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It was strange, seeing Hatchworth looking so different. His original chassis, without the various fixings to keep him from polluting the area around him, was almost skeletal-- but now, he reminded The Spine of some of the kind older men he'd encountered at shows: somewhat round but not in an unflattering way, with generous facial hair that complimented their face nicely rather than detracted from it. They radiated warmth and always made The Spine feel comfortable.
Hatchworth's personality fit that of one of those men, his chassis had just never matched it. So The Spine felt that his brother had, upon being stabilized by Peter VI, been-- completed, in a way. And he liked that. He liked that a lot. Because he loved Hatchworth, wanted the best for him, had missed him very much. With the painful experience that had been The Jon's departure, he and Rabbit had both been left feeling raw...and Hatchworth helped fill in that gap. Helped to soothe the jagged edges of that hole in their metaphorical hearts.
He'd offered to take his siblings to the park about a week after the bronze automaton was allowed out of the vault. Rabbit was still sulking, happy to see that Hatchworth was content again but still mourning the loss of her good friend, so she declined the invite. Hatchworth was a little upset by her not wanting to join them but he understood, heading out to Balboa Park with his older brother.
Balboa Park was considerably different from what he remembered. He held onto The Spine's arm as they walked on through, the titanium automaton waving to a few people who recognized him.
Once they reached an empty bench with a good view of the park, The Spine led Hatchworth to sit on it, so they could talk.
Hatchworth was being quiet, of course-- he was still so pensive, poor thing. So The Spine started them up, "It's-- really, really good to have you back, Hatchy-boy."
The bronze 'bot smiled with one corner of his mouth. "Thank you, The Spine. It's definitely good to be back."
"Rabbit missed you a lot," he said. "We both did. It'd been way too long."
"Rabbit misses The Jon, too," Hatchworth said after a brief pause. "She's very sad these days."
The Spine pursed his silicon lips and looked down, nodding once, elbows rested on his upper thighs with his forearms creating a lazy 'X' down to the knees. "A lot of things have happened to her. Not just recently. It piles up and she tries to hide it all but it's impossible."
"She's very strong," observed Hatchworth. The Spine nodded again, and they lapsed into another silence, both 'bots unsure of how to get a conversation flowing.
"So Peter says he-- upgraded you with music capabilities," The Spine said eventually. "The...bass and guitar, right?"
"Yes," Hatchworth answered. "I am to play in your band."
"Well, it's our band now, Hatchy."
"--Yes. Our band."
"And you're going to be a great part of it," The Spine assured him, nudging him gently with an elbow. "The fans will love you."
"What if they don't?"
The titanium 'bot looked up then, a small puff of steam hissing from his vents. Hatchworth seemed more worried now, a tinge uncomfortable, his hands clasped in his lap and his head ducked a bit. Overall, he appeared extremely nervous-- and The Spine felt incredibly stupid in that moment, because how had he not noticed this before?
He scooted closer to his brother, their knees ghosting over each other a bit, and he rested one of his larger hands over Hatchworth's two. They were vibrating. "They're going to adore you, buckaroo. I promise."
"How c-c-can you know?" He asked, in a small voice.
"Because I just can." He knew it was a weak argument, but it was all he had. "I know in my - albeit, metaphorical - heart that they're gonna love you. You're funny, kind-- and, honestly, pretty dang adorable. Kids love that stuff."
"What if I mess up or I short-circuit or--"
"Hatchy," The Spine insisted, squeezing those hands. "We've all had our little flubs on stage. It happens. If anything goes wrong - which it probably won't but still - Rabbit and I will be there to help. We know how to play things off as if they were supposed to happen, the audience will laugh and we'll move on. Plus, most of the audiences love it when we mess up. It makes the show more entertaining for them."
"You're-- making a lot of sense, I suppose," Hatchworth mumbled, tipping his head up to look at The Spine, bright blue optics looking even shinier behind those thick glasses. "I just can't shake the fear."
"Once you get up there," The Spine told him, "it'll all melt away. You'll feel more alive than any robot's ever felt before. Trust me, I know."
Hatchworth was still, quiet, for a moment, before he offered a tentative smile. "With you and Rabbit up there with me, I know I can't fail." The Spine smiled back, patting Hatchworth's hat with his free hand.
"Yup, that's right, Hatchy-boy. We're unstoppable."
"Unstoppable!" The bronze bot suddenly jumped off of the bench and did a little dance, spinning and waving his arms excitedly. It was very uncoordinated, but clearly Hatchworth's way of releasing all of the pent-up nervous energy. He couldn't help but laugh as he watched his younger brother strike a silly pose, at which point he stood up himself and caught one of those fast-moving hands.
"Here. Let's go back to the Manor. I think Rabbit would love to see just how enthusiastic you are about next week's show."
"Yes! Let's make her smile!" Hatchworth agreed, tugging on The Spine's hand, attempting to tug him along. The titanium automaton let him, smiling pleasantly, glad that he'd been able to help Hatchworth get over his fear.
Get ready out there-- because you're all about to be exposed to some Hatch Fever.