R2-D2 did not panic. Panicking was his counterparts job, and he did a damn good job at it too. R2 was one to keep his head on straight (figuratively speaking of course, due to the fact that his head was meant to spin). He came up with the plans. He took risks. He was not panicking just because of this new form. No. Not at all.

Shit.

He slowly raised himself to a sitting position once again. He wasn't human. There was no way that he was human. R2 let his eyes fluttered closed, focusing on the faint whir of his inner mechanics. He could feel familiar circuitry. So he was still a droid then, at least there was that bit of comfort.

Staring down at his new legs, which were covered by a thin white sheet, he wondered how to use them. He had seen legs work countless times, but it was safe to say that he did not know how they worked. R2 twitched the legs experimentally, berating himself when he jumped slightly at the sudden movement and strange sensation of having extra appendages.

Tanned fingers gripped the starchy sheet, and R2 relished in the fact that he could actually tell what the sheet felt like. Even his fingertips were sensitive to touch, feeling the texture of the covering as he threw the blanket to the side, the fabric brushing against his hand as it fell to the floor. The legs in front of him, covered by crisp white pants, didn't quite reach the end of the bed.

R2 glanced back to the door for a moment before hesitantly swinging his legs over the side of the bed, automatically flinching at the strange feeling. As he slowly pushed up onto his new feet, he suddenly realized just how heavy he was. With sensations running through this new body, and the entirety of his upper half only supported by the two stilt-like appendages now beneath him, R2 found the whole experience very uncomfortable.

With his first steps, the new unsteady legs buckled, forcing him to fling his arms out in an attempt to keep himself standing up. He was a little shaky to say the least, but damn him if he was going to let a little bit of inexperience stop him. It wasn't in his nature.

The trip to the door was slow going, sometimes forgoing actually picking up his foot in a step in favour of taking the easier root of simply letting his foot slide against the floor. With his centre of gravity now significantly higher than it had been before, he felt his balance wavering, one hand seemingly permanently affixed to his middle as though it could keep him upright. Just looking at it, the door had seemed much closer than it turned out to be.

Within a few feet of the opening, the door slid open, covering neatly tucked into a perfectly sized slit in the wall. Grabbing onto the frame, R2 cautiously leaned out of the room. With his line of vision, he quickly found himself getting frustrated, having to turn his entire body to get a good look down each of the unsettlingly pure white hallways. He slid one foot forward, pausing as a jumble of voices began to fill the empty space. He didn't recognize the strange dialect.

His new hand clung to the wall, gliding against the smooth surface as he blindly made his way towards the strange voices. Each step was a new experience, each sensation, from the feeling of the floor against his bare feet, to the rocking motion that came along with the act of walking. Briefly, R2 wondered just how C-3PO was able to keep himself upright, especially with joints that had a limited range of movement. He commended the droid as he noticed his own difficulty in controlling a body with better mobility. But you can damn well bet that he would never say such a thing aloud.

Speaking of, he thought as he peered around the next corner, where is C-3PO? Used to having the golden droid beside him, something felt strangely empty without the familiar presence.

Looking down the infinitely stretching hallway, with no other beings in sight, he was starting to get pissed off. R2 was not the most patient...individual. His discomfort was overwhelming, and despite the fact that he could still see the door that he had just walked out of, he felt as though this hallway would go on forever. But thank the maker that someone seemed to sense his "distress". (He didn't get distressed. Ha. No, absolutely not.)

A human suddenly stepped out from what he could of sworn was just a wall, body covered in a long brown coat that just brushed against the ground.

"Oh." The organic's brown eyes widened slightly. "Hello, what's your name?"

R2 blinked a few times. Was the human asking him to speak?

The others head tilted slightly, mouth turning up into a gentle smile. "Hm?"

Speak. The idea seemed foreign now. His mouth dropped open, expecting to hear a slur of his usual Binary, he found himself surprised by the garbled mess of electronic noise that slipped out of his mouth.

The human shook its head, the smile still on it's face. "I'm doctor Valurien." The organic held out it's hand, and R2 eyed the appendage skeptically.

"Alright, Alright. I understand. I'm just going to check your wrist okay?"

R2 stayed rooted to the spot as the doctor stepped forward, cautiously moving to pull the arm that had been glued to R2's stomach, towards him. Doctor Valurien gently let R2's hand settle on the palm of his own as he checked a small red band that was fastened around his wrist.

"R2-D2? You don't look very much like a droid to me." The smile that had been used as a sort of comfort stretched a bit more. "So I suppose you're one of the droids that was successfully transferred into one of the new humanoid units. Kaila told me about you. I'm the head around here, and you, my friend, are a great success."

R2 let his head tilt back slightly, letting his new face convey what he would have otherwise tried to vocalize.

"I suppose that you don't know what that means? Would you allow me to explain?"

He let his head fall forward as he had seen many of his masters do before when they were in agreement with something.

"Good, good. You're doing very well. I'll help you with the vocalization. Most likely, you're still getting acquainted with your new mechanisms, which really shouldn't take long." The doctor dropped his hand, and swiftly turned on his heel. "Follow me please."

R2 let the hand fall to his side, fingers curling until his hand was in a tight fist by his leg, the other hand continuing to trail against the wall as a security as he began to follow the doctor. He began to notice the small screens on the wall was the slowly glided by. Each had a number, a colour lit, and a name.

Siv, Kai, M5-2, R5-52, BB-265, Adam.

A mix of organics and droids? What kind of hospital was this? Or perhaps this was what a hospital's were like. To be perfectly honest, R2 had never actually been in a hospital before, and he had hardly heard anything about them. They were avoided if at all possible. No one seemed to be particularly keen on them aside from the doctors themselves.

"You see," Doctor Valurien's voice seemed to echo through the hallway, making R2's head snap back to the front. "You were incredibly damaged in an unfortunate shipwreck. Beyond recognition as an R2 unit, we thought it would be impossible to salvage you, however...somehow, most of your inner mechanisms, including your memory card, were almost completely unharmed." The man threw a short glance over his shoulder. "Strange isn't it?"

Suddenly the doctor stopped, turning towards a door and scanning a small piece of plastic against a red square on the curving wall. R2 stumbled over his new feet, nearly falling as he struggled to stop himself.

"Anyhow, due to the fact that you were able to survive such a violent wreck, we decided that you would be the perfect candidate for one of the newest droid model shells. And, as you can tell, your transformation was very successful." The man's shoulders seemed to square back a bit, and R2 could bet that the man was probably very proud of himself in that moment, but…

"What about C-3PO?" He nearly skipped a step, stride faltering. Sweet maker...holy shit...was that him?

The doctor didn't even look back. "C-3PO?"

R2 shook his head. Damn. "C-3PO. The other droid that was on that ship. Where is he?" Don't tell me...he can't be gone. Stupid, fucking...that damn protocol droid, he wasn't going to get away from R2 that easily. No fucking way.

Doctor Valurien simply continued walking, R2 on his heels. The silence was deafening.

"Damnit, answer me!"

"See?" He could hear the smile on the man's face, it made him want to smack the guy. "You're already doing better with vocalization."

R2 let out a rough growl. "I don't care! If this was just a ploy to get me talking then you better hope you have a good security system, because I am going to kill you!"

A deep laugh sounded through the hallway, which actually contained visible doors fitted with small windows like the one that R2 had had on the door to the room where he had woken up. "Alright, alright. That was a bit cruel of me I suppose. But you know, I've never known two droids to be as attached as you two are?" The doctor shook his head. "The first thing that he did when he woke up was to call out for you. Not a master or a doctor, but another droid. You must have been through an awful lot together."

Relief coursed through his circuits, where his chips and mechanics had been rapidly warming his inner cooling system kicked in, making his tightened up joints relax. "More than you know."

The man stopped just at the end of the hallway. To the doctor's right was a door like all of the others, the only difference was that this door's edge was pressed against the end of the hallway, a bit of an awkward placement. Instead of being evenly spaced as the other doors were, it was off by a few feet, making the gap between this door and the last uneven.

"I'm sure." Valurien nodded. "I'd also like to commend you on how quickly you've turned around. Walking, talking. You're practically a professional, one of the most successful transplants we've ever had. Though, I will say that your friend probably had a bit of an easier transition due to his model. Anyway, feel free to go in. We'll be monitoring you for a bit, until we find that you're stable enough to leave. If you need anything feel free to call one of the nurses."

R2 gave the man a quick nod, something that felt extremely awkward to him, but seemed to be received well by the doctor. The man walked away, leaving R2 standing in front of the door. All of the sudden he was struck by a feeling of helplessness. He didn't know what he was doing. He wasn't too entirely sure how his own body worked. And now he was being entirely irrational and ridiculous. He was strong, always had been, always will be. Besides, just beyond the door in front of him was no where near the unknown, nothing scary, just C-3PO. And the day that he found C-3PO scary, well he wouldn't have to worry about anything because the universe would be ending anyway.

R2 tried to peek through the small window, finding that due to the odd placement of the door the room was slightly larger, and the only thing that he could really see was the wall directly across from where he was standing. His hand slid over the small pad by the door, an area that blended into the white wall, the only thing setting it apart was a slight indentation. Fingers pressing in, there was a small click before the door slid open, giving him room to step forward. He was still a bit shaky with his steps, something that he was sure would fade in time as he developed the skill and got more used to this new body.

And, the room was completely empty. Was this just another cruel joke? R2 may be a droid that does well on his own, but he couldn't really say the same for C-3PO, besides he had been with the other droid for a good while. What would the protocol droid do without him?

He turned his head, surveying every inch of the room. His first thought was about how much bigger this room was than the one that he had woken up in, which was completely unfair and uncalled for. The second was the fact that the room seemed unlived in. There was no sign that anyone had ever been in the room at all.

R2 will forever deny the fact that he was startled enough that he jumped slightly at the sound of a standard door opening and closing, unprepared for the fact that there was a bathroom attached to the sterile cabin.

"Oh, hello."

Hey, here's part two of the We're What? series!

I hope you like it and thanks for reading.

Feedback is always appreciated.

~Castor