Father
"Father..?" Hatchworth questioned again, looking into the deserted study of Peter A. Walter for the seventeenth time that day. He had been doing the same thing ever since he'd been released from the vault that had held him captive for many years a day earlier. His new and improved Blue Matter power core no longer leaked the strange substance and his tattered clothes had been replaced with a spiffy new outfit that matched the colour schemes his brothers wore, but he didn't really care. After such a long time of being alone with only his thoughts, being around others was...difficult, to say the least. There was only one person he cared to see: His beloved creator; his father.
Of course, he'd been pleased to see his fellow automaton friends in such good health-He had a hard time referring to them as his 'brothers'-but they were not on the top of his priorities. Not even an hour after being released from Peter A. Walter VI's examining table, he was off on his own, checking every room on every level of the extensive Walter Manor.
It was Rabbit who first saw the smaller automaton in the abandoned study, a look of utter confusion shaping Hatchworth's faceplates as he searched the empty drawers of the grand dark oak desk at the edge of the dark room.
"Hatchy..?" He asked quietly, stepping into the room that he sat in whenever the world became too much for him to handle. "Wh-wh-whatcha doin' in here?"
The automaton in question looked up from his search, having been so consumed by it that he hadn't picked up the heavy metallic clanking of Rabbit's unsteady footsteps. "Rabbit," He intoned, his voice as serious and, well...robotic as ever. "Rabbit, I must ask you something of dire importance,"
Rabbit was a bit taken aback, his own question having gone unanswered. He nodded slowly, trying to keep his movements as glitch-free as he could for Hatchworth's sake. When the 'bot had come to visit his "brothers" for the first time in years, Rabbit had almost broken him with an overload of new information and hugs.
"Uh, s-sure. Ask away-y," He said, getting more and more confused by the second.
Hatchworth's blue optics held his brother's mismatched ones with all the seriousness of the world.
"Rabbit, where is Father?"
And suddenly all the searching made sense, but Rabbit really didn't want it to. He didn't want to answer this question.
In all his years of being trapped in the vault, no one had bothered to tell the broken automaton in there that his father, Peter A. Walter, was dead.
The Spine wasn't sure what to think when Rabbit came barreling down the extensive staircase, dragging Hatchworth along by the wrist. He was, however, quite sure that whatever had sent his brother running was important. It had to be, considering the amount of strain put on his old joints by rapid movement.
"Spine," He started, steam puffing out of his vents at alarming rates as soon as he was close enough to the titanium automaton to be heard, "S-S-Spine, I gotta t-t-tell ya' somethin' really important," He was in complete earnest, a mood that hardly ever took over the fun-loving automaton.
The Spine stared hard into the oxidized faceplates of Rabbit, then at the confused face of Hatchworth who's wrist was still being held captive. He looked entirely too confused about the entire situation to be plotting something like Spine had originally suspected.
He nodded silently, setting down his copy of The Lord of the Flies and giving his full attention to Rabbit. "I'm listening." He said flatly.
Rabbit broke out into a rush of almost unintelligible words. Had The Spine not known the 'bot as long as he had, there was no way he could have uncoded the string of noises that left his brother's voice box.
"I just w-w-wasn't sure what t-to tell 'im. H-how 'm I 'sposed to explain somethin' l-l-like th-th-that? I me-me-meannnnnnnnnn, wh-wh-wh-wh-what am I 'sposed ta say 'bout somethin' l-l-l-l-like this? T-t-t-tell m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-me!" He couldn't help his rising voice or his severe string of verbal glitches, although he wished for the first time in a long while that he could. Talking about his Pappy was difficult enough, but talking about his death? The thought alone was too much for him to bear.
"Rabbit" The silver automaton snapped, his voice coming out harsher than intended, but his brother was truthfully worrying him. Whenever Rabbit got so worked up-which was a rare occurrence-he had a tendency to malfunction and...break things. "Calm down. You're working yourself up. Just tell me what you need to, okay?" He said, in a softer tone, placing his hand upon the now quivering robot's shoulder. He added his signature smile, hoping he wasn't making the situation worse.
Rabbit took a what would be calming breath if he had lungs to breathe with, a habit he had picked up from watching his Pappy do the exact same thing while piecing together his brother's namesake. "T-than-nks, The Spine. Okay...The Spine, I w-was walkin' 'round upstairs. Was gonna sit in Pappy's chair like I us-us-usually do. Saw Hatchy searchin' around the drawers 'n' such and I asked 'im what he was doin'. H-He didn't answer..." Steam streamed from his vents as he took another pause to keep himself calm, "Only asked...'Where's F-F-F-Father?'. He doesn't even kn-know...he doesn't even know, The Sp-Sp-Spine." He could feel himself beginning to lose all of his self-control.
The Spine's lips drew together tightly as the meaning of Rabbit's words took full-impact upon his consciousness, but made no other outward sign as to what he was thinking. "I see..." He said, standing in a very smooth and controlled manner, "Then it can't be helped. Come with me, Hatchworth," He turned his attention to the silent automaton and stood from his favourite armchair in one fluid movement. Anyone who had known Spine for the right amount of time knew that his actions became even more human when he was upset. "I think you deserve an explanation,"
He turned on his heel, using his long legs to their full ability with a fast and purposeful stride to the door-less entrance to the Manor, Rabbit and Hatchworth trotting silently behind in an effort to keep up. He led them down a path that every resident of the manor knew well: The path to the Walter family graveyard.
It wasn't a path that The Spine walked often, more out of personal preference than anything else. The graveyard simply wasn't a place that he enjoyed being. Even on the most beautiful of days, the graveyard seemed to have a veil of darkness surrounding it. Darkness was something he tried to avoid, for the fear of that darkness reaching into his very core and surrounding him was too much to bear. It had happened before, just after the news of Peter A. Walter the First's death had time to boil and fester inside his war-damaged mind. He hadn't spoken for weeks. It was the weakest he'd ever felt, and made a practice of avoiding anything that would ever make him like that again. But here he was, leading his already emotionally damaged brother to the very same fate.
He would have time to think about that later, though.
The heavy, rusted gates that opened into the graveyard groaned disturbingly in the gloom of the already overcast day, drawing back to let the three lone figures enter the burial site for every Walter.
The three walked on, silent save for the creaking and thumping of un-oiled joints and the occasional release of steam into the air. Marble graves lined each side of the cemetery, the dates of each death getting earlier and earlier as they climbed a steady incline to the top of a small hill. At the peak stood a lone grave, imposing and gloomy against the dark backdrop of the grey sky. On the well-maintained headstone, a few simple lines were written:
HERE LIES PETER A. WALTER
1864-1942
LOVING HUSBAND, FATHER, AND FRIEND
The Spine looked down on the small headstone silently, taking a moment to read the words he'd memorized already so long ago. Flowers were strewn on the ground, purple dyed carnations. Michael had been here very recently, it seemed, the flowers only slightly wilted. It was an odd quirk of the resident Mr. Reed to visit the cemetery every so often, just to pay his respects to the creator of his best friends. None of the automatons would ever admit it, but that odd quirk of his had endeared him to their hearts.
The taller automaton ushered Hatchworth to the front of the line, right in front of the headstone, laying a protective hand on the copper 'bot's shoulder.
Hatchworth read the twelve meager words. And re-read them. And again.
"I do not understand," He finally spoke, breaking the grave silence that had fallen upon the three brothers. "Why is Father in the ground? What do these two dates represent?" He didn't turn to look at the other two automaton's, but just kept his bright blue optics pinpointed to the slab of crumbling stone.
Rabbit and The Spine shared a solemn look, a silent question in the air between them. Who would tell Hatchworth that his beloved creator had died while he was trapped inside a vault with a crack that his father couldn't fix? Who had the strength to break their brother like that?
It was Rabbit who stepped forward, green and blue photo-receptors shining brighter in the increasingly darkening sky. His memory struggled to find the correct words to say, his jaw hanging open uselessly. "Hatchy..." He started, plunging ahead into his words, "While you w-w-were sitting in that vault...something happened. Pappy was already sick...and then...he just wasn't here anymore. The Spine, The Jon, and I were off f-f-fighting in the War when it happened. Pappy died," His usual accent was put on hold for the seriousness of the situation. He wasn't sure if he'd said the right thing, but he couldn't take back his words now.
To Hatchworth, the last two words felt like he was being impaled straight through his Blue Matter core, the pain bringing him to his hands and knees in front of the grey of the headstone. Steam released itself from his smokestack as an inhuman wail pierced the heavens from his voice box. He could no longer control his movements, grief taking over every aspect of his being as the realization of what Rabbit meant became ever clearer. Words mixed with every shriek that came from him, fast and nearly unintelligible.
"FATHER! FATHER! WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME! FATHER, WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH! YOU SAID YOU WOULD COME BACK FOR ME! YOU LEFT ME, FATHER, YOU LEFT ME THERE! FATHER!" The automaton's screams cut off in a terrible and sudden silence. His voice box had broken, now only a faint static emitting from his open mouth. Somehow, that was even worse than the screaming.
The Spine got to Hatchworth first, kneeling next to him and attempting to bring him back to his feet. The deafeningly silent automaton shoved his brother off of him, entire body shaking violently with the force of his bellows as they tried to process the increasing warmth provided by the over-heating boiler. He was destroying himself from the inside out and there was nothing The Spine could do about it. He tried everything, even shaking the smaller 'bot roughly in an attempt to snap him to a semi-sensible state. Nothing helped. There was no other choice but to power him down by force.
He held the struggling Hatchworth as steady as he could as Rabbit lifted a small panel on his back, shakingly typing in the code to override his brother's systems. Hatchworth's struggles ceased immediately as did the static. Another silence fell upon the three as the light drained from the limp 'bot's optics, his mouth still open and faceplates still contorted in a horrible shape.
If you happened to look at the private Walter Cemetery that gloomy, dark day, you would have seen something unbelievable. You would have seen a small, broken family of automaton brothers, one of them cradled between the other two. If you looked closer, you would see a forever broken son who would never receive the love from a father long past. You would have seen an old automaton wishing he had tears to shed for his creator. You would have seen a brother reliving the worst day of his life over and over again.
You would have seen the crushing bond between brothers and their father.
You would have seen humanity beyond that of any human.