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Sarge sat in the mechanic shop he claimed for himself at their ‘retirement’ moon. After Chorus, even he was too tired to keep fighting. A break was very much needed so he went willingly when the rest of his team did.
It wasn’t long until he was fully charged and ready for a fight. However, there was just nothing there to fight. There wasn’t a war that he needed to win, not anymore.
He started collecting metal pieces early on. It had always been one of his habits, grabbing any spare parts he could carry back with him. Even as a kid, he remembered taking televisions and old cameras apart just for the metal parts inside.
In the garage, he would sort through the pieces and think about what he could use them for. Sarge rarely threw anything away, telling anyone who asked that he never knew when he might need it. Everything in there had a purpose and a place.
Lopez was the only other person that went into the garage. Often times that’s where he would go offline while everyone else slept.
While the robot stood in the corner, Sarge picked through the random parts on his table. The clock on the wall said that it was almost three in the morning. He had gone to sleep close to midnight but after just two hours he made his way back to his garage to tinker. It was one of the few times that he wasn’t in his armor. Just a shirt, some shorts, and the slippers that Donut had stitched up for him.
Lopez came back online about an hour into Sarge’s tinkering, not shocked to see the older man in there at this time.
“Don’t you ever sleep, old man?”
Sarge perked up at the robot’s voice, turning to him with a smile.
“Lopez! Hola, amigo. Just going through this haul here.” He turned back to the table, a slight tremor in his hands and he picked up a wrench. He was tired, Lopez could tell.
He was always more aware of Sarge than any other member of the team. Probably because Sarge had been the one to create him, gave him the mind that he has now. Not that it made Sarge any less of an idiot who could only make robots that speak Spanish while also not knowing any Spanish at all.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Now now, no need to butter me up.” Sarge mumbled, turning his desk lamp down to focus on the piece of metal in front of him.
Lopez wasn’t sure why he even bothered. Sarge was known to make up entire conversations by himself with anything the robot said.
Every logical part of him wanted to leave Sarge there. He could imagine the man in a sleep deprived state tripping on any number of things and not getting back up. Or trying to pick something up and getting crushed. The garage was far away from the barracks, there’s a chance that no one would hear him.
But Lopez would never leave him like that. Maybe it was some sort of weird loyalty that he felt to the man in front of him. Maybe he just didn’t want to be left alone with the rest of these idiots. Or maybe he actually cared about the old man.
If Lopez had eyes he would have rolled them at himself. For a robot, he was surprisingly human.
So he stayed and watched over Sarge until the man finally got up.
“Good night Lopez.” He walked past the robot, putting a hand on his shoulder before turning off the lights and leaving. Lopez didn’t have to tell him that it was almost dawn.
This pattern kept going on, and it was starting to worry Lopez. Sarge was barely ever sleeping now, deciding that he’d rather build than get some rest.
“You don’t even know how to make anything yourself. Why are you doing this?”
“No, I don’t think that kind of machinery would fit here Lopez.”
“All of this junk is useless. And so are you.”
“Excellent idea, my bionic friend!”
“I hate you.”
Still, Lopez didn’t leave Sarge alone. Occasionally he’d even help him by holding the end of something or picking up an engine for him to work with.
Sarge kept himself awake by talking to Lopez.
“I joined the military to fight for my people and stayed to kill some dirty blues, but I could have been one of those galaxy famous engineers, you know?”
“Real engineers have to read instructions, idiot.”
“I know, I know my skills would be missed by everyone on this team. Hell, half of them would be dead by now.” Sarge mused, cleaning the barrel of his shotgun for what felt like the millionth time. “Never did like school much though, so I guess that wouldn’t’ve work out.”
“No shit.”
“Anyhow, I should probably-“
“Sarge?!” Another voice came from outside the garage, and Simmons stumbled in. He was holding his bionic arm, looking worried.
“What is it Simmons, we’re having a conversation here!”
“My arm keeps messing up, it’s killing me and I keep hitting myself.”
“Alright, alright. Sit down and settle down. Lopez, grab me that drill.”
Simmons obeyed, whining under his breath. Lopez did what he was told, setting the drill down while Sarge started looking through his scraps.
“Get ready to die, idiot” Lopez muttered to Simmons, who didn’t answer and kept shaking his leg.
“Simmons, what the hell?” Grif came in, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “You ran out like you were getting chased.”
“Sarge is fixing me.”
“Oh, well good.” Grif tried to sound like he didn’t care but failed miserably. He took a seat on one of the empty chairs just in time for Donut to rush in.
“What happened? Why is everyone running?! I checked the beds and everyone was gone!!” The blonde was freaking out and behind him Carolina walked in, looking a little bewildered.
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. Simmons here just has a malfunctioning arm.” Sarge sat down, pulling Simmons’ arm to get a good look at it.
“Looks like I need to replace this part.” He motioned to his hand and wrist.
“My hand?”
“No, you’re hair. Yes, your hand. Shut it private.” Sarge started drilling, pulling the pieces off slowly. All of the spectators leaned in, moving closer for a good look. Donut came over behind Sarge, practically draping himself over his back. The man pulled off the last of the bad pieces, leaving Simmons without a hand. Already he looked less in pain, so obviously something was working.
“Red, grab that box of wires above your head for me.” Carolina did what she was told, bringing the box over to the table. Sarge pulled out what looked like a piece of trash and started weaving it into a sort of tendon for the wrist.
Everyone watching in wonder as he started making a new hand for Simmons. It was a fascinating process, even Lopez had to agree. Sarge built the arm with nothing more than just some random pieces he had saved up in that mess of a shop.
Hours later, Simmons had a fully functioning arm once again. No longer in pain, he thanked Sarge and he and Grif walked back to their beds. Carolina followed close behind, complimenting Sarge on his skills.
“Good thing you were in here Sarge.” Donut mused, helping his put the leftover things away.
“I’m always in here Donut.”
“Yeah, but it’s almost 6 am. What were you doing in here?”
“Same thing I do every night, keeping Lopez company.”
“What?”
The robot had been quiet almost the entire time, but couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sarge was keeping him company?! Lopez was the one making sure that the old man didn’t get himself killed in this death trap of a shop!
“Not a lot of people know this Donut, but robots actually rust faster if they’re lonely.”
“Wow Sarge, I never knew that! But, maybe you should try and get some more sleep?”
“Don’t be silly, too much sleep makes ya lazy!” Sarge said, right before yawning loud.
“You’re gonna kill yourself, you crazy old man.” Donut laughed at them both, tugging Sarge out of the garage.
“Come on, come on, let’s go to sleep.”
“If you insist. Night Lopez.”
“Nighty, night Lopez!”
“Leave me alone, bastards.”
“Love you too!”
Lopez stood in shop, contemplating going offline again. He would never, ever admit it to himself or anyone else but it had started to feel nice listening to Sarge talk. Maybe he had started feeling lonely, maybe Sarge’s company felt good.
Maybe he was more human that he thought.