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Not here. Galbatorix switched to the next camera, scanning the room. Not here either. He felt his fingers twitch against the scratched table of the run-down diner he was sitting in. The smell of the coffee in front of him, created an odd contrast to camera images of the trashed rooms he was switching through increasingly fast.
He shoved the camera images to his left eye for a moment to throw a glance across the street at the old factory building he was staking out. His eye. Sometimes he still had to chuckle about that a bit. Galbatorix hadn’t been he until he had taken over this body and erased the former occupant. And he hadn’t been Galbatorix, until he had improved this vessel even further. He was better than all those puny humans.
Switching his vision back to the full view of the cameras, he turned his head back to face the table.
Nothing again. Switch. And not here either. Where were those damned scavengers? Normally those were far more careless about hiding. What did Murtagh get himself into this time?
Cold metal pressed against the synthetic nerves in his neck, nudging against the cyberware hidden by his hair. Galbatorix shifted, ready to fry the synapses of whoever was stupid enough to threaten him, but stilled at a familiar voice.
“Have you gotten a bit inattentive over the past year, my beloved rogue AI?”
The camera images flickered away fully this time, his mind pulling away from the network. His heart beat faster. Although not from fear.
“Morzan.”
“Alive and well. Despite everything.”
The gun lingered for a short moment. Then, Morzan removed it with a sigh, stepped around the table and slid into the booth. The gun he dropped onto the table like it was merely an empty can of nicola.
Galbatorix gritted his teeth for a moment. Here was what made him far more like a pathetic human existence; the way how Morzan still – always – captured his attention without effort. And how it made Galbatorix’ thoughts and especially his vessel, act without his permission. Just like now, when his hands wanted to reach out over the table to grasp Morzan’s. Instead, he cut off the motion and rested them next to his coffee instead.
The other unabashedly stared at him out of black and blue eyes.
“You haven’t changed much. You look more tired perhaps. Have you forgotten again that you need sleep? Do you eat enough?”
Galbatorix returned the sharp attention, taking in the other’s appearance. There was nothing to see any more of the cyberpsycho from a year ago, hanging on by a thread. He looked almost calmer than the first time Galbatorix had met him. Granted, he had almost killed him back then.
“You look... much better.”
“Rude. Was I ugly before?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Guess you had your reasons to send me to that intervention project.” He fiddled with the gun a bit and stuck his tongue out at a woman who glared at him for the scraping noise. His next words were quieter. “I am doing much better.”
“And I’m glad to hear that. What about...”
Galbatorix raised a hand and touched the side of his neck with a questioning look at Morzan. The taller mirrored his motion, corners of his mouth twitching up slightly when he brushed against the small red scales made of metal there.
“What? Did you think they wouldn’t just pull out all the chrome but also these? They did ponder on it, but in the end, they decided that keeping something personal might actually help me. They only are decorative for the most part anyway.” He spread his hands with a grin. “Can’t ever get the animal out of the Animal.”
Galbatorix snorted. For a member of the Animals, Morzan was almost a lightweight. Not like the other piles of dumb moving meat and muscle of that gang. By the state of his mind, he would have fitted in more with Maelstrom anyway. Walking the edge of insanity. And that already had been before he had all the implants added. Which brought Galbatorix back to the topic.
“Did they take it all out? I saw something different when I’ve ran diagnostics on you just now.”
“You just... Ah whatever. They did. But I took a small detour on my way back and afforded myself a little welcome-back gift. Which was a wise decision apparently, because I couldn’t find Zar’roc anywhere when I was at the flat.”
“Your son has your katana. He’s grown quite fond of it.” Galbatorix squinted, refraining from entering Morzan’s system again. He didn’t want to start this out with a fight about trust. That squishy human part of himself had missed Morzan like a line of his own code, and he wanted to go back to how it had been before everything. Without Morzan’s bouts of loss of reality. Still, he was allowed to worry about the taller ending up in psychosis again. “How much did you let the ripper-doc cram in?”
“Not much, promise. Just a pair of mantis blades and a little bit of bounce to jump fences. I almost feel like a teenager again. Or back when I was still with the gang. If you ignore the synth-skin and muscle they had to put in at the clinic, to replace all the chrome. I feel almost too light now.”
Tilting his head, Galbatorix blinked. He himself had never been a teenager, nor without any implants, but he understood the comparison. “I’ll keep an eye on you anyway.”
Morzan smiled. Soft this time. Understanding. “You always do.” Then he snatched up Galbatorix’ coffee, took a long sip and set it down to point a finger at the other. “Now. Tell me what you’re doing here. I was lucky enough to figure out where to find you by tracking down your car. You hate diners and you also had that absent ‘I’m wandering the net and up to no good’- expression when I walked in.”
Rogue AI in human skin, or not; Galbatorix thought that he wouldn’t have liked to be in this position either way. It was one thing to meet your love again, that you had stuck into an institution for his own sake a year ago, in some stinking diner. It was another to also tell said love that his son had gotten himself – once again – into trouble. Lying was even worse of an idea though. He did need to help Murtagh after all. His code didn’t know why. But his synapses did.
He sighed. “Your son stuck his nose too deep into scav business. Got caught, bad luck as he always has. They figured that they might as well recycle the one snooping around their things. He called me, but we couldn’t speak. It was enough to locate him though.”
The plastic coffee cup made a loud crunching noise where Morzan squished it in his hand. A few drops spilled onto the already stained table.
“Why did he go alone?”
“Same as always; he rather gets himself in more danger alone, than getting someone else in less danger if he was with them. Even Thorn doesn’t know. I was suspicious when he left the flat, but only knew when he called.”
Morzan was already halfway out of his seat. “We’re getting him out. Now.”
“I wasn’t done with mapping the place out yet. Or even locating where exactly in the building they’ve set up their chopping business.”
“You can make people’s heads explode in mere seconds and have a very nice monowire; you don’t need a map.”
“Morzan. Rushing in might only endanger Murtagh further. You know that.”
The taller growled, but plopped back onto the bench. The worn plastic protested with a loud creak.
“Fine. Tell me your plan. I know you have one.”
As quiet as possible, Morzan closed the door to Murtagh’s room behind him. There was no need for him to check on his son; Murtagh was almost an adult and had been in rougher spots before, but Morzan couldn’t help his worrying. It wasn’t something new in itself, but it was stronger now after his stay at the clinic. He wasn’t quite sure if he was ‘softer’ than before, or if he simply reached an emotional state that was close to ‘normal’. Whatever normal was.
He walked through the main room and into his bedroom. What had been his bedroom. Their bedroom. Galbatorix’. Or was it still theirs?
Annoying uncertainty gnawed at him and he stopped as the door closed, almost hitting him in the back.
Galbatorix already sat on the bed, only wearing shorts, implanted tier five netrunning gear, from the back of his head, over his shoulders and down his spine, gleaming faintly in the dim light. Morzan blinked at the unusual sight of the other having his hair tied up in a very short ponytail, likely to keep it from annoying him while reading. A new habit.
Morzan suddenly felt like he hadn’t been gone for one, but ten years. It almost made him turn and leave.
“I know that you think me pleasant to look at. And I’m certainly not opposed. But I also know that your feet will get cold if you keep standing there without socks.”
He sat his book - he had a strange fascination for such old-fashioned things – on the nightstand and moved to pull up the blankets from the foot of the bed. Morzan watched him for a few seconds longer, then hesitantly shuffled closer. Galbatorix squinted at him when he stopped next to the bed, then patted the spot next to him with slight annoyance. The taller huffed, then crawled under the blankets with slightly red ears.
“I... wasn’t sure if you would still want me around.”
Flicking his hair tie onto the nightstand, Galbatorix looked at him as if he had just said something completely baffling. And a bit stupid.
“Why wouldn’t I want to have you around anymore?” He prodded and pushed at Morzan until he turned onto his back and Galbatorix could lean over him without throwing off the blankets. “It would be a risk of my safety, to have you walk and talk around out of my view. I’m quite done with netwatch agents nipping at my heels. It always ends up in a bloody mess.”
Morzan’s expression soured. “I would never tell on you.”
The other blinked and nodded. “I know. Just as you should know that I have more than that one reason not to toss you out on the streets.”
“Like the fact that this still is my flat?”
“Give me a few minutes and it won’t be anymore.”
Something shimmered in Galbatorix’ eyes, hinting at him connecting to the net. Morzan bucked and used his weight to roll on top of the other, who breathed out a giggle. A reassurance that he had only been joking. Although unneeded, because Morzan already knew that. He playfully bit at the other’s shoulders, careful to avoid the cyberware – he wasn’t too fond of the taste of metal and all that – and chuckled when Galbatorix started squirming in an effort to try and retaliate. Eventually they ended up laying on their sides, aimlessly squeezing and poking at each other as if they still weren’t quite believing that they were back together. It made Morzan feel like his heart might flutter out of his chest.
Galbatorix pressed his forehead against his, stilling their movements almost entirely. “I’m glad you’re here again. I don’t like how it felt to miss you. It was like I lost my heart somewhere and replaced it with glass shards.”
Nudging their noses together, Morzan grasped his hands. “You were the one who made me leave.”
“It was for your best.”
“It was. And I... I do thank you.” The words weren’t easy to say, but if there was one person he would ever tell those, it was Galbatorix. “Truly. It was the best decision. I can’t stand the thought that I could have hurt you, just because I was too out of it and didn’t-”
Galbatorix squeezed his fingers lightly, cutting off his beginning spiral.
“Exactly. And that’s why me and Murtagh made that decision for you.” He placed a small kiss on his lips and shuffled even closer, letting them press together in one warm cozy line. “And I’m glad it was the right one. And that you’re back now. All of this isn’t the same without you.”
Something in his words snagged on Morzan’s new found worry. “Did you consider leaving your body and returning to the net?”
“Once. A month after you left. But I would have remembered you even if I had gone as far as back behind the blackwall.” He kissed Morzan again. “But that’s the past. You’re here now.”
Morzan wrapped an arm around the other. “And you’ll never get rid of me again.”
With a soft hum, Galbatorix returned the hold and started gently rubbing up and down his spine. “Promise?”
“I promise.”