Chapter Text
In retrospect, it wasn't so big of a deal. None of it was.
He's had his fair share of unruly customers on the daily, after all. While nitpicking behaviors wasn't unusual for him, acting out the way he did was, very quite so. Losing it like that never happened to a gentlemanly robot such as himself.
Barley sat properly in his seat, awaiting the consequence for him to be decided and carried out. A reboot, probably. He wouldn't put it past them. Clearly, there was a glitch or his repressed code of the past coming to the surface again.
It was in Starr Park's best interest to make sure any stray ends were snipped off. Barley had destroyed his own bar on an off day, when there were only Brawlers around, but if it had been during open hours? Those folks couldn't heal themselves. Word would get out, and Starr Park would be impacted all because he went haywire suddenly. He... wouldn't blame them for taking that route either.
So, the robot continued to wait with resigned thoughts and idle fidgets. He straightened out his bowtie, adjusted his hat, and smoothed out his clothes.
...He would miss everyone. The stories he held in his databanks about the Brawlers' woes and triumphs alike. The time he's spent with Park inhabitants that he'd call his friends. He fully regretted that it turned like this. Once everything was over with, would anyone even go out of their way to interact with him again? Considering how bad the note this ended on was... He wondered how lonely it would feel to start anew with several unresolved bad terms.
Even Ms. Piper was upset at him, and he couldn't imagine how he'd be able to make amends without even knowing that he had to do so in the first place.
Luckily for Barley, his misery-wallowing wouldn't last long. Byron stepped out of the room just a few minutes later. The salesman looked over the robot, noting the blue eye when Barley looked up at him expectantly.
This whole ordeal was a mess. He could string together a sentence of pretty words to avoid a terrible outcome, but any genuine comfort for anyone, even Barley, was difficult. Byron glanced aside with a frown. "Come," he said with a gesture before beginning to walk down the hall of Starr Park's Main Office.
Barley stood. He glanced at the door curiously, before going to catch up with Byron at the end of the hall, waiting for the elevator shaft to get to their floor.
"So, the verdict is...?" Barley asked as the elevator doors opened.
"We're heading over to Pam's right now." Byron told him as they entered.
Ah. To be rebooted after all. "I see..." Barley said with a solemn nod. "It's been a pleasure working with you."
"It isn't to wipe your mind." Byron said. An amused grin touched his lips, but it was dampened by how close the grim possibility had been. "It's for maintenance. I was able to make an argument for you, and your track record backed my points up splendidly."
"Oh," It was a pleasant surprise, but other doubts arose in Barley's mind. Is a check up really all he needed? He had never felt that way before, and he loathed to think if it had been a different day or if it could happen again. Even worse, how he felt that it had happened... "I appreciate it whole-heartedly, Sir," he said instead.
"Of course." Byron said proudly.
The elevator dinged and its doors slid open. Bea and Rosa's laughs and talks waned when they noticed the bot and man inside. "Hey," Rosa brought her hand up with a grin, stepping aside to let the two pass by. Bea giggled in light embarrassment.
"Good afternoon," Barley returned as they passed the women. Byron nodded as his greeting, then Rosa and Bea took their place in the elevator as Byron and Barley made to exit the building. As two-thirds of the Townsfolk Trio left the Building, Barley couldn't help but glance back once more. What a dodged bullet...
Idle chatter exchanged between them passed the time it took to get to their destination, but it was clear Barley's mind was elsewhere. Once they got to the Garage, Byron tapped on the door, and Pam's voice rang out from the other side. "It's open, come on in!"
Byron opened and stepped into the house. "Greetings, Pam." He said, "Are you terribly busy at the moment?"
"Nope," she answered candidly from where she lounged on the couch, looking very comfortable. The remote was in one her hands, and she switched off the television, which was some commercial anyway. Jessie was sitting on the ground at the coffee table working on a blueprint. She looked up and felt wary already at one of the guests...
Barley noted the discomfort right away, thanks to his sensors.
"Hmm," Pam hummed flatly upon noticing Barley too. She glanced at Jessie, and her friendly demeanor soured when she looked back. "Oh yeah, I heard." She began. Barley felt fret. Where to even begin apologizing?... "Jessie, why don't you go out to the Park?" Pam said before the robot can get a word out.
The redhead girl nodded and stood up from where she sat. She rolled up the blueprint she was busy with, and considered putting it away in her room before deciding to just leave with it. "Buh-bye, Mom!" She said quickly, leaving the opposite way to go through the back door of the house instead of running past Barley and Byron. Barley sighed softly, feeling terrible.
"..So, What am I gonna deal with today?" Pam asked, raising to stand. "A reboot, mind wipe, uh... or a complete decons...?" Pam trailed off. Even if she was upset, deconstruction was... very much permanent.
"None of that is necessary," Byron shook his head. "They ruled a mere checkup."
"A checkup?" Pam echoed. She was skeptical. "That's all?"
"Why, yes." Byron said. "There must be something wrong with our dear Bartender. You know as well as I do that it was completely out of character for him. Have you ever known Barley to ever start unauthorized Brawls?"
"You got a point there." Pam crossed her arms. "Okay, fine. A simple checkup on you, Barley. That's all."
"Thank you," Barley said humbly.
"Alright. That's settled." Byron thumbed the silvery top of his cane for a few seconds. "...I'll return in an hour. That should be enough time for a check-up, I assume?"
"That's right." Pam said. "Don't you worry, I'm not gonna go behind anyone's back or nothin'."
"Oh, I'm not worried." Byron said off-handedly. He glanced at Barley. "An hour." He repeated. "I won't be late."
"I trust you won't be, Sir." Barley nodded. Byron turned to leave. He shut the door and then it was just Pam and Barley.
"C'mon, let's go." Pam gestured. She began to head to the workshop, and Barley fell into step beside her.
"Is Nani not present today?" He wondered.
"Nope, she's also out and about." Pam answered. "She said she was meeting up with somebody, at the Rootin' Tootin' Show, I think. She left a while before you two got here."
"I see," Barley nodded. "It was quite the event." He commented. They walked down the steps.
Barley sat atop the table, the common procedure. Pam powered down the robot to get started.
One may be inclined to believe that a desert landscape would be dreadful for a view, but Piper happened to think it was spectacular.
The clear blue skies in contrast to the sandy dunes and cliffs. the waves of heat that drifted in at times into her healthy, green yard. It hardly rained in this area, so the grass and blooming flowers were all her doing. It was therapeutic in a way. A blend of stunning environments seldom seen together, all because of her efforts and nobody else's.
Piper sipped on her teacup, closing her eyes to feel the steam of the drink rise to the bridge of her nose and forehead. It was Chamomile. A soothing tea. Heaven knows she needed it.
She had actually gotten this from Rosa, who was absolutely delightful with her knowledge in plants and herbs, and had an impressive greenhouse that could make someone green with envy.
The blonde's eyes opened and she put her drink down. Birds chirped prettily around her. The scenery was perfect, but she had a frown on her face. Hmm.
"There you are."
Piper looked to Byron, who stood outside her white fence, right next to the gate. "Where else would I be?" She asked lightly, "Barley's?" Venom.
"Only if you're keen on sitting in rubble, and not having a server around." Byron replied.
"...Come on in," Piper invited as she stood. "Have a seat. I'll prepare another cup."
He unlocked the gate and entered the garden as Piper stepped inside. Byron sat calmly, leaned back even. His mind was a torrent in revising the points he would be sure to make to Piper.
"Here we are," Piper shut her door, and walked across the stepping stones in her yard. She set the plate and cup in front of Byron, and a spoon atop a cloth napkin beside that. She then picked up the tea pot and began to fill the cup. It was done silently. Piper took her seat across from Byron.
"Thank you."
"Not a problem, I assure you. Would you like honey, or sugarcane?"
Byron picked up the spoon, and slid the container of honey towards himself. "From Bea?" He asked.
"The only dependable supplier from these parts. Raw honey is leagues better than manufactured." Piper said. "So she insists. I agree, of course, but I could never match her level of... enthusiasm."
Byron smiled softly as he scooped a spoonful out of the container and into his drink. Just the one, he decided, beginning to stir.
"...So, your exact words were 'there you are.' Why venture to look for me, Sugar?" Piper asked.
No beating around the bush. Just as well. "I was compelled to after I heard of that dreadful incident." Byron said. "Naturally, the well-being of my coworkers is a strong factor in our section running smoothly."
"I see. You were spot on with that train of thought. As you can see, I'm just peachy. Thank you." Piper dismissed, raising her cup to her lips.
"Perhaps you missed something? The well-being of my coworkers."
"Plural. I noticed." Piper said. "How kind of you to have checked up on Mortis, Shelly, Mike and the other patrons who were present. Tell me, how do they fare?"
Byron chuckled, though it was empty. "I couldn't tell you. As far as I recall, they don't work in our Section, my dear."
"More tea?" Piper asked sweetly.
"I'm actually letting it cool." Byron declined.
"That is a good idea." Piper suggested. "Letting things cool down on their own."
"Hmm. A dreadful one, depending on the situation."
Piper paused. "What situation?"
Byron finally rose his cup up. "One that I fear I won't be able to stop." He shot a glance at Piper over the top of the rim. Her face had obvious hints of surprise, of sorrow and none of her bitterness. "W...when?" She asked quietly. Vulnerability.
"It's happening right now," Byron remarked carelessly, closing his eyes and drinking.
She recognized that tone, and that look was gone. "Fibber." She scoffed and looked to the landscape. "..."
The blend was amazing, but it'd be rude to finish it in one go. Byron put the cup down. "Not entirely." He defended himself. "The possibility was there. Of course, I'm never late, but let's say I chose not to intervene as you did?"
"Why the hypothetical?" Piper questioned, refusing to look at him. "This goes beyond your logical mindset of letting our section run smoothly, doesn't it?"
"If I didn't intervene, what would have become of Barley?" Byron repeated.
"You weren't there, so you would have no reason to stay out of it."
"If I were unable to, then. What would have happened, Piper?" Icy looks were exchanged for an undetermined amount of time.
"So, if I'm not mistaken by your implications," Piper spoke first. "How I feel matters only a grain compared to the might-have-been consequences of his behavior."
"You are mistaken." Byron said shortly. "I see you both as equally essential coworkers, which is why I took it upon myself to attend to him, and then you."
Piper was not impressed. "Go on."
Byron mulled over words for a few short seconds. "...I'm absolutely certain being attacked is disquieting, but the fact of the matter is we both have never seen our colleague act that way."
Piper slowly gave a single nod. She saw his angle now, though she still wanted to drag her heels. "Ignoring what happened won't solve anything either." she pointed out.
Byron placed his arm on the table, and rested his chin on his hand. Piper's interest piqued at the display. She tilted her head. "There's something else on your mind."
"..." The salesman was reluctant. This was one of the points he had wanted to bring up, but he had already known it would be difficult to share. He's experienced firsthand how being dismissive of certain signs could end up terribly. But Piper doesn't have to know the details. He leaned back again. "You'll just have to take my word for it. It'd be in a poor fool's taste to turn a blind eye to the bigger picture."
Piper blinked slowly. Then, she smiled. "I believe I've had my fair share here. Help yourself, and pardon me, Darling." She excused herself from the table, and picked up her own used dishes.
Byron frowned all the while. These types of things were near impossible for him. Out of everyone, he thought that she'd understand without him having to spell it out for her. But, no. She stepped and disappeared into the house without a final glance back.
The salesman let out a scoff, and drummed his fingers on the table. How... infuriating! He brought the cup up, and finished the rest. You know what? He'd take her up on her oh-so-generous offer. He grabbed the teapot and poured himself another cup, full to the brim. It was delicious, after all, and he still had time to kill. He hoped she was watching him take his time.
Light returned to him, and Barley blinked a few times before sitting up. holding his head. It was quite disorienting being off.
"Hey, I've gotta ask you a few things. Answer honestly." Pam said.
Barley looked up at her. "Oh? Certainly."
Pam stared at him, looking like she was still thinking about the questions. "Day to day, how much do you like working?"
"Oh, I love it," he replied with a smile, "Listening to people, and learning from them. Coming up with solutions when something goes wrong and not having a predictable route to follow. Presenting my hard work to customers who desire a flourish! It's very exciting."
He sounded genuinely excited to share that. Pam hummed. "Okay. Is there anything you don't like?'
"Um... Nothing in particular." Barley shrugged.
"Work with me here, Barley, don't just ignore it." Pam encouraged.
The robot looked up in thought, a hand below his mustache. Anything in particular? He really couldn't pinpoint anything. He thought back to when he destroyed his own bar. He had felt slightly annoyed with Mike and Emz. Nita was completely rude...
Barley looked at Pam, and then down to the floor, trying to group all of these together in one connected group. Individually? There was nothing so out of the ordinary with any of those scenarios. Even Nita, the worst of the bunch that night- like he hasn't dealt with rowdy children before?
Pam waited patiently. "I... can't say, really." he finally admitted with a shake of his head. He had a sudden recollection, and felt appalled. "Right before I attacked, I got upset at El Primo for... for not using a coaster." Barley relayed, feeling horrible. "There was a fire going on and I attacked him." he groaned, burying his face in his hands.
The mechanic had the answer, and called to him softly. "Alright... Barley?"
Barley stalled for a few seconds, before looking up. "...Yes?"
"I looked through you and everything was in order." Pam told him. "No glitches, no crossed wires, nothing."
"So, it's all me." Barley stated.
"Hold it, buddy. Yes, it is, but that isn't a bad thing." Pam said, refraining the urge to add a 'kind of.' That would not help here.
He looked annoyed for a second, but it was gone in a blink. "How so?" he asked.
"A-ha!" Pam snapped and pointed at him. "Just there."
"Pardon?" Barley was taken aback.
"You keep everything to yourself. Every little nitpick you have, you tuck away, don't ya? You coop up things here and there every day you work, and since you're a perfectionist, that's a lot in one day alone. And it all caught up to you, Barley."
Barley blinked. "That.. makes sense..."
"That's called a nervous breakdown," Pam told him. "Completely normal. It's when you have a bunch of stress that adds up. Anyone can go through it, and apparently, robots aren't immune either."
Barley thought about this, and then bombarded Pam with questions. "...So I'll be experiencing this every so often? It's never happened before. Can't you just wipe the attack and that'll stop it all? Or, I can come in on occasion and you can clear my mind of all the nitpicks? Monthly, perhaps, or...?" Pam waved her hands to calm down the bartender,
"No," she said simply. "That could mess you up, plus it'd be endless work. Look, my advice is find some pastimes. Take a page from Nani's book lately, and take more days off for yourself. Explore the Park, there's plenty to do."
"I do." Barley said. "I go on walks. I work in other places than just my bar."
Pam smiled fondly. "I believe ya. Tell you what. Try and find an outlet or add something new, and come back in one month and we'll see how different you feel then. Sound good?"
Barley agreed. "Just as well... My Bar is ruined anyway," he lamented.
"I'm sure they're getting started on rebuilding it already." she assured. She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Let's get upstairs before it's an hour exactly and Byron decides to poison our water supply because you aren't there yet." she joked.
Byron would never, Barley thought but kept to himself. He stood, and they climbed up the steps. Once they walked outside, Byron was there already. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Barley and Byron began to walk off together.
"Remember what I told ya!" Pam called out as she waved behind them.
"I will," Barley held a hand up back. "Thank you!" Pam gave a thumbs-up, and then walked back inside into her home.
"How was it? Were you fixed up properly?" Byron asked when the robot turned back.
"...There was nothing wrong with me physically." Barley informed him. "Pam says that it was... stress."
"Stress?" Byron echoed. "For a robot?"
"I think it makes sense." Barley said lightly, looking aside. "I return in a month for a follow-up."
"If it's important to you, I'll support it." Byron said hastily. He cleared his throat. "I don't like lecturing you, Barley, because we're on good terms, but you should recall that it's mandatory to work somewhere in the Park. Your Bar is down, but that's no excuse." Barley nodded with understanding. Byron continued. "That said, I extend a hand. You may work with me at my Shop, if you'd like."
The service bot considered Byron's words, and then Pam's words. An outlet. Something new. "I appreciate the offer, Sir, but... I'm afraid I'll have to decline it. I'd like to branch out, and possibly find a different temporary post for the time being."
Byron seemed stunned at the refusal, but caught himself quickly. "I understand. Temporary." He said. "I'll leave you to search around on your own then. The sooner, the better, after all."
'I agree." Barley said. "I'm still processing half of what Pam told me too," he chuckled. Byron gave a small smile in response, and departed not long after, turning a corner with a final wave.
Barley sighed, and looked up the blue sky. One month's time. For everyone's sake, he hoped he would improve.