Title: Mine

Fandom: Megaman X / Megaman Zero

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Omega / X

Rating: R-18 / R-18 G for content. The sex scenes will be pared down and made much less explicit in this version (the completely uncut version will be hosted on my fanfiction tumblr), but there is going to be some pretty heavy violent content and imagery in later chapters, and...well. There's also the fact that Omega kinda likes the whole blood and gore thing. Let's just say you've been warned.

Author's Note: This is a sort of Alternate Timeline fic (not only in terms of Omega ending up in the past and meeting X's past self, but in terms of how Omega's Punishment at the end of the Elf Wars), with various MMZ series spoilers cropping up later on. Also, bits of this were inspired by Kidria's fic, "Through Glass".

Author's Note 2: The first few chapters are meant to have this 'dreamlike' quality, in vignette-esque moments that are tied to the coherent whole as you get to know Omega and how he adjusts to his new 'life' and X. The entire story isn't in this style, I promise!

Summary: Dr. Cain and X found a mysterious pod outside Cain Labs, around a year after X was activated (and long before he joined the Hunters). Upon taking it home with them, X finds himself permanently bound to the Reploid inside...

"I think we should put him here."

"Here? Are you insane? What if that thing doesn't open like yours did?! It'll break everything it touches!"

"...Oh. I didn't think of that. Then I'll put him in my living space. I don't have much in it, so it shouldn't be a problem."

...Those were the first words that he heard. Fuzzed, faint, but still altogether there, as though they were muffled by a door, or a window.

So annoying. Couldn't they shut up, already? The old man with the shaky voice, trembling with age, was bad enough with his whimpering and whining. Really, if that gentle-voiced brat wanted to do something, let him do it, if it'd get both of them to stop talking. He had half the mind to open his eyes and get up from where he was, maybe lash out at their throats-

-If he could move. Why couldn't he move? His eyes stayed shut, his body stiff, immobile.

And yet he could still hear.

Where was he?

...Wait. 'He'?

Yes, 'he'.

He, whoever he was, was a humanoid model of physical and associative male gender.

And he could feel rhythmic shaking, as though he was encapsulated inside something. Something that was moving.

If only he could move. He would have burst out of this...this prison, opened his eyes, gazed upon the trembling bodies of his captors, sank his teeth into their flesh, drank their blood and wrapped himself in their agonized screams. Those were the sorts of sounds he wanted to hear. Not this...this...

Chatter. Yes, that was a good word for it.

Besides, he didn't have time to be doing this. He had to-

-what? What did he even have to do? Why couldn't he remember anything?

"It'll be all right, trust me."

The warm voice was almost laughing as he felt the hard thump of his...whatever it was being set down. If he cared, he would have at least been thankful that from the the feel of it, his carrier had at least tried to be gentle with setting him down.

If only he could see.

"If you say so. If he wakes up, let me know."

"I will. Maybe when he does, he can help us get him out."

"Wouldn't that be the day! Whatever this pod is-"

If he knocked on the side like that one more time, he was going to take special slowness in killing him once he got out.

"-I've never seen anything like it."

"Maybe it's on a time-lock, like you said I was."

"But when I found you, I still had to open you manually!"

"It's possible that whoever built him just did things differently..."

They needed to stop talking. Now.

"Anyway, this was just a bit too much excitement for one day. I'm going to go to bed."

"Do you want me to make you tea, Dr. Cain?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary. Don't look at me like that! I'm mobile enough to get my own tea; I'm old, but I'm not going to be an invalid for a long time yet! Hahaha!"

"Haha...if you say so. Good night, then."

"Good night."

Good. They shut up. There wasn't going to be anymore senseless talking. Maybe if things were quiet, he could think. Think about his situation, and maybe about getting out of here-

"...Hey. Can you hear me in there?"

NOW WHAT?! What held such importance that he felt the need to address him directly?! If he knew what was good for him, he would have backed away, left him alone, and perhaps found a way to get him out of this-

"My name is X. It looks like we're going to be roommates for a while."


The name sparked an internal snarl, though for what reason, he was unsure. Varied, conflicting emotions rose to the surface, but little else; his rage bubbled, and if he could, he would have wriggled and flailed against his bonds. He would have burst out of his prison, and-

"You weren't too bothered by us carrying you around and prodding your pod, were you, Omega?"

For a moment, his anger cooled.

Omega? Like the name 'X', it sounded familiar. Clicked somehow. He didn't know if that was his name, but he'd take it. Not that a name really mattered, but it was better than referring to himself without one, he supposed.

"I don't know if that's your name or not, but that's what it said on the outside of your capsule. In any case...I'm sure you'll tell us when you're ready to come out."

Ready?! He was ready now. What he would do for a chance to get out of this, to go out, to do something other than sit and listen and be passive to some fool who was talking to someone who wasn't even responding, as though Omega was his imaginary friend. Couldn't he tell that he couldn't talk back?

Was he delusional? Or just an idiot?

"Well...I'm going to bed. Good night, Omega. Sweet dreams."

Yes. Sweet dreams.

Sweet dreams of making that voice choke with blood and cry in everlasting pain.

Yes, those would be very sweet dreams, indeed.

"I don't know how humans can manage to keep themselves focused when they have so many inventions made just to distract them. Like television, or the internet."

The first time X had tried having a real conversation with Omega, it was days later. Not that Omega could respond, but that didn't seem to stop him from moving up from the "Good morning, Omega"s that he chirped every morning to plopping down in front of his prison (if the dim flopping sound was in fact what he thought it was) and yammering on.

Did he ever run out of things to talk about?

"And yet humans can make such amazing things! Once you wake up, I should show you some of the things I'd found. I don't know if you'd be interested, though."

No. He probably wouldn't be. Why would he be? It wasn't like humans were very interesting. Humans lived for 50 years, keeled over, and that was the end of it. And their flesh was far too easy to rend; not exactly fun playthings, if anyone asked him...

They were like squealy, flesh-covered pieces of popcorn that spewed blood when you squeezed them too hard.

"I wonder if your creator did anything with you before he sealed you away? If he showed you the world before you were put in this thing?"

He didn't know. And frankly, Omega didn't care. Didn't X have something better to do? Unless he wanted to let him out and let Omega relish in feeling his sparking innards against his palms, there was no reason for him to even be here.

"And...I wonder if this was what I looked like, before Dr. Cain found me."

...Oh, right. X had mentioned that he was like this, too, when they had first met. Not that Omega had been paying much attention at the time, or was paying too much attention now. If X's experience didn't have anything to do with getting him out, then what business was it of his?

That's right. It wasn't.

He was just talking to hear himself talk.

X let out a sigh, and there was dull thump as something touched the front of his prison.

"E-either way, don't worry. We'll get you out, soon."

Omega sincerely hoped so. So he could silence him permanently.

As the weeks went by, Omega noticed that things fell into a routine.

Early in the day, everything started with the loud crash of music: energetic guitars and strong but melodic voices, singing about something-or-other that Omega hardly cared about in the lyrics. All he knew was that it was loud, it was ear-catching (it most certainly wasn't unpleasant; not like some of the other garbage X found himself listening to), and whatever sense of sleep-mode Omega had was tossed aside with a start, sometimes with so much processor whiplash that his head would ache.

Then X said his "good mornings", before either shuffling out, or talking to him for a short time before finally leaving him alone for several hours. Omega thought they were hours, anyway; he often slipped in and out of sleep mode during this time, so time was of no consequence.

Either way, it was long stretches of silence followed by periods of excited chatter, as X recounted every small detail of his day to him. This ranged from how he found a pregnant cat and was helping a little girl take care of her until her kittens were born, to how he tried this-or-that human food and it was so good (or so awful, in the case of his much loathed fish. It was amusing hearing him sound like he was choking; it was as though he was receiving great physical pain just remembering it). After such an enthusiastic report, X 'went to bed', leaving Omega alone until everything repeated the next day.

That is, until X started changing things up on him, adding a little detail to that rhythm of his.

"He did not sleep all night long for thinking of his Lady Dulcinea;" X said, "For this was in accordance with what he had read in his books, of men of arms in the forest or desert places who kept a wakeful vigil, sustained by the memory of their ladies fair. Not so with Sancho..."

Omega didn't know why X had decided to do it, nor could he have questioned it if he wanted to. Just one day X sat down in front of his prison, talked to him about some book he'd read, and then read particular passages out loud. They were never long, mind, nor particularly painful...

It was more the question as of why. Did X not attain enough amusement from treating him like some sort of beloved family pet? Did he have to read to him, too?

He leaned back in his consciousness and let the words bounce off of him. Maybe if he ignored his reading with its rhythmic tones and easy pace, Omega could slip back into that abyss of nothing and phase out until the next day.


"...I think...I'll stop for today."

Wait, he was stopping?

"Sorry, I guess I just got really excited about this one; I'll read you something better next time."

Odd choice of words...

Did X know he was getting bored? No, that was ridiculous. Omega couldn't see, much less speak. X may have cared too much about everyone, but he wasn't a hacker. Annoying, yes. Dangerous, no.

Either way, it was strange.

With the slam of paper against paper (a 'paperback', his memory banks told him. Though the visual concept of that eluded him), Omega heard X move, a shuffle against carpet.

"I'll be getting some sleep now, I think. Sleep well, Omega."

...What just happened?!

"Hold it right there, evildoer!"


...Omega wasn't sure which was worse: The strange, shrill voices that fluttered into his ears, or the ridiculous things that they were forced to say. At first, he had thought such antics took place inside the laboratory proper, and some spare side-effect of the mayhem could unleash him from his prison and end the miserable torture of being stuck in this static existence.

But no, that was not to be.

After around ten minutes of this phenomenon, he realized that, no, this wasn't happening within the confines of the building. The explosions and clashing sounds were too synthetic to be accurate, to false to be real, and the voices too...charlatan-esque to be taken seriously.

This wasn't a battle.

"The power of young children's dreams burst from them as they compete against each other in this sacred shrine of education and competition! I will not allow you to destroy all these kids have worked on for this Sports' Day with your wicked ways!"

It was entertainment.

One of X's ideal forms of it, in fact, for reasons Omega could not remotely comprehend. Nor did he want to. Perhaps gaining an understanding of such things would infect you with a virus bred of whimsical childish fancy.

"I am the flower that blooms in the night! The gentle wind that brings down the Flame of Justice from Heaven on her Cycle of Truth! I am PRINCESS RIDER!"

"You are, are you?! You won't be able to defeat me, little girl!"

"Good luck, Princess Rider!"

Through what form of apparatus was X...observing? Listening to? Indulging in this...awkward farce that could loosely be called entertainment? How could X bring himself to listen to each of these insipid lines, cheering on this 'heroine of justice' with the childish glee of a human playing pretend on a playground?

Battles weren't like this. They weren't about speeches, long-winded exposition, and silly-sounding attacks; it was about blood, the sound of your opponent choking on their life fluids as they stared up at you with deadened eyes, the blade going further and further into their flesh...

"N-No! What can...I can't...go on!"

"Oh no...Come on, Hiroshi, hurry up! Princess Rider's in danger!"

Oh, good. This...character was in danger. Maybe she'd end up dead, so Omega could stop listening to this garbage.

"You're MINE!"



"It's Prince Hiro! Good timing!"

...Or not.

But it made sense, though; from even what little he cared to listen to, this was clearly aimed at those with a child's disposition and view of the world. Everything was solved neatly, evil was defeated by good, and everything was so stark in their alignment that if Omega was in fact able to see what these people looked like, he likely would have been able to tell on sight.

"Prince Hiro, you came!"

"Come on, Princess Rider, don't give up! Think about the children! The parents! The other people of this city!"

"...You're right, they're all depending on me! Thank you, Prince Hiro! Together, let's show this monster the real meaning of hard work and friendship!"

And X?

He was about as childlike as they came. Between his gestures of friendship, his sense of justice, and that naivete that would one day get him into trouble.

Wait, would it? How did he even know that?

And barring that, why did he even care?

No matter. X was irritating, there was no question of that. Another undeniable truth was that this...thing he indulged in was one of the worst things in the history of things.

And Omega was certain this view of him would never change.