Been a while, eh? Here's the next part.
The days passed by. Days turned into weeks. A month rolled around the corner, and yet the mysterious pain still lingered. It steadily got worse, but so slowly that Blues adjusted to it before it could progress. It was just another part of his life. Something he had gotten used to and eventually ignored. Blues still neglected to tell Dr. Light about the feeling. If it didn't interfere with his living, then he felt that no one should dwell over.
The young robot slid out of his bed, like every other day. Blues changed out of his pajamas and into some black jeans and a long sleeve gray shirt. He lazily slung the yellow scarf about his neck, and proceeded out of his room, slipping on his house slippers on the way out.
Dr. Light was already awake, sitting on the couch watching the news on TV. Just as Blues entered the living area, the doctor puffed out a breath of smoke, which the young robot wrinkled his nose at. The doctor looked up at Blues, throwing an apologetic smile his way, while waving his hand to disperse the smoke. Blues smirked.
"Good morning, my boy," the doctor said, removing the pipe from his mouth.
"Good morning, Doctor," Blues responded, heading into the kitchen. The robot began whistling—a talent that Dr. Light found most impressive that he learned on his own—while he began boiling water to make tea with. Blues scanned the boxes of tea, wondering which one he should make for the doctor today. He settled with green tea, pulling one of the tea bags from the box.
The water began boiling rapidly as Blues reached in the cabinet for a cup. The young robot carefully poured the steaming water in the cup, over the tea bag. He let it sit for a few moments to grab some sugar and honey to add. Three spoonfuls of sugar seemed to please the doctor. Blues slowly stirred in the grainy sweetener, dissolving it. Next he added the honey. Squeezing it gently, he counted in his head...one...two. The robot let go, catching the last little drop with his finger and putting it to his lips. He could say that he really enjoyed honey. Blues placed the cup on a tray and made his way slowly—so as not to spill the steaming liquid—into the living area.
"Doctor, I made you some tea," the young robot said. The tray in his hands seemed to become heavier for some reason.
"Thank you Bl—Ah!" Dr. Light's response was cut short as the robot dropped the tray, and collapsed to his knees. He wailed in pain, clutching his chest tightly, making desperate gasps for air. "Blues! Blues, what's wrong?"
"D-Doctor," Blues gasped, falling face first on the floor. Suddenly, inexplicably, the annoying pain suddenly skyrocketed to agonizing heights. Blues couldn't even move, the pain was so great. The good doctor cradled the boy in his arms, who continued moaning in pure agony. "It hurts. I-it hurts..! It hurts!"
Within moments, the pain caused Blues to black out. When he finally opened his eyes, the pain had subsided quite a bit, but was still very much there. He found himself reclining on the same metal table he was on when he first opened his eyes. Blues cast his half-lidded gaze downward, noticing the panel on his chest was open, revealing his core. The young robot felt very tired. He was so exhausted that even holding his head up to observe his surroundings seemed like an agonizing chore.
Just what had happened? Did Dr. Light do some digging in his core to find the source, and maybe fix it? Blues heard a frustrated sigh from somewhere around him. He was so weak that he couldn't determine which direction it came from. Moments after the exasperated sigh, a voice—Dr. Light's—spoke.
"I feared this would happen," he mumbled mostly to himself. The robot heard and curiously tilted his head up, despite the pain, and swallowed hard before speaking.
"D-Doctor, what happened?" Blues's voice was rough and scratchy, almost as if he had caught some sort of cold. The young robot's body trembled as he struggled to keep his head up, only for it to crash down on the metal table. Blues sucked in a sharp gasp from the contact. Dr. Light hovered above him, staring hard into the robot's eyes apologetically.
Dr. Light's eyes closed slowly, as he let out a breath through his nose. He seemed to shake out of fear, seemingly afraid to talk. It was as if he needed to choose his words carefully. The doctor opened his eyes, moisture now threatened to spill from them. Fighting back tears, the good doctor bit his lip lightly before going into detail.
"Blues," Dr. Light said, choking back a sob before continuing, "as advanced as you are, you are still incomplete. A prototype; I was almost certain, however, that the prototype core I created wouldn't have such a.. horrible defect."
Defect. Incomplete. Prototype. The three words that could now be associated with the young robot cut at him like a knife. Without even meaning to, Blues's mind began to wander, coming up with theories he'd rather not imagine. Why would Dr. Light even bother creating him if he were incomplete. The doctor even said so himself that he feared this would happen. But maybe it didn't matter to him. After all, Blues was just a prototype model. A test run. If the test didn't work, then Dr. Light could fix his error, making an even better model. Blues determined that his fate as a prototype robot led to him being scrapped in any given situation.
The thoughts made Blues turn his head away from the doctor. Maybe his circuits were still acting up, and his mind was just unintentionally making these things up. But the possibility that it was truth made the young robot upset. He clenched his fists tightly, rage building up inside of him. The one person in the world that he could call a father, and Blues felt like he couldn't trust him anymore. Dr. Light was very good natured, but for him to lose the robot's trust in an instant, Blues felt like he couldn't trust anyone anymore. Tears began filling the robot's eyes as he turned his head back up to the ceiling. Blues trembled furiously trying to keep them at bay, inhaling sharply to hold back the sobs.
"Does it still hurt?" Dr. Light asked, leaning over him with some sort of tool. In his delirious state, Blues couldn't tell what it was, but the doctor was using it inside his core. "It may take time, but if I keep working, I may be able to fix the defect. But if I'm not careful, I could accidentally alter one of your critical units. You wouldn't be you, anymore."
Blues shivered at the thought, but couldn't will himself to voice a protest. He didn't want to be changed. He liked the way he was now. The robot wanted to just shove the doctor away and run as far as possible, but didn't have the strength. Moments passed until Dr. Light finally closed the panel on Blues's chest, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"This should do for now," he explained letting out a deep sigh of relief. "Before I try to meddle with your circuits, I'd like to do some research first. For now, all I can suggest for you is rest."
Dr. Light turned his back, and the young robot shot him a nasty look. When the doctor turned back around, he handed Blues his yellow scarf. The shirt he wore was scrapped somewhere, as the doctor hastily cut through the fabric when he collapsed, making it unwearable. With that, the robot slung the scarf around his shoulders lazily, and hastily made his way up the stairs. He thought he heard Dr. Light call out to him, but Blues ignored him, quickening his way to his room.
Blues kicked the door to his room shut and fell face first on his bed. The young robot's mind continued to make up bogus scenarios as he hugged his pillow tightly. He began thinking about his defect, as the pain was increasing again. He thought about what it meant. Did it mean he would die? And if so, why would Dr. Light build him if he knew an incomplete status would result in death? It made Blues very uncomfortable to think about it. He wished he had someone to talk to. But the fact of the matter was, he didn't. His only other companion was the doctor himself, and Blues found that he was gradually losing his trust in him.
The young robot didn't like the idea of being a prototype. His only purpose in life was to be a failed experiment. Blues fought back a sob as his grip on his pillow tightened, tears stinging at his eyes. He tried to sleep, but was too troubled from worrying about his eventual fate.
Blues sat up so fast his head nearly rolled off of his shoulders. He decided he wouldn't stick around to see what the doctor had planned for him. Leaving seemed like the only option left. If his energy core shut down in the city, that felt like a much better way to die, rather than being shut down only to be replaced by a newer model. Or just being shut down because of a defect. Blues also feared his personality being altered. He liked who he has grown to be, and didn't want to change. Sure, if he was changed, he probably wouldn't be aware, but the simple thought of it bothered him enough.
After throwing on a long sleeve red shirt—Blues didn't really look, simply grabbing one at random from his dresser—he quietly made his way through the living room. Dr. Light was still working in the lab downstairs, making his escape quite easy. Blues put his shoes on and stealthily slipped out of the house, taking the path that lead to the city.
The young robot broke out into a run as it suddenly began pouring down with heavy rain. Blues supposed it was sometime in the afternoon, but the sun was covered up by dark clouds, so it looked like night. His clothes were soaked within seconds and his hair clung to his face, despite how fast he ran. When he entered the city, there weren't many people walking around. Blues figured the citizens were taking shelter in the buildings, while the people he did see walking around had umbrellas.
There were many shops he could go in, but Blues decided against it. The pain in his chest was getting worse again, and he didn't feel like making a scene. That could result to getting him sent back to Light. He didn't want that. Instead, Blues quickly ran into an empty alleyway—empty, apart from a few garbage bins. It was as if some higher being was smothering him with cruel irony. The robot's defective status made him feel like just that: garbage. Scrap metal. And it was all Light's fault.
"Damn it," Blues cursed under his breath, clenching his chest tightly. The pain started back up, just like before, and he fell to his knees. He didn't want to draw the attention of the few pedestrians out in the stormy weather, so he held his screams at bay. Eventually the young robot was on the ground, rolling in pure agony. His breath caught in his chest and his vision began fading slowly. Blues trembled, trying to will the pain away, trying to stay alive just a little bit longer. He didn't want to die now. In his mind, he continuously cursed his creator for making him suffer.
Just before the dying robot closed his eyes, he could have sworn he saw a figure of someone approaching him.
So it begins.. Til next time!