Work Text:
If the outsiders reached the surface... Zbaltazar wanted his own tent.
...Not a house, not a dwelling on the riverside, or a shack sandwiched between old cracked bricks. He wanted a dark red tent, tall-standing, with curtains draped about its interior that swayed with the earth's breeze, a constant reminder of how far he'd come.
Among nature, above ground, one with the elements- at peace. As it should be.
Zbaltazar did not want floors in his tent. It would be placed over a patch of long greenery, with vibrant wildflowers that he could watch grow and rocks he could arrange his belongings on. He wanted a place with fresh grass to sit in, run his fingers through, pluck to his core's content, and tie into needless bracelets or strings with which he could decorate his home.
If he could, he would adore a spot with a small stream that would drift and trickle through his living space, so he could listen to the soft ripples and plops of running water and bear witness to the organic life that the current carried through his abode.
Maybe he'd section off a part of that stream and raise a settlement of tadpoles. When they grew, would they stay? Hop on his metals with their tiny webbed feet? Leave a trail of wet footprints behind? Would they see him as their caretaker, Or would they move off into the world to start a territory of their own?
His tent would have hanging lights of a golden yellow shine, but the top of the fabric would be clear, so at night, hours before his rest cycle, Zbaltazar could lay himself down in his patch of nature and search the star-speckled sky for indications of foreign life.
Was there a colony within those stars?
A massive ship, full of personalities and heartbeats, glimpsing down on them from their almighty nest, one with the universe?
Would Zbaltazar get the chance to meet such fascinating lifeforms? Would they be organic or metallic, like him? Made of energy or the elements? Would he be able to see them, or would their biological makeup be so diverse, unthinkable, that his sensors couldn't detect their body? Would they-
Clang!
...what? ....was? ....that?
Too far gone in his meditative state, Zbaltazar struggled to drag his consciousness back to its physical awareness.
Skkkkkkrrr
Zblatazars screens blinked online at the ungodly screech of metal. He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but it wasn't an ugly mound of scrap metal with a sure-of-himself-looking Balladin at its side.
...Why was there a pile of debris in his meditation zone?
"What... on earth are you doing, my friend?" Zar asked, voice husky from underuse. His many screens lingered over the stained slabs cluttering his open-concept living space. "Why is there rubbish in my place of Zen?"
"Hear me out, Balt." Baladin began urgently as he set down a long cherry-colored plank atop the others. He drew out a wheel from behind his back, it was corroded, and the tire was popped, but that didnt stop the Antvillage guard from wagging it at him.
"Im building you a wagon," Baladin stated, in a tone that implied there would be no swaying him of his self-decided task.
"...a wagon?" Zbaltazar mused, his screens scanning the heap of once-thought garbage, in a new light.
"Yes. A wagon. As much as id love to carry you on my back when the outsiders open the city, it-."
"If."
"When," Baladin replied sternly. "When the outsiders open the city, it will allow me better movement and you more comfort."
Zbaltazar stilled, looking over the pathetic mass before him, but he could find no reason to decline the companions' desires. "Thank you, but... do you have to build it here?"
Baladins reply was immediate. "Absolutely. I've never built one of these before. I need the feedback."
There was no rejecting that tone; the seated, paralyzed companion already had difficulty denying anything this robot did. Baladin had taken such good care of him, and if he decided he would make him this... wagon, then...
"I will offer you the best feedback I have. Would this help?"
Zbaltazars screens offlined as he searched the remnants of the network, broken pieces of humanity's many languages, all of which he wished to one day learn, even if none were alive to understand.
Maybe he could teach future generations and bring back the forgotten tongues of his ancestors...
It wasn't hard to find photos of wagons, but finding one he deemed fit enough to carry him was challenging.
In the end, he settled with one that would be less stressful on his work-driven friend, and he pulled it up on each of his fifteen screens.
Baladin rested his frame on his knuckles while he inspected the photo Zbaltazar supplied. There was careful thought and regard in his pale white expression.
"That... Works. Maybe some pillows and a break bar. Could even put a lil' engine in it, with a wheel so you could drive it yourself... And also... Some kind of tarp, in case it... What's it called, the thing you said the sky sometimes does?"
"Rains." Zar hummed, happy to elaborate. "The sky rains. It storms, it snows..."
"Yeah... That."
"I will be satisfied with whatever you do for me, Baladin. You know I will."
For a time, Baladin didnt speak, and the Outsider merely observed his friend's form as he organized the scavenged scraps into bundles.
While he worked. Baladins screen flickered between emotions. He was focused, yet lost, driven but sedated. Held up with a passion, a passion he kept hidden. Thoughtful, such a kind companion, Honest and continually searching for ways to make Zbaltazar more comfortable, always putting the Outsiders needs before his own.
The paralyzed mech was glad he met him- They were a once-in-a-lifetime companion, and Zar valued his friendship, company, and time.
He also valued the little moments the two shared, where the guard would hold his petite frame as if he were the most treasured thing he'd ever had. The soft reassurances spoken in the dead of night, words Zbaltazar had secretly recorded and played back whenever he was alone and lost in his more destructive thoughts...
Baladin dropped a wheel into the pile and huffed, seemingly frustrated with his thoughts. Zbaltazar beeped curiously at his friend's sudden change.
"I just want a way for you to get around, you know?" He confessed, almost as if Baladin was the one who couldn't walk and held resentment against it. "I hate the thought of you..."
"Stagnant?" Zbaltazar provided evenly.
Baladins screen glitched momentarily, but he quickly recovered. "Uh...yeah?"
"How could I be stagnant when my mind shifts like the wind?"
"...The wind?"
"The wind," Zar confirmed, still halfway in his meditation zone, if the whispy tone he spoke wasn't enough to go by.
"Rustling the trees in fall... a breeze that tugs dying leaves from its roost and brings them to far-off places. Perhaps a mountain... Maybe a cave, there's no way to tell where it will end up, and still, the current carries it... Away, away... As you will carry me... but in a wagon. You truly care for me, dont you, my friend? Are you my breeze? Am I your dead leaf? Will you carry me to the boundaries of earth's limitations, even though I am already crumbling?"
Baladin simply stared at him, the seconds drew on, and the other, light-screened companion appeared misplaced. Zbaltazar mentally frowned, Had what he said really impacted his friend that much?
Zbaltazar sometimes forgot that most people don't think like him.
Finally, Baladin spoke. "...Among other things..." He trailed off, Setting down a handlebar, abandoning his scrap pile to approach the seated companion. It seemed he was full of wonders today, as Zbaltazar wasn't expecting the guard to hit a knee in front of him, yet he did.
"Forgive me if this is... Brash, but... May I...?"
What on earth is this mech tal-
Those delicate hands cupped the bottom edges of his screen and tilted his lifeless monitor upwards. Zar's pale red mesh flickered, and he struggled to display his black, slash-eyed expression.
Now just what was Baladin doing, handling him like this out of the blue?
Zbaltazar, ever the curious soul, let out a low, nudging hum. He knew the guard was incredibly soft on the inside, but Zbaltazar always had to ask for the other's attention first. What prompted Baladin to be the one to come to him?
"Sometimes, you say the weirdest things, things that leave me dumbfounded," Baladin said. That careful touch veered to brush a thumb across the bottom corner of his screen. It drew out a tingle of emotion- emotion Zbaltazar hadn't felt in ages.
Oh?
"-And every time I hear them, All I can think about is... Just..." He didnt elaborate with his words, but rather with actions.
Baladin tipped foreword and grazed his screen against his, it was a tender nuzzle, temperate and meaningful, and for a time, Zbalatazar sat, his processor failing him.
...Was he?
Baladin pressed closer, triggering a shock that traveled through his network, destined for his core.
...Oh!
He was.
Zbaltazars cooling fans kicked on entirely out of his control, thrumming noisily.
The feeling that sprouted from his core was abrupt- but not new. He felt the same thing every time Baladin crossed his processor. Admiration, protectiveness, respect, and... love. It was how he felt for all of his friends, but this touch, this kiss. It was something Zbaltazar hadn't experienced for himself. It was his first, and it was...
"I can hear you thinking, Balt..." Came Baladins tender voice, a tone Zbaltazar was unaccustomed to hearing from him; it encouraged him to listen, and listen he did.
The guard stalled in his nuzzling with a teasing, charming trill.
"Let your thoughts rest, Would you?" He whispered. "But answer me this first..." Baladins eyes locked into his, expression hazy and blurred with soft white glitches. "Would you like me to stop?"
"No."
Zbaltazars hands struck out, utterly deprived and hungrily snagging Baladin's waistline. He yanked the companion into his lap and immedetly dug his digits into the seams of his hips.
It was unexpected but not unwelcome, and it lit a fire of desire in his network, setting his thoughts ablaze.
Always here, always visiting...
In his life, Zbalatazar had never answered a question so quickly or confidently - Then again, he had never felt such fevered passion.
Holding me when I'm broken, reassuring me when my motivation fails...
Zar kissed him back with a warbled whine, dragging his screen across the others net, nestling the top of his frame against Baladins glass.
Asking how I am, sedating the desolate silence with his midnight drawl...
All too eagerly, Baladin hooked his legs around Zbaltazars waist and clutched him as close as possible, hands tangling with the cords strung across his back, dancing over the elastic casings like he'd been waiting since his creation to handle them this way.
Zbaltazar didnt realize how badly he wanted this until it was here... pressed into his front, humming beautifully low noises with that husky voice, making his inner wiring spark and fritz.
Pretending to be contained and controlled, yet once alone-
Zbaltazars hands slid up- up, up under that dusty shall, to the metal of Baladins front. Oh, how he wished he could feel the burning warmth of this robot's body so close to his.
Baladin whimpered at the contact, and Zbaltazars network sang.
"How long have you been hiding this from me, Baladin?" Zbaltazar rumbled in a tease, surprised with himself for having not seen it sooner.
Baladin did seem to pine after him; maybe the broken companion saw nothing in his material person worthy of such attention. He was paralyzed, an airhead, lost in his thoughts and memories, covered in scars and rust.
Baladin was a free soul, yet he chose to stay. He chose to return day after day and provided him with the attention Zbaltazar longed for without a single complaint.
The guard pulled back, much too soon for Zbaltazars preference, only to be replaced by a core-warming hug. Baladin cupped the back of his screen, pressed Zbaltazars monitor into his chest, and spoke in a low half-dazed rumble.
"When your friend... Clementine? When she brought you here, and I saw you- Do you remember when she brought you back?"
Baltazar found that particular time frame... hazy. "I... Not well."
"I didnt think you would." That embrace tightened a fraction, and the seated companion knew he was about to be hit with something emotional.
So Zbaltazar, in turn, strengthened his hold, shifting his hands from the guard's front to his back, clutching the mechs shall in a tight fist to hopefully give his friend- his precious friend, reassurance. Reassurance Baladin had given him time and time again.
Zbaltazar may also need it, but he knew the red and white companion on his lap this time, would supply that consolation.
"You looked... Dead. And I thought you were; you didnt move, not an inch, hanging in her arms... She was begging me to help you, I had no... experience, and you were so small, are, so small." Baladins servos began a slow, self-soothing pets against the back of Zbaltazars monitor, a motion he tilted affectionately into.
"Then your screen lit up, and how you looked at me... It gave me all the confidence I needed. You were alive; you were a mess, but you were alive. I fixed you up as best I could- I sealed the marks. You were conscious. You yelled, cried, and begged me not to let you die... and that's... When it started."
Baladin paused, letting his thoughts clear, and Zbaltazar understood. Hearing it from an outside perspective, a time of which he didnt remember himself, was haunting. He really had been close, hadn't he? Inches from death, in the arms of one of his dearest friends?
He wondered how Clementine had stayed so emotionally strong in the face of it all, But then again, it was Clementine- She was the strongest companion he knew.
Zbaltazar hummed sympathetically, tugging at Baladins forearm until the mech pulled the hand away from his cords; he interlocked fingers with the companion and squeezed.
Baladin squeezed back, tilting foreword to brush his net against his again; it was less... feverish this time and more delicate. Like the barely-there trace of a cat's whiskers.
"It was... the little stuff after that." Baladin resumed once he found the words. "I... Can't seem to get you off my mind. Every time you hold me like you'll be offlined if you dont, it makes me want to shield you. And I strive for a time where I can watch you move- in a wagon or otherwise."
Zbaltazar had never heard so many words spoken from his usually reserved friend. It touched his core fondly, hearing that voice speak to him- about him, with such devotion.
"Doc will try to fix me." The seated companion said. "But I fear the damage is too extensive to repair, it's not just my spine, it's my processors, it's my metals, it's... I would have to replace everything that I am. And I do not want that."
Baladins hands drew from his cords, and the companion lifted his monitor again with those mismatched arms and a careful touch. "If it helps, I like you the way you are."
Zbaltazar flashed a soft, affectionate smile on his dying screen at the action he could and would love to get used to. "It certainly does. I have come to relish every moment spent with you. Particularly the cuddling. I am fond of the cuddling and the kissing."
Baladin chuckled, deep and genuine. "Are you using me for my A+ cuddling skills, Balt?"
"Absolutely." Zbaltazar mimicked the other confident tone from before, skimming the edge of his monitor against Baladins screen; the guard tilted into the feeling, his cooling fans humming faintly, in tune with Zbaltazars own.
"'Fine by me. But that reminds me." Baladin moved, and on instinct, the smaller mech hugged him closer. "I do have a wagon to build-"
"That was the project you set your mind to this time, wasn't it?" Zar chuckled, regretfully loosening his hold so the bigger companion could slide out of his lap. Baladin stopped, though, for a wink, to press in one last quick, almost shy nuzzle to his screen.
"I will build you the best damn wagon you've ever seen, Balt." Baladin promised as he stood up, placing both hands on his hips like some action movie hero. Zbaltazar liked that look. "And then, we'll go outside, and ill build you whatever kind of house you want. Does that sound like a plan?"
"I couldn't dream a better plan than that," Zbaltazar divulged, lost in the lingering feelings he wanted to one day feel more of. Sooner, rather than later, would be preferable.
"Im sure you could." His friend encouraged, turning with a suggestive sway that lured Zbaltazars' many eyes to his backside. It seemed the wagon wasn't the only thing the paralyzed mech saw in a new light.
"That mind of yours is an enigma." Baladin complimented.
"... you're an enigma." Zbaltazar hummed faintly, letting his screens fade to that black, twinkling night sky, watching the companion resume his task.
Zbaltazar found he didnt mind the racket, the occasional grunts and mutters, as he supervised Baladins head first dive into his project. The building of his new mobile throne, handcrafted just for him and only him.
For the first time, the red and black companion could drift off into his thoughts with the clamorous noise as his background music- He thought about the sun, the moon, and what it would be like to see for the first time in person.
Zbaltazars thoughts strayed as he thought of Baladin, bearing witness to what earth had to offer once the city opened. He wondered how the companion would react and how he would fair in that vast, unknown world.
And he wondered, almost dreamily, if when that day came- Baladin would join him in his open-concept tent and help him raise those tadpoles-- as his partner, as his lover, and his friend.
Then, and only then, would he truly be at peace.
Thank you to the amazing Hydra for
this beautiful art worthy of being this fics cover.
<3 You truly surprise me every time <3