Blues snapped online in an instant, systems screaming forth, defensive protocols booting into full, tier-one alerts. Had he booted as Wily programmed him to, he'd have targeted the nearest hostile unit and dissuaded it from any aggressive behavior with a half-conscious physical retaliation of his own.

Instead, Blues seized up, curling slightly on himself before rolling to one side and coughing roughly. One gauntleted hand came up to cover his mouth, that etiquette deeply ingrained in his programming even when he was in such systems disarray.

His armored gauntlet was stained a deeper red with fresh coolant, which he registered as his optics booted back on. Slowly, he pushed himself into a seated position, taking a moment to spit out the rest of the pooled coolant before turning and looking around, his mind muddled in the wake of this latest core attack.

Rock was crouched nearby, fully armored, his sharp blue gaze intent on him. He'd buried his worry beneath apparent calm, his brow furrowed with concern over the coolant.

Blues didn't remember even being in an alcove when this latest attack struck, and his breathing caught as he shifted, his systems aching and pulsing in time with his core.

He knew without asking that Rock had dragged him there, out of immediate sight. The ruined shells of mechaniloids were scattered about twenty yards beyond Rock—he must've cleaned the area out, too.

That, at least, was standard procedure and not an extra precaution to be taken when a friendly unit was down, though this was certainly a reversal in roles. He was usually the one looking out for Rock.

"You should have someone look at you," Rock said quietly. Had this been any other unit, Rock would have coordinated a teleport to Dr. Light's lab for repairs, but…

That wouldn't be right, even though it should be. Rock didn't know what, exactly, had gone on between Dr. Light and Blues to cause such pained expressions all around, and he wasn't sure why Dr. Light got so quiet whenever he came up. He had his suspicions, certainly, and he could make a very educated guess, but given the circumstance, it wasn't his place to know or judge.

Either way, Rock knew that he was right in telling Blues that, "You can't continue with your core causing cascading systems errors, not if they're doing that to you," a scan flitted over Blues as Rock continued, "And you have some internal damage to your coolant lines," or so Blues' systems reported, though it was a bit surprising that he hadn't rebuffed the scan. "You need that sealed up."

Bleeding out wasn't as life-threatening to a robot or a Robot Master as it was to a human, but it was still a valid concern, and something that shouldn't be left to lie.

Blues' gaze was on Rock's while he spoke, but once he fell silent, his eyes flitted around the room once more and he registered that his helmet was on the ground beside him. Lightly, he touched his forehead, as though needing that verification. He hadn't even noticed that his visor wasn't over his eyes. He was always so muddled after an attack.

This was the first time Rock had actually witnessed one, and it was a testament to how much he'd grown that he didn't outright panic and transport them both to the safety of Dr. Light's lab. Regardless of who Blues was to Dr. Light or who he could potentially be to Rock, he was still someone who'd been there for him when no one else had or could. He'd still gone out of his way to teach Rock how to survive as the wars escalated, and he was always a few steps behind, watching Rock's back. His advice had been sound, time and again, and he genuinely cared, as Rock did in return.

That relationship, that camaraderie, was so insanely precious to Rock, and so deeply respected, that he was hesitant do anything behind Blues' back, including sneaking him to a lab for repairs, no matter how desperately needed they were.

Blues' hand ghosted over his chest for a moment before both his arms went lax at his sides and he sighed, "It's not a major rupture," so he'd be able to, at least, finish up what they were doing here, provided he took the time for his systems to even out first. Really, the throes of the attack were what caused the coolant to leak and pool.

"We don't clot the way humans do," Rock said flatly. "You'll need new coolant on top of the patch," or full replacement, depending on the shape of the damage.

Blues smirked, his tired eyes turning to Rock, "What do you suggest we do here, in the middle of one of Wily's outlier facilities?"

Rock blinked, not at all put out by the other's teasing tone. "Let me take a look."

Blues quirked an eyebrow. "You want to do an invasive procedure here?"

Rock made a show of looking around. "There aren't any mechaniloids left to shoot at us."

At Blues's skeptical look, Rock rocked back on his heels. "It's been over an hour and he hasn't sent a new wave."

"That's awfully sentimental of him."

Rock shrugged. "Better than sending you a card?"

Okay, maybe that was too much, and the blue Lightbot quickly added, "He's young, one of the Second Numbers probably told him to hold."

Blues sighed again, shaking his head lightly before carefully lying back down, his gaze disinterestedly tracing the tiles on the ceiling. "I will not offline for this."

"You won't need to," Rock promised as he scooted closer, his Buster converting to his Variable Tool System, the lab array he used when doing repairs in Dr. Light's lab. "It'll be quick, in and out. Everything's by the access panel, right?"

Blues closed his eyes in assent. Yes, everything was.

Just like Rock.

A/N:

I hope everyone is doing okay, and those who have to work outside the home are able to stay safe.

Okay, so about this chapter. Classic is supposed to be the more playful, low-stakes lighthearted side of this franchise. Even so, it's still grappling with some serious themes and implications, and the juxtaposition of the two is part of what I think makes it so compelling.

I like to play off the (later) Wily Wars as war games between the Robot Masters, though ones that still had high stakes. The Wilybots' goal isn't to retire Rock or Blues, but rather what they're after is the paralyzing effect the wars and the fear have on human governments. Reporters aren't this deep on the battlefield since they will get killed. This far in, the war shifts to a careful game of chess with clear rules of engagement. If Rock loses, he still loses and we as the audience probably would not appreciate that outcome, but win or lose, all participants are adhering to a very specific set of (mostly unspoken) rules. Blues isn't the main player in the war games against the Wilybots, and a medical emergency not caused by the current engagement is sufficient to hit 'pause' on the game for a little bit.