Chapter Text
He would have to crouch down to pick up the long, nosed rifle from the broken wooden crate, using his free hand to flick the bits of wood shavings and hay that had once served as viable cushioning for the weapon. Looking at the very broken state of the crate compared to the weapon he held, it's performed that job well.
Sonja would weigh the gun in his hands, letting it tug at his fingers as he bounced his wrist. But he was careful not to drop it. Shifting the weight of the barrel to his other hand, he'd treat the rifle with the reverence it deserved as he learned it's body.
"What a nice token to find out here..."
He'd say, his voice coming out as a raspy murmur from his speaker as he spoke to himself. Shrugging down the sleeve of his trenchcoat over the bottom of his palm, he'd cup it to wipe the rainwater from the cold metal of the gun.
Pristine, except for a few scratches that had shown that it had been used before, or at least lugged around with the intention of use. A PTRS-41 anti-tank rifle. Soviet in creation, just like he was, but so much more gorgeous.
Sonja wished he were human again, maybe just for a short moment, so he could taste the sharp tang of it's iron body and barrel on his lips and tongue.
He'd spit out a noise akin to a laugh. Sometimes he wished he could taste the lead of the guns he handled, too. Not that he could ever pull the trigger on himself, as much as he wanted to. But it would be an experience he would enjoy.
He'd only need to dry it out for it to be ready for use. Considering it hadn't been submerged in water, that seemed easier than it could be. He could still open it up, examine it's internal mechanisms, the grace that contributed to creating such a deadly weapon.
Maneuvering his grip, he'd pull the leather strap of the gun over his TV head and shoulder to comfortably store it over his back. Lovely. He must look so friendly like this, he'd remark in his thoughts, as he glanced down at the two pistols that he had on him- making three guns on his person total.
Everything was getting wet in the rain, he had no clue if anything would even work if he came to having to fight. He avoided fighting most of the time anyways, so he saw little issue with that. As fun as it was to fight, it was less risky to pussy out.
He stood back up, brushing some slicked rain water off of his shoulders. Tilting his body slightly, he'd look out the broken window of the street-level building to see outside, only to see another light facing back at him from outside in the street.
Sonja originally mistook it for the reflection in the wetness of the city, but he'd straighten up to better look at the... Dauntingly massive figure standing in the street across from him. They had paused in their step, and had seemed to have been standing there, observing him, for a while now.
It wasn't even a trick of his mind this time, the way that the rain clung to the sharp features of the other robot was far too lively to be nothing but a hallucination. Armed with various weapons and already a tad bit gorey from their recent encounters, the TVman opposite of him seemed interested in him, although any other intention was unknown. Sonja wasn't interested in sticking around to talk.
Sonja had seen cameramen, speakermen, and TVmen before. The cameramen and speakermen were easy to kill, and the cameramen were his go-to prey items when he needed spare parts for himself. But, the TVmen were a completely different.
Even though Sonja had a TV as a head, he was nowhere near competitive against their ability to crush a robot into nothing more than a textured cube with their bare hands. And this one in particular looked like they could do it with a car, too.
Sonja was smart, and knew that if he abstained from interaction with a TVman, they would leave.
"IDENTIFY YOURSELF?"
The voice was deep and uncanny, as well as altered to be backwards. While it could be complicated for any human to immediately decipher, Sonja understood it clearly, given his now-mechanical nature. He could catch the edge of a question to it, although not entirely apparent in the voice itself.
Sonja didn't say a word, standing there and staring at the empiric beast that was staring back. It was one of the few situations where he didn't have a good idea on what to do. He hadn't faced a TVman in battle before, nor did he know much about their hidden aces. However many they may have.
On the fifth minute of complete silence between them, the stranger would speak again.
"UNREGISTERED IN DATABASE. PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELF."
They'd ask Sonja the same question again, this time coupling it with a not-so-placating please. Sonja only stepped back.
"YOU ARE DAMAGED, YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE FROM A PROFESSIONAL FOR REPAIR."
The TVman would then point out, as if Sonja wasn't already aware of his damaged state. He'd shortly glance down at the deep gash in the steel of his arm, before putting a hand over it. It was something he could fix on his own.
"I don't need help... I'm fine... You can just leave me alone, alright?"
Sonja finally replied, being unable to keep himself from swerving into the path of self-preservation by immediately making his desire to be left alone known. If he could get the stranger to leave, he'd be feeling much better than he was right now. He hadn't properly spoken to someone in over three years now, and wasn't ready to break that streak. And... Maybe he didn't feel too comfortable around this TVman.
"PLEASE?"
The stranger would plead, almost sounding concerned. The massive figure took a step closer to the building, and Sonja could now hear the rainwater pattering off of their broad frame. Sonja felt his internal struts shudder, and he'd only take a step back.
The stranger would immediately stop their advance upon seeing Sonja take a step away, pausing in what was once a doorway to the building the smaller robot was within.
"I'm not a TVman. I... I'm not part of the TVman army. I'm not part of whatever alliance you guys have, at all. I don't need your help. You can leave..."
Sonja said, hoping that explaining that he wasn't an ally or an enemy would help to get the point across that he wanted to be left alone.
"BUT YOU ARE HURT. I WANT TO HELP YOU."
The stranger quipped without a moment to think, resting a large hand on the concrete wall of the doorway to indicate their passive encroachment. They were only concerned about him; even Sonja could sense that.
Sonja stared up at the stranger, taking in their appearance. Similar to his own, yet so much different in a beautifully unique way. Sonja had gotten far too used to seeing TVmen that adjust to one single appearance, similar to his own; this was far different. The uniform, the armor, the weapons. It seemed to be a TVman built for combat, moreso than their comrades.
"Who are you?"
Sonja asked, his voice wavering a little bit. He wondered why they would even care about him, if they were an advanced super-soldier of sorts. He kinda wished they had sticked to whatever plans they had and just left him. This was getting uncomfortable.
"I AM CHARON, AN ELITE SOLDIER OF THE TVMEN. WHO ARE YOU?"
The TVman would question in return, the purple-hued light emanating from their screen continuing to wash down upon Sonja through the darkness of the rainy night.
"Sonja..."
He'd finally tell the stranger.
"SONJA. I AM AWARE YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO INJURE YOU. I WANT TO ASSIST YOU TO AN OFF-FIELD LOCATION FOR PROPER REPAIRS."
Charon told him, taking a tentative step closer to the smaller robot- only for Sonja to step away again. He'd grip the injury on his arm a little tighter. He knew it likely wasn't the only thing this machine could see in his long list of detriments, and knew that there was some godawful repairs he had done on himself that were likely warranting the heightened concern. Sonja knew that he could fall over and die at any moment. Did he care? No. He hoped it would happen eventually.
"No... I'm alright. I can fix it myself."
Sonja mumbled, feeling the concrete of the wall press into his back. That only heightened his discomfort, and he'd look for a spot that he could use to escape other than the entrance that was being blocked by Charon.
"YOUR CURRENT CONDITION STATES OTHERWISE. YOU ARE INEPT TO CARE FOR YOUR DAMAGES. PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE IS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED."
The taller robot advised with docility, but also seriousness to his artificial voice. He was concerned, and it was clear that he believed in leaving no man behind.
"Just let me die, then."
Sonja immediately snapped back with some sudden aggression, making the TVman's head twitch back in surprise.
Neither Charon or Sonja spoke again for an extended period of time. Sonja's demeanor soured as he turned to duck out of a hole in the side of the building, disappearing out of sight. He didn't particularly enjoy being aggressive toward the alliance, especially when Charon was just trying to be helpful, but he despised the intrusion on his privacy.
As much as he didn't want to accept it, Sonja did need to be repaired. He could feel a warm, wet spot beneath his coat where the injury on his arm had begun to leak an unknown fluid from inside his chassis. He grumbled softly from his speakers, retreating his hand away from it as he walked- looking down at it.
But, he'd do nothing to care for it in that moment, instead reaching over to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from within his coat. He'd light the cigarette, pushing it into the small gap that the crack in his screen had created long ago.
"SMOKING WILL NOT FIX YOUR INJURY."
Sonja immediately jumped upon hearing Charon's voice much closer. How did he even get over to him so quietly?!
"Kurwa, pierdolić- wysiadać!"
He'd yelp in Polish as he subconsciously threw the plastic lighter at Charon in unhappy surprise, the TVman soldier not even flinching as it bounced off of his shoulder. But Charon would swiftly catch it in it's fall toward the ground, keeping it in his palm.
Sonja mumbled more angry, incomprehensible words in Polish as he glanced over at the TVman, which quite literally looked like he had materialized out of nowhere.
Maybe Sonja was hallucinating Charon. Their interaction had been far from normal, and Sonja wasn't feeling the best from his injury. Maybe it was getting to him, and worsening his symptoms... Or, maybe, it was already too late.
Charon. The name should've clicked sooner.
"No, no! You're here to take me away, aren't you?! Am I dead? I don't..."
He said, his voice breaking off as he pushed himself up against the brick wall of the building he had just exit.
"WHAT?"
Charon asked with concern, seeming genuinely dumbfounded. He seemed to be catching onto the fact that Sonja was... Unwell, in multiple aspects. The rambling, the sudden flips in demeanors and emotions, the random conclusions drawn up from nothing. This was not a condition caused by injury, especially for an android.
Unkept and tattered clothing, shabbily repaired damages, stains which indicated that he had been outside for a long while. Was he seriously just walking around like this on a battlefield? Alone?
"ARE YOU ILL?"
Charon asked Sonja, still sounding just as confused as he was concerned. The behavior of this strange TVman was becoming worrying. Were his vital systems shutting down, giving root to this demented behavior?
Sonja cupped a hand over his cigarette to nurture the flame through the cold, wet evening.
"I don't even know... Who are you?"
He questioned, sounding hesitant to ask. Maybe he was just as confused as Charon was. As much as he got angry about it, he seemed genuinely unnerved by his condition, when he had enough conscience to acknowledge it.
"I AM CHARON, A SOLDIER OF THE TVMEN. I WANT TO HELP YOU."
Charon explained, trying his best to sound gentle to the robot he still didn't know well, not wanting to scare him in his confused state. He was gifted with his strength, and only saw it fitting to use it to do good when he could. And this... Stranger he had happened upon, he needed the assistance.
Maybe he saw a fragments of himself, both new and old, in the stranger. Maybe it's why he couldn't stop himself from trying to help him.
He stepped closer to Sonja, nearly letting out a relieved trickle of static from his speakers as the smaller robot didn't bolt or shy away again.
"No... I don't need help."
Sonja told Charon, crossing his arms as he looked down to the ground, rain continuing to patter down from the sky around them.
"YOU ARE INJURED."
Charon reminded Sonja, and the smaller android would look down to the damaged spot on his arm, as if he had forgotten about that too. Sonja still stayed silent, firm on his choice. Whether it had been his own doing, or the result of past trauma, he had no desire to trust someone other than himself. Not with anything.
"CAN I WALK YOU HOME? YOU SHOULD NOT BE OUT HERE."
Charon asked him. He hated hearing the words come from his speaker. Sonja needed help, but it was clear that whatever debilitated state Sonja was in now had been excited into being by the sudden stress he was feeling. Maybe the best thing he could do was help to usher the poor soul home.
"I... I don't mind..."
Sonja mumbled in response, but seemed to take Charon's advice. He'd turn to start slowly slinking through the dark, cold city, moving with the innate nature of a man who knew the void as something as familiar as the hum of his own systems within his chassis.
And Charon knew it just as well; in the absence of the moon and stars, Charon had been deep in the dark before. He was in the dark now. But, maybe there was a chance that his screen was just bright enough to help this stranger navigate the uncertainty of the night easier. And that made it worth the time to stay with him.
They would walk together in silence, Charon following a few paces behind Sonja. Shoes splashing through puddles, maneuvering around the deeper ones. It was strangely quiet, but the quiet was not unwelcome.
"YOU LIVE ALONE?"
Charon asked Sonja, taking a longer stride so he could walk closer to him.
"Yes, I've always been alone..."
Sonja said, bringing his hands to his screen wearily as he cleaned the water droplets from the dirty glass.
"IT IS DANGEROUS OUT HERE, IF YOU ARE AWARE."
The TVman said to him, keeping his voice pitched down and quiet to not stress the stranger out any more than he already was.
"Look, I can survive on my own... I'm just... Messed up, okay?"
He told Charon, glancing over at him for a short moment before looking back ahead. Charon could better see the fatigue that plagued Sonja's entire being, the restlessness caused by his condition.
"I UNDERSTAND."
Charon replied, but said nothing further as they walked. He seemed more sure of the other android's navigation skills, as they were clearly going somewhere rather than backtracking or going in circles. Maybe his head was clear enough to know where to go.
"What is your name again?"
Sonja asked Charon, and the other was quick to give a response.
"CHARON. I AM A SOLDIER OF THE TVMEN."
He told Sonja once again, for the third time over. But he'd continue to tell him as long as he kept asking for his name. He didn't want to be a stranger.
"Charon... After the... That guy?"
Sonja figured verbally, not quite remembering who he had just been thinking about.
"THE FERRYMAN OF THE UNDERWORLD."
Charon seemed to pick up on what Sonja was thinking about.
"Yes, him..."
Sonja said, his gaze traveling upward to stare at the starless night sky above, and the black clouds that rolled like sweeping waves below the galaxies that reigned everything beyond.
"When will you take me down the river?"
He asked Charon, almost tiredly. It had been over a decade since he was shown such compassion as this. He could nearly feel the paddled oar behind him, shepherding him to the boat that would bring him to a place he didn't know.
"I AM NOT THE FERRYMAN. I AM ONLY NAMED AFTER HIM."
He replied to Sonja, his voice unwavering but softer. Was this man so devoid of any connection that his first experience with another sentient being was immediately seen as something of his final moments?
"Then why show me kindness, after all that I've done? You must want something from me... I have nothing to offer of value, not anymore."
Sonja's hand found it's way back to the injury on his arm, pressing a hand over it again. It was still leaking warm fluids. He wondered if it had been the final thing to best his weak frame.
"I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU DID, AND I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU. I AM ASSISTING YOU BECAUSE IT IS MY DUTY."
Charon told Sonja, not hesitating to make it definite that he wanted nothing from Sonja. The accusatory words from the other only confirmed his earlier suspicions, though.
Sonja had been accustomed to being manipulated by everyone who showed him kindness for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to experience a positive interaction with someone else.
He had been accustomed to then living alone as a result, seeking out solitude and letting his past dictate and change his future on the dark streets of the abandoned city.
And Charon followed him, much more capable of caring for himself, but empathetic to Sonja's deteriorated condition. Like he had felt some of that before, and like he still felt some of it now.
Maybe they had more in familiar than either of them could acknowledge in that moment.