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The last thing he remembered before offlining was several tons of concrete and steel collapsing atop his head. He hadn't even had time to find Treble.

He had been on his way down to Wily's lab; the old man had screamed for him to "hurry up and get your worthless body down here" for whatever reason. It seemed like Bass was Wily's agony aunt at times, what with Wily constantly bitching and moaning about his failures or praising himself. Bass never really said much, much less anything complimentary, but that was fine; Wily just wanted an audience. That stupid old bastard.

He'd been shuffling his way through the hallways, shoving Robot Masters as he came across them, when suddenly there was an explosion so loud it scrambled his auditory sensors and sent him staggering into a wall. From there, the lights winked out without so much as a flicker. Immediate power failure.

Bass's night vision had come online just in time for him to look up and see the ceiling rushing toward his face.

And then...it was dark. And he was glitching or something because he couldn't figure out what time it was. He was damaged; he knew that much. He was very damaged. As systems slowly booted up he tried to move, but to no avail. His night vision was offline, but just by wiggling his fingers Bass could tell he was pinned down and entombed. Trapped.

Buried alive.

...Fuck.

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Stupid.

Protoman couldn't even muster up the emotional strength to place the proper conviction behind that one word as he finally alighted down near Wily's base and found only destruction there, broken glass and metal and concrete all around him, with the few walls that remained standing pitiful and blackened. And quiet. It was very quiet. Like he was alone.

(again)

Idiot.

He didn't stare. There wasn't time for it, if anyone was still-

There wasn't enough time.

He focused his gaze on the rubble beneath him first, knelt down, and started digging, jaw clenched tightly and expression blank even while his insides felt more shaken and scattered than they ever had before. He didn't even know where to start looking.

You absolute fool.

Edited 2010-12-26 22:10 (UTC)

There were scraping sounds overhead, but Bass couldn't say anything; he tried to, he did, but something in his programming was- There was something wrong. He couldn't execute the commands to speak. God, he really must have rattled something fierce. There was pressure against the side of his head; his helmet was probably crushed. He needed to reboot.

No, no; he might error message in the process. He needed to get out, find Wily, get fixed. That's what he needed to do. Nobody would know he was down here, and even if they did nobody would dig him out. Plus-

Treble.

He needed to get out and get Treble. Bass desperately pushed against the ground in an effort to shift something, anything, trying to lessen the weight on his back. Something gave and screeched as it dragged across his armor, and Bass felt the pull of metal tearing. Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck. Let that be his armor or a beam, not his legs.

He can't feel anything. Is that because he's all right, or because his nervous system is offline? He's about to do a check but his consciousness is so shaky, so tenuous he doesn't want to risk overloading himself with too much information to process. Focus, focus focus. Get out first.

Bass gritted his teeth and shoved back against the thing(s?) pinning him down and felt something give again. Slow progress is progress.

There was movement.

Protoman stopped cold when he felt something - something, it was only something, don't get your hopes up - shift beneath him.

He couldn't afford to go much faster than he already was, not without risk of upsetting an already tenuous balance, but he still tried. "Don't move," he snapped tightly without really realizing it, scared - almost irrationally so - that the extra help would only cause things to go wrong.

He tried not to think about how he might be talking to nothing but air, a figment of what imagination Light and Wily had programmed him with.

And then he found a shoulder.

The pressure on his back lessened further and further and Bass grinned in triumph. Fuck yes, he was the strongest Goddamn thing ever built. He could even survive an entire castle dropping on his head; take that, Wicked Witch of the West!

Something made a noise above all the scraping and shifting material, but it was muffled and just sounded like a low buzz in his ears. It wasn't until Bass shoved again that he realized there was nothing pinning down his shoulder. Part of him was free; he was almost there, almost there.

Bass began to thrash then, wrenching himself away from the rubble and tearing synthetic skin, cloth and armor from his body. Fluids dripped down over his eyes but he could see and fuck yes, he could get out of this. All the other Robot Masters were probably crushed into little tinfoil sheets by now, but not him. Not Bass. He's the motherfucking best.

With his most violent wrench yet Bass managed to wedge himself half-upright, struggling against the weight still on his back and legs, and he reached up to start clawing at his helmet because somehow his nervous systems had started coming back online and before he snapped them off again he realized that one side of the thing had caved in and was digging into the side of his skull, and it hurt like a bitch.

Edited 2010-12-26 22:37 (UTC)

Protoman moved back a step when the thrashing started and he realized who, exactly, he'd uncovered. Even his relief at seeing Bass alive, however, was drowned out by sharp, sharp irritation that boiled out of his control before he could stop it. Which was strange, but not enough to give him pause with his nerves already as frazzled as they were. He couldn't afford to show any hesitation here.

"Knock it off, Bass," he said, moving back in and attempting to press down hard on the back of Bass's neck in an attempt to keep him still. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but with Bass still half-trapped and injured, Protoman felt safe enough. He barely gave Bass's helmet a second thought. He was pretty sure it wasn't fatal. "You're only hurting yourself further. What good is that going to do?"

The sounds came again and Bass could recognize it as speaking, but it was too fuzzy for him to discern words. He couldn't recognize the voice either, so when a hand clamped on the back of his neck and shoved him down with a vice-like grip, he started and snarled before trying to jerk away.

Later, he'd tell himself it was anger that motivated him. But it had been panic. Fear and panic.

He made a fist and attempted to punch the arm of the one holding him down, hissing and clenching his teeth. He still couldn't access the program to speak, but that didn't matter; whoever was holding him down meant him harm, he was sure of it. The grip was too strong to be human so it was a robot; the hand was small, maybe a little smaller than his own, and Bass shuddered at the thought that came next.

It's the old man's new toy.

No no no no no no-

Bass wrenched away and managed to twist himself far enough to see; something snapped and he was halfway blinded by sunlight, but he saw red. Red- That thing's armor- No-!

He blinked and it cleared; the helmet was round. Sunglasses.

Protoman. He must have been holding him down to keep Bass from hurting himself.

Bass stared for a moment before sinking down, almost obediently. His levels were dangerously low after the burst of activity and he had to wait for his energy to regenerate before he could move again anyway; that was why he rested. The only reason why.

Edited 2010-12-26 23:11 (UTC)

When Bass jerked away, Protoman pulled back and lifted one arm to defend. That reaction hadn't been entirely unexpected, but the way Bass stopped when he finally got a good look at him was.

Protoman frowned, filed that information away, and didn't say anything about it. In fact, he didn't say anything at all once Bass stopped his attempts to attack, just hummed tonelessly and turned back to pulling the rest of the rubble off his brother's body. His shoulders were stiff, but he didn't expect Bass to notice that.

As he went, he lingered over the injuries. So far nothing too severe, thankfully. Mostly cosmetic, some fluid loss. He could work with that.

Bass could both feel and hear the rubble being moved off of him; he didn't think about what laying still and letting Protoman do all the work would look like. What it might mean. He wasn't relying on anyone, he was just letting someone else break their back so he'd have the resources necessary to save Treble.

Because Treble would've gotten out. Treble would be fine. He had to be.

Once all the pressure had lifted Bass rose and shook himself, clawed his way out of the pit Protoman had dug and fell to his knees on the rubble. He struggled against his helmet; there was a sick tearing sound and something flapped against his cheek. His ear, hanging on by about an inch of false skin and cartilage.

At least his helmet was off.

Usually there would be shouting by now, posturing. Something.

There wasn't.

Protoman leaned back when Bass clawed himself free, watching quietly and making no move to interfere or help. He didn't bother to stand until it was obvious Bass wasn't going to do anything more right at that moment, except brace himself on his knees. Then he lifted himself easily and walked over, standing with his arms folded over his chest. He took a moment to think about what he was going to say, what he could say. What he wasn't going to say. Then he looked way and glanced over the ruins. He'd need to get the damage repaired.

"Can you hear me?"

Bass glanced at Protoman when he walked over, but ignored him as he reached up to feel his ear. He made a fist around it and tore it lose, tossing the thing aside. No need for that.

The sounds happened again and this time Bass recognized them, though that might have only been his brain finally making logical connections. He glanced up at Protoman, but only caught the tail end of his sentence by lip-reading; the "me." He can't remember how to speak so he just struggles to his feet and staggers a couple steps away.

...the entire fortress...

Bass sets his jaw and orients himself before moving for where his room would be, then falls back down to his knees to start digging. Treble. Treble.

Treble.

Protoman followed. Obviously, talking wasn't going to work, so he circled around to put himself in what should be Bass's range of vision, even if only on the outskirts of it, and reached to put a hand on his shoulder. Somehow he manages to keep himself sounding careless, though there's nothing he can do about the thread of tension skirting just beneath the surface. All of this-

"I'll look. I need to make sure you aren't going to drop dead."

If Bass doesn't freak out too badly, Protoman will try to urge him back into a sitting position.

Repairs first, then they can look. He doesn't expect Bass to agree to that, but he can try anyway.

Yes, he can try.

Bass slapped Protoman's hand away and bared his teeth, pulling at the rubble with renewed vigor. Like hell. Like hell he's going to stop looking for Treble. He knows he isn't going to drop dead any time soon, but the same couldn't be said for his support unit so there wasn't any time to waste on Protoman's idiocy.

There are two ways Protoman can go about this.

One. He can attempt to force Bass to accept repairs. This is inadvisable for a number of reasons, none of which Protoman wants to get into right now.

Two. He can let Bass look. He doesn't know what or who, exactly, Bass is looking for, but he can take a guess. If he's right (and he usually is) then there's nothing he can do that will keep Bass from searching until he collapses.

(He doesn't mention that Rush didn't survive.)

Protoman's fists clench briefly and he holds himself still, because Bass is an idiot who doesn't know when to quit and Protoman hates to admit it but he isn't up for dealing with all of this right now-

Except it's not like he has much of a choice, does he?

So, instead of snapping like he wants to, getting into a fight just for the sake of it, he stiffly bends over and starts digging, too. His silence is stony and his words only a little less so, but he doesn't expect Bass to care about that.

"Was he near you at the time?"

Bass doesn't object when Protoman starts helping him move chunks of concrete and sections of steel beams aside. In fact, he makes room. His expression is tight and lined, like a real human's would be, and his lips are pressed tightly together. Every so often he reaches up to wipe a trickle of fluids out of his eyes; his gloves are stained with oil.

He isn't looking up when Protoman speaks so he doesn't catch what he's saying. He hears the sounds, they're just not translating into speech so he shakes his head hard and continues to dig.

He digs until they hit the foundation, then stops and stares. No Treble.

He got out. Bass sinks down to sit on a chunk of concrete, glass crunching beneath his boots.

Nothing. Protoman stands up and sighs, glancing around before finally turning to look at his brother. There's an E-Can on his person, he made it a habit to carry them around, and after a moment's consideration he tosses it lightly in Bass's direction. Then he looks away.

He wants to see what Bass is going to do now. That he needs repairs is a no-brainer, possibly a reboot if Protoman's suspicions about his processor being jarred and scrambled in the fall were valid, but whether Bass is going to accept them the easy or hard way remains to be seen.

Edited 2010-12-27 20:33 (UTC)

Bass caught the can purely on reflex and stared down at it for a moment before popping it open to take a swig.

All right. He was going to have to dig up everything there in order to make absolutely certain Treble was safe, but if he did it on his own it would take him an eternity. First and foremost, he needed repairs, which meant he had to find Wily. Wily had been in his lab, but if he'd been in there when it collapsed he was definitely dead. Still, Wily was too slippery to die by some building falling on him. He must have escaped too.

Bass finished the can, crushed it and tossed it over his shoulder before standing. The half-crushed pieces of armor restricted his movement and he struggled to remove them without damaging his body further, tossing the shoulder pads, bracers and breastplate down with ringing clangs.

Protoman...sighed.

Then he walked over and moved to stand directly in Bass's line of sight, hands crossed across his chest out of habit. That twist to his mouth was anything but happy. "Sit down."

Bass ignored Protoman, rotating his shoulders to make sure he had decent movement before randomly picking a direction and striking off. He had no idea where Wily was, and his pings had a limited range. He'd have to keep moving in order to find either Wily or Treble.

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