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Uzi keeps as quiet and still as possible until she’s sure the other murder drones are far enough away that they won’t hear her creep out of her hiding spot. She reached down and picked up her railgun, thankful they hadn’t recognized it as a dangerous weapon. Her shoulder throbs from where N stabbed her but she ignores it for now. She needs to find a way to chase after the other two. Despite everything, she didn’t want the drones in her colony to suffer because of her mistake. She didn’t want them to die. She thinks of Thad, how chill and laid back he was with her. How he didn’t care that she was an outcast in their class. Their whole school to be frank. She had to protect him somehow. Her optics inadvertently travel to N’s prone form and she can’t help but pause. She was somewhat shocked he had taken her advice. Asked about the Company. Seemed to start thinking for himself instead of just following orders. Unfortunately the result was getting stabbed in the back by his cohorts. She ignored the pang of sympathy she felt for him, trying to focus on her mission.
“Ah…biscuits.” N’s voice rang out, distorted and echoey. He’d noticed her, “I-I’m sorry. I ruined your card game. Then made you have an awkward moment with your dad…”
Uzi shook her head, refusing to linger on that memory. Turning away she answered,
“And I made you rebel like an angsty teen which got you killed.” As she made her way to the ventilation shaft she added, “Though you also tried to kill me so morality calls this a draw.”
She tried to keep her voice flat and uninterested in N’s plight. She has no idea what the other murder drone did to him but it was kind of frightening to be honest. She pulled a large container under the ventilation’s opening. Hopefully this will give her enough of a boost that she can crawl into it. She climbs up on top with a heavy grunt, her shoulder wound screaming at the exertion. Uzi reaches her good hand up, blatantly ignoring the little voice in her head asking if she’s ok leaving another drone to die, and immediately finds she’s still too damn short. Fuck. She turns back towards N. He…could probably help her. If he wasn’t actively dying. She groans.
“For the record, that was the lamest heel face turn in history.” It wasn’t. She’s seen worse. “Was that supposed to be you switching sides?”
“Being rebellious is a lot harder than it looks.” N managed to say, voice still glitching, “Thanks for showing me the ropes.”
Uzi tried to ignore how her core warmed at that. She placed a hand on her hip,
“Nuh-uh! No bonding thing!” Ironically she said this to herself just as much as she did to N. Don’t fucking bond with a murder drone, dumbass! “You just killed a bunch of people, idiot.”
“That’s super fair.” N sighed softly, “I screwed up.”
She’s really going to do this isn’t she? Uzi groaned again, loud and annoyed. More at herself than anything else. Pulling her dad’s wrench from her pocket she asked,
“In the same way you’re about to fix it?”
N laughs but it's a high, strange sound. Like it's forced. Still he gives Uzi a thumbs up as his screen display reads: I’m Literally About To Die.
“I love doing anything.”
Uzi makes her way over to him and sits down cross-legged by his side. Her optics hollow out when she realizes it’s a damn virus the other murder drone had injected him with. One that’s almost fully downloaded. She has to work fast. She slots the wrench against the hexagonal chip and begins to rapidly loosen it from his chest. He gasps in pain but doesn’t say anything as she works.
"Goddamn, N…she just barely missed your core with this thing.”
She would have had a whole ‘nother problem to deal with it whatever this virus was had damaged his core. She barely knew how to treat injuries on a worker drone’s frame. How the fuck was she supposed to deal with this?
“I-It’s ok.” N gasped out, oil dribbling from his mouth, “I-I heal fast.”
It was distinctly not okay no matter how fast N healed, Uzi thought. But his voice patterns were returning to normal so that was a good sign she supposed. Wires covered in oil were still anchored into his chest so the small, purple worker drone kept extracting. Eventually N’s back arched painfully and she realized it was almost out. With a final, strong yank her new murder drone friend was free. Disgusted, Uzi crushed the viral load in her palm and dumped it on the ground. Her optics traveled to N who was panting for breath despite not needing to breathe. Not for the first time Uzi wondered why in the hell humans designed them to feel like they needed things they didn’t…like breathing. And pain.
“You good?” she asked warily.
N managed to give her a thumbs up before slumping back on the floor,
“S-Sorry, just-just need a minute.”
That was fair, she supposed. She imagined he was still dealing with the painful aftershocks of the virus. As much as she wanted to charge in and save her colony it would do her no good if N wasn’t in tiptop shape to do so. After all he would be going against his former teammates. She watched in a kind of morbid fascination as the same silver substance that regrew his head began to flow from within the wound the virus left and fill it. N let out a simulated breath in response, tilting his head toward her,
“I should be good here in a second.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. N’s optics narrowed at her and for a minute she felt her pulse spike in fear before she realized his gaze was zeroed in on her wound. The wound he gave her. The murder drone sat up abruptly, optics hollowed with guilt and shame,
“Biscuits! Oh, I’m so sorry! I-” he fumbled, “I mean I should have-”
Uzi waved his concerns away,
“Don’t worry about it. As long as you keep your promise we’re good.”
“Of course,” N tittered, “Just…may I?”
Uzi raised a digital eyebrow,
“May you what?”
“Heal it?” he winced slightly.
“Heal it?” she echoed, “Heal it with wh-?” she froze, surely he didn’t mean? But from the sheepish look on his face he did. Did-did murder drone saliva help heal wounds just in general?
“I thought it was for nanite wounds…” she said, voice a little faint.
“It…is. But it also speeds up your body's natural healing process?” N shrugged.
Uzi swallowed then pulled down the corner of her hoodie,
“Ok, just-just make it quick.”
N merely nodded. He carefully scooted closer to her, one hand gently grabbing her good shoulder as he leaned forward and laved his tongue over the wound. Uzi shuddered in response. N proceeded to “treat” her wound a couple of more times before he was seemingly satisfied. Uzi pretended not to see how he licked her remaining oil off his lips. Nor how hot that was. Gross. No way. N stood and offered her a hand, which she took.
“Let go save your colony,” he smiled
She nodded, determination filling her to her core. As N hoisted her on his shoulders so she could reach the ventilation shaft, he asked,
“By the way, I never got your name. What is it?”
Uzi chuckled,
“Uzi. Uzi Doorman.”