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You lay sickly in your dormitory, a puke bucket at the foot of your bed. While the other Talon members celebrate their most recent victory, you lay sick in bed. Alone.
You had worked for Talon for all these years, and not a single one of your coworkers had come to see if you were alright.
You sigh to yourself, your head pounds even harder, the feeling of needles pang in your brain like no tomorrow.
“This room isn’t dark enough.” You think to yourself. Your eyes dart to the lazily closed curtains in your room. “Maybe if I adjust the curtains…”
You begrudgingly crawl out of the bed, the blanket lays wrapped around your shoulders like a cape. You crash into your nightstand, your water cup spilling what little water droplets had remained. You pull the curtains closed with what little strength you had left, but no matter how much you pulled and yanked those curtains, it still was not dark enough.
“Still too bright…” You thought to yourself before your eyes fell upon the bright hallway light spilling into the room from the door. RIght then and there you set out on your next mission: turning off the hallway light.
With the goal of darkness in mind, you groggily tread to the door, basically falling against it. As you swing open the door, you slide off of it and land right onto the ground. Now your face hurts just as much as your brain does. The bright hallway did nothing to aid your pain splitting migraines. You lay helplessly on the floor, coughing and with no more strength to stand up on your own. Squinting along the walls, you try to make out where the light switch is.
Your vision starts to blur, leaving you even more helpless on the ground. All you could do is cough and groan out in pain, slowly feeling fatigue kick in. You were going to pass out on the
hallway floor.
The next part felt like such a blur. You could have sworn you were about to pass out on the ground, but you felt yourself moving, as if you had just been picked up off the ground. Whoever it was holding you right now was strong. It felt as if it took no effort on their part. You barely had enough strength to stay awake, let alone look at whoever was carrying you. Whoever it was, you hoped it wasn’t Moira attempting to experiment on you again. You could do nothing but leave your fate into their hands. You curl up into a ball in their hands, squinting your eyes closed.
“Humans… always so… pitiful…” You recognized that voice. It was Ramattra, the new recruit. “Do you always need such babying?”
He placed you back down in bed, fixing your blanket and tucking you in. He wipes the hair out of your face before getting up to fix the curtains, and then cleaning the spilled water.
“Stay in bed.” He commands. “You’ve made enough of a mess already.” His voice, although quite loud and powerful, soothes you in the weirdest way. Maybe you were imagining things, because you were sick, or maybe it was because you always thought he was kind of sweet, in his own way.
You roll over to your side, facing him. You melt into the blanket and with a faint groan and grumble, you cough out the only word you could really think of right now. “Why?”
You really did wonder why he was here, why he was taking care of you. He was cold, especially towards humans, so naturally you thought he hated you.
He sat there looking back at you as if trying to come up with an answer, and now that you’re able to get a nice look at him, you had never noticed how soft his features were before. Was his face always this soft? You thought his face was more ragged and roughed up metal. Were you seeing things wrong?
There was only one way your sick, sleepy brain could think of to answer your thoughts. You reach out your hand, resting it along his cheek. It was soft and smooth. You trace over his features, lazily looking at him.
“Your face,” You yawn, “It’s soft.”
Ramattra takes your hand and gently moves it to your side. “Sleep.” His volume lowers, “You need rest.”
“I thought you didn’t like humans.” You cough a little more.
“I don’t.” He says, caressing your cheek. You melt into his touch. “But… maybe there is one exception.”
“Oh?” You can’t help but smile, burying your face into his hand. “They must be pretty special.”
“They are,” He chuckles, “But they need to get some sleep so they can get better.”
“Hmm.” Your eyes feel heavier the longer he strokes your cheek. You feel yourself slowly slipping into a nice slumber. “Stay with me?”
“If I must.”
“Thank you.”
You finally pass out, dozing off into wonderful dreams about you and your newfound crush on the omnic that helped you.
This may be the start of something beautiful.