Aunt Red

"All I'm saying is that I don't think batteries are that healthy. They could make his gears go grey. I say we pour white sauce over him!"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, shut up both of you."

Tony's consciousness floated in a black void. He could hear the voices, but he could not reply. He attempted to open his eyes, but they would not listen. He couldn't even feel his arms and legs, though he sensed that they were present. He could hear a faint whirring sound, like the distant hum of a motor. It slowly faded away again.

"His finger twitched!"

"Good. Go tell your dad."

Yes, just for a moment there he had broken out of his dark prison. It had taken all of his will to move that one finger. He listened to the whirring as he faded back into sleep again.

"I think he's coming to!"

Tony's eyes finally bent to his will and opened, only to be treated to more darkness. He cried out, in both anger and fear. Had he gone blind?

"Easy there, calm down." the monotonous voice was surprisingly reassuring. He felt two hands grip his sides and lift him gently. Soon a wall with a window came into view, the distant orange landscape and red sky a breath of fresh air compared to the darkness he had been in. "See? No need to panic, you were only upside down."

Tony attempted to roll over, but Red Guy stopped him. "No, don't. Your back is still open and the bed sheets will get stuck in your gears."

He picked him up and sat him down on the edge of the bed. "Can you sit up?" Tony nodded. "Good, I'll go get your back."

He left the room, leaving Tony to his thoughts, which were very few, and were quickly interrupted.

"Glad to see you're alright." Duck was sitting in a rocking chair across the room.

"What happened?" asked Tony.

"Do you not remember?" asked Duck.

"I remember up until Shrignold… sent us to see Malcolm. Then ice. And then a few bits and pieces."

"Hmmm." Duck hummed, thoughtfully. The rocking chair creaked back and forth beneath him. "You came back in rough shape. Something having to do with you leaving… her behind, and that Malcolm's brainwashing had made you 'love' … her. Plus, Roy is very inexperienced with creating Hucaillucs, him and Yellow Guy showed up with a nasty layer of frost on their skin, though Roy was the only one who sustained frostbite. You, on the other hand, had more than just little frost. You were frozen right down to the core. Your gears were coated in ice."

Tony had not realized how close he had come to facing his doom. If his gears had been thawed improperly, they might have rusted.

"Red Guy took very good care of you, much to my surprise actually. He spent nearly an entire night with a blow dryer and a towel, carefully thawing and drying you gears. You have him to thank for saving your life."

Just then, Red Guy reentered the room holding Tony's back, a handful of screws and a screwdriver. He sat down beside Tony, who turned his open back towards him. As Red Guy began reattaching his back, Tony thought about Duck's words. Red Guy had never really liked him, as far as he could tell. Yet, he had been the one who had put all of his effort into saving him, and… she hadn't even been there to ask him for help. He had done it of his own accord.

"There you go." said Red Guy, patting Tony's back. "All back to normal."

Tony sat silently for a few seconds. Finally he turned to face Red Guy.

"Thanks." he said. Red Guy nodded. "But, if I may ask… why?"

Red Guy looked thoughtful for a moment. "You're not the first to ask me that question, or something like it. Yellow Guy asked it when we allowed him and his father to stay at our house after their apartment got condemned. Some friends of mine asked it, when I gave them a large sum of money, despite not having too much myself. Duck asked me, after I saved him from a dangerous criminal."

He paused to look up at Duck, who let out a chuckle. "Fine mess of tar and feathers, that one. You remember the Money Man, don't you Tony?"

Tony shivered. "How could I forget?" They had been lucky that there had been some people kind enough to fund a rescue kickstarter for Roy, otherwise they might have been toast.

Red Guy continued. "Why did I do it? Because He needed a place to stay, because they needed it for food, because he was my friend. Do I need a better reason?"

"Some people would think so." muttered Tony. Red Guy frowned, a hard to see expression, but definitely there. He stood up and stat down on a stool next to the bed, likely the one he had been using while helping Tony. He pushed Tony back onto his back, and pulled the covers of the bed over him. "Let me tell you a story."

Once upon a time, there was a small Red Child who knew very little of the world. One day he had been walking with his friends when they had spotted an old man from the village sleeping under a tree. He had removed his shoes, and the children though it would be funny if someone stole his socks, so they dared their red friend to do it.

The Red Child snuck up to the old man and took his socks, not realizing that he man had a good sense of hearing, and was only pretending to be asleep after the Child had awoken him. As the child returned to his friends, he noticed the old man glaring at him.

A few days later, the Child and his friends were playing by a river when the Red Child slipped off the bank. He clung onto the rocks of the cliff like bank to keep from falling off into the rushing river. He cried out to his friends for help, but they ran away home and told no one of his plight, because they didn't want to get in trouble for being so close to the river.

The rocks were wet and slippery from the spray of the river, and the rushing water splashed viciously at his ankles. His hand slipped from the rock and he began to fall.

Suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed the Child by his arm, and the old man lifted the child back onto the shore.

"Thank you sir," said the child. "But why did you help me? After all, I stole your socks."

"A long time ago," replied the old man. "I stole an old lady's hat. The very next day I tripped on the street and that old lady saved me from being trampled by a horse. I asked her the very same question. And you know what she said?"

The Red Child shook his head.

"She said, 'you needed help, so I helped you.' My answer to you is the same, you needed help, so I helped you. Though, I do hope you learned something. You seem like a nice kid. Don't let others make you do something you know is wrong. Right injustices in the world when you see them."

The Red Child stared up at the clouds. "Okay."

The next day he returned the old man's socks.

The room was silent for a few moments, except for the creaking of Duck's rocking chair.

"Did," Tony asked, hesitantly. "Did the Red Child live happily ever after?"

"Not entirely." replied Red Guy. "He was lonely at first, because he realized his friends were a bad influence. But he found a someone in his village who was also lonely, so he helped them by being a friend. He also had to learn that there were times when helping would hurt, for him or for the one he was helping. He had to put one of his old friends in jail once. They still keep in touch."

He leaned toward Tony, a glimmer of mirth in his eyes. "Last I heard, he was kidnapped by talking objects."

Tony looked away, surprised at his guilt. He had never thought much of his students before. Batch goes in, batch goes out, batch goes in, batch goes out, nothing more. It hadn't occurred to him that they had had a life before they had mysteriously come into the house. Sketchbook really had opened his eyes.

"Sketchbook." he thought, as he drifted to sleep.

Author's note: I'm going to be going on a bit of a... hiatus, I suppose. Spring break has started and I'm headed out to visit some relatives who don't have wifi, or any sort of internet connection. I'll be gone for a little over a week, but I should have the next chapter ready as soon as I get back.