They had warned her, they had given her just two days notice, though. So when he limped into her room, Taz almost bolted for him. He wore a loose button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, she kept her eyes on his robot hand. The silver and chrome surface was already making her break out in sweat. "Stay there," she hissed, quickly leaping to her feet. Disappointment, hidden carefully under the optimism broke through, "They told me… They told me about yer dreams. I though that maybe ya wouldn' be scared of me…" Not listening to him, Taz edged to the corner of her room, Up limped to a chair and sat down, "'S no use, I told 'em where you kept yer knives. I thought it'd be safer fer me." It was true, Taz reached into the hole of her mattress where she'd stashed her beloved knife, and came away with just a piece of paper saying, "No knives lieutenant!" Growling she climbed on the bed and sat as far away from him as possible, "Coward. Jou were never afraid of me before." Up had been messing with the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them down to his wrists, "I'm not th' man ya use to know, Tazzie." Struggling, Taz wrapped herself in the blankets, "Den go away. Jou are dead. No te quiero ver." Up rested his head on a hand, "No." A chill of rage cork-screwed up her spine, making her head spin, "OUT! FUERA!" There was no response from the medics outside her door, usually they rushed into her room when she started yelling. Up gave her a smug smile, "I also told 'em not to disturb us. Not that afraid of you, pip squeak."
Bristling, Taz jumped off the bed, clutching the bed sheets to her neck, trailing them on the floor. "Seems t' me yer the one who's gone yellow-bellied. All cooped up in here and refusin' t' go outside." Had her clothes not been so flimsy and had she not been so weak, Taz would have happily jumped at his throat. Months of sedation medication had left her clumsy and the refusal to eat had dropped her muscle mass like a rock. Taz knew what she looked like, but she wondered if Up knew what he looked like. His eyes were so faded they almost looked silver, his hair was completely grey, his neck a mass of ugly scars, the hideous robot parts gleaming under the color of his shirt; a shadow of a man. "Do jou even know what jou look like?" Taz stepped forward, edging around the room so she could see his face, dragging her back against the wall. "I look a mess," admitted Up. She kept one hand on the wall, using it for support,"So how can jou go outside when jou look like dat, when…jou are not jou. A robot! How can anyone sit near jou?" Her incredulity hurt, a lot.
Up managed to keep the tears at bay and to keep his voice steady, "Aw Taz, that ain't even th' worst of it." Frowning, Taz slid down the wall, she was marginally closer now, but that had her sweating in panic. She managed to keep the shrieking alarm bells to a minimum. Up smiled at her, "See? Yer doin' better already. Look how close ya are!" With a shaking hand, Taz wiped the sweat from her nose, "Look at me? I'm sweating like a pig at slaughter. Jour stupid robot side is making me nervous." Deciding Taz wasn't going to crawl any closer, Up propped his feet on the only other chair in the room, "Not just nervous. Yer terrified. But I'm not going t' hurt ya'." There was no arguing with any of that, so Taz remained quiet, she tugged at her pony tail. She'd refused all hair cuts and now her hair curled past her shoulders. "So what's de worst of it?"
Up sighed loudly, "Aw jeez. Where do I even start? Well I cain't run, if ya' hadn't noticed. I can barely walk. Sometimes the robot side goes all numb and I just drop like a sack of turnips, lookin' like a damn fool-" He was encourage by her smirk and continued enthusiastically, "-Sometimes I just freeze and the joints don' work. But-" He frowned, "Th' worst part is the crying." That caught her attention, "Crying?"
He nodded, "I- I-….It's not just I don't look the same. I don't feel the same. Everythin' and anything sets me off. I cain't tell you how hard 's not to cry just lookin' at ya', all starved and pathetic. It's a bad joke. I wish they would'a left me on the field. Better for th' both of us, I think."
Taz shuddered visibly under her cocoon.
"But maybe not…Who knows." There was a sharp knocking on the door to her cell, Up stood, "Well. My time is done. I'll come visit ya' some other time, unless you're ready to get out?" He looked at her hopefully. Taz just tucked her head on her knees, feeling a thousand years older.
The medic who let him out asked, "How'd she react?" Up smiled, "Worse than I thought, she did go for her knife, but she didn't go for my throat. I don't know what you've done t' her but be sure I'm goin' t' be wringing a few necks around here." The medic gulped. Up's condition was only known to a few close friends, and Up was determined to keep it that way until Taz could get out. She had to get out.