The Spine couldn't remember the last time he had felt this tired, at least not recently. He shouldn't have even been as exhausted as he was; it was only one show, and Rabbit and Zero and even the humans were fine, so why was he, the most technologically sophisticated of them all, feeling like a strong gust of wind could blow him over?
It must be a virus, Spine thought furiously as he dragged himself backstage for the umpteenth time to help Steve load up more equipment. His head ticked obnoxiously to the side; once, twice, three times in a row, and he jerked it back irritably, steam curling up from between his lips as he huffed. His legs squeaked with every step, his dorsal heat-sync protrusions had gotten stuck and refused to slide back in, and every five seconds he almost completely forgot what he was doing. The Spine didn't sleep, necessarily, but oh, what he would give to be able to power down for a solid day or two.
"Come on," he mumbled to himself as he slowly, painstakingly stooped down to pick up another heavy box, wincing as its weight pulled at his shoulders. "Just a few more hours, Spine. Can't stop yet." He rose up even slower than he had lowered himself, feeling like he was trying to carry Zero instead of a measly box that should feel like nothing more than a feather to his titanium build. "Y' can't leave this all to Steve, you're not that much of a jerk." He lumbered across the stage towards the door on the far left, more and more steam spilling out from between plates, covering the room in a haze. He stopped abruptly, his right eye twitched, and he threw his head back with a long, dramatic groan, his whole body sagging.
Creak.
He was better than this. He was the mature one, the responsible one; he wasn't supposed to shirk his duties just because of a pesky little virus.
Creeaaak.
The Spine blinked confusedly and suddenly realized he had somehow made a complete one-eighty. He sighed and turned back to the door, the sigh turning into a yawn as he started walking towards it again.
CREEEAAAAK.
"Jesus, Spine, we gotta get that checked out!" The Spine stopped in his tracks, swaying slightly, as their resident S.O.U.N.D. engineer kicked open the door with one leg and shoved his way in, holding a box of his own. "You weren't nearly that creaky during the show, were you? I think I would've noticed if you were." Steve stopped, squinted at him, and put down his box. "Spine? Hey—"
"Wha'?!" The silver robot jerked himself awake, not even having realized he was drifting off, and immediately dropped the box on his foot. "Gah, fudge on a—" He stumbled back, chassis hissing and popping, and glared at Steve. "What?" He demanded, tone much sharper than he meant for it to be. Steve, more than used to the robots' shenanigans and mood swings, scowled right back at him with an expression that brooked no arguments.
"What's wrong with you?" The engineer said bluntly, arms folded. The Spine copied the motion, wincing slightly as his elbow joints squeaked loudly and obnoxiously.
"Nothing. I'm just a bit tired after that show, is all. Need to charge up once we return to the Manor. Now," he began, ignoring the way the room spun around him as he bent down to retrieve the box, "I'm going to ask that you please excuse me while I finish loading up these boxes. We can talk once we're done." Spine marched past Steve, only to jump slightly when a hand landed on his shoulder. Steve raised one skeptical eyebrow.
"Spine, buddy, why don't you just put that box down and go rest up until I'm done here, okay?" He said surprisingly gently, patting the gigantic automaton's shoulder. Spine gripped the box tighter, annoyance welling up inside him to mask the greater feeling that was beginning to build: shame.
"Steve," he said with gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice measured. "I assure you, once again: I. Am. Fine—Fine—Fine—Fine—Fine—"
"Ohhh boy," Steve muttered, eyes wide as he swiftly stepped back from the now malfunctioning robot. A thin line of steam jetted out from The Spine's cheek as his head twitched rapidly, eyes blank as his voice box stuttered. "Uhhh— Ch-Chelsea?! Camille?" He cursed under his breath as Spine started to slump over, expelling unhealthy amounts of steam as his voice dipped lower and lower until it was barely audible. "Darn it, where are they?"
"Fiiiiiiinnnne… Fiiiiiiinnnne… Fiiiiiiinnnnne…" Meanwhile, Spine was aware of nothing but a low buzzing in his ears, his surroundings slowly dissipating around him. This 's nice, he thought dimly. 'M jus' gonna… take five…
"Oh, God!" Steve jumped and clapped his hands over his ears just as Spine's chassis teetered forwards, backwards, and finally, with a great creak, tipped over and sent two tons of heavy metal crashing down to the floor.
SCRRRRSSSH!
One beat passed, then another. Ears ringing, Steve gingerly removed his hands from them to stare down at the completely powered down robot laying limply on the floor, covering what was sure to be a few hundred dollars worth of a dent in the floorboards. Late to the party as usual, Q.W.E.R.T.Y.'s ever-smiling face popped up on the S.O.U.N.D. engineer's smartwatch.
"WARNING: SPINE'S POWER CELLS RUNNING LOW."
Steve sighed, put a hand on his hip, and looked down at the AI wearily.
"... Thanks, Q.W.E.R.T.Y. Good job."
SYSTEM REBOOT, ONLINE.
POWER CELLS STATUS: A-OKAY.
DORSAL HEAT-SYNC PROTRUSIONS: A-OKAY.
STEAM BOILER TURNOVER RATE: A-OKAY.
HIP-GYRATIONS: A-OKAY.
A-OKAY CONFIRMATION: A-OKAY.
SYSTEM POWERING ON IN FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE—
NUMBER ONE SILVER ONLINE.
When The Spine came to, he felt better rested than he had in at least the last five years, let alone the past decade. He didn't really remember how he had ended up back in the Hall of Wires, but that was okay. He didn't really care, as long as he could just take a few minutes to gather himself and figure out how long he had been charging—
"The Spine?!"
"GAH!" Calm, relaxed state completely ruined, The Spine jerked fully awake as Zero's voice sliced through the peaceful (So peaceful, he thought wistfully) quiet, the golden automaton's finger poking at his nose. Eyes wide open, the older robot scowled instinctively, blinking and peering around as he struggled to get his optics to focus. "Wha— Zero, Zero stop that." He slapped at his brother's hand until he stopped poking him in the face. Wrinkling his nose, he looked down at him sternly and opened his mouth, only to let out a huff of air as Zero rammed into him with all the excitement and grace of an overgrown puppy. Had he not been used to his surprise tackle-hugs, Spine would have toppled over.
"The Spine! You're awake!"
"Yeah… Yeah, I am, Zero." The Spine gingerly patted Zero on the back, now very confused. "... Uh, what day is it?"
"Tuesday!" The gold bot answered happily. "I thought you were gonna be powered down forever! You took so long!"
"I— Wait, when did I power down?" Spine asked, dread starting to build up in the pit of his chassis. Zero, unconcerned, responded with the same enthusiasm as always.
"Saturday!"
And then it all came flooding back. The Spine immediately felt his face heating up in embarrassment as he remembered his argument with Steve and what could only have been his subsequent collapse onto the floor. His shoulders sagged almost comically.
"Ohhh no, oh no," he groaned, reaching up to press a hand to his face. "Oh boy…"
"No, no, no, Spine, it's fine," Zero protested, pulling his fingers away from where they were pinching the bridge of his nose. "We got you all covered; Q.W.E.R.T.Y. and Bebop got your systems all patched up! And Steve got the theater's floor fixed, too! See? Everything's all better!" This, however, did nothing to assuage Spine's rapidly increasing stress levels.
"The floor?" He asked, horrified, before also remembering he weighed several tons. There was a sharp whistle as steam puffed out from him in his mortification. "Oh, oh no." He swiftly disentangled himself from Zero and began heading towards the door of the Hall of Wires. "Sorry Zero, but I have to go apologize to Steve." He lowered his voice to a mutter, grumbling to himself. "The floors, oh my God."
"Wait, Spine!" Zero cried hurrying up to block him with a pout. "Whaddya mean, apologize? You don't have anything to apologize for!"
"I—" Spine started, then stopped abruptly. "... What?" He stared at Zero, confused, then shook himself and started to go around him. "Zero, don't be silly, of course I do. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
"No!" Zero blocked him again, arms crossed with a distinctly upset expression on his face. "Why are you doing the thing, Spine?" The Spine made a face.
"'The thing'?" He asked, voice pitching up indignantly. "What thing? I don't have a 'thing', why do you think I have a 'thing'?"
"You know, the thing!" Zero pressed. "The thing where you're all, 'Oh, my problems don't matter, I'm such a burden, I'm just gonna be all weird and stupid because I'm sad.'" Spine was so insulted by the Eeyore voice his little brother had adopted in impersonating him that he almost missed the content of what he said. Almost.
"Zero, I really don't know what you're talking about," The Spine said exasperatedly, now thoroughly baffled.
"Well," Zero began, playing with his hands, "You don't make me or Rabbit apologize when we're sleepy." The Spine frowned.
"Well—"
"And you don't care if we need to power down for a lil' bit, even when we're busy. And you don't get mad if we malfunction and accidentally break somethin'." The Spine could see where this was going, and was starting to feel very uncomfortable and put on the spot. He swallowed, scratching the back of his head. "I just don't get it, Spine. Why are you so mean to yourself?"
"I'm not mean to myself, Zero," Spine said quickly, scrambling for an explanation. "I just… I…"
"I built you from the strongest metal I could find, Spine. I built you this way so you could protect your siblings. You can do that, right?"
"... I'm supposed to be the strong one," he whispered finally, his excuse falling flat. Zero looked so sad, and it made him feel like walking garbage. "I'm built out of titanium, my software has been updated routinely, I'm supposed to function properly, not just break down for no reason…"
This time when Zero hugged him, it didn't feel like he was being bowled over. It was soft and gentle, and he had to swallow back tears that shouldn't have been there.
"You're not perfect, Th' Spine," Zero said quietly. "Doesn't matter how many times you've been updated. It's okay to not feel okay sometimes. That's what you tell us, right?" And all the fight in him disappeared at once. The Spine sagged and returned the hug, and if he squeezed just a bit tighter than usual, Zero didn't mention it. Zero was right, of course. Imagine that. It had been over a hundred years. Maybe he could take a leaf out of his own book, for once.
"... Okay, Zero. Okay. Thanks."