Chapter Two
A penny for your thoughts, my dear...
The soft click of the apartment door seemed to echo loudly in the empty space. Bob shuddered slightly at the sudden silence; he still wasn't used to the quiet. It reminded him too much of those endless seconds drifting aimlessly in the web, before he had been mercifully found and rescued by the Web Riders.
He quickly cancelled that line of thought. No point dwelling on it, it was in the past. The Guardian of Mainframe sighed and padded towards the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help clear his head. Damn, he never, ever thought he would find himself missing Mike the TV and his endless inane chatter, but at least that had filled up the silence.
Bob generally preferred to take quick, efficient showers, a habit he had picked up at the Academy, where taking long showers just meant you were at greater risk of either running out of hot water, or getting pranked, neither of which was particularly desirable.
Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself quickly, rebooted into some comfortable clothes and settled Glitch into his usual place on his forearm.
He blinked as he caught his own reflection in the mirror. The dazzling white spots in the bathroom cast almost no shadows, lighting everything in an unrelieved, harsh glare that bounced off everything the least bit reflective; Glitch, his hair, his Guardian icon...
And his web degradation scars.
Brown eyes snapped shut, and Bob silently counted to sixteen before opening them again, praying to the user that it was just an illusion, a trick of the light, that his tired state had caused his processor to play tricks on him.
Taking a breath, he opened his eyes again and peered fearfully at the mirror, but the shiny platinum scars remained.
They were no where near as prominent as they had been before Glitch had given him his code back from Megabyte, there was just a faint glitter of them on his forehead and down the side of his face, but they were undoubtedly there.
Trying to keep a grip on the panic that was slowly trying to swallow his processor, he checked the rest of his appearance. His hair remained short and pristine; his clothes still in good condition, and his keytool sat quietly in its customary place, in perfect repair and exactly as it should be. Well, that was something to be thankful for, anyway.
"I'm sorry," Glitch whistled suddenly. Bob glanced down at his partner.
"For what, Glitch?" Bob asked,
"I thought the patch I gave you would fully restore and repair your code, but it looks like the registry problems couldn't be fixed after all,"
Bob swore the keytool sounded...mournful, upset. Keytool language wasn't exactly set up to convey much emotion, but since they had merged, Bob had become much more sensitive to the subtle nuances in tone in Glitch's bleeps and whistles.
"Glitch," Bob sighed and gently covered the keytool with his other hand, a gesture of trust and affection, "It isn't your fault. You did what you could; some damage just can't be repaired. It's ok,"
The electronic warble could almost have been a sigh,
"I just wish I could do more,"
Bob tore himself away from the mirror and wandered into the living room, sinking down into the sofa and staring out the window for a moment, thinking of Dot, of the damage to their relationship. The trust that had taken so long to build had shattered like glass...all thanks to Megabyte. His hands curled into fists and he took a sharp breath, realising that he needed a distraction, something to pour his troubled, frustrated thoughts and feelings into...
And before he could open his mouth, Glitch had materialised his guitar into his hands.
He blinked down as the guitar and his keytool.
"Glitch, how did you..?"
"You enjoy playing music when you're troubled," Glitch replied matter-of-factly, "It seems to help your emotional state,"
Bob shook his head, recognising a run-around when he saw one, and began to strum the guitar absently as he spoke,
"In other words, you've become more attuned to me, just like I've become more attuned to you."
There was a long pause, and Bob got the distinct impression they keytool was almost embarrassed,
"Would it be wrong of me to say that I missed it?" Glitch asked almost diffidently,
"No," Bob replied, almost too softly to hear, "Not if I miss it too."
They both lapsed into silence, the only sound was Bob's playing, electric chords almost shimmering in the air as he poured his troubled core-com out into the music, a heartbreaking wail of loss and grief, but still threaded through the bass notes, was the sound of hope.
"Maybe I should grow my hair again," He murmured absently, his eyes fixed on middle distance, looking at nothing. Glitch chirped in sympathy.
The Guardian was so lost in his thoughts and his music that he almost jumped out his skin when the chime of a vid window startled him.
"Hi Phong," Bob sighed after he took a breath to steady himself. The old sprite bowed slightly.
"My apologies for disturbing you so late in the cycle, my son, but I need to see you at the Principle Office right away," Phong said quietly.
Bob felt concern creeping over him, "Is everything ok?" Is Dot ok? The thought went unsaid, but Bob thought the old sprite probably understood anyway.
"It concerns something I discovered n your medical scan, and I felt it should be discussed...personally,"
Concern rapidly morphed into outright worry.
"I'll be there right away, Phong." Bob replied, standing.
"Thank you, my son."
Bob's hand went to his forehead, to touch the faint imperfections of the web scars. It was a good thing Bob had trained himself never to ask questions like 'What else could go wrong?' or 'The cycle couldn't get any worse'.
Otherwise, he would have been in really serious trouble.
End Chapter Two