fuck you adam

It was only now, in the space between dream and waking, that I had recognized the look on Adam's face. I could have accepted hatred or anger at me for disobeying him, disappointing him all those times. It wasn't the approval that I wanted, but it would have been enough. It would show that he at least had felt something for me. But that wasn't what I had found. It was much worse.

It was complete, total apathy.

All these years, ever since he'd first announced himself as my commanding officer, I'd been staring in those eyes for something more. But I saw it for what it was now. If there was a flicker of emotion, it was nothing more than that subconscious thrill of being in charge, asserting his dominance over his soldiers.

Somewhere along the line, I had confused that feeling of having someone, another human being over me, as love. But all I had done was be an easy target for his power trips.

My entire body started to shake. I was stronger than this, wasn't I? Was I really so weak, so dependent, so desperate for some kind of acceptance that I allowed myself to be controlled like this? I shuddered deeper remembered the scorching heat I'd forced myself to endure because of his negligence. I'd given him total power over me and he'd nothing but hurt me. The image of him staring at the monitor flickered through my mind, watching me run, my skin starting to burn, the heat threatening to choke me to death in my own armour. His finger toyed with the communications button, but didn't press down. Why would he when he could watch me struggle for just a few more seconds?
I swear there was the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

It was getting harder and harder to hold on to my feelings of fondness for the man. I'm still not sure why it was only now that these feelings had started to bubble to the surface, but they were strong, having years to be built up after being buried under the crushing pressure of being desperate for his approval. It started out gentle, but was raising fast.

It was hatred. But not just any hatred. An exhilarating hatred. In all my life I'd almost never felt anything as viscerally satisfying at the idea of hating this man and what he did to me. It was as if some enormous weight had been lifted off my back, as if I had finally grabbed hold of my own reins and, for once, for one glorious moment, I had total control of myself again.

But these feelings didn't come without a protest. It was as if there was some little girl in my head, screaming, crying, begging me to not take away her daddy. He was all I had, right? I'd never known a human being as intimately, as closely as I had known Adam. I needed his memory to keep myself strong. This wasn't right. I shouldn't be mad at him. I was just a stupid little girl, unable to handle myself under my own hand. His guidance had helped me, hadn't it?

Even in sleep, I felt the tears stream down my face. It wasn't even really from sadness, but fom the sheer intensity of the emotions running through me. The girl had a point. Maybe it was because it'd been so long since I'd known anything else, but I could barely imagine a life without Adam's presence. And he was the closest thing to a human father I had. My last link to my own kind. How could I just throw that away?

Those thoughts, however, were immediately silenced by another flicker of memory. This one had been drudged up from somewhere deep in my mind, so old and faded that I was barely convinced it was real. It was a very faint image of a charcoal drawing, very crude as if a small child had drawn it. But that simple image brought others with it. Like my tiny hands, smudged black. The sound of my much younger voice laughing. My face pulled up into a proud smile as I tugged on Old Bird's hand to show him what I'd drawn. My eyes closing as his talons ruffled my fluffy hair and praised me for my good work...

That was it. Exactly what I needed to hear.

A newfound strength had filled my dream self. Walking up to Adam, I shoved him, getting a shiver of satisfaction as he fell to the ground.

I didn't need him. I couldn't stop repeating that in my head. I didn't need him, not as a commanding officer, not as a father figure, not even as a spectre of a person I once knew. I didn't need a human surrogate when I already had those in my life that had let me grow, given me room to be strong on my own merits, had faith that I could handle myself and more than anything, didn't feel the need to own me. That they weren't human was, at this point, irrelevant.
I didn't need him, I thought, as I stripped off his armour. His apathy and smugness were soon replaced by fear, and his voice was full of protest, indignant of the fact that he was having his power stripped from him. He was losing control of his situation, something he likely had never in his life been forced to deal with. His words didn't even register with me. It's not that I didn't care about his pain, I actively wanted it. I would normally never let myself be this unprofessional, but it was my dream. And I needed this.

There was a flash. Power rippled its way over every inch of my body. I looked down, seeing that I was fully-armoured now (Varia suit, of course, making me smile with a grim sort of irony) and standing over him, watching him writhe and struggle on the ground, completely vulnerable. Before I knew it my foot was on his chest, forcing him down onto the ground. He impotently grabbed my leg, trying to tug me off of them, trying vainly to wrench that last little bit of power over me free, but there was no chance.

My foot moved to his neck, demanding his total attention. Finally his words were choked out and he sputtered pathetically. He was mine. His life was completely in my hands.

Perfect.

I drank in his look of absolute terror as I pointed my cannon at his face. I smiled as I began charging...

I woke up.

I was staring up at the ceiling of my tiny room, breathing heavily. I was still just a bit dazed from the intensity of what I had awakened from. My heart was beating fast, and there was a dull, warm throbbing under the sheets.
But there was one emotion I couldn't let go of. And I didn't want to. It'd been gone from my life for so many years, after all...

Freedom.