Hi everyone! ^-^ This is a songfic I finished while I was depressed over a few things and when I was supposed to be working on my ChibiUsa & Hotaru manga story. ^^;;; It’s about Zero from Rockman X and hopefully it shows the pain a ‘hero’ endures. I really hope you like it. ^-^ It's to the song 'Superman' by Five for Fighting. Superman by Amazoness Duo amazonessduo@hotmail.com “I can’t stand to fly. I’m not that naïve. I’m just out to find The better part of me” Zero gazed across the ruined cityscape, his Z-saber still held firmly in his gloved hand as he surveyed the carnage. It was like some vision straight from a horrible nightmare. What made it even worse was that he knew he was responsible for a good portion of it. All in the line of duty, of course. But sometimes he wondered if that was enough. He was causing just as much damage as the Irregulars. What was the difference? Both sides were fighting for peace, but a peace that would fulfil their own objectives. And what was Zero trying to do? He was an Irregular Hunter, but did he really believe wholeheartedly in their ideals? He didn’t know anymore. They were good ideals. To protect the humans from those Repliroids that had turned against them. But the Irregulars had their own ideals. They wanted to have the freedom long denied them by their human creators. The blond robot didn’t fool himself into thinking that he believed in all of the Irregular Hunters ideals. The truth of the matter was that he had to keep fighting. He had to keep running. From whom or what, he was uncertain. But he knew that the only solace he found, his only form of escape was deep in battle. Trying to set things right. But he had no idea how he could ever possibly put things right. Things were far too complicated for a simple battle to solve. So Zero kept scrambling from battle to battle, continuing his war against the Irregulars. No, that wasn’t what he was fighting. That was a specification of his job as the leader of Zero Unit. His personal war was being waged against Sigma. That’s what had led him this far. Whether he was running away from his problems or head on into them, he only knew he had to keep going. “I’m more than a bird, I’m more than a plane, I’m more than some pretty face beside a train. And it’s not easy to be me.” Zero was the ultimate warrior. He was strong, quick, very nearly unstoppable. A ruthless killer if he had to be. Someone who would accomplish the mission objectives no matter what the situation. But that wasn’t necessarily true. He was so much more than that. He was a lost and confused soul. He was a traveler, weary of his travels and where they might take him. He was a wounded child, hiding amidst the rubble, hoping someone would come along and save him. Yet he held up the image that he had projected around himself from very near his activation, hiding behind the strong warrior that everyone believed him to be. He could play his part well enough. It protected him in the same way he tried to protect those that he fought for. Let them believe what they wanted. It was safer that way, to be cold, to not give in to the emotions that boiled within his soul. He was calm and collected, always cool under fire. He was inches away from the edge of chaos, dancing ever closer to the ledge and just about to plunge into madness. “I wish that I could cry, Fall upon my knees. Find a way to lie, About a home I’ll never see.” His image was so close to shattering and no one noticed. Not the Irregulars that he spent so much time stalking nor his comrades back at the Irregular Hunters. In the end, they were no different. They were all lonely souls, fighting for their beliefs in an endless war that seemed to spiral out with him at it’s very core. He didn’t know how much time he could keep fighting. His will was slipping. After Iris’s death, he had to rethink just what he was fighting for. And he still didn’t know. X. But one day he would have to kill X to save everything. And he would do it in an eye blink. But in doing so, he would be killing himself as well, finally breaking the last pieces of whatever lay in his cold heart. And he would finally allow himself to cry. To fully realize the atrocities he had seen and been a part of. He still didn’t have any idea who he was. He had played so many parts over the last few years. Mentor, friend, lover, comrade, enemy. And throughout it all, he kept up the charade, always wondering how much longer he had before it slipped from his fingers entirely. He was running out of time. And he was no closer to finding out who he really was. “It may sound absurd, But don’t be naïve. Even heroes have the right to bleed. I may be disturbed, But won’t you concede? Even heroes have the right to dream. And it’s not easy to be me.” Zero didn’t know how long he could keep fighting. He couldn’t run much further. The demons were right on his heels, about to drag him down and finish him, to stop him from his pointless war. He knew it was only a matter of time before it was over. He thought he had grown numb to the battles, to the war, but he found himself growing distasteful of it, getting a sick taste in his mouth at the thought of battles to come. He had tried so hard to portray himself as a warrior, but even he couldn’t last forever. He needed a rest before his weary soul collapsed entirely. The fighting had taken its toll on the blond robot. Despite his best efforts, he knew that his time was almost spent. That thought gave him pause. Should he carry on? Was this really worth the effort? If he stopped running, would he finally have to face his past and the demons inside of himself? Was it impossible for him to ever get the peace he longed for? Or did he only live to fight? In which case, he may just welcome his death. “Up, up, and away... Away from me. Well it’s all right. You can all sleep sound tonight. I’m not crazy. Or anything.” A damaged Irregular attempting to drag itself away caught his eye as he stood on the edge. With a swift shot of his Z-Buster, the Irregular fell silent. He had accomplished his mission. But at what cost? What separated the Hunter from the hunted? When would the distinction blur to the point where it no longer existed? X was still grounded firmly in his pacifism, trying to cling to peace with all of his dear little heart. But Zero knew full well the dangerous line he was treading. He and Sigma had switched places on which side of the dance between Hunters and Irregulars they were both on, after all. Zero had originally been the Irregular, but now he was the one hunting Sigma. How long before there was nothing at all to distinguish between the two anymore? With every battle, it was an inner struggle to keep balanced on the fine line separating them. But there was something deep inside of him that he had struggled to control for years now. And his steel grip on it was weakening. He’d already lost Iris, Colonel, and Teal to the war. What would he do if he lost X? Could he afford to lose his last tie to sanity? “I can’t stand to fly. I’m not that naïve. Men weren’t meant to ride, With clouds between their knees.” Every single day, Zero stepped out to confront the ugly conflict that threatened to tug the population of earth apart. He was always in the middle of the worst possible situations, getting his hands dirty in whatever needed to be solved. But he was only one man. And he was so tired... He’d already seen and done more than anyone ever should have to. It was too much. It was burying him alive and he couldn’t claw his way back to the surface. It was slowly crushing him under the immensity of it all. He knew that he would fall soon enough under that weight. It was simply too much for him to bear. He just wasn’t strong enough. All of his faith was placed in X, that the blue robot would somehow be able to put right what he couldn’t, that he could survive the trip into madness that Zero was starting to fail at. “I’m only a man, In a silly red sheet. Digging for Kryptonite on this one way street.” Holding his Z-Saber tightly, he looked down to the ruined city below. He was designed and built to be a war machine, to kill. Whoever had made him had planned for him to fight. And so that’s what he was doing. Parts could be added, pieces could be fixed. But his creator had forgotten the most important piece of all. His soul was being worn down by the constant brutality, the constant insanity that surrounded his every waking moment. No, he may be a war machine, but that didn’t mean anything about the man inside. He was foolish to be out here trying for a victory that he knew would never come. The vicious cycle would continue on forevermore. There was only so much he could take before the burden became too much. “Only a man, In a funny red sheet. Looking for special things inside of me. Inside of me. Inside of me. Yeah. Inside of me. Inside of me.” What was inside the war machine? What was he besides a killer? He knew X could answer that, but the answers eluded him in the cold night. He knew he was weak and tired. But he couldn’t rest now. There was still so much to be done. Too bad he wouldn’t be around for the end of it. He had won this battle, but it would only be a downward spiral from there. Coming forth victorious from battle didn’t always mean he had made it through unscathed. He may be able to continue winning in his fight with the Irregulars, but his mind couldn’t take much more. The shell was about to crack and get to the soft insides of his soul. Just who was he? Had he really made a difference? Was he more than the war machine that everyone presumed he was? Everyone but X. But even with the smaller robot’s faith in him, he wasn’t quite so sure of himself. He didn’t think he could last much longer. He hoped that X would understand. He couldn’t stay around for him, no matter how much he wanted to. “I’m only a man In a funny red sheet. I’m only a man looking for a dream. I’m only a man In a funny red sheet. And it’s not easy...” It was almost over. He didn’t have a lot of time left. He needed to figure things out for himself. Who he was and what was deep inside of him. His fight was almost over. But before it was, he would have to confront his past. A shiver went through him as his eyes shut tight, trying to keep back the torrent of emotions breaking through his cold exterior. Just a little further. He had to push himself a little further before he could call it quits. He didn’t know if he could last that long. But he knew he had to try. “It’s not easy to be me...” Zero turned from the flames, walking silently into the night. His helmet hung limply from his fingers. Fighting didn’t hold anymore appeal to him tonight. He was sick. All he wanted was to go back ‘home’ and rest. And try desperately to hold himself together. Just a little longer.