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Annoying it was to live life as a Caretaker. A Carepad, to be specific.
Everyday was all the same. Rest in the bunker until you got thrown into a round. He was lucky if he got Artful. Less casualties to deal with. He would heal civilians during and after rounds, just as everyday. Just as normal.
Except it didn’t feel normal.
Not to him at least.
Carepad took a seat beside Bonuspad, who eagerly greeted him. His stupid smile, his stupid hard hat, his stupid optimism, and his stupid accent. Maybe he liked what was so stupid about him, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. They were more like… acquaintances in Carepads eyes. Bonuspad shifted slightly at Carepad's silence, though he probably should’ve gotten used to it by now. He still asked anyway. Any good friend would.
“Hey.. ya ok? You’ve bin’ awfully quiet.” Bonuspad spoke up, his accent laced with some concern.
“…”
Carepad didn’t answer right away. He usually never did. Bonuspad didn’t exactly fully expect him to reply. A moment too long of awkward silence finally had Carepad talking.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
His answer was cold, statical. Final. Bonuspad flinched slightly at the coldness in Carepad's tone of voice and let out a shaky sigh.
“Ya know I’m always here to talk, Care. I can tell sums wrong.. just tell me, please..”
Just stop talking please, Carepad thought. He didn’t NEED to talk. He didn’t NEED to feel fine. He was alive. And that’s all that mattered.
That’s all that mattered.
That’s all that.
That’s all
That..
Th…
“What’s it like to be you?”
“What do ya mean..?”
“What I mean is what is it like to be a Bonuspad.”
Bonuspad hesitated. Why was Carepad asking this? He was technically also a Bonuspad himself, so why was he concerned about what it was like being a normal one?
“Well, I s‘pose it’s nun much.. I just build an agility pad and that’s about it, I guess. Why are ya askin’ this..? Ya know yer also technically a Bonuspad…”
“I want to be like you. I don’t like being a Carepad. It’s annoying to see dead and dying civilians every day. Pouring alcohol and shoving gauze into wounds isn’t the prettiest of sights. It causes problems. Too many problems. I don’t like it.”
Carepad looked away from Bonuspad. Not like he was looking at him, anyways. He just turned his head fully away, not daring to even glance at someone so caring and worried and understanding as Bonuspad. He never understood why Bonuspad cared as much as he did about someone like him. Bonuspad finally spoke up after some thinking, his voice lower and softer now.
“I.. I see… ya don’t like yer role as a Caretaker..”
“Yes.”
“… mm.. I understand.. to be stuck as somethin’ ya don’t wanna be… I guess it would be difficult to live like that.”
“Again, yes. I do not understand how Caretaker can live like this. How she could love being the only other provider to a group of dysfunctional civilians like us.”
“Well, maybe because it makes her feel special…”
“… what?”
Carepad didn’t understand what Bonuspad meant. Special? What was special about providing food and shelter to a group as chaotic as this one? For once, Carepad couldn’t grasp an idea like this.
“Well, yeah! It ain’t everyday ya get someone as kind and wonderful as Caretaker. The civilians love her, and she loves' em’ back. I dunno what it’s like to be like you or her, but I do know there ain’t a whole lot of Caretakers compared to Bonuspads like myself. Ya should take advantage of that. Take advantage of being special the way ya are as a Carepad. Just go be yer own person, Care.”
Carepad was, for once, at a loss for words. No one had ever told him that before, nor did he even think about it once. So much time wasted complaining and so little time to just sit and think for once. What was he doing with his life?
And more importantly, why did Bonuspads word affect him so?
They were just words of encouragement. Nothing special. So then why did he feel this feeling in his stomach he couldn’t get rid of no matter the amount of medicine he could take. Was it something about Bonuspad himself that had Carepad feel so tingly? No, that wouldn’t be right. That couldn’t be it. They were only acquaintances, nothing more. He couldn’t allow himself to feel such feelings for Bonuspad. He wouldn’t allow it.
But even then, he could stay up all night long thinking about that stupid smile on his face. The way his clothes were always just messy enough for Carepad to notice. How his glasses almost always ended up broken after every round, and how he would run to him to get them fixed. How Bonuspad would sometimes catch him staring just a bit too long, then invite him over to talk. As friends. Friends…
A tear rolled down Carepad's cheek before he could do anything about it. Then another. And another. More and more fell from his eyes as he finally, FINALLY looked over at Bonuspad. He could see him as clear as day. He could map out every detail of his face, and never get tired of it. Carepad let out a defeated sigh as he rested his head on Bonuspads shoulder.
“Gott, ich hasse dich…”
“Heh.. always glad to help a buddy out.”
Minutes dragged out in silence, the only sound cutting through was the occasional sniffle from Carepad. The peacefulness didn’t last very long, though. A crash was heard somewhere in the bunker with shouting that sounded like Taunt. Couldn’t even get a moment of quietness around here.
And maybe, for once, Carepad liked it.
“A’ight, up ya big baby. Hearin’ some shoutin’ from the others.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear them. Can’t catch a break around here.”
“Well, ya DID call us dysfunctional.”
“Oh, den Mund halten.”
Carepad elbowed Bonuspad in the side as they stood and started walking towards the rest of the group to help settle down whatever was going on. Bonuspad could only laugh at Carepad's reaction. Annoying, his laugh was.
But just this once, it was manageable.
Just this once.