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Ache. That was something they had been feeling for a long, long time now.
It's stronger this time— in their stomach, specifically. It buzzed within it, vibrating— moving. That moment, feeling just a sudden sharp pain go through their entire body— Poppy screaming for them, they couldn't get it out. Replaying over, and over again.
Yet, they were still alive. How stubborn were they, really? They wanted to question how, but they did not have any guts (Pun not intended) to check whatever happened down there. They knew they were dropped into that Poppy gel thing, and it felt oddly cold. Well, if Giblet viewed them as safe and alive, then they will have to force themselves to trust his word. They were still walking— Their head didn't hurt.
It was just the ache. They didn't need to look at the wound, yes? The blood was from a previous battle, wasn't that right?
Besides, that aching feeling was quickly pushed aside when they brought the lone computer back to life. The human stared, purely shocked— Feeling the weight of their world get heavier.
The eye stared at them— and only them. Vulnerable.
"Speechless, still?" The human blinked, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. A dark chuckle vibrated through everything, they could feel it crawl behind their back. "You forever impress me— you've made quite the celebrity."
They felt Giblet's confused gaze land on them.
"The decisions you make so far— were they ever yours to begin with?" The eye squinted at the human mischievously. "I will remind you to not act so surprised, you are not the only one with miracles— Poppy's angel."
"Wait, you two know each other—?"
Poppy's angel, were they really? Ringing flooded their ears, blocking out the voices of both Giblet and the Doctor where they have focused their attention on something else. The sounds of crying— the multiple desperate faces of unchanging toys that looked up to them as one of their supposed heroes, now gone forever. Poppy's angel, an angel. They didn't know how to feel about that.
Then, a lowly chuckle cut off that ringing.
"Have I brought back a memory of yours?" The human blinked, their head looking up. Giblet stared at them in concern, Harley the opposite— more so he was amused at their misery. "Flattered by your nicknames?"
The human's eyes dropped in annoyance. They let out an exhale through their nose, fixing their posture. Not letting any noise get out of their own mouth still, pushing away their previous thoughts.
"Perhaps there will come the time where you will gain the ability to hold a proper conversation." The Doctor commented, his voice drenched in sarcasm.
In the next few minutes, the human let Giblet and Harley be the noise maker of the current conversation. The human was now questioning why it was only now Harley ever questioned their lack of talking, but the guy was currently the only person they couldn't care less to answer questions to. By the looks of it, the Doctor had keen interest in there being a chance to defeat the Prototype— though in the back of the human's mind, they knew that the Doctor would just treat this like another experiment and leave them all behind. They didn't trust him, and they know that the Doctor knows that.
In the meantime, they decided to enjoy the small sense of amusement they felt when Harley looked utterly helpless without his gigantic body. He was just a giant eyeball on a fat, small computer. Very silly.
Then it ached.
It came back again, the pain jumping on them all of the sudden. Their grip on the handles of their grabpack tightened, taking in all of the agonizing pain and confusion flooding in. They could feel this ache vibrating and physically moving around their stomach— in that wound that they wished to magically went away. Their eyes blinked rapidly, and they held their breath tightly. It was a poor attempt— but an attempt nonetheless to go unnoticed just for a moment.
Keep calm now.
You've seen and dealth with even worse.
You probably have some broken bones somewhere.
Yet you can still run!
Just a stomach ache.
Yes, a stomach ache! Totally what you should expect after GETTING STABBED—!
"Hm, perhaps your Butcher is finally at their limit." The human didn't even realize their head was tilting towards their ground— they recovered quickly, looking up— Stumbling slightly.
Giblet's concern look made them feel bad. "Hey, you okay?"
All they could do was give them a slight shrug and a small smile. The toy tilted his head at that, they ignored Harley's uncomfortable gaze on them.
"If you say so," Giblet continued talking despite his obvious concerns. "We'll need to find some parts for uhm— him," he gestured towards Harley, the computer. The human almost whined about that— he was better as a computer. "You'll be getting the main cores for his body, and I'll be out as well keeping guard and hopefully find some extra metal and materials just in case. Sounds good?"
What other choice did they have? Well, it was Giblet, it's fine. The human nodded slightly.
"He'll print out a map for you around the area." Giblet stood up straight and began to walk towards a vent that was perfect for his size. "Good luck, and stay safe."
…
For some reason, it was quite funny seeing a regular printer do its job. Meat grinders, multiple cassette tapes, advanced operating rooms and indoor trains— now, a regular printer. Funny.
They watched as the printer slowly spat out the piece of paper that will be their number one important item for the rest of the mission. While it buzzed in the background, they zoned out— reminiscing back on around a week ago. They used a printer for something they now completely forgot about. Obviously, it was most likely a document, but they could not for the life of theirs remember what the document was about—
"A witness to the wonderous advencements of science's battle with fate and the laws of life itself, yet a simple, pathetic printer manages to pull you in a trance?" The human did not bother to look at the Doctor. "You concern me."
Of course, there was nothing true behind that statement. The human grabbed the map when it was done and took one look at it.
"Are we not allies now, Butcher?" Harley's voice echoed within the place. An attempt to mock them.
The human held back a groan at that. They swiftly pocketed the map and made their way to the exit, the opposite side of the room from where Giblet had gone. They placed a hand on the door.
"Or would you prefer Angel?"
The hand travelled to the doorknob a bit too quickly. They twisted it in an instant. Confusion, irritation— Anger, all of it transferred, tossing it away from somewhere else. They should not be worked up.
Do not be vulnerable, ignore that ache, and they will get over this.
"I would wish you the best of luck, but no one would hurt an angel, yes?"
The door was slammed quite loudly.
Ache. It rung in the midst of pure silence, accompanied with the quiet humming of distant machinery within the godforsaken factory.
Silence was meant to feel like nothing.
But with this ache— it screamed at them.
By the hell and heavens themselves, they were still alive. How? They knew that no one else should have the answer but themselves, but even they were questioning everything. Was it really fate or just pure stubborness? Or maybe if they were kinder to themselves, it was passion. The light in their eyes flooded in and out, their lungs could practically be pushed out of their throat with how deep they were panting.
They managed to safely arrive at the famililar hallway where Harley and Giblet should be waiting, and they were dragging their feet to make it there. Their grip on the grabpack felt weaker than before, and for goodness sake— their back that was wrapped around the thing itself was going to give them more consequences that will haunt them forever physically.
They got to the door. They could feel the presence of two people inside. They were talking, but their voices were too muffled for them to understand. The human stopped in their tracks in front of the door, and groaned quietly. They slightly slammed their own forehead in the door itself, resting. Their body was currently in a slihtly awkward pose due to the damn grabpack.
A little chime went to their ears, they quickly recognized it from Glowby. Their eyelids separated, and their eyes tirelessly gazed towards the small star toy that had been polite company for the past few hours. The toy had its worried look on its face, nothing more. The human sighed, feeling the guilt of making something— no, someone that hadn't done any wrong towards them feel any sort of concern over them. They lifted their head away from the door and adjusted their back. It was still sore, but what else can they do? They took one last look at Glowby.
It was back to smiling. That made them feel a tiny bit better.
They took a deep breath— just a few more pushes. No more twists, no more turns— and maybe, just maybe, no more killing. Glimpses of faces from a few hours or a day ago went by. No more killing, or at least— let the next be their last. No more, no less.
They opened the door, already feeling eyes on them.
Giblet was in the same spot he once was, and the computer was still sitting there.
"You're back!" Giblet cheered, he skipped towards the human. Harley said nothing, they were almost glad.
They could almost let out a smile at Giblet's presence. Letting the door close behind them, they brought out the parts they had just retrieved mere moments ago. The toy in front of them was giving his thanks and sharing his amazement by their success— important cable cords, specific batteries, they managed to bring back everything.
Then a pause, the human finally looked up. A similar looking robotic body stood in the middle. The human blinked at the new sight.
"Heh— I'm not the best mechanic around here, so it isn't the best." Giblet told them. He looked up at the human next in excitement. "But with the parts you brought in— The body will be done for the— uhm, Backup."
The human gave a look— not to Giblet, but to Harley. The eye changed to a squint once again.
"I'll take it from here— go ahead and rest!" The human watched Giblet hobble over to the robotic body with the parts in his hands.
Hm, what to do. They were used to being told to run errands to pass the time. The voices of Giblet and Harley as they conversed with each other slowly muffled. The Doctor instructed Giblet on which part should go where.
Then it ached.
They did not let themselves react yet. However, when the ache still had its same agonizing pain, they told themselves that perhaps leaning against something will help resolve it. They forced themselves to a nearby wall, trying their best to lean. They quickly realized that the grabpack was no use since it left them in an awkward pose. They desperately removed it from their shoulders and tried settling it onto the ground as quietly as possible.
Giblet was electrocuting something with his staff, Harley was still yapping, good. They didn't notice anything.
Ache. It was worse than before.
They tried keeping their face neutral. Their back straightened, they pinned themselves onto the wall.
It was violent.
They closed their throat shut— and the world spun, vision going in and out.
The ache stung— like something dragging their insides slowly.
Subconsciously, they lightly placed a hand over their stomach.
Wet. It was wet through their shirt.
"Hm, something far more interesting is happening over there."
"Huh—? Butcher—!"
That was the last thing they heard before they saw the floor.
...
It screamed at them— it HURTS—
They let out a gasp— it was something still so soft and hard to hear. They forced their eyes wide opened, but panic ensued when everything was a wet blur. They felt tears flooding their eyes— and all they could tell was something rather large loomed over them. It was boxy like, and there was an uncomfortable bright light that looked like static. It stung their eyes.
They didn't know what the hell was happening— but everything hurt. It burns, something burns— in the middle. Their stomach—
"You are quite the patient."
The human heard themselves let out another shakey gasp— they felt poking from somewhere— it was cold, sharp— all they felt was panic and pain.
"Hush now— you are stubborn, yet determined— are you not?"
Harley… They let out a cry— then they felt something rip. Stinging, deep pain went through their entire body. This agonizing pain made them freeze— all they could do was let out panicked, shakey gasps and crying.
"Fascinating. You continue to perform great miracles even in this state, Angel."
The human attempted to lift one of their hands up. It landed on something, it was metal. Their grip was weak.
"Giblet."
Tears endlessly ran out from their eyes, falling onto the cold ground beneath them.
"Giblet. It is for the best— their constant moving is a risk of further damage. Do it."
The human felt something stayed somewhere on their stomach— it was sharp, not moving. Then, a bright blueish light flashed rapidly in the corner of their eyes. They managed to sense another presence.
"I'm sorry— I'll make it up to you when you wake up!"
A zap— A quick scream. Then quiet dark.
...
There was ache.
This time, however, it was quietly buzzing within. Very quiet, it was something that was a bit easy to ignore. More annoying than life threathening.
Vision slowly came back to the human, a dark ceiling. Their world still spun— and it was sore everywhere. They heard themselves groaning when all of their senses came back them.
Then something flooded their throat— They were choking. They brought their hands to their neck by instinct.
"Let me help you, bud— c'mon." It all happened too fast— two small pairs of hands were suddenly pushing their back to help them sit.
Then they coughed— they felt those hands gently pat them on their back.
"Just breathe— calm down." It was Giblet— just Giblet. Thank goodness.
Their head tilted towards the floor, there were liquid substances being spat out. After they had calmed down, their eyes adjusted slowly— gazing at the scene. Red, it was dark red.
Shakey breaths, they felt a slight headache forming. However, that ache in their stomach was gone. They paused, holding their breath at that realization. Slowly, they moved their hand to their chest, then slowly slid it down to their stomach.
Hard metal.
They blinked, ringing in their ears— they didn't move their hand.
What did he—
"There is no need to be so dramatic." His voice boomed from across the room.
The human slowly titled their head towards him. The eye was now on his body, Harley was freely moving around.
"I just had to do a bit of… Cleaning, that's all." The Doctor casually explained. The human didn't show a response. "The Prototype did a lousy work on your wound— very careless. No respect for such specimen like you."
The human looked away from the robot towards Giblet. The toy was carrying their grabpack and walking towards them with it. He placed it down neatly beside them.
"Take it easy," the toy advised them. The human slightly nodded, appreciating it— though they knew they wouldn't be able to follow it soon. "And uh— sorry, I kinda of had to zap you to make you pass out—"
"By any means you should be thanking us." The human frowned at that statement from the Doctor. Giblet said nothing to that, more nervous to butt in. "You were stubbornly squirming around when you woke up in the middle of my fixing— quite rude if I say so myself."
"Can you walk?" Giblet held out his hand. "Here, let me help you."
The human took it— grunting in the process. Weirdly, they felt more secure physically. The metal wasn't noticeable, everything felt in place— still, they did not want to look at it. Giblet took the grabpack once more and lifted it up for them. The human gave him a small smile, wearing the tool after.
"We talked about a plan while you were sleeping." Giblet informed them. "We can talk about it while walking! Let's go!"
Giblet excitedly skipped towards the doorway, passing by the Doctor. The human let themselves take their time walking.
"Will you not question what exactly I've done to you?" He questioned them when they were at the doorway.
The human paused in their tracks, but did not let the Doctor meet their gaze. They felt his eyes on them, a familiar feeling— being perceived, experimented on. The human had no response.
"Fine, have it your way." Harley stood up, leaving first before them. "We can not afford leaving your guts spilling out on themselves anyway."
The human watched as the robotic figure walked away, his footsteps clanking on the ground every step. It was silent.
The human let one hand go from the grabpack handle, placing it on their stomach once more. Pure metal. They slid up towards their chest— soft skin.
…
Ache.
This time— it was the ache of being alive.