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Zero was in bad shape.
One arm torn clean off—although “clean” wasn’t quite the right word, given the jagged edges of metal and synthskin, the frayed internal cables poking through. Deep gashes in his torso, the side with the missing arm almost laid bare and one laceration extending to his face. Mechanisms and circuits in plain sight, sparking and snapping; a couple motor cables poking out of his cheek and the surface of one eye torn away to reveal the blank blue lightbulb underneath. He'd looked better.
Mechaniloids with steel-trap jaws tended to do that.
The 0th Unit had laid him out in a rock crevice away in safety; the battle was finished but they weren't going to take chances. The field medic had pronounced him, well, not currently dying, at least, but added nervously that that might change if he didn't get emergency attention. HQ had been alerted, and emergency services were on their way.
There was nothing to do now but wait. At least Zero wasn't screaming, the way any lesser reploid might—but his harsh saw-edged breathing, the contorted grimace on his face, the writhing and the teeth clenched tight to hold in the whimpers were a harrowing sight all the same. No one needed a medic to tell them that Zero was in incalculable pain.
There was a commotion at the edge of the group, and absolutely no one was surprised to see X pushing his way through. “Zero?” he inquired, voice taut with tension, and then hurried over to where Zero lay. “Zero—!”
Zero’s one good eye focused dully on him. “You’re—” he tried, and then choked off through another spasm of pain. “You’re—supposed to—be—” It seemed to be taking him a great deal of effort just to form words.
“I’ve left them in capable hands,” said X. “And most of the fighting is over. They can afford to have me come over here for a bit.” He bit his lip and stared down at Zero, at Zero’s mangled severed arm that someone had propped up next to him, then spun around and addressed the rest of the reploids. “You called medical?”
A general response of “Yes, sir.”
“How long?”
The murmured consensus was at least two hours.
“Shit,” hissed X. He contemplated Zero’s shuddering form a moment more, then dropped quietly to his knees beside him. “Zero…” It came out as a murmur, seemingly half-conscious; one hand ran over Zero’s chest, gently, skirting the damaged areas with great care, before coming up to cup the side of his face.
And then X had Zero’s face in both his hands and was leaning in and there wasn’t a single reploid present who didn’t think he was about to kiss him, except that Zero’s remaining hand came up and clumsily covered X’s face, pushing him back, and Zero said, “No.” It came with great difficulty.
“Please,” said X. “Let me do this for you—”
“I can’t…” Harsh, heavy breathing. “...let you.”
“I know my limits,” said X steadily. “And I’ll only take fifty percent. Please, let me—” His voice cracked. “I don't want to see you like this.”
Approximately thirty pairs of eyes were on the two of them, in fascinated bewilderment.
Slowly, Zero removed his hand from X’s face, and brought it around his neck instead, pulling him close.
The gesture was slow and intimate and X’s eyes slid shut as he moved in—but they didn’t kiss, and the confusion in the rocky corner of the dead battlefield only grew as X pressed the crystal on his forehead to Zero’s. A mental link? At a time like this? What crucial information needed to be delivered in such high security at this moment, and what was that they were talking about just—
The two crystals began to give a gentle pulsing glow, in unison, and X’s fingers began to tighten on Zero’s face.
Rapt attention from the surrounding audience as the link continued. X removed one hand from Zero’s face, braced it on the ground, and his fingers scraped against the rock; a grimace crept over his face and his spine curled inward, tense and shivering. Zero’s spasming subsided, his breath coming a little less harsh, his mouth relaxing from where he’d been biting down on his bottom lip in agony. A choking sound came from X’s throat, a jerky string of noises of unmistakeable pain—
Pain?
X’s eyes opened and he pulled away, his movements stiff and labored. The crystal on his forehead continued pulsing in gentle unison with Zero’s. “How…” he began, broke off, took a shaky breath, and tried again. “How is it now?”
“Bit better,” croaked Zero. He shifted, as though testing his injuries, and winced; X winced in unison, and Zero managed to give a shaky grin even with half his cheek torn away. “You're... too sentimental... you know that?”
He was clearly still in pain, but it didn't seem to be at all as bad as before; and X was slowly, painstakingly settling into a sitting position next to him with closed eyes and labored breathing. The collective bewilderment began cresting into disbelief.
—a mental link was one thing already, supremely vulnerable, kind of embarrassing really, used in official settings only for emergency transfers of information, but the kind of depth of interface needed to—to—to take someone’s pain off of them? No mere exchange of memory, but reaching deep into someone’s core, into the deepest and most primal parts of them, and willingly taking that kind of a burden off their hands? With an ease and fluidity implying they’d connected on that close and entwined a level before? That was—that was—
—intimate. A few of the reploids present began coughing, averting their gazes, awkwardly shuffling their feet, with the growing feeling that they were witnessing something deeply private; something they weren’t supposed to be seeing.
When medical arrived there was a general rearranging of the crowd to let them through. Lifesaver gazed for a moment at both Zero and X wracked with pain, and whipped around to stare at the nearest 0th Unit member. “I thought you said only Zero was hurt.”
“He was—” In bits and pieces from the surrounding crowd, the story was relayed.
Lifesaver pinched his nose and stared down at the two prone figures. “That was very stupid of you.”
“See?” gasped Zero, turning to X, and X offered up a weak smile. “Sorry.”
“All right, all right, we'll save that for later. Can you stand?“
X climbed to his feet, slowly, painstakingly. Zero followed, or tried to; with only one arm to prop himself up, he fell over again, and X’s whole body shuddered from the echo of the impact.
Lifesaver’s frown deepened. “X, cut the connection.”
X shook his head.
“X. You've done enough.”
“I'm not cutting it as long as he's conscious,” gritted out X.
Lifesaver turned in exasperation to the medical team, who provided an assortment of shrugs. Two of them stepped forward and hauled Zero up by his remaining arm—he and X cried out in unison. Zero was maneuvered into the stretcher with hisses of pain as X's teeth gritted and his fists clenched. Someone picked up Zero's other arm, lying a few feet away, and laid it down on the stretcher next to him like an oversized chew toy.
“Roll him over,” instructed Lifesaver. “Find the emergency switch. We're not going to be able to form the proper procedures on him if he's still conscious.” He glared at X. “After this the link will be severed, yes?”
X could only offer up a weak nod.
“Good.” The emergency hatch on Zero’s back was popped open. A tiny numbers pad, the override code keyed in with hurried precision, and then Lifesaver pressed the off button.
There was a click. X gasped at the sudden lack of connection, swaying like a puppet with cut strings even as Zero went limp and his machinery powered down with a soft whine. Two of the squad rushed forward to help him, but he steadied himself and held out a hand to stay them.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Absently, he touched his cheek, as though wondering to find it intact. “Lifesaver, will he be all right?”
The harshness and labor of pain were gone from his voice, and he was standing up straight again. Everyone was watching with a certain degree of awe, gazes flitting to Zero on the stretcher.
“He should be all right,” said Lifesaver grimly. “But it’ll be long and complicated getting him back to normal. Several hours of surgery before we can even get started on the external repairs.” Grudgingly he added, after a moment, “You probably saved him a world of hurt.”
“I did what I could.”
“For Zero, certainly.” X grimaced at that. One didn’t get to be a high-profile Hunter in an ambiguous relationship with another high-profile Hunter without enduring certain rebukes on unprofessional favoritism. “We’re going back to base. Are there any more seriously wounded?”
X turned around, taking in the assembled reploids and apparently performing a quick head count. “Most of them were able to teleport back on their own… There are a couple over in the 17th Unit who were having difficulty, though. I’ll show you to them...”
“Please do.”
With one last glance at Zero, now being loaded into the emergency vehicle, X left; Lifesaver followed. The 0th Unit was left to stare—at each other, at the splashes of motor oil on the bare rock where Zero’s wounded form had been.
When an intact and repaired Zero was wheeled out of the repair bay many exhausted hours later, a new layer of solder scars the only indication of what he'd been through, X was waiting for him, hurrying over to the gurney and bracing his hands besides Zero’s prone form. Zero came back online, blue eyes opening slowly, and as he began to sit up X’s arms went around him; they held each other tightly for a very long time.
By wordless agreement, everyone gave them their space.