Chapter Text
Rocket tightened a bolt underneath the car, the metal creaking softly as he secured it into place. His hands were stained black with soot and oil by now; the grime worked into the lines of his fingers no matter how often he washed them. From somewhere deeper in the shop, he could hear his dad talking to the customer who’d brought the car in, probably discussing pricing or explaining repairs in that same flat voice he always used.
Rocket rolled himself out from under the vehicle with a quiet groan. The air outside from beneath the car somehow felt fresher despite the smell of gasoline hanging around the garage.
"Hey! Dad, 'm done."
Zuka glanced over from the front desk, expression as neutral as ever.
"Good. Faster than usual, too."
"Huh?"
Rocket frowned and looked over at the clock hanging near the wall. He finished 10 minutes faster. Neat
"Oh, damn. You’re right."
He pushed himself up, cracking his back loudly before heading over toward the small sink and mini fridge shoved in the corner. He grabbed a water bottle and took a long drink. He was seriously dehydrated.
The bell over the front door rang.
Rocket looked over automatically, expecting another customer with a busted engine or someone looking for directions. Instead, an unfamiliar inphernal wheeled in what looked like a barely-functioning hoverbike.
"Oh, thank god- Hey, Rocket, can you help me?"
The words came out before Rocket even had the chance to greet them. Rocket paused mid-drink.
. . .How did they know his name?
He lowered the bottle slowly, eyes narrowing just slightly as he looked the stranger over.
Yellow horns curved from the sides of their head, unevenly decorated with rings. A full-face helmet covered most of their features, the digital display showing bright yellow circular eyes over a black-and-white checkered lower half. They wore a yellow shirt over a dark bodysuit, complete with elbow and knee pads marked with Playground’s emblem. A chain swung lightly from their belt loop whenever they moved.
And the hoverbike itself looked wrecked.
It hovered unevenly above the ground, sparks occasionally snapping from the exposed front end.
"I- er, yeah, sure?"
Rocket stepped closer, still staring. There was something weirdly familiar about the inphernal standing in front of him, but he couldn’t place it.
"Accidentally knocked into a tree, eheh. . . Now she won’t fly properly."
The biker patted the side of the hoverbike awkwardly. Rocket deadpanned.
"Uh-huh. Knocked."
The digital eyes rolled dramatically.
"HEY! I’m still getting the hang of the damn thing, alright? Can you help me or not?"
"Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec."
Rocket slipped away toward the front desk, where Zuka was finishing up with the customer.
"Dad, someone’s at the door. Crashed into a tree. Can’t tell if the bike’s their gear or not."
"Bike?"
"It’s like. . . This weird hoverbike thing."
Zuka shrugged and followed him over just as the customer drove out of the garage. The biker gave a sheepish little laugh while Zuka silently stared at the destroyed front half of the bike.
"What. . . Happened."
"I knocked into a tree-"
"The entire front is smashed open."
"Please stop commenting on my poor decisions-"
Zuka rubbed at his temples.
"Rocket, get this guy started. I’ll check the back and see if we have parts for this."
"Wait, but-"
Too late. Zuka was already gone. Rocket sighed and turned back toward the biker.
"Sooo, what’s your name?"
"Ah- uh- right! Hoverbike!"
"Cool. Nice to meet’cha."
Hoverbike immediately stuck a hand out for a handshake. Rocket hesitated before taking it. The second their hands touched, that weird familiarity got stronger. like remembering a dream halfway through the day. They were weird, and also- hey wait-
"-How did you know my name?"
Hoverbike froze.
Just for a second.
Then they coughed awkwardly into their hand, digital eyes shifting away sheepishly.
"Um- enough about that! This ain't an interrogation after all!"
"No, seriously."
"Haha, anyway- uh- how much d’you think this’ll cost? Not that price matters much to me, but y’know. Hypothetically."
Rocket crossed his arms, seeing the deflection.
"Maybe 10,000 bux min. This thing’s messed up. I ain’t even seen first-timers wreck stuff this badly. You sure you know how to drive it?"
"W-well, of course! It’s my gear- er- yeah. My gear."
Rocket’s eyebrow twitched upward. That hesitation again. . . Hoverbike noticed immediately and pointed at him defensively.
"Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"That look."
"What look?"
"The 'I think you're suspicious' look."
"I mean, you are suspicious."
"I am NOT suspicious!"
Hoverbike stomped his foot like an upset rabbit, which made Rocket snort despite himself.
Weird guy.
Rocket crouched beside the hoverbike, pulling a screwdriver from his belt as he started removing one of the loosened side panels. The metal practically sagged off the frame the second the screws came loose.
". . . Yikes."
The damage was way worse up close. The front half of the bike had basically folded inward on itself. Internal wiring hung out in uneven bunches, and several mechanisms completely snapped out of alignment. One of the stabilizers sparked violently when Rocket nudged it with the screwdriver.
Hoverbike winced at Rocket's reaction,
"Careful with her."
Rocket glanced up at them.
"You crashed into a tree."
"Yeah, but you don't gotta bully her about it."
Rocket rolled his eyes and leaned further in to inspect the inside. The bike hummed strangely beneath his hands, the engine sputtering in uneven bursts like it was trying really hard not to die.
And somehow, despite how mangled it looked, it was still hovering. . . Barely. . . Rocket frowned harder. That wasn't normal. Most gear-linked vehicles would've completely shut down by now, the power within them usually draining from this much damage. Either this gear was pretty resilient, or there was something else going on. He carefully pushed a few wires aside, checking deeper into the damage. Sheesh. . .
Rocket stood back up and wiped grease onto the rag hanging from his pocket just as Zuka finally returned from the back room carrying a small box of parts.
"We have almost nothing compatible with this."
Zuka said flatly, and Hoverbike gave a half-hearted thumbs up.
"Awesome."
"That is the opposite of what I said."
Zuka stepped beside Rocket and took one look inside the exposed bike before sighing through his nose. Zuka crouched down to inspect the damage himself. Unlike Rocket, Zuka immediately started checking things with the kind of focus that meant he was already mentally calculating repairs.
After a long moment, he finally stood back up.
"This is going to take a while."
Hoverbike straightened slightly.
"How long is 'a while?'"
Zuka crossed his arms; this question was a usual thing he heard.
"If we order parts? Days. Weeks if the suppliers are slow, which they usually are, actually. Expensive."
A long stretch of silence filled the air as Rocket expected Hoverbike to groan or complain about the price. Instead, the biker went weirdly stiff, shifting uncomfortably.
". . . Weeks?"
"The front stabilizers are destroyed, half the wiring needs replacing, and the engine casing is cracked."
Zuka explained bluntly.
"You’re lucky it still runs at all."
Hoverbike laughed weakly.
"Haha. . . Yeaah, lucky."
Rocket tilted his head slightly. Something about that reaction felt off.
"Well, you can just leave it here while we work on it. "
Hoverbike immediately answered.
"No."
Too fast.
Rocket blinked.
". . . No?"
"I mean- uh-"
Hoverbike rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly.
"I. . . Should probably stay with it."
"For weeks?"
Rocket asked, genuinely confused by the implications.
"Yeah."
"Why???"
Hoverbike's digital eyes shifted nervously. Rocket exchanged a glance with Zuka, who looked mildly confused now. Rocket gestured toward the bike as he spoke.
"You know most inphernals just leave their gear here, right? Not like yours is a weapon-type. I assume you live around here, yeah?"
"Well, yeah, I do- kinda, but-"
Hoverbike saying "kinda" to his question is kept in the back of Rocket's mind. He'll think about the implications of that later.
"So why can't you? Unless you're one of those guys who're like, super attached to it."
Hoverbike froze again. Rocket was starting to notice they did that a lot.
"I just don't really like being apart from it."
Rocket stared at them, watching. Hoverbike kept glancing down at the bike every few seconds, like they were checking if it was still breathing. Honestly? That was making Rocket more suspicious, not less. Zuka rubbed his temples again, trying to figure out the logistics of this.
"Well, you're going to need to leave once closing time starts. It's better if we keep your bike here so we have more time to work on it."
Hoverbike clenched a fist, looking like he wanted to say something, but Zuka cut him off.
"Buuutt. . . If you're so worried about it, we can give it back so you can come back tomorrow when we're open again."
"Great! Yeah- that works!"
Zuka hums in confirmation about the plan as he guides the bike onto a holding rack so he can start to scope out what he'll need to order. Hoverbike looks relieved, not noticing Rocket side eyeing him. . .
He's gotta tell Sword about this dude.