Chapter Text
It was one of those normal, lazy days. Sung and Havve were doing whatever it was they did in the basement, while Phobos and Meouch took the living room. Phobos’ ability to sprawl across the couch with a guitar in his lap made it impossible for nearly anyone to move or sit by him, and with Meouch seated by him, game controller in hand, he found it more impressive than annoying.
It was an interesting symphony; Phobos doing scales, plucking notes, making weird little melodies, to the background of periodic gunfire from the TV, Meouch running through terrain, characters yelling at him. Just had they had both truly started to relax, just gotten into a calming rhythm, Sung managed to ruin everything.
"AUGH!"
A sudden, guttural scream, just barely muffled through the floor, rang out from the basement, making them both jolt suddenly. After the initial startle had worn off, Meouch snorted, the clacking of his controller starting again.
"You think he'd be better at this by now," he commented, and Phobos scoffed out a laugh, lightly kicking Meouch with his heel. Soon enough they were back to their quiet enjoyments, Phobos strumming out notes and chords, Meouch mumbling softly to himself.
Then there was a thumping, stomps, perfectly in time, up the basement steps and getting closer, louder. The basement door burst open, flung open hard enough to bounce against the wall, but not enough to hit Havve as he stood there.
"Jesus, Havve," Meouch cursed, pausing his game. "You scared the piss out of me."
Havve just glowered at them.
Phobos pulled his guitar off his lap, moved to stand, glanced between Havve and Meouch. Havve waved his hand, beckoning them towards him, towards the basement. He didn't start to head down until they both came over. Even coming down the stairs, he kept peering over his shoulder at them, as if he was looking for some reaction from them. Phobos matched him, trying to peer around Meouch's head and shoulders. Meouch stopped sharply at the bottom, and Phobos crashed into him. Havve continued on.
Sung was slumped at his work bench, head back against his chair, body limp and wires trailing off him. His core glowed through his shirt, these long, slow, pulses, like a computer in standby. His eye was open, but he wasn't awake. The colour of his iris was this deep blue, like the edge of the sky after sunset.
There was a computer on his bench next to him, the old piece of junk he kept, tinkered with. It was on, lit up the same dim blue as his eye, a message on its screen:
[REBOOT? Y/N]
"Hogan," Meouch finally said after taking it all in, "what happened?"
Havve seemed to hesitate for a minute. His hands hovered in the air, one going for his jaw, and then stopped. They both moved, signing, rather than turning on his voice. That was too slow for this, apparently.
"Don't know what Sung was doing," he eventually got out, "I think he was making a new backup. Something went wrong and he yelled. I checked him out and I think he lost some of his memory." It was slow, almost stilted, and he spelled out a lot of it.
"He lost-- how much did he lose?"
Havve just shrugged.
"Great," Meouch mumbled, running a hand through his mane, scratching his scalp.
"He could have just lost up to his last sleep cycle," Havve signed
"So we'll boot him back up," Phobos signed, stepping around Meouch. He put his hands on his hips, then wavered, raised them again. "That won't break him, right?"
Havve didn't answer. He just moved to Sung's desk, and hit enter.
The prompt went away, and wasn't replaced by anything for a moment. Names of systems popped up, loaded bits, and left just as quickly. Most of it was readable, Sung's named systems something understandable.
Eventually everything stopped.
An error noise. A metallic pop .
[Data has been corrupted. Load backup?]
There was a small sigh of relief. He'd lost the day, or however long he'd been awake, but he was fine. Still there. Havve accepted it yet again.
[Loading backup from -891/68.349].
As quickly as the message appeared, it was gone.
"The hell was that?" Meouch asked. Again, Havve only shrugged.
Looks ancient as shit , Phobos said mentally, making Meouch at least nervously glance around, while Havve only stared at Sung.
Sung sat up in his seat, perfect posture. His mouth moved, sound came out, and they all knew the sound translated as "calibrating" but that wasn't what they heard. It was translated for them, he wasn't speaking English.
The colour of Sung's iris shifted to its usual colour, a brighter blue, and he started to look around the room. His ears moved, taking in all the sounds he could, and eventually he settled on the trio clustered in front of him.
"Hello!" he said, that same dissonance of sound and meaning. "I'm Doctor Sung, may I ask your names?"
"You don't remember," Meouch mumbled.
"Hm?" Sung asked, leaning forward. "Remember what?" He tilted his head, polite smile on his face. "Has something happened?"
The three other members of the band shared a look. Sung didn't recognize any of them, not even Havve, but at least he knew who he was, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
It did, however, hit all the criteria for an awkward moment. Thankfully, Sung was flat out too young again to really grasp that.
Or too alien.
He looked at everyone, this curious glimmer in his eye, but the hue shifting to something cautious, afraid. An elbow to his side, and Meouch spoke up.
“You got rebooted, so you’re not when you think you are.” They all waited for Sung to respond.
He nodded, slowly.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Meouch asked.
“Oh, let’s see,” Sung mumbled, looking up. That disconnect persisted, the shape of his mouth matching his words only retroactively, the sounds they heard not really they ones he was making. “My parents were hooking me up to do a back up before I leave home the next day.”
Meouch looked back to Phobos, then Havve. Havve tilted his head, if Phobos had pupils they would’ve blown out.
He’s like, 16. Havve buzzed in their heads. It was strange, still carried that robotic tone. Like, maturity-wise. He’s an even bigger idiot than usual.
“Wh- sixteen?” Meouch hissed, looking over his shoulder at Havve, keeping an eye on Sung. “Isn’t that kinda young to be, y’know, sent off planet?”
Phobos piped up. They send kids in England to college that young.
“That’s England!” Meouch said through his teeth. “And that’s college, not space!”
“Is there a problem?” Sung asked. For the first time, worry seeped through his voice. “Am I-- have I been damaged?”
“No,” Meouch responded, “no, we’re sure you’re fine. You’re just a long time and place away from when you last remember.”
Sung nodded again. “And where is that? And who are all of you?” he finally asked.
Havve shoved Meouch back, determined to answer. His hand to his jaw, his slow voice croaking out, he gave Sung their full names; Meouch first, then Phobos, then himself. His other hand waved in a circle, gesturing to all four of them.
“Friends,” he said simply, then pushed out, “fam-uh-lee.”
“Oh!” Sung perked up, clasped his hands together. “Oh, you’re my crew!” With that he started to stand up, and the shout that came out of the other three was just enough force to knock him back down.
“You’re still plugged in!” Meouch shouted.
"Oh," Sung said softly. "Should I be unplugged then?"
Meouch looked to Havve. Havve didn't look back. "...I guess so?" Havve stepped forward, the only one other than Sung that knew where his ports were. He slipped in behind Sung's chair without much fuss, his hand going to Sung's ear, and pulling something out of the bone there, making Sung wince.
"Warn him first?" Meouch muttered, intonation going up at the end of his request.
Havve seemed to glare, then nodded. His hand cupped the back of Sung's head, and he tapped a few times either side his neck, closing in on where the wire was connected. A light warning tug, and then a firm yank. Sung still made a soft noise, but didn't jerk.
"Does it hurt?" Meouch asked.
"No," Sung said, starting to shake his head. "It doesn't feel good, but it doesn't hurt."
Meouch glanced to Havve, a sudden movement of his hand. A kind of "come here" motion, but more upwards.
Meouch copied it. "He needs ya to stand up."
As soon as Sung did, Havve pulled up the bottom of his shirt with one hand, the other pulling something away from Sung's skin; a wider, flat cable, that with his shirt pulled up, Meouch and Phobos could see it wind from his back to his front, presumably to his core.
"Hey!" Sung shouted, starting to turn and smack Havve's hands away. He stopped just as quickly, afraid to rip something.
Havve gave something of a pleading look to Meouch.
Meouch raised his eyebrows in response. The core seemed like something they maybe shouldn't tell him about. It seemed like a bit much to drop on a kid. Havve tilted his head, got that glint in his optics, and Meouch relented.
"...There's a port on your chest, too. The cable for it's taped around your torso, that's what he's getting."
Sung glanced down at himself, at his chest. He touched it gingerly, fingers over the glow pouring out the fabric. "I... I can take it out," he said.
Havve's hands hovered in the air.
"Let him get it off your back, first."
Sung nodded. He reached behind himself, pulled his shirt up himself, exposing it to Havve. Havve, for once, didn't seem to hold a grudge and simply plucked the tape off Sung's skin and the wire until he reached his front. Then he stepped away, seeming intent on leaving completely.
"Where are you going?" Sung asked.
Havve stared.
All Sung could hear was the hum of the fluorescent lights.
"You said you could take it out," Meouch said after he'd heard it from Havve.
Sung frowned. "Well, I changed my mind."
Havve shook his head, and plodded back. Meouch smirked, Phobos nodded.
"What?" Sung asked.
"He says you're as fickle as the day y'all met." Meouch's smile wavered for a moment, and he straightened. "Well, he didn't say 'y'all', but, y'know--"
Havve waved a hand over his shoulder, now standing in front of Sung. He gestured to the bottom of Sung's shirt, waiting for him.
As soon as Sung pulled it up, he was distracted, the flush on his face fading as he looked at his core for what felt like the first time.
The wire snaking up to it was flat and wide, the opaque coating of it fading as it got closer to the core. It was hard to tell with all the light coming out just where everything attached, but Havve barely needed to look. It was at the bottom, the plug flat, almost flush to Sung's chest, not even noticeable through the tshirt he'd been wearing. He took his time unplugging it, working in sections it seemed. One edge disconnecting, then the other, and finally the middle. Sung let out a sigh, Havve able to pull out the cord without any discomfort on his part.
Sung put his palm over his core. He seemed to be inspecting it, carefully taping the glass, feeling the edge of it, the divide between metal and skin.
Then he stopped.
Ran his hand down his stomach. Stretched his head back, trying to look at himself, his body. He twisted, and turned, inspecting his form now.
"...Sung?" Meouch asked.
"I grow up to look like this, huh," Sung mumbled, a pride clear in his voice.
"Yeah," Meouch mumbled, folding his arms and looking at the ceiling. "Anyway, we--"
"Anyways," Sung interrupted, letting his shirt fall and dusting off his hands, "I should contact my parents."
"Why?" Meouch demanded more than asked. Sung didn't seem fazed.
"Well, I might have sent them a more recent backup."
"I doubt it," Meouch said. "We should--"
"--And I suppose they'd want to know I've been reset."
"That'll just worry them," Meouch spat out before he could listen to the other's panicked protests. "You're a long way away from them," he continued, "so by the time they'll hear from you, we'll probably have you right as rain anyway, so you'll have gotten them worried about nothing!"
"Rain..?" Sung mumbled, then deciding to drop it. He mulled it over for a moment. "Still..."
"Besides, this isn't the kind of thing you'd usually update them on right away, you’ve got more important things to tell them." Meouch hoped that was enough to kill this topic, that he still knew Sung well enough to know he'd get too excited at the idea of an adventurous and action packed life to keep pressing this.
Sung looked at all of them. At Phobos and Havve nodding sagely, wisely, like this was just a normal day for them.
"Alright," Sung said eventually. "I may not know you, but you are my crew, so I trust you all with this." He smiled. Warm, charming. "Since my Commander says so, I'll listen."