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John Heartburn didn’t expect to have moved on so easily from Urbanshade. The cases were still going on, sure, and he was pretty sure he and HQ were under supervision by the government… but speaking of HQ…
He hasn’t left their bed in three days.
John had tried everything to get him out. Coaxing. Bribery. Laying with him.
The latter worked the most, though John had to give up on that after he’d been rehired as a security guard for some smaller company that hired out on occasion. The pay was a drop but still enough to support… Tonight had been no different, even as John flicked the apartment’s lights on.
Their Deep Sea Bunnies, Mallow and Nocturna, stayed asleep all cuddled in their dog bed that him and HQ had bought before this mess. He remembered that night when he’d finally brought Nocturna into the apartment for the first time, seeing Mallow guiding Nocturna over to her bed, the tiny little thing doing his best to keep his Coral-infected sister from crashing into a wall. He’d succeeded in doing so that night, and for days John remembered seeing Mallow running around the place trying to help Nocturna memorize the layout of her new home.
“HQ?” John opened the door to their bedroom. The curtains were shut, and HQ had already pulled the covers over his head to block out the outside world. John could only sigh as he dropped his things and began to change.. HQ didn’t so much as move a muscle until he felt familiar arms attempting to unwrap him from his blanketed prison to pull him closer.
HQ would’ve fought back playfully before this.
He would’ve teased and groaned as John tried to act all romantic.
He would’ve invited John in his arms in an instant, ready for their night of rest…
And yet he still didn’t move. “...had a nice day?” John finally managed to get HQ into his arms. The latter just breathed in and out. “...mine was alright. Had to guard outside some Government Meeting. I think they knew I was former Urb–” A wince. Okay… that was something, no? A wince was better than HQ deciding randomly to stop breathing. “That’s okay… I don’t need to fill you in..”
HQ tapped his arm. Keep going, he meant even if it seemingly exhausted him. I want to hear.
“...alright.”
—
It’s been longer than just a month.
HQ still won’t leave, still refuses to leave even.
John can’t remember a day where he hasn’t had to force HQ to eat and drink anything at all during the day…even if he has to convince HQ it’s what Mr. Shade would expect of him, it doesn’t feel any better, but he can’t afford to lose him even in this state.
People in the media are accusing Urbanshade of being a crazed personality cult, all centered around Mr. Shade and his affiliations with the Banlands.
John can’t even bring himself to deny it.
Because it’s true, he reminds himself, it’s why HE’s been like this for two months now.
John… doesn’t know what to do.
He’s exhausted all the possible ways to coax HQ into moving on. All that's worked is joining him or tricking him into believing a lie–that this’ll move over eventually and everything will go back to normal.
How is he supposed to lie though, when HQ lays there all day whilst his mind wanders for any sort of purpose to keep going? Does he suck it up? Does he tell HQ the truth? Why’s he even keeping hope after seeing so many high-ranking people already end their lives to avoid repercussions. Is this truly where he’s heading?
John refuses to let it end like this.
Does he seriously need to kick his head into a jumpstart though?
Surely if he himself moved on from Urbanshade’s influence, HQ can too. He has to kick back eventually. Otherwise he’d be going against all he’d stood for in the years they were partners in work and just only recently any sort of personally.
—
He doesn’t remember when he last felt the hardwood creak underneath his charred skin. Even if one leg was metal and the other was charred, he could still feel the cold wood while he stumbled out of their dark bedroom.
Even as the sun shined from out of the clouds in the early morning’s winter snow, and his body reached for its scarce rays, he didn’t feel it on his skin. Useless. What warmth could possibly fix this?
“H–...Mikey?”
…he supposed he found his solution. His solace.
As he stepped slowly into the welcoming arms of this man, he could feel a small tinge of that warmth seeping back. It’s in everybody’s nature to seek out comfort… no surprise, really. It’s how everything on earth is programmed. Seek out things, be awarded, do more to get more awards.
“Mikey…”
He didn’t speak, yet John knew everything he wanted. He was still here. Even if HQ refused to move on. Even if he couldn’t see or hear half of his surroundings. Even if everything in his body screamed at him to run back to bed and shut everything out again.
John stayed.
He always stayed.
“...hungry? Do you want me to make somethin’, honey?”
Food…
He supposed that was a necessity, right? The human body requires it.
Human.
Is he still that?
All the metal in his body convinces him otherwise. He’s more of a machine than man. He was trained to be a machine the moment he was promoted to his rank as Headquarters, trained to be up tops to an AI, even if Mr. Shade wanted him to be even better of a tool and less of a human.
…no.
Stop.
He’s gone now, remember? You can’t go back even if you wanted to. Is that really what you want, Micheal, to subject yourself even more to a man that sees you as what you saw others as? A number? A statistic? A living, breathing money-maker?
Would he be a hypocrite if he said no?
“Honey…” Hands wave in his good eye. Oh. Yeah. “...I’ll make you something.”
…he knows him too well. Normally that would be a massive security risk that must be addressed lest he wanted to risk his rank over private affairs such as this... He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t super appreciative of it though.
…
Is it bad if he wants some Povitica?