Title: "Infecten – stage 5 – Maturation 5/?"

Author: Nemesi.

Fandom: (MMBN)

Genre: Romance. Humour.

Word Count: 2830.

Characters/Pairings: Blues/Rockman; Netto, Enzan, Axl mainly. Others mentioned.

Rating: PG-13.

Disclaimer: , its characters, places and themes belong to Capcom, Shogakukan, ShoPro, TV Tokio, etc.. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warnings: Shounen-ai. Un-betaed. Navi-preg (and I claim ownership on this idea). OC.

A/N: In this stage, the disease fully develops into a chronic condition.

Summary: In which Roll is found, and Rock is not.

They found Roll inside IPC's main computer, unconscious but otherwise unharmed. Virus-scans confirmed that her data banks had been searched, but not tampered with.

She woke up to Rush's prodding, and with Glyde's palm on her forehead. She struggled to rise, feeling disoriented and a little nauseated, and was grateful when Gutsman let her lean on him for support. Blearily, she looked around herself, wanting to retch or wake up from this nightmare, and knowing she could do neither.

"…Netto-kun?" she called for, feebly.

The boy's face came into focus above her. Enzan's own face hovered next to his, flushed were Netto's was ashen, drawn and angry were Netto's own was slack with shock. The two didn't have a clear idea of what had happened; but Rock, Blues and Axl had vanished, their PETs flashed errors of all kinds, and chancing upon a semi-comatose Roll only confirmed their worst assumptions.

Roll took a look at their faces, and knew. Knew the others hadn't been found, knew Axl hadn't made it back home. She knew it. She knew.

She clung to her friends, struggling for breath, and gasped out, half-sobbing and half-whispering:

"Rock-kun…" and then: "Blues-kun… Axl…" She drew a sharper breath in, called "Axl…" once more, very softly. And broke down into sobs.

Coaxing a coherent story out of the distraught she-Navi wasn't the easiest thing in the world; but Roll was way tougher that her delicate looks might suggest, and determined to find her friends. In the span of an hour or so, and aided by Enzan's superior knowledge of electronics, all data she possessed about the ambush had been recovered, and the visual could be played on Enzan's laptop.

The way the creatures had targeted Axl from the beginning was suspicious, to say the least. The fact that they carried away the whole family, yet left Roll behind and untouched, hinted that she wasn't part of whatever mission they'd been imparted (it also implied that their brain-functions were somewhat limited too. What kind of kidnapper leaves a witness behind? A kidnapper with a limited processing power, that's the kind).

From there, figuring what had happened and why wasn't much hard.

"Information on Navi pregnancy must have leaked," Enzan said, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up. The ambush had taken place a measly three hours before, but it honestly felt like forever, he was so exhausted.

"Someone heard about Axl and his parents, and decided to get them." Netto inputted, dealing a resounding punch to his own palm. Enzan glanced at him – probably assessing if he ought to be worried or intervene – then back at his laptop.

"Judging by this log, the PC in the main hall as been tampered with, and I assure you, that's no easy feat," he clicked a few links, eyes narrowing in thought. "Same goes with the elevator."

Netto uttered a wail, then slumped dramatically in a chair opposite Enzan's.

"A virus breakthrough?"

"Not really, no. And the system hasn't been hacked either. Not quite. It's as though those things were there to start with, but didn't materialize until it was time…"

"Blues said they weren't logging in, but springing from a sort of hidden flow," Roll said softly.

She sat in a corner of the monitor, wedged firmly between Glyde and Gutsman, and with Rush draped across her lap like a blanket. She felt chilly like never before, and nothing seemed to restore her right temperature. Even now, her breath tended to condensate out of her mouth every few sentences or so.

Enzan stilled, then nodded his head once, twice, considering.

"Yes," he said slowly. "That might be it." And he began to type away, as though to confirm his theory.

"That might be what?" Netto stretched across the desk to peer at the laptop. He found nothing new on the monitor, and even Roll seemed not to know what Enzan was talking about. "Enlighten us."

"Frequency," Enzan began, cupping his chin. Netto shook his head.

"Enzan, you're making no sense."

"Do you ever listen to music, when you're on a car?"

"…what?"

"Answer me."

Netto sank back into his chair, looking confused, but trusting Enzan to see him through.

"Sometimes, yeah."

"And usually, just as your favourite song comes up, some other transmission takes over and obliterates it."

"YEAH! That's so totally annoying, I mean…" Beat. "No way."

Enzan gave him a smile. A atta-boy!-I-knew-you'd-get-the-trick kind of smile.

"It's a matter of frequency. The two radios waves – the one you're listening to, and the one intruding – exist at the same time. They oscillate at different frequencies though, which is why you can hear either one or the other, depending on how you've tuned the receiver, but never both. Unless they overlap by chance. "

"And radio waves," Netto supplied, "are electrical impulses, like Navis."

"And like Navis, they can travel the Net, and get into a computer."

"So you're saying that those slimy things were being broadcasted at a frequency just slightly different that the one normally used on the Net, and by some freak accident got into IPC?"

Enzan shook his head.

"No. I'm saying that those creatures were being broadcasted at a frequency meant to break into IPC. It was a trap."

And what a trap. Brilliant in its stunning simplicity: stranded on a different frequency, with no chip to boost their combat abilities, unable to log out or communicate with either the Net or the real world, and with two people to protect, Blues and Rockman had been as good as helpless. Abducting them and Axl had been child's play.

"Damn."

"My thoughts exactly."

Netto racked a hand through his hair, nearly dislodging his bandanna in his worry.

"Who could do something like that?"

Enzan shrugged.

"Honestly? Someone inside IPC."

Roll gasped. Netto froze, gaping.

"…you're joking!"

Enzan's eyes went cold and narrow and gleaming, like shards of glass.

"I wish I were."

There followed a moment of silence, then Netto got on his feet with a tired sigh – the sigh of a weary old man, someone who's seen war and tested the cruelty of his kin on his own flash, and most certainly not the sigh of a teenage boy – and skunked around the desk. He snatched a second laptop, made himself comfortable at Enzan's feet, and flicked it on.

"I check the new employees, you check those who've been fired since Axl was born and might hold a grudge?"

Enzan gave him an appraising, almost-grateful look, long but soft.

"Deal."

One hour later, Enzan had come to sit by Netto with his own laptop. Two hours, and they were stretched side by side. Three hours, and they were sharing the same laptop, confronting what data they'd gathered. Roll sat on a corner of the monitor, offering counsel, while Glyde, Rush and Gutsman logged in and out of the net, making cross-searches. Three hours and one minute, and the door of Enzan's office was… not exactly kicked, but most certainly shoved none-too-gently open.

Enzan had barely the time to look up and get a wide-eyed look on his face, that a massive hand swept down, caught him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him to his feet like a rag doll. The hand was attached to bulging arm, this in turn attached to the body of one of Shuuseki's personal guards, a sort of burly giant with a shiny bald head, black shades and a earphone on the left side of his head.

Enzan was limp in the ogre's hand, not scared but rather non-amused, as though the situation was familiar and not-at-all out of the ordinary.

"Let me guess. Father needs me."

Instead than answering, the giant swivelled on his heels, and dragged the boy out of the room.

He'd obviously failed to take something into account: namely, one utterly enraged Hikari Netto, who roller-bladed after them with a shout, and pounced on the man's back. Sadly, Netto had made some miscalculations himself, because – no matter how hard he yanked, tugged, flailed, kicked and bit – the only thing he managed was to be dragged to Shuuseki's office, and flung inside like a sack of potatoes alongside Enzan.

Enzan helped him up with surprising calmness, then rounded on his father (whom he only saw at official business parties thrice at year, if at all) with a scowl.

"You called?"

Shuuseki linked his fingers together, surveying his son and that… peasant playmate of his with a cold look in his eyes.

"The stakes are out," he hissed, in a tone of voice that confused Enzan. "Hand over what information you secretly slipped to those Sci-Lab's rats, and I might let you go unpunished this once."

…I so not need to tell you the racket Enzan and Netto made, combined, as soon as those words were uttered.

"Let me go unpunished?"

"And just who're you calling rats?"

"Who do you think-"

"What gave you-"

"How dare-"

"The Hell…!"

And so on.

There followed a raw, loud and bitter, in which the boys kept finishing each other's sentences like telepaths and Mr. Ijuin kept making subtle threats first at one, then at them both. At one point, Netto blurted out that damn it, the Navis were gone, they needed to save them, so why didn't he shut up and let them go already?

Shuuseki froze, then turned very calmly towards Enzan. A look of admiration flickered across his face when he accused his son of staging the abduction to keep the miracle of Navi impregnation (and the profit it'd earn) solely for himself.

Furious with the accusation, disheartened by the loss of Blues and Axl, worried and weary, Enzan turned the accusation over to his father, grabbed Netto by the elbow, and stomped away.

Only when they were out in the hall did Enzan realize that his unwittingly voiced accusation might have been the truth: his own father might have ordered the abduction of Enzan's closet friend and his son, for no other reason than money.

Enzan sagged back against a wall, suddenly unable to support himself.

"Damn."

"My thoughts exactly,"Netto offered, gingerly putting a hand on Enzan's shoulder. "You okay?"

A mere three months before, had Netto voiced that question in such a situation, he'd have received a glare, an hissed insult and maybe a punch, not necessarily in this order. But many things had happened lately, and though Enzan did manage a glare, it distinctly lacked in the venom department.

"What do you think?"

"That you aren't. That's why I asked."

Enzan sighed.

"You'd be right then."

Netto helped Enzan away from the wall, and efficiently steered him down the corridor.

"That'd be a first."

"What, you being right?" Enzan inquired drily.

"You admitting that I am," Netto shot back. "Where to now? Your office? Home?"

Enzan visibly flinched.

"Mine or yours?" he inquired carefully.

"Mine," Netto answered, matter-of-factly.

Enzan nodded, looking relieved.

"Let's go."

And now, trusting that the boys will be fine on their own for a little while, we'll move onto what you really want to know.

Namely, we switch into a cell of sorts, digital by the look of it, and proceed with the story, hoping for some fluff, but not really knowing what will get our way.

I can tell you that in that cell, kneeling by the wall, we find Blues checking every crevice and orifice for the HTML tag that controlled the door. Behind him, huddled on a pallet with his knees up was Rockman.

The Blue Bomber wore a look of intense worry etched on his face, his cheeks pale, mouth pink and swollen and totally kissable for having nibbled at it no-stop in his worried state.

"Blues…" he called softly, with an edge in his voice that wasn't quite panic, but came close enough. Blues titled his head towards him in a questioning gesture, and Rockman lowered his head. "Do you think…" he swallowed, then looked up, eyes red and gleaming wet. "Is Axl…?"

Blues turned back around, but not before Rockman could catch a glimpse of his face hardening and steeling itself.

"He's all right," with a mixture of briskness and warmth that was purely Blues. Rockman sighed, feeling reassured, and wrapped his arms tighter around his knees. There was a small infatuated smile on his face, embarrassed and adoring at once.

"Thanks."

Blues grunted out an answer, and kept searching. A few moments of this, then Rockman grew restless. He squirmed about, chewing on his bottom lip and shifting his eyes this way and that.

"…Blues?"

"What?"

The briskness of Blues's voice made Rockman flinch.

"I'm… I'm cold," he stuttered.

Blues heaved a sigh.

"It's an after effect of that slime. It froze your systems to roam them more freely. Move around a bit, and it'll pass."

"Oh."

Pouting. It was clear that he wanted more, but didn't dare ask. Instead he kept darting quick, inconspicuous glances at Blues from under his lashes, fidgeting like a girl left alone with her teacher-crush after class hours.

A while of this, then Blues made a frustrated sound. Going to his feet, he turned towards the pallet. Rockman looked at him like a puppy would look at his long-awaited, trice-beloved, very-much missed, food-carrying master, then crumpled on himself when Blues turned away, knelt before the other wall and began to search along it, all but ignoring Rockman.

Sighing, Rockman threw the blanket around himself, and curled into a pouting little ball of data.

"Stop that," he whined, with a twinge in his voice we might be inclined to define as morose. "We can't get out of here, and you know it."

Blues paused briefly in his ministration, then shrugged.

"What I know is that there is a catch, somewhere."

Rockman perked up immediately from the tangle of blankets.

"You do?" curiously, head tilted to a side as was his wont. "What do you mean?"

"I just know. Leave it at that."

Rockman recoiled again, hurt, and went back to his ball impersonation. Blues glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then faced forward once more.

"…forgive me."

There followed a few moments of silence, then Blues felt a warm weight mould itself against his back. Rockman brought the blanket around them both, and folded slim but strong arms around Blues's waist. Dropping his head against Blues's shoulder, he released a sigh, half tearful, half relieved.

Blues stopped looking for a way out for a second, then resumed anew, taking no notice of the Navi plastered to his back.

Rockman fought off tears, and his voice was thick with sorrow when he whispered:

"Don't ignore me, Blues. Please. Not when I need you…"

Blues reacted as though he'd been physically struck, and curled in himself, head lowered, fists clenched, pain spreading through him like poison.

"…I'd- I'd never abandon you, Rockman." He said softly. "I can never say this to your face, but you're everything to me. I will never let anything come between us."

Rockman nuzzled his face against Blues's shoulder, his long eyelashes dewed with tears.

"It's just… sometimes it feels like you don't want me. Like you don't even like me, and it hurts. Because I love you so much, Blues, and you don't."

Blues steeled himself. Reaching up, he began his search anew.

"I told you. It's not that. But I can never bare my heart completely. Not to anyone, and not to you. Call it fear, or pride, or a glitch, if you must. All I know is that the more I love you, the harder it gets for me to tell you."

Rockman smiled gently.

"You silly Navi." He chided softly. Reaching out, he traced his finger along the line of Blues's jaw, awestruck at the beauty before him. He leaned forward to place a kiss on Blues's cheek, his own tears warm and salty against his lips. "You just did."

"On the contrary," Blues answered, snapping a code. The cell door immediately swung open, evaporating into pixels.

Blues went to his feet, and turned towards his kneeling companion. Rockman was looking up at him, face pink and trusting, lips curved in a smile, eyes glittering and warm and beautiful. The blanket was draped across him, drooping from his shoulder as though it was too big for him, enhancing the illusion of childish innocence he projected.

It was like that, that he was deleted.

Blues deactivated his sword with a shudder, and had to lean against the wall for a moment or two.

"On the contrary," he told the dark slime gushing at his feet, which was all that remained of the fake Navi. "It's because you were not Rockman, that I was able to tell you out loud how I feel for him."

Turning, he ran.

But he doubted he could ever escape that last, lingering image, that loving acceptance glowing on Rockman's — that fake Rockman's face as Blues deleted him.

- Scene 5 cleared.

NOW LOADING…