Age was catching up to him, Rush had to admit. Weekly diagnostics checks were making him more and more wary of the inevitable- a sort of death. An end, but not in the way that could not be reversed… and perhaps that was what scared him the most. In a way, he welcomed the idea of shutting down. There would be no more nightmares to plague his thoughts, no more sorrow at the loss of friends and comrades -in battle or otherwise. In another way he dreaded it. He knew how much the deaths of those he'd cared about in the past tormented him. Would others miss him as much as he had his former brethren? Shaking off the thought, he continued through the day, holding his nose high with a fierce glare in his eye. To anyone outwardly, he would have looked as his usual self.

Only perhaps Neko could see what was happening. Rush had discovered that his true self had become so blatant -that he'd become so 'human' in nature and soul - that the dragon could hear his thoughts like a chime on a silent day. Then again, he thought, his systems' status were not quite the main focus as of late. It was true that they'd come up in thoughts many times, but Rush's constant influx of information and calculations were more than could be defined by a single main thought. While he contemplated this, he'd also noticed how Streak held himself today - a more tired look to his lithe form. The dragon had been lacking on sleep, but never told Rush why… it was a possibility that Neko had told the other dragon of the perils Rush was soon going to face.

A segment of blank thought entered Rush's head, clear of anything. No information input or export… nothing. It was a bit like static in a radio signal, but only for a second. Yet another of the warning signs of Rush's health and well-being. As soon as it passed, the Corsair closed his eyes and ran a quick diagnostics check once again. Nothing too major yet, but the minorities of the problem were grouping… and Rush knew they were going to become more frequent. To most, it might be alarming, but no sense of fear was showing itself. Yet.

The Corsair's creator, Felix, flashed through his mind. If he notified the car of his status, perhaps there'd be a way to reverse or at least slow the effects of aging. The facts were undeniable, however - though his programming was untouched, his body was breaking down. The pieces and parts that held him together and the many systems that made life possible were deteriorating. If Rush didn't get help from a seasoned mechanic in AI soon… there was no telling how fast these anomalies of nothingness would shut down his computer entirely.

It was only a few days later when Rush found himself incapable of taxiing out of the hangar upon waking. Streak had panicked at the event and called Dottie, who checked the Corsair into a hospital in Rochester. Rush knew that the repairs he required were beyond the point that even perhaps Felix could fix him. Every time he blinked he feared his computers would cease to work; freezing forevermore.

Streak and Neko stayed with him through the hours, only being shooed out when a mechanic came in to further examine the damage, and stall it if possible. Each time the reports came back even more bleak than the last, and Rush knew his time was very near over… yet fear did not set in. It was more a sense of calmness that did, and it was unnerving. As his systems continued to deteriorate, more and more of the emotions he seemed to obtain were slipping away. His very consciousness and sentience were fading, and it was unnerving he could not fear it. He was fighting every second just to feel like he was still something… or someone.

The confines of the hospital were not helping his case. After about five minutes of the 'static', as he'd come to know the white noise that cancelled all thoughts, he'd decided he'd had enough. He'd live out the rest of his life in somewhere he felt comfortable in… his own hangar. Perhaps there he could grasp onto sentience long enough to say goodbye. The mechanics working on preserving him were hesitant to see him go, but even they could not deny the fact he was so close to full system failure.

It was the next night when he awoke in pain. Beforehand nothing had felt wrong physically, but now? Now there was a feeling of burning, and not just under his hood. A quick scan revealed that it was happening. In less than two hours Rush didn't doubt he'd be gone. Or, rather, his emotions would be gone. He may still be sentient, but he'd not be much more than a vegetable. Less than five hours and even that'd be gone… less than twelve and every system would be shut down. His very essence -his programming- would be preserved, but his body? There would be no recovery from any of it. His circuits would be fried and computer dead to the world.

Streak was sleeping peacefully for once, the flicking of his ears the only sign that he was even somewhat alert to the world around him: this was the deepest of sleep a dragon could obtain, it seemed.

With a whisper, Streak startled awake, making Neko topple from the ice dragon's shoulders and onto the floor. Both dragons instantly realized what was going on just by the smell of the place. It was putrid -like a sick dragon's breath, full of smoke and illness. Streak climbed up and clung to Rush's nose fiercely, begging Rush not to go. In less dire times, the Corsair might have chuckled, but now he didn't have the capability to do so. Emotion was slipping from his grasp: the only thing he could feel currently was the pain as his systems began to shut down and the love he had for his companion… his brother. A few whispered exchanges were all Rush could manage before he felt something click off. His computers began to assess the situation. Memories were all he was working off now. He knew Streak cared for him, and yet… yet he couldn't seem to care about the dragon in return.

They were friends, but friends were simply an algorithmic event that one could get used to, then miss if they were torn away from you, be it by death or life. It wasn't true when he said he didn't care about Streak -he did care, but not in the way he felt he had once, somehow. Emotion eluded him, and he decided it was better left alone in the outer reaches of his current understanding. Rush was reminded of the plans he'd made for when he finally shut down and told Streak of them. There were many in Propwash who would take the dragons into their homes.

When he was done with that, he allowed himself to block visual contact, and appeared to fall into unconsciousness to the two dragons watching him. Instincts welled up inside of the Corsair, causing him to try to prolong life… to prolong sentience. But even that, his computers told him, would be taken from him before he'd be cast into oblivion. A few hours flew by and Rush was at the last of his resource reserves in preventing further deterioration of his systems. For a split second he opened his ears to the outside world to hear the cry of despair Streak had wailed out for the world. Shutting all auditory contact off without telling his computers to do so, he braced for his self consciousness to fade.

It was more like a violent click before a black nothing.

xXx

By the time Rush's sentience had been terminated, Streak's tears had run dry. He was draped over the now lifeless body of his friend as a sense of numbness washed over him. Neko had informed him hours ago that he could no longer hear Rush's thoughts, and to Streak Rush had been gone since then. He didn't have the strength to lift a claw to tell anyone, but also felt as if he couldn't bear to grieve alone. The Skipper had to know, and so did Tera and Clara… and Dottie and Sparky and Chug… and Dusty. Everyone had to know of Rush's fate, and yet…

Streak suddenly realized he had to tell one car over all others. A new energy and hope rose up into his soul and he jumped up, startling Neko. The dragon flew to the other side of the room, where the telephone sat untouched by anyone.

Gripping the phone in his claws, he dialed the one person who could fix what had happened.

The other end rang.