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Sometimes The Spine liked being a robot. Not having to worry about things like food, or pooping. But when it came to talking with humans, he often found himself wanting.
The whir of his core wasn't the same as a heartbeat, and his skin was hard and ungiving. He was just a machine, not a person. But he felt like he was more than that. Not that everyone seemed to understand.
Just a machine, a musical animatronic. That’s all he did was play off a program. Never mind Spine had written his own songs for years! Songs about love and the heartache of not being loved in return. He was more than just a machine, wasn't he?
Some days it was hard to feel it was true when even the Walter Workers spent more time talking about his blueprints than his feelings on the matter. Damaged servos in his arm may not have hurt like a broken arm to a human, but he still couldn't move it. If one of the humans hadn't been able to bend an arm, they would have been concerned about them, not just complaining about having to order parts. Spine was the one that had to wait without the use of an arm for a week! Humans got sympathy, he felt forgotten.
Sulking, he made his way through the manor and out onto the grounds. Spine needed a break from, well, everyone. Through the gardens, he avoided the graveyard and the pond. Rabbit might be there and he didn't need her brand of cheering up. He was pretty sure there was still glitter in his gears.
Sitting on a covered bench crawling with ivy, he puffed a heavy cloud of steam. It was only a week, he could manage. He’d had to wait for parts before. At least he could stay powered on for this. Even if there was little for him to do. But being talked over still bothered him. But what could he do? He was just a machine.
While he sulked, Rabbit noticed first he was gone. Mostly because she wanted to tell him about the man in a trench coat dream, again. Wandering the manor to try and find him, she overheard Walter Workers complaining about the extra work they had to do to order special parts for The Spine, and how complex his blueprints were. She knew then where her brother was.
He was still sulking under ivy when she found him, and she puffed a worried cloud of steam. "H-hey der, S-Spine-o!" She chirped and sat next to him without asking, old gears whining in protest.
A large cloud of steam poured from his cheek vents as he flustered, and Spine quickly turned away. In vain, he tried to discreetly scrub the oil from his eyes. "What do you want, Rabbit?" He snapped, feeling a little guilty when she shrunk back. But now wasn’t the time for her shenanigans.
"I heard what d-dey were sa-sayin'. You-you know dey don't mean nofin' by it, right?"
Leaning back a little, Spine looked up at the sky. "I know, Rabbit. That's the problem. I'm nothin'. Just a machine with parts they don't want to mess with."
There was a soft clang when she punched his arm. "Hey!" He yelped, rubbing where she hit. He couldn't move it, but he could still feel it. "I have pain sensors, remember?"
"Yer not just a machine! None of us are," she scolded him. "Ye-yeah, we're diff-different, but that do-don't don't make us less."
"But they think that way, don't they?" He shot back. Just hunks of metal to look after.
"They don't all think like that, Spine. You know that. Besides, who cares what they think? It don't change-change nofin'! You're still Da Spine! With cool gadgets to topple governments and the like."
There was a small steam cloud while he huffed a little laugh. "No Rabbit," he corrected.
"But you still like pie, right?" She asked with a cheeky grin. That was better!
"Rabbit, robots can't eat."
She giggled. "But we can do some pretty cool stuff! And lots of people know dat, and they like you plenty!"
The Spine was quiet a moment, but he smiled. "Thanks, Rabbit. I needed that. I guess we're pretty cool, aren't we?"
"The coolest!" She agreed with a laugh.