Work Text:
“You want them to do what?” William gritted out.
Jason, the unfortunate middleman in this situation, wrung his bottom set of hands.
“Well, its that Craig saw their work and is relatively certain-”
“Only relatively?” William snapped. Of course keeping his employees in line for something as important as THIS was too much for Craig, at least when it didn’t directly concern him, William thought bitterly.
“Well-” Jasons voice wavered “It’s, a, rock and a hard place?”
William fumed. What a Shit excuse.
Only two years ago did the C.O.G.S. inc independent contractor, known legally as only “Brian”, caused a severe brain injury in the name of science to a cog that had only been seeking his aid. It wasn’t like this was just hearsay either- anyone could look at Buck and see the extent of his injuries, and Brian wasn’t exactly quiet about his involvement, either.
Brian wasn’t exactly the cog you wanted to be assigned as your coworker, much less your Mechanic.
William was furious now, and when he’d heard the news. Just one email from his boss, and now his life was potentially at risk.
It wasn’t as if his current injury was even that detrimental to his work, William rationalized. A little gash in the abdomen that leaked like a faucet if she did anything but stand or sit, never killed anycog, and it surely wouldn’t harm her. And it wasn’t even like they could pull the “messy” or “concerning” card, as all the wrappings he’d applied had done well enough to hide the damn thing in the first place.
As Jason continued to yammer on about this or that, William could only continue to turn over all the facts he’d been given obsessively.
“-And he’s actually, uh, here to take you in for an assessment!”
Jason’s smile flagged minutely, and he leaned into William’s space.
“I am…so sorry.” he muttered, before switching his smile back on, turning to wave someone into the cramped office.
“There you are! Thanks for coming in on such a short notice!”
William’s metaphorical stomach dropped. Sure enough, when he turned in his chair, the haughty, self assured face of the Prethinker was staring back at him.
Before any cog present could even think to utter, something in William’s systems hit a critical failure, causing him to enter a mechanical state of unconsciousness.
=
“-Can you hear me now?”
William lethargically blinked. The lights above weren’t the heinously bright LED’s of HQ. No, these were aged, turned yellow thanks to years of grime and age.
“What about now?”
The voice had drawn closer, and William grunted.
Awareness had begun to trickle in, and William fumbled around on the surface he was on in order to sit upright. Eyes half shut, he struggled, before finally pulling himself up to sit.
Sitting on a chair not three paces away from the (exam table. Of course it was a fucking exam table) was Brian.
How William hadn’t connected the dots, he couldn’t say.
An uneasy sigh escaped him.
“Hello, Brian.”
“Boar.” The cog turned to page through some notes on the desk beside them, antenna twitching minutely. “For the record, I would suggest that you not make a habit of passing out when you are meeting guests, as it sends quite the rude message.”
“I’m aware, thank you.” William replied stiffly.
“Oh, I’m sure you are. For the record, you were transported here by the Desk Jockeys.”
“Fantastic.” William mumbled. A well of emotions was building up, and his arm went to cradle his abdomen protectively.
Brian glanced over at the movement.
“What are you doing?” Xeir tone was simultaneously chiding and questioning.
“Keeping myself from popping a goddamn gasket, that’s what.” he sniffed. “This whole thing is stressing me out, which isn’t helping my injury, and the whole thing starts over.”
William was too busy staring at the floor to notice the way Brian’s antenna piqued.
“Stress? What ever do you have to be stressed for?”
William knew the other cog was probably just leading up to one of their usual boasts, but something in him snapped. He stared daggers into their wide eyes.
“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’m currently sitting in Dr. Frankencog’s cogdamn laboratory right now?”
William grumbled.
“I don’t exactly have ‘test subject’ on my bucket list, you know.”
“You're NOT my test subject!” Brian shot back. “Just repairs, I’m not a SIMPLETON who can’t follow orders!” they added, tiny frame shaking with barely contained anger.
William wasn’t impressed. He scoffed.
“So, what, you’re sworn under oath not to hurt me? and I’m just supposed to trust that fact?”
“Well, yes!”
The urge to ask if Brian was dropped on their head while being formed flashed across William’s mind. He ignored the urge.
It dawned on him that there was no socially acceptable way to get out of this. He would have to rely on the two most unreliable cog’s in the entire company to make sure he would come out in one piece. Just his fucking luck.
William sighed.
“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
Brian brightened, her antenna perking up
“Great! I knew you’d see to reason.”
“Whatever.”
William watched as the other cog flitted around the space, gathering all manner of tools and parts, blueprints and writing implements. All of these were scattered on top of the desk they’d been sitting at, and they only sat back down when it seemed they gotten everything necessary.
“I only have one request.”
“As long as it’s reasonable, I don’t see why not.”
“Remove the coat, please.”
Brian paused. Their brain darkened in its casing minutely.
“My- Why would-”
“It will obstruct what your hands are doing. I prefer to keep track of the work that’s being done to me, as I do home repairs when I’m able.”
“Well-” Brians words faltered, and William resisted the urge to smile.
“I don’t see why not, I guess.” He sounded unsure of himself, but still moved to do as William had requested of him.
“Thanks.”
In this situation, it was really the least Brian could do for him.
He waited patiently.
Brian shed their lab coat, dumping the material over the back of a chair. William stiffened. Another set of arms rested right underneath the cogs standard set of limbs, purple metal above flexible rubber. The secondary set was smaller, almost as if it was auxiliary in purpose, meant to aid but never to replace.
A million questions sprung to the forefront of his mind, all of which were hastily dismissed when the cog turned back around.
Their antennae were raised in annoyance, their bottom set of arms folded in the front of their chest as the top gestured up and down.
“There, look. I complied with your request, and as you can see, no hidden tools.”
William had started to panic yet again. There were now twice as many hands to keep track of, to make sure xey wouldn’t disable him for good. He was already about as useful as a leaky bucket, the threshold for rendering him as good as scrap was an extremely easy one to reach. His tail began to pull itself close to his body, defending itself against the threat that hadn’t even happened yet.
The other cogs face had gone out of her sight. His mind was getting hazy, unfocusing as a million and one potential threats scraped at the edges of his mind.
He only barely registered the other cog speaking.
“Why are you still afraid? I did as you asked.” the other cog paused. “Was there something else I missed?” The other cogs tone was shockingly unaccusatory, nor was it mocking, as it might have normally been. Baffled- not annoyed but baffled- was the only way to describe it.
This struck William as odd. His eyes refocused, mind quieting to address this new happenstance. Brian hadn’t drawn closer as William had his little episode. This calmed him.
It suddenly dawned on him that Brian was not concerned with social niceties, what was expected of them as cogs. Efficiency, getting a good result, was what they valued most. If efficiency meant keeping William calm and in one piece, then they would do it. But they couldn’t do what they didn’t know.
If this was going to work, William was going to have to trust that fact, and keep them Aware of what was causing him issues. He sighed.
“No, there wasn’t anything you missed. I just wasn’t expecting more hands to keep track of.”
“Why would you need to keep track of my hands? I wasn’t given this job because I’m clumsy, you know!”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s an issue on my end. I already don’t like casual touch as it stands, repairs aren’t exactly any better.”
Brian paused for a moment, antenna twitching.
“Let me grab my notebook.”
Xey turned on a heel, grabbing a small memo pad from the precarious stack on their desk. Another arm shot out to snatch a pen, which was passed up to the left hand on the upper set of arms. A chair was also snatched, rolled up to allow Brian to sit in front of William. The memo pad was flung open.
“Would you say you are touch averse?”
“Yes.”
“Ok.”
They furiously scrawled, looping chicken scratch which quickly cluttered up the page.
“That will need to be managed. As we both know, mental strain will lead to physical strain, which isn’t good for your injury.” under their breath they muttered “Managing this will need to be a high priority..”
“How could that be managed? It’s not like you can just solder from 2 feet away.”
Brian waved a hand dismissively.
“Obviously. No, like I said this will need to be managed and minimized.” They scrawled a bit more, before looking up at William. William noted that the pupils of their eyes were mismatched.
“To compromise, I was thinking that one set of arms would be used for handling tools, with the other only delegated to touch. This way, I don’t get my metaphorical wires crossed, and you get the chance of touch dialed down.”
“That sounds amenable.”
The other cog huffed.
“Of course it is, all of my suggestions are nigh perfect. No point in voicing them otherwise.”
William resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Brian was being considerate on the things that mattered, it was fine if her usual demeanor leaked onto other less important subjects, William told himself.
“Which set?”
“What?”
“Which set would you prefer?”
Arms, Williams mind supplied, which arms for the repairs. One of her hands, which had been resting on her own leg idly, was turned palm up.
“I’m not sure. Give me your hand.”
Brian spluttered
“You want to hold my hand?”
“Quit acting like a baby, it’s better than you just poking me.” William didn’t voice it , but she also wanted to test Brian’s dexterity, grip strength, and reflexes. Telling Brian would no doubt subconsciously influence her, which was better to avoid.
Brian huffed, but didn’t complain further as moved to stand in front of William. The lighting wasn’t the best in the basement, but William swore the other cogs faceplate was tinged a little darker than normal. Regardless, the cog complied, placing one of her upper metal hands on top of William’s open palm. William minutely flinched, the metal of xeir hand far colder than a normal cog’s. He recovered quickly.
“Squeeze.”
The other cog complied immediately. Brian’s grip was formidable for her size and weight, clearly not even giving it her entire strength, as she gripped hard enough to nearly dent William’s sturdy paw-like hands.
“Stop.”
The pressure ceased at once.
“Thank you.” William paused. After a beat, he added.
“Sorry about this.”
Still grasping Brian’s hand, William’s free hand grabbed near Brian’s elbow, jerking the cog forward. The cog was forced into William’s space, following the motion of her pull so as to not injure either of them. Brian grunted at the motion, antenna nearly beaning William in the eye as they sprung up. Despite this, Brian’s hand hardly moved, only slightly twitching within William’s grip. Even subconsciously, William noted, it didn’t seem that Brian wanted to hurt him.
The other cog was trembling in her grip now, their pupils nearly the size of dinner plates as they stared into her swirling eyes. His mind stalled for a moment. He hadn’t factored in Brian’s response, assuming the cog would have just cussed him out like normal, huffing and puffing like they normally did. He wasn’t dumb enough to think they wouldn’t be scared, but not enough to warrant a response like this.
Let go of the arm, genius, his mind supplied. He complied, returning his hands back to his lap. Brian remained almost frozen in place, and he’d have wondered if he forced a minor reset if it weren’t for the way Brian’s antenna and body continued to tremble.
“Are you alright?”
This seemed to snap Brian out of wherever they’d been stuck. They shook their head, then cleared their throat.
“But of course! I was just merely, uh, calculating! What you did. And why.” the last part was tacked on a little lamely, like xey xemselves didn’t fully believe what xey’d said.
William frowned.
“I apologize. I just meant to test how you’d perform under duress.”
The cog shuffled where they stood, before drawing themselves up to point dramatically and frantically at William.
“Well, JUST DON’T DO IT AGAIN! I alone am capable, WITHOUT you throwing a monkey wrench into my work!”
“You have my word.”
Brian hmphed.
“We’ll see how good that is.”
They stuck a hand out, this time one of the lower ones. It hovered over Williams resting hands.
“Now, the other one.”
William was a little surprised that the other cog hadn’t screamed him out of the basement by now, and continued to indulge his slightly control freak-esque mannerisms. Still, he turned his hand. He let Brian settle their touch into his palm. He marveled at the difference, this palm being noticeably warmer and softer to the touch. Not thinking, he lightly grasped their palm, thumb coming to run along knuckles covered in protective rubber. It seemed Brian had mistaken the action as a demand, and promptly gripped his palm. This hand was less sturdy, able to do damage, and seemed to be clearly meant for more delicate tasks. Handling living organisms, or even glass, called for this kind of thing. William had reached a consensus.
“This set is acceptable.”
Awareness suddenly washed over him at his own announcement. Gripping a strange, potentially dangerous cogs hand, in their weird basement, for a highly personal injury. Shame reared its ugly head, and he quickly withdrew his hand to the safety of his sides.
A small, barely noticeable hiss escaped the other cog. It wasn’t dissimilar to the sound a disconnected hose line would make, and William looked at the other cog. Meeting their gaze, he noticed their eyes had narrowed, antenna pinched down in a way that did not look relaxed. Had they popped something?
“You blow a gasket or something?”
They continued to stare at him for a beat, before blinking hard.
“Wha- a gasket? No, of course not!”
“Then what was that noise?”
“What noise?”
“Sounded like compressed air.”
“Compressed air. Hm.” Brian rubbed the bottom of her faceplate. His antenna perked up minutely.
The noise rang out again.
“That. What was that.”
“Madgascog Hissing Roach.”
“..You have roaches in here?”
“No! I modeled myself after one!”
“..Why?”
“They’re much more efficient than the average cog. I’ve studied them extensively, I would know.” Brian waved a metal hand.
“But, we aren’t here to discuss the leaps and bounds I’ve made in my field. Explain to me the issue, and then we can assess it here today.”
William was more than slightly baffled, but nodded despite herself. The sooner she could get out of here, the better.
“It started two weeks ago when-”
==
One hour later, William was sent on his way. Brian had mapped out all of the affected areas, making highly detailed sketches for any of the parts that she was convinced were “Out of circulation” or “being priced at frankly criminal rates”. William didn’t bother asking how she would get the parts, figuring it was probably better if he didn’t think too hard about it, for his health's sake.
A temporary fix had been put into place in the meantime, some caulk like material William hadn’t caught the name of. It would tide her over until her next meeting with Brian, approximately one week from the day. In the off chance of any emergencies concerning the temp fix, Brian had said, William had better call xeir personal cell to reduce the risk of more permanent damage. William hadn’t really gotten a choice in the matter of taking or not taking it, as it had been stapled on top of all the other papers Brian insisted William take, vaguely resembling notes or a intake form.
William idly flipped through the papers as he walked back to his apartment, double and triple checking numbers and stats. Everything was perfect to a T, the only negative being the handwriting. Numbers were neatly penned, but once the writer got into letter territory, it started going downhill fast. It was a unique quirk for sure, and William wondered why the other cog even had that style of writing at all, unless it was modified code. The only other cog who even remotely resembled it was Belle’s, her cursive script identifiable on any document or letter she’d sent out.
Maybe, William thought as she turned up flight after flight of stairs, it was a modified cursive module, one of the older ones. With all the other modding the cog had done, he reasoned, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for that to have been the case.
Inefficient for sure, but uniquely identifiable. He paused at his door. Unless it was a toon thing…
He sighed. It had been a long day, and it was way too late to worry about a rabbit hole as deep as that. For now, the only order of business in the cogs mind was recharging, and not thinking too hard about how considerate Brian could be.
