautiously backed away. Then he realized that breaking things hadn't helped, and buried his face in his hands. 

After what felt like an eternity, he started to calm down. This time he spoke without moving or looking up. "Is it… is it possible for a human to actually love a machine? Really, not like a toy or a pet, but the way they would another person?"

Wordlessly, Dr. Cossack approached and placed both hands on the robot's shoulders, while Bass stood there shuddering and refused to meet his gaze.

"You already know the answer to that." After an uneasy pause, he continued. "Listen. As far as parents are concerned… it doesn't matter if their child is born of their own blood, or built by their own hand, or came into their life some other way. Human, robot, it really, really doesn't matter."

Another minute passed and Bass finally looked up at Dr. Cossack, his expression one of uncertainty.

"I, um, I may have threatened her with my plasma cannon."

"You wouldn't have actually shot her, would you?"

"No… I'd have dropped the charge or shot the wall or whatever."

Dr. Cossack cleared his throat. "Was that before or after calling you an 'appliance'?"

"After."

"Well… you shouldn't point a weapon at a human being. That was bad. But if I'm being honest, I probably would've done the same if I were in your shoes."

Bass was surprised. "Really?"

"Mhmm. Don't do it again." Then he offered a small, encouraging smile. "You're not in trouble."

"…Okay."

"I have some weapons that could use testing, if you wanted to head out to one of the old Skull Fortresses."

"Nah." He looked down at the floor. "I don't even feel like causing mayhem right now."

"Do you want to go see Desirée and Karen?"

"They have their hands full with the baby…"

Dr. Cossack was a bit at a loss, because with Kalinka the answer was always 'strawberry ice cream and a trip to the carousel', even after she was much too old for the carousel.

He had to think about this one.

"How do you feel about fishing?"

Chapter Text

Two hours later and they were leaving the marina in a little boat.

"This is stupid," Bass said.

"Perhaps," Dr. Cossack agreed.

They spent most of the time in peaceful silence, enjoying the gently rollicking sea and nice ocean breeze, occasionally chatting about completely inane topics like movies and video games and if Mega Man could beat various movie superheroes in a fight. Bass wasn't terribly interested in the fishing itself, but let Dr. Cossack walk him through the process anyway.

Eventually Dr. Cossack caught something. Fighting the whole time with the flailing snapper, he weighed and measured it, pulled the hook out with some pliers, and… tossed it back into the ocean.

"Wait, aren't you going to eat it?"

"Ah, no. I can never bring myself to kill them."

"Wh— are you serious? Why are we even out here?"

Some time after that, they each caught a baby halibut, possibly the same one— he didn't bother to get the stats on them. Later still, Bass pointed out a dolphin pod on the horizon.

Squinting and staring in that direction, Dr. Cossack was unable to see them.

"You're pretty good at this stuff," Bass said abruptly, without looking away from the water. He hesitated. "You— you know, like dad stuff." For a brief moment he glanced up and then looked away. "Thank you. For everything."

Before long the sun began to set and they headed back home.

From here the stars were intensely beautiful, brighter than they were from the ground.

Mega Man leaned against the large window, taking his eyes off the stars to look down at the Earth below, appreciating the irony of watching a meteor shower from the remains of Dr. Wily's space station of all places. Most of it had been destroyed, falling from the sky, with smaller chunks burning up on entry and larger piece being blasted apart by military planes or tanks before impact. Some sections had survived, however, and remained in a stable orbit around the planet. He'd been a little surprised that no one claimed it, either restoring it for scientific use or salvaging the material.

While he hadn't exactly forgotten it was up there— you could see reflected light in the night sky just like any other large satellite— it wasn't on the forefront of his mind, and so he rarely ever thought about it. Break Man, on the other hand, didn't just remember… he'd commandeered it as one of his many hideouts.

"Ooh, there." Roll pointed to the blaze of light that streaked across the atmosphere. From the low-orbit vantage point, the 'shooting stars' were visible right over the planet, and the ocean at night meant there were no city lights to compete. "Another one."

As much as he enjoyed the incredible sight, Mega Man was even happier to be invited to another of Break Man's 'retreats'. He'd only been to a few, so it was always pretty exciting.

Bass was more interested in the remains of the station itself. As many times as he'd been in space, he'd never been here, and there were very few of Wily's old forts he hadn't set foot on. He kept looking away from the window to glance around the room and take it all in. Being a space station, its design was different from the typical Skull Fortress. "This place is so cool." He was more annoyed than anything. "I can't believe Wily never made another one."

They continued to watch in silence, until Break Man decided to finally broach the one topic they'd all been avoiding.

"So, how's the movie business going?"

Groaning, Mega Man closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the window.

"That good, huh?"

"You know I actually thought they'd consult me? I wrote up a bunch of notes on the first draft, which they totally ignored, but it doesn't matter because they already threw out that script and fired the writer."

"Idiot," Bass said.

"Yeah, no offense," Roll teased, "but I can't believe you expected anything else."

Mega Man quickly changed the subject. "Hey, how do you guys feel about another soccer game?"

There was an awkward silence as the other three exchanged glances. Of course they'd all had fun and were looking forward to a rematch. But they also knew how Mega Man felt about soccer, and that if they weren't careful this was going to turn into an every weekend thing, and as much as they'd enjoyed it… they hadn't enjoyed it that much.

"What about something Dr. Light and everyone else can join in on?" Roll frantically tried to come up with a suggestion. "Something like… um…"

"Poker."

"Racing."

"…Bowling…" she said tentatively.

The others thought it over.

"Sure," Break Man said eventually, while Mega Man nodded in agreement.

"What's bowling?" asked Bass.

"Six months."

"What!? You're kidding, right? You can't just shut off my combat system for six months!"

"I can, and I will." Dr. Cossack paused to pull off his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose. "What on Earth were you thinking? What gave you the idea that was even remotely acceptable?"

Bass continued to argue. "I need my combat system for, you know, combat. If some alien crash lands tomorrow—"

"Then Mega Man and Break Man will have to handle it on their own. You're grounded."

"You're blowing this way out of proportion."

"You drove a hovertruck into a bowling alley."

"It wasn't a hovertruck. It was a monster truck." He realized that this had been the wrong thing to say, and faltered under Dr. Cossack's stern gaze.

Bass had gotten in trouble before and been grounded like this— but he'd never had Dr. Cossack get genuinely upset with him. Unlike Wily's rage and fury, Dr. Cossack was deeply disappointed, which was somehow far worse. He could handle anger, could counter it. But this? This made him feel bad. He didn't like it.

"It was taking a stand against racism." Even as he said it he knew how much of a pathetic excuse it was, righteous indignation giving way to a sense of shame.

They had all earned lifetime bans from that bowling alley— including Kalinka— when the management discovered that nearly half the party were robots. Thankfully that was far as it went, because Mega Man had nobly taken the blame for the damaged equipment, and no one was about to take any sort of legal action against their world's greatest hero.

That wasn't going to help them here.

"…How did you even reach the pedals?" Dr. Cossack couldn't help ask.

For a half second Bass cheered up and broke into a mischievous grin. He could drive regular hovercars, but height had proved to be a problem with the enormous truck. "Treble took care of that while I steered." Then he looked alarmed. "Oh, crap. I just lost Treble for six months too, didn't I?"

To his horror, Dr. Cossack said nothing, and instead turned to leave. He was even more upset than Bass had realized.

"Sorry," he said sullenly. "That was a really stupid and irresponsible thing to do."

Dr. Cossack paused, backtracked, and took hold of Bass's shoulders.

"Whatever those ignorant people thought about robots— about you, a Wily robot— all you did was prove them right. The building itself can be repaired, but you'll never be able to undo the damage you caused."

Those words were like being stabbed in the heart. Thankfully, Dr. Cossack saw the effect it had and didn't hammer the point.

"And yes, you've successfully talked yourself out of having Treble while grounded."

It turned out to be one of those rare occasions where they simply lucked out.

The place had been losing revenue anyway, and the owner was happy to cut their losses and take the insurance money. To speed things along, they'd already reported the truck crash as an accident.

In the interest of not rocking the boat any further, Dr. Cossack preemptively offered to pay the deductible, and the issue was quietly resolved. He'd been more upset than Bass expected, but not nearly as upset as he should have been. He understood that this acting out was Bass's grief from the fall out with Ingrid, petty jealousy over the Giertz's new child, the lingering stress of almost losing everything now that he had something to lose, the apprehension over the changing relationship between Dr. Cossack and himself.

"I can't believe the stuff you get away with," Mega Man said, incredulous, and possibly a little envious.

Bass shrugged. "Guess I'm just lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with it." Break Man made a point to reach over and flick Bass on the side of the head. "You just happen to be surrounded by people who are willing to clean up your messes."

"Hey, Dr. Cossack. I need some money."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know, zenny."

Dr. Cossack scratched the side of his face and silently regarded Bass for a moment. "For…?"

"Since I can't use my built-in com, I need a handheld one, and the last time Break let me use his but this time he's being a jerk, and—"

"You're assuming that I'll give you permission to use a handheld com in the first place."

Bass fell silent, and looked suitably awkward.

"Permission you haven't asked for. In fact… I don't remember you asking the last time, either…"

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"I am not kidding."

There was an uneasy pause as Bass floundered, uncertain what to do and fighting the instinct to throw a fit.

"Ask me," Dr. Cossack prompted him.

"Can… I… use a handheld com?"

He made a show of pretending to think it over, holding out his hands and pantomiming as if physically weighing the options, then pacing back and forth a few steps while rubbing his chin. "Well, since you asked, instead of just doing it behind my back… yes, you may use a handheld com."

"Then can I have the zenny to get one?"

"No. What kind of example would I be setting if I paid for a toy which allows you to work around the punishment that I'd set for you?"

This time Bass had a quick response. "I'm not asking for your money. You get compensated for those government contracts, right? They're in your name, whatever, but I'm the one who does the work. It's only fair—"

"Ha!" Dr. Cossack slapped his knee, grinning. "Is that what you think? That you should be paid?" When there was no response, he laughed again. "Volchonok, you have yet to break even. I had to underbid as a part of the negotiations. Those agreements— contracts— are to protect both of us from your lack of self control, not to turn a profit. That same lack of self control keeps landing you further in debt. Toad Man, who you mocked, paid for himself in his first eighteen months, and now covers nearly half the overhead for this citadel. Are you sure you want to be keeping score?"

Well, that was it. Bass now officially hated the Cossack 'bots just as much as he'd hated the other Wily 'bots. The com issue momentarily forgotten, he crossed his arms and gave Dr. Cossack a disapproving look.

"You said we were mercenaries, but the way you're describing it now, it's more like you tricked me into doing community service."

"A little of both, perhaps, but my main concern was keeping myself out of jail and you from being impounded."

"…I thought that I was pulling my own weight around here."

"I don't expect you to. This arrangement wasn't conditional—"

"What arrangement? You never officially decided anything! 'No promises', remember?"

Dr. Cossack pressed his fist up against his lips, brows knit, as if lost in thought. "Ah, yes. That's right. Any day now, I might kick you to the curb, or sell you off to the Harts, or deactivate you…"

"It isn't funny."

"Bass, you are completely ridiculous." He reached out and placed a hand on the robot's head, slightly mussing his hair. "Stop worrying. Like it or not, I'm responsible for looking after you. All I ask in return is that you learn to exercise some restraint. The rest is freely given… except for a handheld com. I refuse to buy one."

Cossack Automation Industries was a business, and they put a lot into R&D, but at the end of the day it was still a business— and apparently, Bass was not a source of revenue.

A few days later he brought it back up.

"You could copy and sell some of Wily's tech."

"What makes you think I haven't?"

Bass looked surprised, and Dr. Cossack shook his head, chuckling.

"There wasn't much there, to tell you the truth. There weren't many innovations that applied to my work which Wily hadn't already patented." He waved dismissively. "As far as you're concerned, I believe it's in humanity's best interest to keep your AI off the market, and I wasn't able to reverse engineer that metal you're built from."

Bass looked uneasy. "I can access his patents and some of his old accounts, just not legally, since… you know. I don't have any claim to that stuff."

"Don't worry about it."

"But—"

"I said don't worry about it."

Only he found it impossible not to.

Bass couldn't explain what he felt. He wanted Dr. Cossack to be successful, and more importantly, he wanted to have a part in that… not take from it. Which was a sharp contrast to the conflict he'd felt about Wily's goals or success.

He kept thinking about that, and Break Man's comment about how others were cleaning up after him.

These concerns took him in a strange direction.

After talking to Kalinka and Giertz about it, he came up with a plan and started taking a closer look at the company finances. Dr. Cossack was reasonably good with handling money— a prerequisite for building all of this from nothing, but it certainly wasn't his forte. Bass had no interest in the subject, but he was also technically a walking computer, so auditing credits and debits, reviewing trends in profit margins, finding ways to safely reduce overhead and increase productivity, were all fairly simple tasks.

He found himself going over years of records and invoices and tax returns, then took his findings and suggestions to Dr. Cossack, who was equally parts amused and proud.

"Look at you, doing accounting work."

"Yeah, and I hate it."

Dr. Cossack glanced over the spreadsheet on the portable computer screen. "More or less than lab work?"

"They both suck."

"Heh." He looked back at Bass and smiled. "You don't need to do this, you know."

Bass, in turn, glowered and hesitated before replying. "I know. …I want to— to contribute."

"Well, I appreciate that. Right now, the best way to contribute is to stay out of trouble." Focusing his attention on the spreadsheet, Dr. Cossack murmured softly to himself before continuing. "Although, I wouldn't say 'no' to letting you handle the tax returns…"

As much as he wasn't looking forward to it, Bass was relieved.

Chapter Text

Duo was back, on the trail of a villainous, dark energy fueled robot.

"I'm starting to suspect he actually herds these guys into our solar system."

"Sounds right," said Bass. "What I don't get is how can energy be evil? It's energy… and 'evil' is subjective—"

Holding up a finger, Break Man made a 'shush' gesture. "Shhhhh. Not that again."

Roll was demonstrating her weapons proficiency. So far she'd only been in minor skirmishes, and was looking forward to joining in on a real battle. She was also happy to show off her new armor. Identical to her brothers' uniforms, it was a white aramid polymer suit with peach briefs, the matching helmet, gloves, and boots accented with an orangey coral. A clear visor was a nod to Break Man's shades, and pigtails stuck out from under her helmet.

"Excellent! With the five of us—"

"Four," Mega Man said, casting a pointed look over at Bass, who hadn't even bothered with his armor.

Duo was a little confused. "Four?"

"You should use a human rifle," Roll suggested. "Or borrow Officer Giertz's explosive blaster."

"That's… not a bad idea. But Dr. Cossack would probably kill me."

Glancing around, Duo then shrugged, indifferent. "The four of us, then."

Their enemy was around Duo's size, decked in white and gray armor. It was strange looking, humanoid but with a hideous face on its chest, yellow animalistic eyes and a jagged mouth, a ring-shaped crest where a head would be. It charged forward when it saw them, but didn't seem to have any long range attacks, so the Light 'bots stood by to appraise the situation.

Duo did not. He went to meet the other alien robot head-on— in a manner of speaking— and started grappling with it. "Enkidu! Your fate is at hand!" With that, he proceeded to clock it with his oversized left hand.

"Hey, ugly!" Roll called out with a grin. "I came here to chew gum and kick butt, and robots don't chew gum."

Mega Man blinked in confusion. "Wait, that's not how that quote goes…"

"Are you back seat taunting?"

"What? No, of course not…"

She didn't stick around to listen, she sprinted into the fray and started firing. "Eat hot plasma, loser!"

When Mega Man started after her, Break Man grabbed him by the arm.

"Give her a minute."

Although she fought alongside Duo, she mostly ignored him, darting between and behind the two larger robots, never breaking the steady barrage of shots. It may have been her first real battle, but Roll acted like it was her hundredth. Combat was a very demanding, complex task, and without dedicated hardware to support it, she wouldn't get the same level of performance as the others… only she wasn't about to let a little thing like that slow her down.

Enkidu's hand transformed into a spinning drill-like weapon, and when it thrust out its arm in a broad, sweeping gesture, she slid underneath in a move taken straight from Mega Man. When it swung back the other way, she leapt over it with an impressive double-jump that was totally ripped off of Bass.

Discovering a weak spot between its shoulders, Roll concentrated her efforts there. A well-aimed back kick sent her tumbling head over heels. Mega Man tensed, ready to intervene, but Break Man tightened his grip and shook his head 'no'.

Twisting, she scrambled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the drill, which left a deep uneven fissure as it plowed into the turf.

Roll was undeterred. She jumped to her feet and fired a charged shot at the alien's eye, successfully cracking the lens.

Tenacious. Resourceful. Cocky.

"Man, it's weird, but she kind of fights like… oh." Stealing a quick glance at Break Man, Mega Man tried to keep a straight face. "It's probably best not to say anything."

Break Man didn't even bother to hide his amusement, as a wry grin crept across his face. "Good idea. Now let's go finish this thing."

Joining Roll, the blue bomber landed charged shot after charged shot on Enkidu's upper back. Break Man stayed in front, alternating between zig-zagging back and forth, swinging his shield and then dipping behind it, and taking pot shots at the damaged eye. He was able to keep Enkidu focused on him, while Duo more or less held the other robot in place, allowing Mega Man and Roll to wear it down.

The battle was a little tedious, because Enkidu was overwhelmed but had nearly impenetrable armor and a deep well of evil energy to draw from. It broke free twice, but never for long, and failed to land any serious blows.

When smoke started billowing from the grotesque face, Mega Man gave Roll a quick salute and took a large step back. Nodding, she did a recall, surprising both of her brothers when a hilt materialized in her hand and the green laser flickered to life.

"Where'd you—?"

Lunging, she drove the blade in, and Enkidu shuddered and groaned. Duo held tight for a few more seconds, then let go, grabbed Roll, and crouched over both her and Mega Man. Break Man didn't need to be told to use his shield. Moments later the strange alien robot violently exploded. There was surprisingly little shelling, but the shock wave was powerful enough to fling them several yards away. 

"Are you injured?" Duo asked as he climbed to his feet, brushing hunks of grass and dirt from his shoulders.

Glancing at Roll, then past Duo at Break Man, who was jogging over, Mega Man laughed. "We're fine."

"Good." Smiling, Duo reached down to pat Roll on the head. "You fought excellently. I would not have believed it was the first time." After thinking about it for a moment, he then continued, "Your friend taught you well—"

"I'm self-taught," she said, look of pride turning to one of annoyance.

He was confused. "But your fighting style strongly resembles—"

"Ours," both Mega Man and Break Man said simultaneously.
 
Mega Man smiled sheepishly and placed a hand on Duo's giant wrist, while Break Man threw his arm across Roll's shoulders, praising her as he began leading her away. 

To Break Man's family and close friends, there were few sounds as comforting as his signature whistle. This time Bass didn't even bother to look up from his handheld com— after upgrading to an N12, Lyric had kindly donated her old unit to a 'good cause'— and instead continued to sulk. It was frustrating enough that despite his wild prediction coming true, Dr. Cossack had stayed resolute, keeping him from accessing his native weapon and combat system. The fact that he was only a couple weeks away from being in the clear… that was agonizing.

"Don't feel too bad," Break Man said. "You didn't miss anything. It was a pretty dull fight."

"You're just saying that."

"No, it was a battle of attrition." He leaned against the near wall. "I can't believe you actually sat that one out. Whatever Dr. Cossack's doing, it's working."

Bass shot him a dirty look. "You know it's really rude to teleport straight into someone's room."

"Hey. I'm proud of you."

He didn't respond right away. "Why? I wouldn't have had to 'sit this one out' if I hadn't messed up in the first place. It doesn't matter how I'm doing now— because sooner or later I'll mess up and get in trouble again."

"I'm sure you will."

"Shut up."

"It's just a part of the process. You move forward, sometimes you trip and stumble, but then you get back up and keep going." He paused to laugh. "Remember when we first met? You deceived Mega Man, tricked him into bringing you to the lab, stole his upgrades, attacked Dr. Light— a defenseless old man, and destroyed half the lab out of sheer malice."

Then Break Man smiled warmly at him, despite dredging up his villainous past.

"I look at you now, and I don't see anything left of that jerk. Sure, you still have a bad temper and even worse impulse control, but the person you used to be? He's been gone."

Bass thought it over, then smirked.

"Are you actually proud?"

"Why, are you looking for validation?"

"N-no…"

"Heck yeah, of course I am." Break Man snapped his fingers. "Oh, by the way. It looks like Wily accidentally copied a bunch of your combat utilities over to Roll."

"What."

Break Man's words were meant to be reassuring, and in some ways they were.

But they also got him thinking about all the awful things he'd done over the years. Bass was originally built to fight and destroy Mega Man, so he felt no remorse over any of that— he hadn't killed him, wasn't that enough in itself?

The times he'd been needlessly cruel, however, or gone out of his way to cause trouble, or when he'd done things that had harmed Dr. Light, Break Man, and others… those were things he regretted.

"Oh, hello," Dr. Light said, surprised by his unannounced arrival at the lab. "I'll let Rock know you're here."

"No need. I'm not looking for either of those two chumps."

Both Dr. Light and Roll looked at him quizzically. "Is… there something I can help you with, then?"

"Kind of." Bass shifted, uneasy. "Uh, do you remember when I stole those upgrades for Rush?"

"Yes, of course. Why?"

"That… that was a lousy thing to do. I could have got the plans without wrecking the lab, or attacking you, or whatever."

"Ah… I see."

"Was that supposed to be some kind of apology?" asked Roll. "Because if so, it stinks."

"It's quite alright, Roll." Dr. Light waved his hand, signaling for peace. "I appreciate it anyway."

"Ugh. Nah, she's right. I— sorry for being such a jerk."

He chuckled, his laughter full of warmth. "What a pleasant surprise. Thank you."

Bass should have left then, but he hesitated. There was another thing that had been bothering him.

"Hey, I was wondering, did you— did you and Wily used to be like boyfriends or something?"

Roll was outraged, because it was none of his business either way. Dr. Light's expression was unreadable as thought over the response, as if it could be anything but 'yes' or 'no'.

"Does it matter now?" he said finally, giving a cryptic non-answer.

Talking a mile a minute, Bass hadn't shut up since he returned. Normally Dr. Cossack didn't have trouble following him, but this went beyond what was normal.

Thankfully he already knew the basics, because he and Dr. Light— along with two other Dr. Lights and a Dr. Wily— had been monitoring the situation as it unfolded. They were not the only ones. Many Dr. Lights (not all of them Thomas), Dr. Wilys, Dr. Cossacks (some of which were Kalinka), a couple Dr. Lalindes, and a solitary Dr. Hikari, had worked hard to fix the damage and get everyone safely home.

The whole affair was the handiwork of yet another Dr. Wily, one who'd tampered with forces beyond his control and very quickly found himself in over his head.

One by one, different versions of Mega Man across various dimensions and timelines were pulled into the epic multiverse crossover.

Some of them Mega Man— their world's Mega Man— had already met. Others were a surprise. For example, many of the Mega Men were childlike in their design and personality, but one was a literal child, who went to elementary school and everything. Not all of them were even robots. One was an advanced computer program, a purely digital being. Another, some sort of Frankenstein-esque creature, a golem built from a reanimated body.

Break Man, Roll, and Bass had tagged along, discovering that most dimensions had a version of themselves as well.

Break Man was a little annoyed to find he was one of the few to go by that name. Most of his counterparts were 'Proto Man'. He was disheartened that his good relationship with Dr. Light was just as rare. Almost all of them were Mega Man's older brother, but the nature of their brotherhood ranged from supportive to antagonistic.

Roll was often the little sister that stayed at home, but was happy to find several versions of herself had been armed and even fought against Wily— something she'd missed out on. In fact, there was one Roll who not only fought at Mega Man's side, but who was actually built but her version of Dr. Wily, only to be taken in by Dr. Emilia Light… Thomas's daughter.

By and large, the different versions of Bass were very much alike. Most were still stuck in their dysfunctional relationship with their creator, with varying degrees of disloyalty. Needless to say, Bass didn't like them— but then, none of them really liked any of the others.

Now that he was back, Bass spent hours ranting about the psychotically violent Forte; that the schoolboy Aki's 'verse had neither a Break Man or a Bass, but some kid who was a bit of both; how another version of himself had accidentally been bricked by that ones Wily.

Then there was the fact that the digital Bass.exe wasn't made by a Dr. Wily at all.

In the midst of it all, with both heroes and villains struggling to untangle the mess and set the multiverse straight… Bass.exe hijacked one of his corporeal counterparts and went hunting for Dr. Cossack. Any Dr. Cossack.

Bass found himself invariably working alongside two random Proto Men— 'Archie' Proto Man (who used his world's unofficial nickname) and 'Whistler' (who opted to name himself)— as well as a couple of 'Capcom' Cossack Robot Masters, to stop him.

"And what did they call you?" Dr. Cossack asked, interrupting him.

"It's not important," Bass replied.

The Dr. Wilys and fellow Wily 'bots had taken to calling him 'Comrade Bass', which he didn't appreciate. Only 'Capcom' Dr. Cossack called him by his chosen alias… to everyone else he'd ended up 'Wolfie'.

'Capcom' Dr. Cossack had been confused more than anything, having never interacted with the 'Capcom' Bass, but he'd also been sympathetic. Even after the danger passed, he had let him stay at the citadel.

For Bass, that experience was nothing short of surreal.

"They're like one big happy stupid family." There was a sort of bitterness in his voice.

"That Dr. Cossack and his robots?"

"Yeah. All the 'Capcom' Robot Masters were self aware and everything. Actually… it was like that for most of the universes. The way things are here is kind of different." Then, adamantly, "Of course, every version of me was still way stronger and better than all the other Robot Masters."

"Ah, of course." Dr. Cossack had a pretty good idea what was bothering him. "You know, all human beings are self aware, sentient, and sapient individuals. It is the 'individual' part that makes each one of us special."

Bass rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, 'Capcom' Cossack said basically the same thing."

As much as he went on and on (and on) about his own counterparts, or the strange links that seemed to transcend dimensional boundaries, or the other versions of Break Man, Dr. Cossack, Mega Man, and even Roll… Bass had very little to say about Dr. Wily.

"It was really weird having all those different Wilys around. The one I stayed with at first, the 'Archie' one, was nicer than— anyway, that Bass had no idea how good he has it."

"Hmm."

Mikhail could only imagine how much a shock it must have been. Truth be told, he'd confessed to both Dr. Right and 'Battle Network' Dr. Wily that he was afraid Bass might not come back. After all, the Wily 'bot had admitted more than once that he would return to his creator if possible.

It was a silly thing to be worried about.

Two days later it came up in the middle of a conversation about manufacturing equipment amortization. "Seeing Wily alive—" Bass said, completely out of the blue, "It was— it made me—"

A dark expression flashed across his face and he glared at the ground.

"I'm… I'm glad. I miss him so much, but… I'm glad he's gone."

Dr. Cossack barely caught himself before saying 'Not as glad as I am', instead choosing his next words carefully. "As far as I'm concerned it's the only thing he ever did right." That was taken the wrong way, judging by Bass's look of distress. "As a father, I mean."

"He wasn't—"

Holding up a hand, Dr. Cossack gestured for silence. "Parents are supposed to support their children, even when it means sacrifice. You were never going to have a life of your own as long as Dr. Wily was around. What he did protected you from Zero, yes, but it also… gave you freedom. It was a gift. Gifts should be appreciated."

It turned out that Mega Man was in just as much turmoil.

"I just… I don't know. I'm feeling… restless…? All I ever wanted was peace, and the last few years have been pretty much everything I wished for, and now…"

"Now you're bored." Break Man laughed. "I can't believe Bass adjusted to civilian life better than you have."

"That's not true!"

Or maybe it was.

Being around all those alternate versions of himself had been… interesting… to say the least. Discovering that their world was just one of many dubbed a 'Super Smash-Captain N continuum' was a bit of a shock. Seeing how some of his fellow Mega Men were still deeply involved in their own 'VideoLand' dimension made him, well, nostalgic.

Things weren't the same since the Mushroom Kingdom had entered the picture, but if he was being honest, he'd drifted away long before that. There had been a lull between when Mother Brain retreated to Metriod and before Bowser showed his ugly mug.

The team he once knew had split up— with Kevin finally finding his way home, and Lana ascending to the throne. There was a Simon Belmont, but it was a different Simon, one from another universe. Kid Icarus— now going by his real name, Pit— was still around, but he had his mirror counterpart Dark Pit as company. There were others: Link and Princess Zelda were there, as was Samus.

But by and large, he didn't recognize the team of heroes who now championed the Palace of Power.

"Your friends moved away and now you don't feel welcome."

"It's not that straightforward," he protested.

"Isn't it, though?"

He didn't dignify that with a response.

"And let's be honest. With Dr. Wily out of the picture, it's been years since our world has had a threat that Roll couldn't handle."

"What are you saying, Break? I should come out of semi-retirement and move back to the Palace of Power? Trust Roll not to get in over her head, and Bass not to wreck everything we worked for?"

His brother chuckled. "I'm not saying anything. It's just that the whole multiverse adventure thing gave all of us a lot to think about."

"Oh?" He studied him carefully for a moment. "So what did it give you to think about?"

There was a long pause, as Break Man considered just how to answer that.

"I know Drs. Light and Cossack don't want anyone else using the AI Wily developed, but I wonder if Dr. Lalinde is interested in building some robots."

Mega Man burst out laughing.

"Like Tempo! Why, so you can have a girlfriend?"

His laughter petered out as he realized that Break Man was serious.

Chapter Text

"Wer Honig lecken will, darf die Bienen nicht scheuen." - German Proverb

Mega Man was obligated to attend the movie premier, and both Dr. Light and Roll had gone with him. A few days later, dressed casually, he went with Break Man, Roll, Bass, and Kalinka. It was nice having the gang together again.

Afterwards they left in silence and headed for the monorail. He felt a growing anxiety as the quiet stretched on, the others lost in thought.

"Well?" he said, when just couldn't bear it any longer.

"They sure made some, ah, choices." Kalinka said, diplomatically as possible.

"It was terrible!" With that, Bass started cracking up. "Absolute garbage."

Break Man shrugged. "Honestly? I'm just stunned it actually got released, after all those years stuck in development."

"You weren't even the main character!" Bass continued. "What was all that crap about Roll and some random made-up 'Marie Lou' robot—"

"That's not what a 'Marie Lou' is. We've been over this. "

For a moment Kalinka and Bass argued about what defined the character archetype. All the while Roll had a strangely amused look on her face. "Trancy wasn't made up. Or the plot. It's the history of the so-called 'Pachislot' universe— remember, when we had that whole multiverse adventure?"

"Do we remember— are you for real? Based on a true story or not, it was still a complete disaster. The only cool part was Proto Man's scenes. I can't believe I was mad about not being in it."

"Hey." Break Man came to a stop. "Rock, I thought you said they didn't take any of your suggestions."

"Yeah…"

It was something of a sore spot.

"And I can't imagine they'd have asked Dr. Light or Roll for input, either."

The others looked at him in confusion.

"So, how did they know about the multiverse and that version in particular? None of that was covered by the netnews, the public doesn't know anything about it."

There was a long, very uncomfortable pause.

"It's another one of those weird connections that extends beyond our separate worlds," said Mega Man, thinking it over.

"Like what?" Kalinka asked.

"Like how Mega Man's armor is always blue," Roll replied, "and Break, er, Proto Man always wears shades."

"No, it's like how I used 'Forte' as a username, and Rockman's Bass is named Forte for real."

"More like how that Aki kid has a human sister and it's Suna," said Break Man.

Kalinka's eyebrows shot up and she whipped around to look at Bass. "You never mentioned that. Is she… that Dr. Light's daughter?"

"Oh yeah." Break Man smirked as he answered. Roll started giggling.

"Don't," Bass said. "Just don't."

"Well… wait." She had a strange look on her face. "Wait. Do we know who our Suna's biological—"

"NO. No, Kalinka! I said 'don't'!"

"But—"

"He's not her dad! He's too old and it's disgusting and— ugh! No!"

As for Mega Man, he was every bit as horrified by the possibility as Bass was.

"I believe congratulations are in order, Dr. Cossack." Dr. Light was beaming as he offered a firm handshake and a playful wink.

"Please, 'Dr. Cossack' is my father's name. Call me Kalinka."

She broke free from his grip to give him a hug.

"How about 'Doc Cossack'," Roll suggested.

"Dr. Cee," said Bass. "No— Dr. Kaycee."

"Ohh! Dr. Goldilocks."

Shaking her head, Kalinka went to greet some of her sorority sisters and school friends. Amid the compliments and well wishes, she introduced the people from her separate lives. After years of compartmentalizing, it was only a matter of time before the two worlds came crashing together.

Being that most of her cohorts were also engineering majors, they were fascinated by the androids and thrilled to meet them. Mega Man was gracious as ever, but as questions grew increasingly personal and inappropriate, Roll and Bass got increasingly rude— and professional punk kid wrangler Break Man was nowhere in sight.

In an effort to get some space, Kalinka headed outside… where she ran into the missing red and gray robot. "Ah, how about that? I was trying to catch a break, instead I caught a Break Man."

"Very funny," he replied, sarcastic but with a broad smile.

"Walk with me?"

"Sure." Linking his arm in hers, they headed across the yard. It was always a little strange, seeing her get older— and taller. So much taller. Break Man could remember carrying her away from the cell in Dr. Wily's stronghold… of course, he was strong enough to do so even now, but at the time she'd been shorter than him.

She glanced down, amused, and reached over with her right hand. "Here, let me fix your hair…"

"You're not going to make this weird, are you?"

"No, no. Of course not."

For a while Kalinka talked about some of her job prospects now that she was out of school, and how she didn't want to take the easy route and work for Cossack Automation. But inevitably the conversation veered off course.

"You know, I used to have such a schoolgirl crush on you."

He heaved a sigh. "I knew you were going to make this weird."

"It's not weird! I said I used to."

Coming to a stop, Break Man pulled away. "Just get on with it, Kally."

"…Well… I mean, I always wondered—"

"Yes. Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "That too. Wow, that's a really personal question, but… uh, yeah. Yes. Same but also different. 'In what way?' Well for starters, I'm a robot—"

Kalinka burst into laughter. "You goofball."

Then she leaned forward, giving him a quick, fleeting kiss.

"Wh— um— I, uhh—" For once the normally cool, collected Break Man was completely flustered.

"Sorry Blues, I just needed to know."

He coughed, waved dismissively, and desperately tried to regain composure. "Look, ah, I hate to— to friendzone you, kid. But I think of you strictly as a little sister."

She laughed again. "Don't you take it the wrong way. I'm already seeing someone."

"Well, don't you take it the wrong way, because I— I got nothing."

Then it dawned on her. "Wait. That wasn't your first kiss, was it?"

It was.

Normally Dr. Cossack was an early riser, but he'd slept in for a change, getting up well after his current 'guest'. After catching a quick shower, he found her making a valiant but disastrous attempt to cook breakfast.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. My ex used to say that I could burn water…"

"It's no problem, don't worry about it."

He stepped in to give her a hand, and she gave him a funny look, then leaned over to whisper.

"You know, Red, your son is really weird."

There was a small pause as he glanced over his shoulder at Bass, who was at the table doing heaven only knows what, working with some small electrical tools and power stone fragments. Whatever it was, it wasn't really appropriate for brunch, as demonstrated by the sharp smell of ozone.

"Heh. Yes, yes he is."

A few years after their fall out, Ingrid died quietly in her sleep, which sometimes was all that one could ask for.

When Bass heard about it he swung by the nursing home, for reasons he couldn't quite explain. There was some lanky redhead there, with a heavily pockmarked face and that same family chin. He was sorting through Ingrid's effects and boxing stuff up, and startled when Bass walked in the room.

"Oh! You're, uh, you're the, uhh, um, y'know… aren't you?"

He wiped off a grubby hand on his jeans and then held it out.

Surprised, Bass hesitantly shook his hand. "Bass Wily."

"Nice— uh, nice to meet you. I'm Fort Hitler." He chuckled nervously at his joke, and Bass rolled his eyes.

"Not 'base' like a settlement, moron, like the music term. My dog's name is Treble."

"Huh, cute. Yancy Fillmore."

Normally he'd have protested anyone calling his name 'cute', but with Ingrid's death, Bass was in a weird place emotionally. He understood what she'd felt when Wily died, saying she was neither relieved nor grieved.

He glanced around the room. Ingrid's side was mostly cleaned up. "Well, Nancy, I see you're pretty much done here, so—"

Then he fell silent when he caught sight of her digital displays, still clustered on the dresser top. There were even more pictures now: grandchildren, in-laws, great-grandchildren, even a few happy looking dogs. There were holiday greeting cards— what kind of weirdos still mailed stuff these days?— and screenshots of netzine articles and some crudely made paper flowers.

His picture was still there, the original one where he had Treble Boost equipped…

…plus recent one, dressed in normal clothes, with a stupid grin and flashing a victory sign, free arm draped across Break Man's shoulders. Roll had taken that picture. How in the world Ingrid had got a copy…

…and another one, powered off and looking uncharacteristically serene, about 85% rebuilt after being blown to pieces. A tastefully cropped, rather clinical shot taken in Dr. Cossack's lab, a part of the repair progress documentation…

…holding baby Suna, wincing as the curious toddler pawed at his face, attempting to jam her chubby fingers into his eyes and nose. That was one of Desirée's photos…

…over half the netzine articles were of his (and Mega Man's) quote-heroic-unquote misadventures.

Bass sat down hard and buried his head in his hands.

Yancy awkwardly clambered down onto the floor next to him. "One time she told me that my mom was a pill-popping hussy, and if she hadn't been such a coward she would've got an abortion, which would've been better because then my parents wouldn't have been stuck in a loveless marriage…" He paused, and when Bass didn't say anything, continued, "…and that was the real reason she shot herself."

"Is any of that true?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"It's kinda vaguely true-ish? I think all Oma's kids had some kind of substance abuse problem. Mom definitely wasn't a— y'know, but Oma called her one because… oh, she dared to have a life before she got married. And yeah, it wasn't a good marriage, and yeah, they stayed in it 'cause of me and my little brother." Yancy scratched the back of his head. "After like, the third or fourth time he tried to take over the world, some netnews journalist tracked mom down and outed her as Dr. Wily's sister. Maybe all that other stuff contributed, but… she totally did herself in because the whole Dr. Wily thing."

There was a very brief pause, but apparently Yancy hated silence and had some sort of compulsive need to fill it with noise.

"Also, Oma always called me 'Pizza Face'. Even when she was on a morphine drip and had one foot in the grave."

Another ten seconds of quiet passed.

"Is it true she spit on you?"

Bass lifted his head. "Do you ever shut up?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, she did."

"Wow. That stinks. Oh shoot! I owe Velma five bucks. Sorry, we heard that story from Oma's old roommate, and had a running bet if it was true or not." He rocked back slightly, glancing over at the picture displays. "I think the more Oma got to know us, the more she hated us, you know? And the more she hated us, the more she liked 'that robot'. Plus she got convinced we were after an inheritance, even though she was in debt. Anyhow— you do realize you were her favorite, right?"

"Yancy. Stop. Talking."

He managed a peaceful thirty seconds.

"She was just such a hateful, mean-spirited battle axe. A total harpy. Way too proud to reach out and apologize for—"

"Yancy!"

"Sorry. Sorry."

Bass gave him an uneasy look. "She said that Wily was dead because of me, and since I wasn't real that he didn't— that he couldn't— couldn't ever love an appliance."

For once, Yancy had nothing to say. He very tentatively reached over and put his hand on Bass's back, between his shoulders.

"…I did pull a plasma cannon on her, so maybe I deserved the last part."

"Dude, I'm pretty sure calling a, um, robot— android?— android that is like, uh, hate speech or something."

He seemed conflicted. "Legally, I am."

"Yeah, well, what's legal and what's right are two different things, right?" He slowly got to his feet.

Suddenly Bass grimaced, quickly hiding his face with his hands. "I should've been there. I should have said goodbye." He shuddered. "This is just going to keep happening."

"What? No way, you just need less haters in your life—"

"No, no, I…" He shot him a strange, hollow look. "I can't—" Then he stood, headed over to the dresser and picked up one of the digital displays, tossing it to Yancy.

He fumbled, dropped it, bent over and picked it up. "Cute kid."

"That's Suna, my friend's little girl…"

"Like your god-daughter?"

"Something like that." After browsing the pictures, Bass picked up the one with the mystery couple and their son, who Ingrid had refused to identify. "Who is this?"

"That's Velma, my cousin, her husband Ned and their son. Oh, I guess… 'our' cousin…?"

Quietly he set down the display. "Eventually they'll all be dead."

"Uh… yeah?"

"Dr. Cossack, Kalinka, Karen and Desirée, then Suna, and if she has any kids then them too— but I won't. I'll watch Suna get old and die, and I'll be exactly the same as I was when she was born. It'll just keep happening. It's not going to get any better. Or any easier."

"Man. That's deep."

There was actual, real, blissful silence after that.

Faced with that sad reality, Bass couldn't help but wonder: was it worth it?

For once he understood Wily. The idea that people couldn't let you down if you never put faith in them, that they couldn't break your heart if you didn't have one. Wily had believed that love wasn't worth the pain, and drove away everyone in his life.

It wasn't an outlook Bass agreed with, but now all he could think about was how it had felt after the stroke— when the transient nature of human life really sank in. Break Man described it as 'that sickening feeling, knowing your father is only human, and someday he's going to die'. The idea of going through it again, with Dr. Cossack, and then everyone else he cared about…

…maybe Wily was right.

It wasn't even like he had to choose between humans and complete isolation. He had Blues, Rock, Roll— heck, even Duo, who was just one of an entire species of mechanical lifeforms, not to mention robots from other dimensions like Signal, Pulse, Nono, Rom Stol…

"Sorry about your mother," Bass said suddenly.

"Thanks. It's fine, I was like six when it happened." Yancy offered a warm smile as he put the other picture back. "You gonna be there at the funeral?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if we don't catch you then, P.J. and Lila always do a family 'Pumpkintoberfest' and the last couple years it sort of turned into a family reunion thing."

"That's a made up holiday."

"Anyway, you're welcome to crash the party."

"…how come you're so accepting? Most people who know I'm a robot assume I'm some advanced walking computer."

"To be fair, um, you are. Kind of like how I'm just a complex brain in a meat suit, right?" He chuckled, but Bass was not amused. "I happen to be an open minded guy. Plus, Dr. Light explained the whole situation back when—"

"Dr. Light?" Bass did a double-take. "Dr. Thomas Xavier Light?"

"Oh yeah. Oma was practically his mother-in-law, you know? Even when Dr. Wily was around he'd always visit her on her birthday. Then when the rest of the family reconnected, he started coming for Alvistine, Liberty Day, heck he even showed up for last year's Pumpkintoberfest…"

Incredulous, Bass ran his fingers through his hair as he stared into space. "Doctor… Light… Un-fricken'-believable."

But in a way it made sense. Dr. Light was an only child, the son of two only children, the last vestige of a dying lineage. His only relatives were his creations. There was a kind of delicious irony in the fact that he'd clung to the family that Wily had driven away.

Bass tried to go to the funeral— when else was he going to get the chance to wear that cool skeleton tie?— but ultimately couldn't bear to go in for the service. Afterwards, Dr. Cossack joined the procession and drove him to the cemetery, but there too he stayed in the hovercar. A few people nodded or waved as they walked past.

A few months later Dr. Cossack received a package for him. Yancy's letter was brief and to the point: Ingrid Wily couldn't legally will Bass anything, but she'd made it clear what she wanted him to have. There was some sort of religious medallion on a gold chain, which had belonged to her mother and she'd worn up until her death. A box of printed photographs that were never digitalized. A few of Ingrid and Frederick, and of all three children, but many had already been distributed to the appropriate family members… leaving mostly pictures of Albert. As an infant and a toddler, as a surprisingly adorable little kid, as an awkward teen, as a young man with something to prove. With the photos was a lock of brown hair, faded and sun-damaged, letters from summer camp, and embarrassing hand-written poetry. The poems were comically bad.

One photo featured twenty-something Albert Wily and Thomas Light, both dirty and frazzled and overworked, arms linked in a triumphant display as they stood behind their first working robot. It was utilitarian and not humanoid, but their pride in it was obvious. Bass scanned the picture and sent a copy to Dr. Light, then tacked the original to the inside of his access panel. The pendant he wore and never took off.

Then, when Harvest Celebration rolled around, Bass asked Dr. Light about the reunion at the Fillmore's house. He went, but only ended up staying for a little over an hour, because frankly it was pretty overwhelming…

…but a few weeks later he returned, along with Dr. Cossack and Kalinka, for the Mega Bowl.

- the end -

Chapter Text

Dr. Cossack tried to calm himself, but his heart was still racing. "Proto Man…"

"It's 'Archie' Proto Man, if you don't mind," he replied with a crooked grin. "These guys are 'Whistler' and 'Comrade Bass'."

"Ugh. Only Wilys and the other SWNs call me that."

"Well, thank you all for saving me. I suppose you would call me the 'Capcom' Dr. Cossack."

'Archie' Proto Man took a moment to pull him aside. "The 'Miranda' world no longer has a Dr. Wily, so apparently that Dr. Cossack took him in."

It was clear what he was getting at, without even saying who. Dr. Cossack shot a nervous glance over at the Wily 'bot. He'd never met his own world's Bass, much less spoken to him, much less invited him into his home. Honestly, the whole thing felt like a really convoluted Wily plot. His gut told him 'no', that this is a trap, and his head was inclined to agree, but his heart…

Clearing his throat, Dr. Cossack straightened up and approached. "Well then, comrade, what does everyone else call you?"

"My name is Bass," he replied with a scowl.

"'Wolfie'," said 'Whistler'.

"Hmm. I was thinking that Dr. Light and, ah, Dr. Wily must be overrun with Mega Men and Proto Men and Bass…es. If you needed a place to stay—"

"Sure." His tone was dismissive, but Bass looked not-so-secretly relieved.

Hoping that he hadn't just made a terrible mistake, Dr. Cossack waved over the nearest Cossack 'bot. He leaned forward to whisper to Toad Man. "Please tell Skull Man and Ring Man to keep an eye on our, er, guest. And I would like Dive Man and Pharaoh Man to stay with Kalinka at all times…"

For the most part, however, Bass kept out of their way. Dr. Cossack contacted Dr. Light— the 'Capcom' Dr. Light, who was indeed overrun— and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Yes, as it turned out. He found himself receiving massive files of data to track and compile. He hadn't even finished downloading them when Ring Man contacted him.

"Sooo, uh, that guy is hanging out in of the storage rooms like a weirdo."

"Okay. Thank you for the update." With a sigh, he checked Ring Man's location and headed out.

Sure enough, Bass was standing around by the doorway to a seemingly random storage room, out of armor and slightly agitated about something.

"Can I help you? Is there something you're looking for?"

He startled at Dr. Cossack's words. "I— no. Yes? No. I was just— Tch. It's stupid. I don't know what I was expecting, of course it's just storage."

"What else would it…?" Then it clicked. "Ah, this must be your room, isn't it?" It was sentimental of him, but he had few enough Robot Masters that he could give each of them their own space in the citadel. It made sense that this other universe's Dr. Cossack would do the same.

Although Bass didn't respond, Dr. Cossack could tell he'd hit the nail on the head.

"All of this junk can be transferred to another location—"

"No. No, don't bother. I'm not going to be here that long. Hopefully."

"Listen, Bass— er, 'Wolfie'—" With that, something else dawned on him. "Ah, wait. As in a small wolf? A cub?" Dr. Cossack didn't know Bass, but he knew himself. "Like 'Volchonok', perhaps?"

This, too, was spot-on. Instead of finding it comforting, Bass look struck. He stepped back, right up against the wall, and then sank to the floor.

Dr. Cossack exchanged glances with Skull Man and Ring Man, then placed a hand on Skull Man's shoulder. "Please, some space."

Once they'd left, he sat down next to the Wily 'bot. Overwhelmed, Bass hunched forward and stared hard at the opposite wall.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to want something so bad it hurts, but then you finally get it, and… it turns out it's not what you want all?"

"Yes. Although, not exactly on the same scale."

"Now all I want is to go home."

"You will. We'll fix this, I promise."

"…Right." Bass was quiet for a few moments, then started to say something, only to cut himself off. Then, abruptly, "You know, Wily— my Wily— saved me from…" He hesitated. "I better not say, I don't know if that's future stuff for your world or what."

Where the 'Archie' Dr. Wily had been sympathetic, most of the other Basses wanted nothing to do with him. As if he were some kind of traitor. It was bad enough being surrounded by duplicates. The few who understood were also outliers, and they'd all had pretty much the same reaction to Zero's name:

"Huh? What'n the blazes are you on about?" 'Walking Dead' had asked.

"Who, that stupid girlie-looking loser Wily hasn't got around to finishing?" This was ironic coming from 'Alto', but when he'd said as much she socked him in the eye.

"Wily locked him away. He'll never be activated." 'Glitch' was the closest thing Bass'd had to a friend since losing track of Break Man and the others. "Look, my world's Rock finally got through on the com. I'm ditching these morons and going to Dr. Light. You coming with?"

(He'd opted to stay, which worked out for the best. Who knew what Bass.exe would've done if he hadn't been there? Talk about issues. None of them were a paragon of stability, but that guy was somehow worse than the chaotic evil Forte.)

"Anyway. He… that's why he's dead. To keep me from being destroyed. I know it's not really my fault, but it still… it still happened because of me."

There was a quiet lull as Dr. Cossack thought over his response.

"You know, when I decided to build my own Robot Masters, the technology was still very new. The only real examples were those of Dr. Light's… and Dr. Wily's. As much as I admired Dr. Light and Mega Man for doing what had to be done, I never wanted to build a robot that would cause harm or destruction."

"Hn." There was a slightly derisive edge to his tone, as if he wanted to dispute that, but didn't actually say anything.

"Of course, Skull Man and Ring Man were made for nothing but harm and destruction. When my Robot Masters were finally freed from Dr. Wily's control and I was able to repair them, I debated if those two should be rebuilt as well. After all… I… I had only made them under duress, and to his specifications." He paused and sighed, then offered a slight smile. "But none of that was their fault. They couldn't help the circumstances that they were built, or what they had been designed to do. While the others had their freedom taken from them, Skull Man and Ring Man never had freedom to begin with."

"Does this story have a point? No offense."

He chuckled. "You can't just say something offensive and then add 'no offense' to the end."

Bass shrugged.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is… I think I understand."

Nodding, he drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, looking terribly lost. Dr. Cossack sighed. Kids. 

"Do you need a hug?"

The expression he had said 'yes, but I'll never ever admit it', so Dr. Cossack didn't wait for an answer. Bass tensed for a moment, but then relaxed and clutched the sleeve of his lab coat.