jadedjada

Title: His Heart is Steel, Part 14
Summary: We look into the universe from which everyone’s favorite mechanical monster first originated. A meeting is placed and a plan is set, as we begin the series of events and inner turmoils that cause the once lovable Pollo to become the evil, vengeful villain known as Mechakara.
Characters: Linkara, Insano, Pollo.
Warnings: Angst, I guess. But a lot of it. Yeah...
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all characters belong to their rightful owners.

Shit. Goes. Down. Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, and part 13. Enjoy!

Pollo was feeling all kinds of excitement run through him as he hesitated his way down the stairs. While all the humans had found themselves other things to do to waste their time, he'd simply been sitting in his room and waiting. Waiting through all the gossiping and lollygagging, waiting while they had their fill of food. That was all he had to do, ever since he spoke to Linkara after the meeting, was wait.

But now the waiting was over. Now he could hear them all leaving the living room, heading downstairs to do whatever it was their pitiful human minds enjoyed. Linkara would be waiting for him, he knew that much. This was it. The big moment. The moment that would determine where he stood, and what actions he was able to take.

What was he going to say to him?

Such was the source of his hesitation, as he made his way down to the living room. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he made it sound worse than it really was? He needed to be very precise about this. He couldn't afford to lose this one chance to make things right. It made him nervous to imagine how Linkara might react. It was all he could do not to cling to the absolute worst case scenario. He had to be optimistic, whatever energy that took from him. He had to keep his focus away from the thoughts that might break him.

So instead, he thought about what he was going to say.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, however, his attention became occupied by something altogether different, something he did not in the slightest expect. He could hear voices. Loud voices, coming from the living room. One of them belonged to Linkara, who sounded angry, angrier than Pollo had heard in a long time. The other belonged to someone else, and Pollo wasn't even in any sort of mindset to guess who, because his mind was too distracted by hurt and confusion.

Linkara said he'd be alone here. He said this would be a time for just them to talk.

So why in the world was he arguing with somebody?

As he moved down the hallway, careful not to make the slightest bit of sound, the voices soon became all too discernible, and Pollos' question was at once answered.

“-BECAUSE IT'S NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS WHAT I DO, THAT'S WHY!”

“Is that a fact, Linkara? Is that a cold hard fucking fact??” It was Insano. Of course it was Insano. Who else could it possibly have been? “You really think just because you're the captain of this here sinking ship, that I don't have any right to care about what might affect my friends? That's right! Mine! Because I care about them too, donchaknow!”

“Oh, come off it, you tech-talking lunatic! I've had it up to here with all your bullcrap talk of selfless heroics! You know what you look like from where I'm standing?”

“No, I don't, and frankly I don't give a crap about where you're standing! Because where you're standing is in the position of a crazy person!”

“You really just don't know when to let things go, do you?”

“I've been nice to back off up to this point, for Criminys' sake! You heard me, I've been nice! That's why I haven't said anything, not because you've been at all right in a single thing you've said, but out of the goodness of my own “lunatic” heart!”

“You're full of it, Insano. You know that? Com-pletely full of it.”

This was com-pletely ridiculous. This was what Linkara felt he could waste Pollos' time with? Their argument was petty, whatever it was. It had to be. An argument between those two always was. Yet they did seem significantly more riled up than usual about it...perhaps they'd been drinking.

Pollo considered this, and in fact was just toying with the possibility of confronting them and stopping the whole mess, when Insano said something that, once again, caught him dead off guard.

“You and I both know the truth about what happened, Linkara! We both know you let the Critic die!”

...What?

“There was nothing I could do for him, and that's that.”

“Bullshit!”

“Do you think I wanted him to get hit? Do you think I was happy about it??”

“I think you thought it an acceptable enough sacrifice in the name of keeping your precious secret. And that, sir, is something you're never going to excuse!”

Pollos' mind went back to yesterday at the barricade. Iron Liz met them when they went into the street, said that the Critic had died in battle, said it was an unfortunate accident. Accident, that's what she said. And it made sense. This did not make sense at all. Let the Critic die?? Why would Linkara ever do that???

“I don't need to justify myself to you. Not anymore. I did what I had to do. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Oh, aren't you just the big old Knight Templar!” Pollo could hear the scoff in Insanos' voice as he said this. “Everything you do is justified, right? You don't feel a hint of remorse over any of it, nothing's going to far, nothing's a mistake!”

“I didn't say that...”

“Well, you might as well have! All this carnage, Nostalgia Chick, Nostalgia Critic, and for what? So the world could struggle through another day without magic??”

Magic.

Pollos' head was buzzing again.

“We are hardly struggling by, in case you haven't noticed! And Nostalgia Chick wasn't my fault! We weren't even there when that happened, we couldn't do anything!”

Magic. The word echoed in Pollos' ears as he struggled for the meaning in it. Magic. He knew what it was, or at least what its official definition was. It was a thing that didn't exist. Linkara thought it existed, a long time ago, and it was a dark day when he announced that it didn't. Magic would have been helpful, magic would have fixed everything. But what could Linkara do? Magic didn't exist. Linkara said so. And Linkara never lied...

“We could have prevented her death and more, if we'd had the proper mechanics behind us from the beginning! But you know what? That doesn't matter anymore! That wasn't enough to get me acting again! You know what is? Directly allowing Burton of all creatures to slaughter one of our own, just so you can keep that precious gun of yours a secret!”

The gun. Linkaras' gun. Linkaras' magic gun.

No.

“That's what it is, isn't it?” Linkaras' voice was harsh, so harsh. “Your stupid vendetta with Burton! You've been blinded by irrelevant emotions ever since you first brought this up!” So harsh. And so cold.

“I've been blinded?? Me??? No. No, no, no, no, no. You're not going to get out of this one through petty button-pushing, Linkara! Not this time!”

This time...of course. Last week. The meeting. Insanos' breakdown.

We would have a far easier and less risky time of it if we had the power of magic...

Insanos' breakdown. The meeting. That was the day when all this trouble first started for Pollo. Trouble that couldn't have been avoided, trouble that Linkara would do anything to prevent from happening...

“I don't care anymore!” Linkara slammed something down on the table. What was it? What was he holding? The gun? Pollo desperately wanted to look, but he didn't dare let himself be seen.

“Did you ever care, Linkara? Did you?”

“Shut up! You don't know anything!”

“Indeed not. Look at yourself. Crying over a ridiculous hallucination. You're pathetic!”

“You didn't even like the Critic that much...”

“And again I ask...do you hear yourself???”

This couldn't be. It simply couldn't be, it made no sense. Why? Why would Linkara hide his magic gun from everyone? What was so special about it? Who cared what was special?? It wasn't special enough! It made no sense...

There’s no such thing as magic, Insano...You know that...

All the opportunities they could have had to do the extraordinary. All the times things were held back and prolonged because of limited resources. All the times PAOLA wasn't put out of their lives because they just weren't capable...

There’s no such thing as magic, Insano...

No such thing as magic...

“Hear me, Linkara.” Insanos' voice was as cold as Linkaras' was. He was as cold. He was as stupid. “I will never let this thing drop. I will not rest until justice is brought to this poor forsaken world! PAOLA will be defeated, everyone will be kept alive, and magic will be used to do it!”

“A lovely sentiment, Insano. But you're not getting this gun. Not now, not ever. So just do this crew a favor and stick to our plan, so we can get this Hell behind us already. Oh, and get out of my sight. If you would be so kind.”

“I see there's nothing further I can say to you, Linkara. For now, anyway. But don't think this is over, because it's not. Not by a long shot.”

With that Insano came storming around the corner and down the hall, past where little Pollo was crouching. He didn't see him there, for he was too steamed up. In retrospect, it probably wouldn't have changed anything if he had.

Pollo was frozen there, shaking like a leaf. He had no idea what to do. He was entirely unprepared for this. He needed to see Linkara. He needed assurance, he needed hope, he needed something to go right. Slowly he moved around the corner, and into the living room. Linkara was bent over the table, tears on his face, his whole body convulsing. Sure enough, in his right hand was his magic gun. Somehow this was enough to horrify Pollo. It was true, it was all true.

Linkara? He didn't know why he asked that. He just did.

Linkara looked up, and his face was like Pollo had never imagined he'd see. Full of anger, full of dark, full of hate. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

Pollo didn't speak. He couldn't.

“How much did you hear?” Now he was shouting, coming over towards him and Pollo was scared. Scared of Linkara. It felt so unreal, like a dream. “Well?? Say something, you stupid bucket of bolts! Stop standing there like an idiot and say something!”

I...you... Pollo didn't want to admit he heard anything. And mentioning the talk they were supposed to have was out of the question. I heard shouting...and...I wanted to see...

“See what? Why would you want to see anything?? Why is it any of your business what we were shouting about??” Screaming, so much screaming, screaming everywhere. Pollos' mind was screaming, and Linkara was screaming, and it was unlike him, so unlike him. “Everybody around here is the same, always sticking their nose where it doesn't belong! And you! Your nose doesn't even belong anywhere! You have no right to tell me anything!”

I...I wasn't...

“You're not even human! Do you understand that?? You don't have a soul, or a brain, or a heart! Your heart is steel! Cold steel! You feel nothing for anybody, why should you feel anything for me??” The room was echoing, Linkara was crying, and Pollo was taking in the words. Taking them where? What was he doing with them? He couldn't even tell.

I just wanted...Linkara. Pollo was pleading, and he hated that he was pleading. He hated a lot of things. I just wanted to know if you were okay...

“Get out!” Linkara shouted angrily, “You hear me, get out of here! Away from me! Right now! Don't just float there, do as I say!” With that he picked up a glass from the table and threw it at the wall, inches from where Pollo was. Pollo turned and sped, as fast as he could, out of the room and down the hall and up the stairs.

“Pollo...?” He heard as soon as he left. “Pollo, wait! Pollo!”

Pollo didn't wait. He kept on until he reached the master bedroom and slammed the door behind him, his head spinning as it had never spun before.