Shell Shock
Writers:
Denny and Leila
Rating: PG-RG
Warnings: Ratchet/Azimuth. Violence.
Disclaimer: We value our lives too much to even dare think about claiming Ratchet and Alister as our own. We borrow them for an RP, so don't worry. [Put the Wargroks back into your cage!]
Summary: Everyone's nightmare is to wake up in a cold, dark place without a clue where one is. Sadly, that's what's happened to us. What's even better, we have monsters and weird encounters to endure as well. And then there's them…
Lucky, right? If I ever get out of here, I will need some therapy sessions.
Chapter 28
"Now that has taken much longer than I have expected."
The vendor scratched its head as it looked at its clock. "It's already past afternoon! I didn't think that our armors could be handled so roughly. They were practically covered in holes!" As he packed everything he needed to leave the room, he turned to the Lombaxes. "Please look out from now on. I don't know when the Hyperflux Armor is ready, but… oh! I've forgotten something. Azimuth, wasn't it? I received notice that your old armor is still in our storage. They don't know what to do with it, so they are keeping the parts."
The elder nodded stiffly. "Thank you. Should I want it back, I'll tell you."
"All right, then that is my cue to leave. Have a nice evening, sweeties!" And just as he was done talking, the vendor had already vanished from their sight.
"That went better than I expected." Ratchet headed to the kitchen, not really hungry but still needing something to eat or drink if just because he still felt so drained.
"Mhm." Azimuth didn't follow him. Instead he started dismantling the armor and changed into the more comfortable clothes.
The vendor had started with Ratchet's armor which was slung over the back's chair next to the bed. Water rushed out the tap into the glass before he shut it off. He took hasty, big gulps and filled the glass again.
The faint sound of metal being put aside reached the younger's ears. As it seemed, Azimuth was done changing; and without another word he walked into the bathroom, locking the door fast.
He didn't even look over his shoulder once after the door clicked shut. Ratchet simply moved to the fridge and opened it, staring at today's breakfast's leftovers.
"So it's the silent treatment then," he whispered idly.
It wasn't quite the silent treatment. Azimuth just did not know what to do or what to say – his presumption that Ratchet saw him as someone who was foolish enough to commit the same mistake all over again had simply burnt itself into his mind. How could he talk to him when he knew that he thought of him the same way as the other Lombaxes did?
He could not. And all he could do now was to try and get his mind clear under a long shower.
The problem was, as sorry as Ratchet was what and how he had said it to Alister – he still believed it. Okay, not about him falling for Tachyon's lies or the Lombaxes fleeing to another dimension again. This was about how short-sighted the general was. He concentrated only on the immediate gain without considering the consequences, whether they were in the present or in the future.
Minute for minute passed; only the monotonous, deafening sound of water cascading onto his head filled the elder's mind. Drowning out all thoughts, he leant his forehead against the cold surface of the wall. His fingers curled and pulled down, his breath was lost against the steam of the shower. So many things that he was not proud of – and that argument was certainly one of them.
After a while he decided it had been enough pondering. Drying his fur and putting his clothes back on, he left the bathroom, going into the kitchen to grab something to drink.
Eyes glued to the holo-screen, the younger Lombax was sitting on the couch now, sipping from a soda can. He too had decided that he had had enough pondering once the thought came up he was maybe only being self-righteous and a hypocrite – hadn't he been like this just a year ago? And again the time before and well into his first adventure with Clank?
As Azimuth walked out of the kitchen, he made a detour to the computer on the opposite side of the room. Soon documents surfaced, some that had not been written for Lawrence, but seemed to enclose more personal discourses about the fights. Things he had noticed, feared, done – the reactions to them, the happenings. He had decided that this was something he could do when Ratchet was still or already asleep, or when he couldn't think of anything else to ease his mind.
Ratchet started then stared at the screen. Without consciously realizing it, he had zapped to every channel that was currently playing any of Clank's favorite holo-TV shows.
Gosh. He hid his face in his palm. He had to feel worse than he thought – he had developed this habit after Clank had been abducted, doing it always when he felt the most depressed.
Azimuth did only faintly notice the rapid change of channels. His fingers trailed over his neck as he had recalled one of the injuries he had sustained from the Prideful. A wondrous thought came to his mind when he went through the notes he had taken. Was his…
A frown formed. No, it had to have been illusion. It was so right-out ludicrous that he couldn't believe it under any circumstances – but the thought didn't want to leave him anymore. What if it was valid worry?
With hands pressed on the surface, Azimuth pushed himself up and went into the kitchen, taking one orb of Nanotech with him.
A bit miserably now Ratchet watched the show with more attention. The memory had jogged that particular brand of loneliness that had nothing to do with being alone completely. It simply was the lack of Clank being here. Clank's bad puns – although, he wasn't allowed to talk, he found them genuinely funny – his occasional know-it-all moments, his rationality, his companionship…
Either you stop that or I will bang my head against the table until you do.
Azimuth turned his head to Ratchet for a moment. As it seemed, the younger was still distracted with watching TV, and even though it set discomfort in the elder, he let out only a low sigh at the troubled expression on the other's face. Good. If he was silent enough, his next action would go unnoticed. Just to make sure, though, he prepared some vegetables so that it looked like he had been preparing dinner.
Slowly unsheathing one of the knives and hovering his hand over the white surface, he turned the blade in his grip. He had to be mad. Completely mad. This was irrational to do, but… He had to find out. Taking a deep breath, he slashed the palm of his hand swiftly, letting out a pained groan and dropping the knife. His breath accelerated at the throbbing pain, but he didn't care too much about it for now. His eyes were fixed on the white surface where his blood was reflecting the almost clinically white light.
A noise drew Ratchet's attention. Looking around, he spotted Alister in the kitchen.
"Hey Alister, are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine," he pressed through his teeth before he composed himself again and straightened up. "No need to worry."
"… Really?" Ratchet stood up, frown marring his brow as he saw Alister hunched over.
"You don't look good."
"I'm fine, really." A brief smile was cast into the younger's direction. "I was unattentive for a second and let the knife slip."
"Do you need some nano-tech?"
"I already have some, thank you." He reached out for the orb with his injured hand and wanted to break it, but thanks to the blood covering his palm it slipped out of his grip and into the corridor, leaving a red trail in its path.
The orb rolled until it hit the tips of a boot. Ratchet, standing at the edge of the kitchen area now, bent and gingerly picked it up. There was a red stain left on the boots but it was so dark against the material it went unnoticed amidst the boot's black color.
"… Ah."
Azimuth blinked and stared into his eyes, hastily hiding his injured hand behind his back. "Sorry, I dropped the Nanotech orb. Thanks for picking it up." He reached out for it, this time with his unharmed hand.
Ratchet stepped to the side, grabbing Alister's arm by the wrist and yanking it forward, rotating the joint so that the bloodied palm faced upwards.
"That doesn't look like a simple cut." He looked up from the palm, lips pressed together.
"It is. The knife slipped out of my grip and-"
"I've been cut like this several times. Shrapnels, climbing on rocks, sharp edges from torn metal, heck even some swords by the Space Pirates. And I've accidently cut myself once with a knife in the hand. Those wounds looked like the 'accident occasion'."
He carefully spread the injury, making the elder hiss.
"This definitely does not."
Azimuth bit his lip and looked aside. "Fine, you got me. It wasn't as accidental as I pretended it to be."
There was actually a sharp gasp of air. "What did you want to accomplish?"
"I… had a suspicion, no, a… hunch." He reached for the orb in Ratchet's hand and looked at it contemplatively, turned it in its palm and held it up. "I thought the Shapeshifters had done… somethingto me. I mean… during our first fight, when I wiped off the blood on my face – it was purplish red. Not dark red - purplish. So I got worried." A low sigh. "It seems that I was wrong anyway."
Ratchet stared up at him, frozen. The idea that the Shapeshifters- No, no, no, no, no NO.
"It really isn't different. Good." Azimuth put the Nanotech onto his injured hand and shattered the shell. Blue sparks encircled the wound, closing it slowly under and pulsating tone. "But that means I created a mess without a valid reason — Ratchet?"
"Sorry, got scared for a moment at the idea the Shapeshifters could have somehow poisoned you. Or worse, messed with your molecules." A shudder went through Ratchet.
At this Azimuth only blinked. "Messing with my molecules?" He shook his head. "I see where you're coming from with the poison, but the other option seems too… odd to be true. Either way, I'll clean up this mess and… yeah."
Ducking his head, Ratchet scratched the back of his neck. "I remembered some of the stuff Lawrence and … Bar told us."
"Don't be like that. If that was the case, wouldn't you be affected as well? But you didn't have the illusion of your blood changing, so I don't think that it was a valid reason to worry." He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. "I guess that sounds hypocritical coming from me right now, eh?"
"What do you mean by hypocritical? That I shouldn't worry about while you worry about me all the time?"
"Perhaps." Azimuth turned around and took a sponge, wiping off the drips of blood on the surfaces. "Either way, I'm fine now."
"… Are you?"
"Yes I am." Water cleansed his hand from the red substance as he washed the sponge. "Don't worry. This isn't a mistake I'm likely to repeat, so I will be fine."
Still, tension hung onto his shoulders, distance lingered in his voice. Alister didn't want to talk about it – likely didn't want to talk with him at all in the moment. Ratchet understood. He felt still conflicted himself after their argument, it wouldn't be fair to push the elder.
"Alright. I'm going to watch Holo-TV again if you want to join me."
"Perhaps later. I have to take care of the mess here first."
At that the younger raised his eyebrow. The surface of the kitchen appliances was as clean as a whistle already.
Azimuth noticed the lack of response or movement. His ears flicked lightly as he put the sponge into the right spot again. "Thanks for the offer, though. I might -"
"To that abominable, stinking white squishie with the guilt complex!", it suddenly screeched through the speakers. "Move your blasted bum over to my quarters and bring that report you owe my servant!"
Hands pressing over the openings to his inner hearing, Ratchet gaped at the ceiling.
Azimuth jerked so strongly that he hit the knife holder with such force that the tool slipped out and left a deep cut in his hand again – only that this time a loud scream tore from his lips, along with a tirade of curses.
"Oh for crap's sake!" Ratchet hurried to the nano-tech crates, grabbing two orbs before hurrying back to the still cussing white Lombax. "Hold still", he hissed as he grabbed for his wrist, crushing both orbs in one hand and smearing it over the wound.
"I am already - oh god damn it, this is not a good day for me now is it?", he hissed as he slowly relaxed from the pain. The younger surely knew how treat a wound like that cautiously. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Sighing, the younger looked towards the door, fearing it would bust open any moment. "Since when did Nefarious contact us? I thought the modus operandi was that Lawrence was the one in contact with us."
Silence. Azimuth blinked at Ratchet with complete bafflement.
"… What?"
"… You used big words." A pause. "… N-not that it's a bad thing! It just… caught me aback." He smiled nervously before he slowly moved towards the exit of the kitchen; his hand remained in Ratchet's for a little longer, though. "Either way, I guess I shouldn't let him wait. I'll see what this change of address is about."
"'Big' words?"
Did he just pull a Clank on me?The serious wonder in his voice made Ratchet unsure if he should feel annoyed, nostalgic because it reminded him of his best friend or amused how Alister tried to back-pedal.
"Maybe the Shapeshifters pissed him off somehow and yelling at Lawrence's not enough in the moment."
"And of course I'm the one who gets it." The elder groaned lowly before he took off his clothes and started equipping the armor. "This is just splendid."
"Gotta bite your teeth and bear it, I guess."
"Mhm. That's all I can do." He walked over to the computer and closed all documents before transferring the report onto the microchip they had received from Lawrence on their first encounter within the facility. Then he headed to the door and took his wrench, just in case some kind of danger was still apparent within the secure area. "See you later."
Light spilled into the room before the sensory lamps lit up. Weary steps trudged in, the door behind him closing with a soft hiss. The steps continued their journey to the bed and its sole occupant. And with a sigh, an elder Lombax let himself fall on the bed's edge, arms supporting on his knees.
His mind was spinning; all the things Nefarious had explained to him in the last few hours had not only been painfully embedded into his memory with screams and anger fits, but also instilled worry in him. So Lawrence was currently unable to operatedue to the Shapeshifters declaring enmity between them and their creator. They were no longer obeying Nefarious even in the slightest, and they were aware that Ratchet and he were hiding within the secure area, trying their best to eliminate the guards. Complete loss of control, apparently.
A groan left him as he buried his face in his palm. Ratchet had been right after all.
Said young Lombax was unaware of all of this. He was sprawled diagonally over the messy sheets, blanket half wrapped around his waist and one foot dangling over the bed's edge, his breathing deep and rhythmic despite the light.
Azimuth turned around halfway to look at the younger and smiled faintly. Well, at least one of them would have some good sleep that night. Quietly lifting his legs up and crossing them, he watched Ratchet moving about a little on the bed, but frowning as his foot was repetitively hitting the edge. A chuckle left the elder before he cautiously slid his arms beneath the other's body and pulled him further into the middle – but instead of putting him down again, he halted and let the younger's head rest on his leg. Just for a moment, he thought quietly to himself, Then I'll leave him alone again.
Never did the younger stir from his sleep. His mouth feel slightly open, the warmth from Alister's body slowly curling around him.
The elder smiled fondly as he cautiously brushed over Ratchet's cheek. So peaceful this moment was, with nothing disturbing them and just the low hum of the devices filling the room with a continuous, undisturbing frequency – and so saddening that it could only be if the younger wasn't aware of it. He would very much like it not to be constrained to such situations only, especially since Ratchet had admitted liking him. He just needed something to get over his values, an excuse for himself to act more openly.
A moment of contemplation; then a smile appeared on his lips. Perhaps, yes, perhaps he could use that as a means to give his mind the excuse it needed.
Then again, how did he know that Ratchet didn't see him the same way as the other Lombaxes? Someone who had failed his race, and, undoubtedly, had been ready to commit the same mistake over again?
His fingers curled lightly; not enough to disturb the other's sleep, but still slightly pressing against the fur. How saddening, no, how pathetic… It was just another example for the complications coming with his stubbornness; a problem that would make future actions much more difficult too.
A sigh. If he could only be more open to Ratchet as well. Like he had been yesterday, when the younger had confessed a certain level of… infatuationtowards him. Or when he didn't have the same constraints of values as he did. Or… like that Shapeshifter.
Direct, clear, almost uncaring for its own image it had encompassed something that had made Ratchet startle in surprise. Without a glimpse of hesitation, safe for not provoking any hostile reactions, it had gotten through to him. And if a Shapeshifter could do that, why could he, a grown Lombax, general and member of the Praetorian Guard, not do the same? He frowned deeply, biting his lower lip as he kept brushing over the other's cheek.
What did Ratchet see in him anyway? What good was he unless he redeemed his mistakes? Why couldn't he… couldn't he just break out of this confinement made of values and stubbornness, out of the frame that one would usually describe him with just like that Shapeshifter had done? Faint shivers went through his arm as he tensed up.
Somewhere in his mind, he felt jealous of that entity.
He faintly jerked as Ratchet rolled over to his side – scooting higher up then somehow swinging a leg between Alister's and knocking the elder down as the younger all but let himself fall against his chest.
And then he began purring.
Azimuth's eyes widened in utter surprise. What in the world—No, no, no, no, that was not the way it should have gone! He didn't want to lie down here, not with what had happened, not with what was still troubling him—
But Ratchet's low purr resonated in his chest. Steadily, continuously with such peace that the elder would have felt so guilty to even move now. A low sigh escaped him before he reached for the blanket and pulled it over them, making sure that Ratchet wouldn't freeze. Then again, he doubted that this would happen, especially considering how he felt himself warm up in slight embarrassment.
"Alister…", he picked up suddenly. The elder's ears flicked as he wondered if Ratchet was awake.
"… Yes?"
A low sigh followed as the younger nuzzled against his chest. "I like you…"
At this the elder blinked, eyes widening before his expression mellowed down again. Well, perhaps… perhaps he was not sure what Ratchet thought of him; perhaps he did not want to know any time soon. But for now… Those three words had put him at ease again, simple as they were. Gently stroking over other's head, he smiled faintly before he answered with a whisper so low that only Ratchet could have heard.
"You know, Ratchet… I like you too."