A Taste of the Afterlife
(AN: This is more or less a bonus scene to "14 Years": The scene where Cantarella examines Kirby, from Kirby's perspective.)
All of them had gathered around him tonight; Toaster, Lampy, Radio, Blanky, a multimeter named Ohm and Cantarella. Dear Cantarella, so full of hope that she would be able to help him. Kirby himself had his doubts. Not even the Master had found the cause for his motor ailment, and he had done everything he could think of. But for Cantarella, he would let her try, even if he didn't believe that she would succeed… she was so desperate to try that he just couldn't say no.
"Don't worry, love, I'll be careful," Cantarella promised, and then, with a little help from the others, she set to begin. It was a weird, downright frightening sensation when he felt her and Lampy lift his motor out, but he did his best to remain calm. Outwardly, this was a lot easier than inwardly, since he had frozen for the procedure. Then the wires that held it in were, carefully, disconnected, and his consciousness faded away.
The next thing he knew was a warm, inviting light in the darkness that grew with every moment. Cantarella? No… Although the light started out as the same warm, cozy yellow as hers, it was much more, a golden and white glow that soon completely engulfed him. He felt so peaceful, so whole… He felt better than he had in a long time. The pain was gone… all the pain was gone. The pain in his motor as well as the pain from all the injuries he had received on his latest, and last, adventure. Actually, he had not felt this good in a long time. He felt like new; so fresh, so strong, so healthy. But wait… Actually, he was being inspected by Cantarella this very moment, as he had to remind himself. His motor was not in place – although he could, strangely, feel it inside him right now, as painless and powerful feeling as it had before his problems began – so that must mean he was… dead? Yes, indeed he would be dead right now, if only temporary, and, surprisingly, it felt… good. If this was death, then it felt so much better than what life had been, lately. So, what was there to fear about it? He had already accepted that his time was coming, but rather reluctantly, not because he wanted to but because it seemed unavoidable. Now, however, now that he knew what it was like…
He felt a pang of guilt when he thought of the others. He didn't want to leave them… he didn't want to leave Cantarella. In fact, they, and she, were the only things that, now, still made him cling to life. But clinging to life would also mean clinging to his damaged, dying form and to the pain… and this, now, was so much better than that…
The light was all around him now, so warm and comforting, and a spherical music filled his ears. It was so beautiful! Why couldn't he just… stay here? Just let go of life, and stay with the light, the music, the bliss… A whisper mixed into the spherical sound, like a chorus of soft, quiet voices. At first, he didn't understand what they said, but after a while, they became clearer… and finally, he understood them: "Your time has not come," they whispered. "Soon, but not quite yet…"
And then, suddenly, he was back, and his motor hurt again… hurt still. As did the entire length of his pole. With a feeling of almost sadness, Kirby opened his eyes and saw the dimly lit faces of the others in a night-dark room, the only sources of light being Lampy and Cantarella, and everyone looking at him with an expression of sadness and regret. Kirby realized that he was back… back in the trophy room, back in his ailing body. He was alive… but being dead had actually felt better.
His attention was drawn to Cantarella, as she touched his face with her plug tenderly, tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kirby! I tried my best, but it was just not enough… Ohm found the shorts in your armature, but it's beyond my ability to fix it. I'm so sorry…"
Seeing her sadness and desperation almost tore him apart internally, but the news that she wasn't able to help him didn't touch him much… he never had much hope for that to begin with. So, he just laid his plug on hers, comfortingly. "It's okay, Canta," he said quietly. "You did your best."
He didn't want to leave her, or the others, but he knew that he would have to. And when the time came, it was nothing to be feared. It was light and warmth and bliss and the end of all pain. He just hoped that they wouldn't share his fate too soon. That they would live on without him as happily as they could, and that they would grow old.