"You're hooked up to a dozen different machines and monitored by a dedicated AI... Do you really think we don't know you're awake?"
Arcee's voice was dry as she looked down at the woman in front of her. Her body was a mess of tattoos and scars that stood out against her deathly pale skin, and her long dark hair had been pulled into a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way while Panacea 'healed' her.
The girl opened her eyes with a muttered 'fine' and a baleful glare. Her right hand flexed, gripping the sheets on reflex, but she made no other move. They hadn't bothered restraining her. There wasn't any point.
"How long was I asleep?"
"A few hours," Arcee said with a shrug. They had been forced to scan the girl's body with every available sensor before allowing Panacea anywhere near her, which had taken a while. It was a precaution against any hidden traps. When nothing had been found, Panacea had quickly stopped the bleeding and closed the wounds, but that was all they were willing to do for now, much to Ratchet's annoyance.
"Is this the part where you offer me freedom for information on the Nine?" Cherish huffed, almost sounding bored. Arcee could see the girl's biometrics and her emotional responses were unusual, muted at best or just plain wrong. Rung could probably write an entire case study on the girl if they let him.
"No," Arcee said with a grim smile. "There's nothing you can tell us. The Nine are dead. You and Bonesaw are the only survivors."
Cherish stared in disbelief, a show of genuine emotion if the biometrics were right, but still less than Arcee had expected. "You killed the others, but kept that thing alive?"
"She's a child."
"Not anymore," Cherish said with a giggle that bordered on manic. "Do you know what he did to her? What he made her into?"
Increased heart rate, dilated pupils. The data feed from the medical sensors monitoring Cherish was almost reassuring. If the girl could feel fear, then she wasn't too far gone and could still possibly be reasoned with.
"Did he scare you?"
Snorting, Cherish let her head fall back against the pillows. "He wasn't some criminal mastermind, just an ass with a bit of charisma. But when I tried to take the Nine from him, he knew. He just spoke to them and they ignored me. I've never seen anything like it."
Arcee hummed, summoning a hologram of Jack Slash's body; the picture was taken by Taylor's bodycam just before she incinerated him. "Didn't save him in the end… we burned the bodies, by the way."
More images appeared, showing the corpses of the Nine. The only one missing was the Siberian, who had vanished after her fight. The think-tank claimed she was a projection and that the creator was dead, but it would take them some time to find their body as it could have been anywhere.
Cherish barely spared them a glance, seemingly uninterested in the fates of her former 'teammates'. Instead she glared at Arcee, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Then, why am I still alive?"
"Because Wheeljack is too soft. He could never stomach an execution. Me? I'd have finished you off." Dismissing the holograms, Arcee brought up a series of images. Most of them were blurred or clearly taken from a distance, but together they showed a tall man with a lanky, muscular physique, long black hair, and a goatee.
In one of them, a clear skinned Cherish was standing beside him.
"When we tried to ID you, we found this. You're one of Heartbreaker's children, right?"
Smirking, Cherish tried to raise herself up, almost radiating an air of superiority. "What do I get out of it?"
"You get to live," Arcee said bluntly. "We're also willing to fix your legs." The axe had hit her spine, leaving Cherish almost completely paralyzed. Her right arm, neck, and head were the only things she could move. "If your information is good, and we can make an arrest, we will also convince the PRT to send you to the Birdcage instead of a summary execution."
She scowled at the Autobot, her hand clutching at the bedsheet. "That's not much of a choice..."
"You were a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine," Arcee countered with a shrug. "Life in prison is still better than a bullet to the head. You've got three hours until the PRT arrives to collect you. After that, the deal's off."
Dismissing the holograms, Arcee turned to leave, stopping at the door. "This room is monitored at all times. If you need anything, just call. "
Cherish's acceptance was so quick, it almost followed Arcee out of the door.
##
I watched Cherish's interrogation on a video screen. With the power blockers built into the walls of her cell and the paralysis, she was effectively harmless, but I'd be glad to get her off my base.
"Y'know," Vicky said, walking up behind me and poking my shoulder. "Isn't this a bit villainous for you?"
I was still wearing the armour I'd used to kill Jack Slash, the bright lights of my new - and still under construction - base highlighting the messy welds and dull, unpainted metal.
"I was in a hurry!" I huffed, my cheeks growing hot. It really was nothing more than some spare parts, a leftover Dragon suit and a prototype fusion cannon welded together, strapped to a body suit and held together with little more than duct tape and faith.
"It's not like I had time to prime, paint and colour match everything." While I had planned to leave the whole situation to Arcee, I'd kept an eye on the situation, putting some armour together just in case I had to step in. When I realised Jack Slash was going to reach that house before anyone could catch up, I'd had no choice but to interfere. I couldn't let him get away.
"Yeah," Vicky said with a smile. "But really, grey and black with red eyes? I can't think of something more 'evil' looking."
"They were the only lenses I had spare."
"Sure..." she teased and in an effort to ignore her, I brought up the feed from the other prisoner and almost immediately regretted it.
Bonesaw was lying on an operating table that was covered in blood. Between her small size and blonde hair, she really did look like a helpless child and not an infamous member of the Slaughterhouse Nine.
Her chest had been cut open and Ratchet was trying to extract a mess of metal and wires that were tangled around her ribs. Panacea was there as well, pale faced and blood spattered, one hand held firmly against Bonesaw's forehead.
Against my better judgement, I hit the intercom, waiting for the go-ahead from Ratchet before saying anything that might distract them.
"How's it going?"
"Not well," he rumbled, pulling a long thin strand of wire free. "So far, we've found no less than three organs dedicated to producing viruses that would be released on her death and two more that keep trying to counter any sedative we give her. Not to ment-"
There was a spray of blood and Bonesaw's arm exploded just below the shoulder. As the limb hit the floor, metal blades and a series of spindly legs burst out of the flesh, letting it scurry across the floor in a mad dash to reach Panacea.
Amy screamed, jumping back and kicking the limb away. The moment she let go of Bonesaw, the tinker's body jerked on the table, her back arching unnaturally.
"Her spine's trying to escape!" Ratchet shouted, pushing the girl back against the table while the severed limb raced towards Panacea again.
Pulling her pistol off her back, Amy kicked the limb away with a curse and opened fire. Her first shot missed, scorching the operating room floor but the second connected, reducing the limb to pulp.
Snatching it up, Amy quickly dumped the remains inside a nearby metal box while Ratchet stabbed a glowing knife into Bonesaw's body. The bloody chunk of bone that had emerged from her torso like a snake went limp and the girl stopped moving.
"Are you okay?" Vicky shouted before I could, her grip tight enough to dent the armour on my shoulder as she rose into the air.
"No!" Amy snapped, putting a bloody hand on Bonesaw's face with more force than was strictly necessary and a glare at the camera. "That's the second time she's tried to kill me! She keeps trying to wake up and she's pumping plagues into the air. I'm blaming you both for all of this!"
"Is… there anything we can do to help?" I offered gently, feeling equal parts guilty and confused. Amy had been here when Bonesaw arrived and had volunteered to help 'defuse' her.
"No!" Ratchet called, adjusting his grip and roughly cutting a wire. "I don't want anything organic entering this room until it's been completely decontaminated! If one of these viruses got out, it would make Yersinia Pestis look like the common cold."
"He's right," Amy sighed, "I'm immune, you're not. Just… Can you send one of the bots? Just in case that happens again?"
"Alright, anything else?" I was already ordering Steeljaw to the operating room. He wouldn't hesitate to kill anything that tried to attack them and we wouldn't have to worry about anyone shooting in a confined space.
Easing her grip, Vicky gently landed on the floor with a chuckle. "She's fine. Getting attacked just makes her a bit moody."
I knew that, but still, ouch.
"... I want a bath," Amy continued more sullenly. "And chocolates… or ice cream…"
Biting my lip, I checked on the status of my ensuite and asked Nautica if she wouldn't mind doing a quick shopping trip.
##
Two hours later, Amy emerged from the decontamination room that was attached to the operating theatre. Water was still dripping from her hair and the clean hospital sweats she had pulled on were sticking to her damp skin.
Her cape costume was bundled up in a hamper inside the shower room so it could be taken away and deep cleaned
"I am never doing that again…" she muttered, pushing her hair out of her face.
Pushing off the wall, I held up a large travel mug of coffee, its contents still steaming. Amy grabbed at it with a grateful moan, heedless of the temperature as she gulped down what I could only call sludge with extra sugar.
"Come on," I said, putting an arm around her shoulder and leading her through the base. "I've got something for you."
Construction was going well. The building had started out as one of Dragon's bases, but we were in the process of expanding it and digging it out of the ground. So far, the living and medical areas were done and Nautica was confident she could duplicate the hover panels that had kept the Protectorate base in Brockton Bay afloat.
It would take at least another two months worth of work and cost a fortune, but when it was finished this base would change everything.
Of course that would all come later. Right now, I was planning on spoiling my grumpy little healer a bit.
"So," I said as we walked into my room. "Earlier today, Rung rather helpfully pointed out that I've done almost nothing but work since we escaped the city."
"Hmm, your 'master plan,' Amy muttered, leaning against me with her eyes closed.
"It's a great plan," I insisted, "but he also said that if I don't take a break, he'll have Ratchet banish me to the island again."
"That doesn't sound too bad." she muttered around her sludge.
"It's monsoon season."
"Oh…"
"Yeah." I was pretty sure Rung hadn't realised that when he made the threat, but he did have a point about needing some time off.
"Anyway, that made me realise, we haven't really done anything with just the two of us in a long time."
"Like a date?" Amy perked up, eyes shining, but she wilted quickly, her shoulders drooping and the dark rings around her eyes growing me vivid. "I'd love that, I really would but... I've just spent four hours pulling an insane biotinker apart. I'm not sure I'll be much-"
"Relax." With a playful roll of my eyes, I gave her shoulders a squeeze and led Amy into my ensuite.
This was the first time Amy had been in here, so I got to see her stare in open mouthed shock at the sheer size of it. The bathroom was bigger than my entire bedroom in Brockton.
The walls and floors were covered with light green and white tiles, the ones on the floor slightly textured to avoid slippage. Aside from the expected toilet, in one corner of the room was a large walk-in shower and opposite it was a bathtub that was almost big enough to count as a pool.
"You have a hot tub?" Amy said, her voice flat as she stared at the bath that was currently filled with hot water that was bubbling away to itself. Soft drinks and a large box of chocolates sat on a tray floating in the air next to the tub.
"Yup!" I laughed. "I've already told the others not to disturb us. So, what do you say to just a day of lazing around together, watching bad movies and eating junk food?"
"Get in the damn tub!" Amy laughed, already pulling her top off and I had to force myself not to stare. Thankfully, the warmth of the room helped cover my blush as we stripped down and climbed into the water.
It took Amy a little longer to get in as she had to remove her prosthetics, but Wheeljack had helpfully included support rails on both the bath and shower to make things easier.
Sinking deep into the hot water, we both sat there for a while, both too embarrassed to look at each other. Eventually, with a huff, I reached out and grabbed Amy, putting my arms around her waist and pulling her onto my lap so I could cuddle her.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked, resting my chin on her head.
"No…" she muttered, slowly relaxing against me. After a few moments of silence, she huffed. "...it's just… how could she do that to herself?"
"How bad was it?"
"She'd stunted her growth," Amy said quietly. "I don't know how old she really is, but she looks younger because of everything she did to herself. Some of it was just simple stuff, like muscle and bone reinforcement or outright replacement in some places, but the other stuff? She had organs inside her filled with viruses or prion diseases; I swear one of them was a fucking zombie plague and she was just walking around with them inside her. Fuck, she had a small bio-mechanical spider in her stomach that burst out like a fucking alien and tried to attack me and she'd done something to all the metal bits so I couldn't remove them. Which was why Ratchet had to cut most of it out and-"
"And she did it all to herself," I said, pulling Amy closer and stopping her rant. All the modifications, all the implants. Bonesaw would have had to operate on herself, in random places around the country with only the painkillers and tools she had made or found. Assuming she used any.
All the while, Jack Slash and the rest of the Nine would have been watching, if not encouraging her. 'Or would they have helped?'
It was a sickening thought.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," I said softly, kissing the top of her head.
"It's fine," she huffed. "I did volunteer after all. I just… needed to vent I guess… I don't know how you and Vicky deal with life and death fights all the time."
Sighing, she leaned back further and looked up at me. "Did I ever tell you about the time a Ward decided he was a cybernetics tinker? The PRT flew me out to California to fix him after he attempted to cut his own arm off, without painkillers..."
"I'd heard about that," I said with a shudder. It had cropped up when I first started designing prosthetic limbs, along with a warning about attempting surgery on myself without supervision.
Closing my eyes, I let my mind wonder as we fell into a comfortable silence, only broken by Amy calling for Teletraan to put on some music.
"Taylor…" Amy eventually said with a soft moan.
"Want me to stop?"
"Don't you da-"
The moment was ruined as a klaxon sounded throughout the base and a holographic screen appeared with GPS coordinates, an image of Kid Win and a blinking radiation symbol.
"Alert!" Teletraan barked. "Emergency recall procedure has been initiated by VI node EVA. User life signs in critical condition."
"What the everloving fuck!?" Amy screamed, both of us trying to scramble out of the bath, only to collide together and fall back under the water.
"What is that?" Amy said, coughing as I pulled her above the water and leaned over the edge of the bath to grab her prosthetic legs.
"I gave Kid Win a VI a while back. It included a couple of fail safes, y'know, in case he ever got hurt or did something stupid!"
Pulling on our clothes, we were both trailing water as we rushed through the base, reaching the main room just as Vicky and Warpath returned, carrying a heavily armoured Kid Win and a girl with short black hair who was covered in blood.
"You can't blame me for this one," I said, calling up a console and ordering EVA to dismantle Kid Win's armour.
"No, but I'm gonna shout at them both when this is over!"
"Me too," I muttered, glancing at Chris's burned skin. So much for our 'date night.'
If you enjoyed this, please consider supporting me on patron: MetallixMiscellaneous