I'm A Bubbleman

"You should go inside," that was the first and last thing that anyone had said to Bubbleman all day, and it wasn't out of any real concern for his well being.  Not that he could catch a cold or pneumonia out in the chilly dampness of the fall evening--  no that wasn't the reason that Metalman had bothered to speak four words to his younger brother. The real reason was because Metsa was with a date and wanted to cuddle with her out in the archway.  In other words, he wanted Bubs to be gone.  The slightly corpulent and very awkward bot knew better than to disobey, especially since one well aimed Metal Blade could make him very sorry for doing it, and so he had waddled along, tripping over his own flipper- feet after only five steps away.  The result was that he had been laughed at and humiliated again.  He was used to it, being laughed at, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

No one loved him--  he wasn't fast and deadly like Quickman, he didn't have a razor sharp weapon and extreme agility like Metalman, he couldn't bomb things like Crashman or shoot deadly tornadoes like Airman, he couldn't burn like Heatman, or summon a leaf shield to protect himself from Metsa's wrath like Woodman.  Flashman was thought of as being rather useless as well, but at least he could stop time.  The only good in Bubbleman, or he felt, was that his weapon had spelled the end for Wily's alien hologram.  But that was no use to Wily or the other Robot Masters.  He himself was a terrible fighter who could barely walk and who failed at swimming.  He was the bot who cried himself to sleep at night after asking himself, "Why am I alive?"

In front of the others, he could make himself appear, well, bubbly.  They thought that nothing could get him down-- even their ruthless teasing.  Yet, it did.  In the quiet of his room, he would remember the things that they had all said, and he would soak his pillow with tears, just as he was headed off to do now as soon as he got up from the ground.  From where he lay, he could feel Metalman's blood red eyes burning into his back, saying "Go on!  Get!  I don't want you around right now or ever!"  The first of Wily's solo line of Robot Masters was never shy about saying such words, either.  His opinion of Bubbleman was very low, while the others ranged from apathy to sympathy.  No one really understood.

As the black sheep of the second generation stood, he felt a stinging in his knees, which told him that they were scraped somehow.  This was an amazing feat, considering the fact that they were covered with metal knee guards.  Only he could manage to get hurt in such a lame way.  Bubbleman wouldn't even bother to treat the wounds, though.  Instead, he would change from his armor to his pajamas and climb right into bed as soon as he arrived, having looked at the ground the entire walk to his room.

"Why am I alive?" he asked himself as he pulled the blankets up to his chin.  

A single tear rolled from his left eye and down the side of his face, with the right eye following the example of its twin.  He cried without sound, knowing that even if someone could hear him, they would not comfort him.  Flashman did feel sorry for him, but he had grown tired of giving Bubbleman the same advice, which was to stand up to Metalman.  The failed scuba diver of the Robot Masters would never take it, knowing full well that he would be throttled, with or without any weapons being involved.  Flash found it easy to stand up because he was not afraid to have a fist fight with their brother.  For that reason, the two had a grudging respect for each other.  When it came to Bubs, however…well, all Metalman had to do was glare and the fight was over.

Rolling to his side, the lonely soul looked to his bedroom window and watched the way that drops of rain rolled down the glass on the outside.  In all, there were fourteen bots living in Skull Fortress, but not one of them could be called a friend.  Woodman was just as terrified of Metalman as his brother, but the difference was that he groveled majorly.  If Metsa wanted tea, Woodman would be the first to volunteer to make it.  If Metalman said for Woodman to jump off of a cliff, Woodman would ask which one.  Being an outsider looking in, Bubbleman could see that their tyrant of a brother had no real respect for the "yes man".  Poor Woody was more like a puppy that Metsa would either cuddle or kick, depending on which action more suited his mood.  That wasn't what Bubbleman wanted at all.  He did want a friend, but at least he could recognize that what Woodman had was not true friendship at all.

"But at least they know that Woodman exists," Bubbleman sighed within his heart, not taking his eyes away from the window.  

Quickman was always so busy leading away missions or spending time with Crashman.  Airman didn't talk unless it was to Metalman, and Heatman just downright didn't like Bubbleman, most likely because the diver happened to carry the weapon that was the walking lighter's weakness.  Heato's favorite game was to try getting Metalman agitated with Bubbleman, and the sad thing was, it often worked, especially when it came to things like slacking off on chores.  Yesterday had been a good example.

After his defeat, Dr. Wily claimed to have seen the error of his ways and even requested to work with his former colleague, Dr. Light, again.  As a show of his sincerity, the master of Skull Fortress had even invited Megaman, Roll, and their creator to visit and to discuss plans of a new project.  This meant, naturally, that the place had to be cleaned from top to bottom.  Elecman was the main overseer of this group effort and had trusted Metalman as a sort of second in command, knowing that the often very business-like Robot Master would be sure that things got done on time and right.  Metsa had given Bubbleman and Heatman what he called a simple task-wash and dry all of the windows.  Bubbleman had taken it as a chance to impress Metalman, and had worked extra hard, hoping to show that he could do something right.  Heatman, on the other hand, had grumbled the entire way, and had taken several breaks.  That had been hard enough to deal with, but the icing on the cake had been when the job was done.

"I did ALL of the work while fat old Bubsy Lard took a nap," Heatman had blatantly lied.

Both brothers knew well that if there was one thing that Metalman hated, it was someone who slacked instead of getting the job done.  The yelling went on for a good ten minutes, during which time, poor Bubbleman was called lazy, fat, useless, pathetic, and many more hurtful things.

"You can't do anything right, can you?" Metalman had raged.  "Why did Wily even…"

"That's enough, Metsa, huh?"  Quickman had stepped in.  

Poor Bubbleman had been so relieved and grateful to his brother for saving him from the wrath.  Metalman had stormed off to check on Crash and Flash, who had been assigned to clean the bathrooms, and Heatman had followed, snickering all the way.  But this didn't matter for the moment.  Bubsy turned to Quickman, ready to express his thanks, only to receive a headshake and a tongue click.

"I got him calmed down this time, but you should really know better."

Looking up at his brother, Bubs had to fight back the tears, "But Speedy, I…"

"No time to stop and listen to excuses now," Quick had interrupted, holding up a hand.  "Next time, just do your job and there won't be trouble."

Remembering how his brother had left him alone in the hall with his shame, Bubbleman cried even more.  Maybe he was lazy, fat, useless, and pathetic.  It was true that he couldn't do anything right as well.  He should have stood up for himself against Heatman's lies, but instead, he had took the yelling because he was just that…

"Useless," he sighed to himself and then began to sob bitterly into his pillow.  "Useless, useless, useless, useless!"

And soon to become replaced and forgotten-- soon, they would have new brothers.  One of the names Bubbleman had heard thrown out before he had accidentally tripped and dropped a tray of snacks onto Dr. Light was "Needleman."  Apparently the two scientists were going to work on that Robot Master together and use him for mining something or another.  Bubbleman hadn't heard much more before, though he had heard plenty afterword, mostly during a lecture about being useless again.  It didn't matter, anyway.  All of the Robot Masters knew how this plan was going to go.  Wily would steal at least eight robots to pit against Megaman.  The only question was how.

Yawning, Bubbleman rolled onto his back again and looked up at the ceiling as his eyes started to drift closed.  That was one good thing about the crying-it did make him tired, insuring that his nights weren't entirely sleepless.  At least when he was tucked under his warm blanket and dreaming, he could forget that there was only one person in the real world who didn't laugh at him.  This person was Megaman.  Perhaps they could be friends if Dr. Wily would allow it.  As he started to drift off, Bubbleman wondered if this could be possible.  Dr. Wily was going to be working with Dr. Light for a while now.  What could it hurt to let Bubsy pal around with Mega until the latest take over the world project kicked into high gear?  It might even help to further convince Dr. Light that Wily was truly interested in a peaceful existence.  

Tomorrow, he decided.  Tonight was for sleeping and dreaming, but in the morning, he would think of how to approach the situation with Dr. Wily.  He would need a good argument for this one, since it would entail befriending an enemy, after all.  His master would be right to question the motives behind such a move, which would mean that Bubbleman would have to explain that he was lonely and just wanted a friend.  In his own mind, this seemed absolutely pathetic, and so he could imagine how Wily would view his bot preferring the company of someone who had destroyed him over the other thirteen in the fortress.  It would be a difficult conversation, but Bubbleman had already decided he would do it.  Any amount of laughter or ridicule was worth it if it meant that he would end up with a friend.

"Tomorrow," he smiled to himself before falling asleep, his face now dry of tears.  "Tomorrow."