Archive of Our Own

Even after they made it back to Maverick Hunter HQ, Axl was still laughing at him.

"I'm sorry!" Axl sputtered out when Zero swung at him. Flecks of slime splattered against the wall behind him. The wide, unrepentant grin he sported did not support his statement. "You look like a mouse caught in a glue trap! Just miserable."

"And me being miserable is funny to you?" Zero asked, voice low. He leaned in close to Axl's face, looming over him.

"When its not about something serious, yeah," Axl said. His hands were up in surrender while also subtly trying to maintain an invisible wall between himself and his partner. Zero was a mess. And Axl had just polished his armor the other day! He felt for the guy, really, but didn't want any of the glowing, neon green, sticky goop on his person, either.

Coating Zero, head to toe, were the remains of a Maverick's special weapon. Said Maverick, a large bear named Ursa Galora, had filled the fortress he guarded with all sorts of annoying traps to slow down the Maverick Hunters. But where Axl could hover over obstacles or copy the form of enemies better suited to traversing the area, Zero had been forced to face them head-on on foot. No tearing through the place like a wrecking ball for him.

Taking it slow, Zero had been so successful at avoiding traps, it almost made Axl jealous… until they actually caught up to Ursa, who revealed that his infamous "Bear Trap" weapon was actually just an extremely sticky substance that could be used to make opponents into sitting ducks for him to maul.

Naturally, Axl and Zero had avoided all of Ursa's attacks. Helps that the guy had been one of those big-and-slow Mavericks. Unfortunately, Ursa got the last laugh when he was offlined, as he exploded into a bunch of green, sticky goop, that was apparently from the remains of his weapon reservoir. Zero, who fought in close quarters with his sabre, got coated with it at the last possible second.

While they tried to get it off before coming back to base, they quickly realized it was a lost cause with only their bare hands. After getting him detached from the floor, Zero had suffered through a wet, sticky drive home on his ride chaser.

Axl was so glad it wasn't him. He couldn't stop giggling, which renewed every time he dared to glance at the sopping neon mess next to him.

Bringing up a slime-covered hand, Zero held his pointer finger and thumb very close together, almost pinching. At least, that's what Axl assumed. The slime was thick and viscous. It dripped slowly from the top of his hand in an all-obscuring veil, leaving the anatomy beneath it ambiguous.

"You're this close to getting sent to the repair bay in pieces," he said.

"I dunno. If I manage to trip you, I think you'd be stuck to the floor for a good while."

Zero growled, taking threatening steps towards him. Axl quickly scrambled back, doubling over in laughter at the harsh shrik, shrik, shrik sound of Zero's boots sticking to and peeling themselves off the hangar floor.

Axl tried to pull himself together and sound reasonable. "Look, which would you rather do: kill me, or clean that off?"

"Why limit myself to one?" Zero reached for his sabre. "I can multitask."

"Ah, but if you destroy me, who will distract everyone so you can make it back to your room in peace?" Axl asked. He stood up straight, wagging a finger in admonishment. "Unless you want everyone in HQ to see you right now? I offered to do the mission report on this one, remember?"

Axl was lucky that Zero's creator hadn't thought to give him lazer eyes, because the look he gave him with normal ones almost killed him on the spot. But Zero relented.

Zero's dramatic turnaround was decidedly less effective when covered in colorful goop, but he stomped away toward one of the lesser-used hallways.

Axl held out long enough to make sure that the Red Ripper was well and truly gone before pulling up a com line with his Navigator, Pallette, as fast as he was able.

Unfortunately, X's reaction to seeing Zero walk through the door wasn't much better than Axl's. His eyes widened when he saw Zero slam open the door and stomp into their shared living space. Zero paused after pushing the door shut behind him, meeting X's shocked face with a flat look of his own. His arms were locked at his sides, tense, whereas X brought a hand to his mouth. They stared at each other silently.

X broke first, doubling over in laughter.

Sighing in disappointment, Zero made his way toward the bathroom. He truly must have looked pathetic if even X could find his current state amusing.

"I'm sorry," X said through his chuckles. It was decidedly more sincere than Axl had been. He eyed the green, gloppy trail that Zero left on the floor. "Layer told Alia and she told me, so I already drew up a bath and grabbed a bunch of potential solvents for you to use from R&D. They're lined up on the counter from weakest to strongest. They're water activated. I have bigger bottles if they're somehow not enough to get it all off." He still looked amused, but his eyes hardened a little. "You okay, though?"

"I'm fine, just not enjoying how gross this feels," Zero said, throwing his best friend a small, reassuring smile. It quickly turned into a grimace as the movement shifted the slime on his face, dribbling down his upper lip and causing an involuntary shudder. He shucked off his armor as fast as he could, throwing the individual pieces into the corner of the bathroom.

X closed the door most of the way, peeking in through the crack. "I'll be out here, cleaning off the floor. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

It wasn't his responsibility, but X would always offer his help where he was able. It was one of the things Zero admired about him, his dedication. "Got it. Thanks."

X beamed at him before shuffling away, granting him privacy. Zero flung the last of his armor into the pile, capping it off with a dull smack of goop hitting goop. He swore the stuff pulsed in the light.

Normally, Zero hated the feeling of being out of his armor, as it left him vulnerable. Today, he felt nothing but relief as the subtle pressure squeezing him alleviated. Zero imagined it was like the soreness of human muscles after a workout, technically painful yet somehow satisfying. He then stripped down bare, tossing his bodysuit into a different pile to be incinerated before slowly lowering himself into the bath. He kept his ponytail, matted mass that it currently was, hanging outside of the tub to deal with separately. One problem at a time.

The water was hot, scalding. Simmering a little actually, slightly above recommended temperatures for reploids with human-like skin as it ran the risk of overheating their internal components, but Zero had better than average temperature tolerances and preferred it that way. X knew him so well.

Zero sunk down into the water until only his nose and the top of his head were visible. Most of the sticky material was stuck to his armor, but he still felt the phantom sensation of slime on his body—when armored up, it functionally was part of his body, complete with tactile feedback and all that entailed. Slowly, as the heat seeped into him, the sensors in his skin that interfaced with his armor started calming down and adjusting to his current reality. Cool tackiness against his skin was replaced with an evenly dispersed layer of pleasant warmth. As he relaxed, he wiggled his toes against the hard, flat, far end of the tub. Anything to make his body recognize that it was no longer coated in a material that made him want to scratch his outer layers off. It hadn't itched, but Zero's overactive proximity sensors had emphatically not enjoyed having an unidentified foreign and potentially hostile material directly attached to him for hours.

While some of the stickiness had seeped through his bodysuit and onto his bare flesh, it wasn't nearly as overwhelming as it could have been. Once sufficiently soothed by his water cocoon, Zero stuck out an arm and hissed at the much cooler air. He grabbed one of the solvents, pouring some into his hands before lathering it over his body like soap. Small droplets of slime disconnected from his body easily, and he watched with halfhearted fascination as the solvent continued to dissolve the material that floated to the top until it disappeared into tiny particles. The water turned green and murky. Made him feel like he was in a neglected, algae-ridden fish tank.

For the most part, the goop on his body was easily removed. He did have to try a few of the more extreme solvents on his chest and face to get the disgusting feeling to leave, but he quickly realized that he had a problem. His hair.

Not just the hair on his head. He didn't even want to think about dealing with that, just yet. But the green slime persistently did not want to leave his eyelashes and eyebrows, requiring him to essentially rub at individual strands to get it off. It did not bode well.

Dirty water splashed onto the floor as he stood and left the tub, heading to the mirror and wiping the condensation off so he could see himself. Rubbing at his eyes so much made them feel strangely tired, and the hairs in his eyebrows were pointing in every direction. After running some cold water from the sink on his fingers, he tried to smooth them down. He got them into a tolerable state before taking a deep breath and turned back toward the tub.

First, he drained the water and refilled it. This time, the water was outright boiling, far beyond what X had drawn for him. He grabbed the strongest solvent off the counter, wanting to get this done as fast as possible, before dunking as much of his hair into the water as he could. He poured a bunch of the solvent into the water before applying a large amount onto his hands and got to work.

Much like his eyelashes and brows, the slime seemed far more determined to stick to his hair than his body. Unfortunately, Zero's hair was incredibly long, and there was a lot of it. He spent over an hour repeating the process of draining the tub, refilling it, and scrubbing vigorously until the water was filthy. If he managed to get one area reasonably cleaned, the goop simply migrated to stick to a different area. He was getting the material off particle by particle, but he was not a particularly patient reploid and had very quickly grown frustrated with his lack of meaningful progress. His hair was still unbearably sticky, clumping together in wads that caught on his fingers like a knot that he would have to sit and attempt to untangle.

The still-glowing pile of armor in the corner taunted him, as he could tell that the slime was starting to slough off from nothing but the force of gravity onto the floor. His armor was cleaner than his hair by this point.

"How in the hell…" Zero said through gritted teeth.

X knocked on the bathroom door. "You okay in there? It's been a while. How's it going?"

"It started off pretty well," Zero said. Pausing his ministrations, he rested his forearms on the side of the tub. "But this stuff is not coming off my hair. Look at my armor! I haven't even touched it, and after spending hours with this crap on, now it decides to fall off? I drove home in that and it didn't budge."

The door creaked as X peeked at the corner of the room. "Oh, that's interesting! I read a little about Ursa Galora's Bear Trap weapon. Apparently, the goo gets stickier if its charged with static electricity. It was designed that way so it'd stick to living things and reploids, which produce it naturally, but easy to clean up an area after use, since it wouldn't stick to most terrain for long." X's arm appeared from the other room, throwing a set of comfortable house clothes on the floor near Zero. "Since you took your armor off, it probably lost charge and became less sticky. I could've waited to clean the floor, then."

"Great," Zero gritted out. "That doesn't help with my hair. I can't just take it off."

He wouldn't even want to. Maybe it made him vain, but so be it. He just wanted the goop out. He could feel it stuck between individual hairs, and it was slowly driving him mad.

X's hand appeared once again from behind the door to give him a 'hurry up' gesture. Zero slipped on some pants.

Then X poked his head in. He chewed on his lower lip a little, a telltale sign that he had something to say but thought his partner wouldn't like it.

"What's your idea?" Zero asked. There was little he wouldn't consider, at this point.

Gripping the side of the door, X spoke tepidly. "I know you hate having your hair touched, but maybe I could help? We might be better off trying to brush than scrub at this point."

"Wouldn't that just increase the amount of static electricity?"

"Not if its wet, and better to get it stuck to a brush that we can throw away," X said reasonably. One of his hands popped off the door, gesturing. "Plus, two sets of hands scrubbing what we can't transfer would still probably be faster than one. You're not covered in globs of the stuff anymore, but your hair still has a green sheen to it."

"Don't remind me."

Tempting thought, but X was also correct in that Zero despised having his hair touched. It was another proximity thing, mostly. His hair had a large number of fibers, but not all of those fibers were strictly hair. It actually housed a large number of thin, hairlike strand sensors and malleable wires that probably had a purpose but mostly sent Zero a bunch of painful garbage noise that he had learned to ignore. Occasionally they would flare up like a struck nerve, instantly putting Zero on edge, and he often had no idea what caused it. If he had less control over himself, then Zero knew it could cause him to lash out. Violently.

Not that he'd ever told anyone that. It was safer for everyone to just not touch any of it.

Zero argued with himself internally. He was already agitated, but also desperate. If there was anyone in this world he could trust to help with this, it was X. Hadn't he already proved it, without even being asked?

"Okay," Zero acquiesced.

The toothy smile X sent him practically blinded him after staring at murky water for an hour. "Let me hunt down some brushes, and we'll get started, okay? Be right back!"

Zero took the time to squeeze the water out of his hair, frowning when his hands stuck to the strands. It was still so gross, and the sensors in his hair did not enjoy that sensation at all. A prickle went up and down his scalp. This was going to suck.

He refilled the tub again with a moderately hot temperature and patiently waited for X to return.

"Okay, some of the Navigators volunteered old brushes of theirs," X said as he pushed open the bathroom door with his hip, arms full.

"That's more than I expected you to find," Zero said with a tilt of his head. Not that he'd given it any thought.

X dumped the brushes on the ground next to him. "Me too. Several of them said they had more at home, but we need to get through this as soon as possible, so I hope this will be enough."

Zero picked up a hard, straight brush with large teeth. "Don't even speak of failure. This will work."

"Right!" X said brightly. "Let's start with the wide ones and work our way to the smallest. Doesn't really make sense, the other way."

They let Zero start on his own, to see if brushing had any effect. While most of the large clumps of goo had been addressed, the fact that there was a noticeable line of residue where Zero stopped the brush gave X confidence that they were on the right track. Zero methodically brushed in silence while X sorted the other brushes into categories and pulled out a handful of hair ties.

"What're those for?" Zero asked.

"Well, when we do manage to get part of your hair clean, we should probably keep it separated from the rest of it, right?"

"Makes sense."

They'd have to let Zero do the tying, if only to keep him from getting jumpy, but that was completely manageable.

After some debate on the logistics, they decided it was best to separate Zero's hair into sections ahead of time. Much easier than trying to figure it out in the moment. To facilitate this, they spent quite a while scrubbing at the hair closest to Zero's scalp, giving themselves a nice clean base to work from. Zero stoically endured the feeling of X's fingers gliding against the back of his head, where he himself couldn't see. The motions were firm, yet gentle, but Zero still found himself more aware of X's finger pads than he had ever been aware of anything else in his life. He gripped the edge of the tub worryingly tight to keep himself from squirming.

Somehow, they got it clean, meaning Zero was free to section off bands of hair. His hair was far too long to fit through normal ties without making everything a sticky, knotted nightmare, so they had to settle for twisting the base and clipping each chunk in place with alligator clips. When he was done, it was like having a dozen, thinner ponytails sticking out of every direction of his head. He certainly looked even more ridiculous than before.

"Hair is super thin," X said suddenly. "I wonder if we're struggling so much because its so easy for static charges to jump between individual strands? Minute enough that you wouldn't ever notice, but enough to keep the slime sticky."

Zero hummed. "My hair has something akin to live wires in it, so most other people probably wouldn't be as affected as I am." Just his luck. After tying off the last section, he shook his head, making sure none of the hair would fall loose as they washed it.

Good enough. Zero gave X a thumbs up over his shoulder.

"Sounds reasonable," X said. Then he grabbed a brush, holding it out in front of him where Zero could see. "Ready for me?"

"…as I'll ever be."

X was not filled with confidence from that answer, but he knew better than to probe his partner further. He reached out, taking a section of hair that Zero partitioned for him and gently ran the brush through it.

Zero tensed up instantly.

"Bad?" X asked in a whisper.

"Not bad. Just. A lot." Zero said.

Which was true. Understated, but true. Even that tiny swipe sent signals through his hair. Instead of stopping at his scalp, the feeling shot straight down his spine and out to every extremity. He wanted to curl up into a ball and jump through the ceiling at the same time.

He also wanted X to do it again, but feared that if the other reploid did, he would explode on the spot.

Taking a deep, uneven breath, Zero steeled himself for what might be the strangest-feeling event of his life. "Keep going."

X wavered. He readjusted his loose hold on the section of hair—something Zero was deeply, uncomfortably aware of—before continuing to drag the brush to the end. Once done with the first pass, he dipped the brush into the bathwater and shook it, letting the solvent help break it down and clean off the brush.

A thought struck him. "Should we reapply the solvent between every stroke?"

"Probably," Zero said, forcing his voice to be calm. "No sense in half-assing it."

"Got it." Obediently, X pulled one of the bottles of solvent closer, pouring some more on the brush before repeating the motion.

It was just as overwhelming the second time.

"Nngh…"

He hated this. No, he didn't, but Zero wanted to hate this. It was so awkward, and it felt so strange, but it also felt kind of nice? Mostly, it was confusing. The sensors in his hair insisted that he was feeling every possible thing at once, buffeting him with waves of nonsensical data. He was hot, he was cold, it was painful, it was soothing. It was like one long, drawn-out strike against his funny bone, so unlike anything else he had experienced that he literally couldn't comprehend it no matter how he tried to rationalize it. More than anything, it was insistent and unable to be ignored.

Against his will, he found himself hunching forward over the rim of the bathtub, trying to escape.

"Zero?" X asked, voice rising in concern.

"I'm fine," Zero gritted out.

"I really think you're not," X said plainly, gently setting Zero's hair down. "We're not in a hurry."

"You're not in a hurry," Zero fired back. "I want this over with."

Instead of arguing, X let Zero breathe, panting as he leaned over the bathwater.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," X said eventually. "I can still help out by keeping the solvent flowing, but maybe we should leave the actual brushing to you."

Zero head snapped back up. "No, just... say something."

"Why?"

X was his best friend and most reliable partner, but sometimes, his irreparable need to understand every detail of the world around him grated on Zero's nerves. Still, he fumbled for a moment, trying to put his feelings into words the other could understand.

"I'm not used to it at all, but I think we can do this," Zero said firmly. "It feels bigger than it is because its new. I just need a distraction."

X's face pinched. "If you insist," he eventually said, tapping the handle of his brush against the tile floor. "But you start brushing first, then I'll join you."

Zero nodded. His arms stopped cooperating, moving jerkily as he grabbed one of the partitions again, but he quickly smoothed things over once he actually got to brushing. This was familiar enough to him. On very, very rare occasions he would braid his hair if he needed to keep it contained, and it was insultingly easy to fall into a relaxed mindset while doing it.

He got so involved, he almost forgot that X was there with him.

X spoke as his fingers made contact with Zero's hair. He ignored the way Zero jumped, keeping his eyes trained on his partner's face even as his hand slid down his hair like a ribbon, getting into position. "I always wondered why your creator gave you so much of this."

Probably because there was a bunch of potentially malicious equipment hiding in it, but Zero kept that thought to himself.

The silence didn't deter X. "My creator made sure to keep mine short enough to hide it under my helmet. Not sure if I should thank him for that," he said with humor. It was kind of an inside joke—X's helmet hair was legendary between them. When he took his helmet off, the top of his head fluffed up like it had never heard of gravity. The sides were short enough that they were never a problem. His bangs were just long enough for the tips to get into his eyes when he tilted his head forward, and they did so now, covering his expression as he slowly brought in his brush once more.

He carried on conversationally. "Have you ever thought about why you were designed this way?"

"Not really." Zero kept his eyes firmly on his own work. "I make my own destiny. What was intended for me never mattered."

X's laugh was short but full of heart. "Such a you answer." Then, he went back to brushing. The sensation tingled up and down Zero's body as X formulated his next thoughts. "You know, humans prescribe some pretty deep meaning to their hair, culturally. I imagine some of that symbolism transferred to us when we were being built."

"How so?"

"Well, humans can't just install hair on their head. It takes time for it to grow." X paused for a moment, delving a finger into the hair he was working on to split it in twain and dragged down until he found the clump he was looking for. He ignored Zero's twitching in response. "Meaning that, historically, hair was a precious commodity and a sign of status. The poor did not have the time or resources to keep their hair luxurious like this."

"There's nothing fancy about my hair aside from it being long," Zero said as he attacked his own.

X leaned in conspiratorially. "Not true! The length is the luxurious part! Do you have any idea how much maintenance this takes to achieve?"

"Yeah," Zero said as he turned his head to face him. "I may not be human, but this still takes maintenance. I completely understand why humans have entire jobs dedicated to making hair play nice. Its a wonder they don't all get frustrated and shave themselves bald."

In his seat, X practically vibrated. He loved moments like these, teaching moments where he could share his endless factoids about how fascinating life could be. Zero could feel that excitement transfer up through the loose grip the other had on his hair. Zero very nearly started shivering sympathetically.

"There's a practice from the middle ages I always thought was neat. Communication used to be so difficult—"

Zero cut in like the blade he often was. "Some would say it still is."

"Oh, hush. You don't get to say that when you're typically one of the ones people struggle to communicate with," X said with an eye roll. In a more serious setting, such a topic would likely branch out into being a real lecture, with a point behind it about Zero's less-than-forthcoming tendencies. But now was not time for an argument. Best to keep it light. "Anyway. Communication used to be difficult, because it was complicated for messages to traverse long distances. A letter, the most effective means of communication, could take months to get to a destination. But, humans are incredibly sentimental creatures, too. So sometimes, when one was expected to go on a long journey, lovers would cut off locks of their hair and send it with their beaux as a gesture of love, so they'd always be with them in some way. Like a trinket to remember them by. Isn't that sweet?"

Freezing in place, Zero stared resolutely at the wall directly in front of him. "If anyone tried to cut my hair, for any reason, then they have earned a free burial."

"Ah, c'mon," X wheedled, dunking the brush into the bath with a loud, pointed splash. "I think there's something to be said for sending part of you with someone. You've done the same for me, with your sabre."

"Yeah, but that's not a body part," Zero said, slightly horrified. "Would you feel the same if one of your human pals gave you a jar of their toenails? That used to be part of them, too."

X's laugh was deep and bounced off the walls. "Okay, you've got me there." Chuckling to himself, X swept the brush through Zero's hair several times, humming as his fingers began threading through with minimal resistance. "But, seriously, you can't think of a single reason why you were designed this way? Everything else about you is so… efficient. And yet the hair is so bombastic. There's no way it was anything but a deliberate choice."

"Humans also like aesthetics," Zero said. "You've mentioned before that many reploids are designed to resemble 'idealized' humans. Maybe my design was simply what my creator considered ideal. Hair and all."

"Definitely possible," X said softly. Then the two of them fell into silence once again.

As predicted, once Zero grew used to the sensation of his partner brushing his hair, he no longer felt the urge to tear apart the room to get away from the feeling. Now he had the opposite problem, the repetitive motions lulling him into a sense of complacency. He had gone straight from a Maverick operation to a long drive to a long cleaning session, and his energy reserve practically begged him to do something about it, lest he enter an involuntary sleep cycle. But he didn't want to move.

If he asked, X would get up and grab him an e-tank to drink.

He hesitated. For once in their hectic lives, as annoying as the situation was, the mood was… peaceful.

There were many things in this world that ruined his partner's fragile hope for the future. Endless Maverick attacks, the reoccurring nightmare that was Sigma, natural disasters that no one could truly do anything to avoid… Zero loathed to be one of the things that caused his best friend and partner pain, no matter how small and inconsequential.

Though, if he thought a little harder, maybe roping him in to help with a banal, obnoxious task like this could be viewed as taking advantage of his kindness. Zero may not be hurting him, but he was wasting his best friend's precious time.

Zero warred back and forth, both wanting to handle things on his own but unable to dismiss his equal desire to have X beside him. Even and especially for the mundane things, like cleaning his hair. It didn't usually bother him, but Zero knew himself to be terminally selfish. The most he could do was never demand anything from X that he himself wouldn't do for him.

"It's a sign of love, I think," X eventually said. The words were quiet, like he was sharing a secret. "This amount of hair could not have been done out of mere obligation. It would have been a pain to install, so they must have wanted you to have it very badly. Furthermore, they had to have known it would require maintenance after the fact. Hair this long usually requires intervention from another person at some point. Which meant that, in some way, your creator expected—or hoped—that you'd be taken care of. Or at least," and here, X stopped, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth for a moment like that would stop the words. "That's my read of it."

"…I see," Zero said thoughtfully.

Privately, Zero thought X was projecting.

Zero firmly believed that he had been created with about zero good intentions, existing for no greater purpose than to destroy everything in sight. There was nothing to suggest that Zero existed for altruistic reasons, like how X's creator had designed him to bridge the gap between humans and machines. In fact, the hair could be seen as a sign of his creator's shortsightedness, prioritizing dramatics over practicality, as any mindless death machine inherently was. "Destroy everything" with no followup was a piss-poor plan, after all, and suggested that his creator lacked a real end-game after 'winning' some big, climactic battle that had never ended up occurring.

He also believed that his partner, ever the bleeding heart, simply wanted to will positivity into this frustrating, senselessly combative world. No matter how hard everything around them tried to prove him wrong, X insisted that things could be better and kinder, even when all available evidence suggested otherwise.

But like Zero said earlier: he was not beholden to the intentions of some dead madman he'd never met.

"It's a nice thought," Zero eventually added. His brush was now gliding through his partition of hair, smooth and clear. He wasn't really sure if he deserved any of this—X's help, or even being the subject of his partner's more optimistic ideas. But it also didn't matter. If X wanted to make the world a better, more peaceful place, then Zero would stand beside him and help make it happen.

While they were talking, they had kept at the brushing of Zero's hair. When he consciously checked back in on his progress, he was surprised to see that the section of hair he'd been working on had been returned to its original, healthy and bright blond coloration. The brush was able to slide from top to bottom without so much as a snag.

"Hey, it worked," Zero said with only a teensy amount of awe.

"Power of teamwork," X said brightly. "Now we each have to do this about… a dozen more times."

Though he could not see himself from his current angle, Zero shot a terrified glance towards the bathroom mirror. He could still imagine how ridiculous he looked, with geysers of hair coming out of head in every direction. "We're going to be here all night, aren't we?"

X roughly pat him on the shoulder. "I have nowhere else to be." Then he scrunched up his nose. "Maybe we should call Axl to bring us some food, though."

"My communicator is in my helmet."

"I'll get it, no worries!" X said as he stood and bounded out the door to retrieve his own helmet. With the door now wide open, a cold draft blew in. Zero shuddered, shifting his position so that he touched as little of the wet tile and bath as he could.

Perhaps, now that some time had passed, Axl would stop finding his state amusing and actually help?

…who was he kidding.

Zero braced himself for another round of humiliation by reaching into the warm water and pulling the plug. Rinse, repeat. The sound of draining water droned ominously until it sputtered itself into a silent death. Then he shoved the plug back in, turning on the water yet again to drown out the sound of the call X was making in the other room.

As many times as it takes to get this done, he supposed.

Axl waltzed into the bathroom with a pile of boxes and bags so tall, he could barely see over it. Naturally, all this did was delay his reaction to Zero's current Betty Spaghetti-style hair. Once the sight grazed his eyes, he wheezed painfully, the air punched out so hard that he practically threw his cargo onto the floor as he crumbled like a falling building. X rushed forward to protect the food, catching everything except the one package that Axl pressed against his hip like it would save him as he sank to his knees. Doubled over, he howled as he slapped the floor with his free hand.

"It's not that funny," Zero said as he tugged the brush through one of the ponytails on his head. His eyes remained fixed on his task. It would be pointless for him to direct his attention toward his younger colleague. Nothing would stop the boy from laughing, but he felt compelled to say something, all the same.

"This is better than I ever could have dreamed," Axl spat out in chunks, voice high and watery.

"Are you crying?" X asked, carefully tilting the younger reploid's head in his direction.

"Maybe! That's not what's important right now!" Sucking in deep breaths, Axl pulled himself together and adjusted his stance, sitting formally as he turned to face Zero directly. "Sorry about earlier. Probably shouldn't have antagonized you so much…"

Zero scoffed. "This would probably land a lot better if you hadn't done it again the second you walked in."

"Hey, that's different! I wasn't expecting you to look like a hair-filled water spout when I got here," he said. Glancing down at the box in his lap, he quickly spun it around before holding it out in front of him. "Anyway, I figured a peace offering was in order, so I asked Pallette to help me whip something up."

Audibly, X cooed. "That's very kind of you, Axl."

Axl blushed, as he often did when he received a genuine complement from one of his heroes. He rubbed his upper lip with a finger. "Heh, maybe you're rubbin' off on me?"

"If its food, let's have some. We've been at this for way too long," Zero said, putting everything down. He desperately needed a break.

Axl grinned as he whipped the cover off of his box. "I live to serve," he said.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Inside the box was a large serving of gelatin, bright green and glistening. Mocking. Zero stared at it, disturbed not by the fact that Axl went out of his way to keep making fun of him, but shocked at how accurately he was able to recreate the color and texture of the slime in the form of something that was ostensibly supposed to be edible.

Zero lifted his head, staring the boy in the eyes. "Were you planning to throw this at me, or something?"

"Ah, c'mon, I'm not that mean," Axl said, face stuck in his patented shit-eating grin. "I prefer to think of it as a 'themed' dessert for all our hard work today."

"A 'themed dessert,'" X wondered aloud. From his position behind Axl, by the rest of the food, he could not see the abomination that Axl had just presented. "What does that even mean?"

Abruptly, Zero stood. He walked around the smug Axl and confused X in a wide berth before crouching down next to his long forgotten armor. He reached out a hand and clasped the hilt of his sabre before standing tall again and activating it. The other two Hunters barely had time to register the sight before Zero lunged, swinging the blade toward Axl's face.

"Hey, wait—"

Of course, X and Axl were no slouches. X sprung forward, tackling into Zero's torso to halt his momentum, whereas Axl leaned back to dodge the swing. What they had both underestimated was how slick the bathroom floor was. Zero had not been particularly careful about where he was getting the water, after all, and so instead of completely stopping Zero, X himself skidded into Axl like a car struck by a much larger vehicle. This, in turn, caused Axl to slip and fall backwards completely. Instead of bashing his skull into the floor, his head landed in the gelatin box, plastering the back of his head—and more importantly, his hair—with green sludge.

"Ow!"

"Oh, like that actually hurt," Zero said as he flicked his sabre back off. "At least yours will wash off with regular soap."

"Zero!" X cried. Zero could feel the vibration of his voice in his core. X's arms were still wrapped around his waist. His admonishing look was not the least bit effective when his cheek was squished up against Zero's abdomen, looking up at him like a tiny, bright-eyed, indignant kitten.

Zero did not need to defend himself, but he decided to do so anyway. "This is for his own good. I very seriously considered dealing with his attitude during training tomorrow. Instead, I'm giving him a lesson in empathy. Figured you'd be on board for that."

Sighing, X let him go. "That's not what that means, but I guess he was actively antagonizing you." On his knees, he waddled over to where Axl was fruitlessly trying to pull the goop out of his hair with his fingers. As if he hadn't personally seen how ineffective that technique was earlier that day, with something of this consistency. X guided the boy towards the tub by his elbow. "Guess you're cleaning up in here, too."

"Hey, he doesn't need any help," Zero said. There's no way the gelatin was as bad as the Maverick weapon goop, unless Axl did something else to it… which was entirely possible if he enlisted his Navigator's help, he realized.

But Zero needn't have worried.

"I never said I was going to help him," X said. "He can share the bathtub we're using. But he's definitely going to get his hair clean before we're done with yours, so he can apologize properly by cleaning off the last of your armor and the bathroom floor, while we're working."

Axl jumped in place, catching the tail end of their words through his distraction. "Hey! I never agreed to that!"

"And he won't complain. After all, we're so grateful for him helping us out of the goodness of his heart, right? That's why he stopped by," X insisted.

For a moment, Axl spluttered, trying to defend himself. However, his biggest weakness in any argument was X's disappointed face. It only took a moment of looking between X's stern expression and Zero's merciless, unforgiving glare to remind him that there was no feasible way out of this one with both his limbs and his pride in tact.

"…I did bring you guys actual food, you know. Doesn't that count for something?"

At that, X gave him a genuine, if subdued, smile. "Thank you. We'll have some while you get started, alright?"

Axl grumbled, but he knelt down by the bath and started to aggressively splash water over his head.

"Are you trying to clean yourself or drown?" X asked before leaving him to it.

On the other side of the room, Zero sat down serenely next to the pile of food. X copied him. Together, they watched Axl attempt to speedrun hair-cleaning.

Reaching around behind the pile of food, X gently grasped some of Zero's hair, rubbing his thumb against the clean, smooth texture. He was doing that a lot, now that he was allowed to touch it, Zero noticed. Perhaps he feared that he'd never get another opportunity.

"Do you think we're being a little too harsh?" X asked quietly.

"Nah. Can't be too gentle with him. He won't respect us if we baby him," Zero said. He flicked open one of the boxes, pulling out a reploid-specific bismuth-flavored doughnut that he recognized from the Maverick Hunter canteen but had never tried. He stuffed it into his mouth. "Plus, he started it."

For what had to be the hundredth time that day, X laughed, innocent and clear. This time, Zero didn't flinch when he felt it travel down his spine like lightning.