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Saitama strides inside his house, half carrying and half dragging his cyborg companion. Genos had defeated the pack of murderous robots outside with seemingly ease but had dropped to the ground as soon as it was over.
The hero pushed his disciple against the wall and flicked him in the forehead. “Hey Genos, you okay?”
There was a burst of static, making Saitama jump back startled. Genos’ eyes slowly opened, then widened at the sight of him. “Master.” His voice was distorted, like a TV with bad reception.
“Uh, should I call the doctor? What happened?” The older man lowered himself again to look at him face to face.
“This is…” He shook his head, continuing with a more stable voice. “It seems I have sustained an Ow@IQAAA#ESK type attack on my KWkj011nkwqQ, overloading all OOewE. All PWD!E systems are…” The blond frowned in concentration. “I am sick.”
Saitama stared in disbelief at Genos, who was now doing a very exaggerated pout. The older man started to get up. “I am ca–” the cyborg’s hand stopped him.
“I ran a diagnostic and this damage can be repaired on its own by my body. I merely need…” Genos frowned again, his voice getting clearer. “Rest?” He looked up at Saitama expectantly, his eyes wide and bright.
The other hero covered his eyes with his free hand, praying for patience. “How should I know? I didn’t even know you could get sick.”
“It’s alright Master, I ju–” The cyborg tried to get up but ended up stumbling forward into Saitama’s arms. “Master you’re so warm…” His voice still cracked from time to time with distortion, but could perfectly be heard from the point where Genos was nuzzling the older man’s stomach.
“GENOS WHAT ARE Y-” Saitama calmed down when he realized how cold the blonde was. He was generally hotter than a normal human. “What’s going on, why are you cold?”
“The ^^^çWe syssssstem is redirecting IWJwDDD into the W((((3 to speed recovery.” He didn’t seem very willing to move away from his Master’s arms. “’m sick.” And he truly seemed like the epitome of misery.
Saitama quietly counted to three. Then counter to ten, just to be sure. There was no reason to hit a sick person, and by the way Genos was acting there seemed to be nobody home anyway. The older man dragged and dumped him on the futon and then, just because why not, dropped the two blankets nearby on top of the teenager. He felt silly doing it but who knows a damn thing about sick robots.
Genos blinked innocently, like he had just woken up. “Master… am I… going to die?”
Saitama started counting to thr– “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE JUST SHUT UP AND SLEEP!” Genos looked at him surprised, and then Saitama heard the worst possible sound ever.
A loud sob.
“No no no please don’t cry oil all over the futon…” Saitama cooed in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “It’s okay, you’re not gonna die, I’m here, okay? Trust me!”
Genos sniffed, oily tears threatening to fall at any point. “Master, you promise?” His voice was low, with a small background of static. Like a very small child who was also a broken radio.
The older man wanted to smack him really, really bad. “Yes. I’ll get you some pudding, okay? Just… stay here and try to relax…” He got up and made a mental note to never let Genos fight robots on his own again. A sentimental robot with a fever, just what I needed.
Handing the pudding to the sick cyborg, Saitama tried to wipe the small beads of oil off the younger man’s face with a few tissues. “How are you feeling?”
“Repairs are at seven point two oh four percent, Master. Beep.”
“Beep?”
“I’ve always wanted to say it.” Genos handed him the empty pudding package and snuggled back under the covers. Saitama’s counting was up to 47 already. “Master is very kind.”
He blinked, then put the leftovers on the table and looked down at his self proclaimed disciple. “I’m always kind, you brat.” he declared proudly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The kid looked kind of cute, his usually frowning face stuck in a pout and his bulky robotic form hidden under a protective cocoon of blankets.
“Can you…” the cyborg sniffed, murmuring in a very low voice. “Can you hold my hand, Master?” One metallic hand snaked out from under the blankets and waited patiently.
The older man looked at it helplessly, like it could bite at any moment, then sighed in resignation. “Only until you fall asleep, okay? Go to sleep.”
The teen sniffed again. “Master is very kind”, he announced before closing his eyes.