Zero is up and running before he even attaches a word to the sound he's heard.
It's a wolf's howl.
His feet lead him around Hunter base, following a line of stunned and bemused looking reploids of various stages of dishevelment. It looks like a tornado's swept through the halls.
"Gospel, sit!" Zero hears Rock's voice from down the next corridor. There's more growling and howling, and the dangerous sound of grinding metal. For whatever reason, Zero can't help the flare of panic at the idea of a wolf and Rock in the same location.
His imagination keeps painting the wolf purple and Rock, hurt.
He turns on his dash boosters and skids down the last length of the hall. "Rock, are you oka – "
A large purple mechaniloid jumps at him, and Zero's thought process shuts down as he and his attacker go tumbling in a pile of sharp claws and haphazard limbs.
"Gospel, no!" Rock's voice shouts in a panic, and Zero struggles to right himself while covering his face from a dangerous set of teeth. Fangs bite into his forearm instead, and he winces as they pierce the metal of his armor.
"Why you – " Zero grits his teeth as he reaches back for his saber. He's not sure who let this Irregular into the base, but he'll make quick work of it before it hurts anyone else.
"Gospel, stop! Zero's not going to hurt you!" Rock pleads. When it doesn't work, he adds, "You're our only chance of finding Forte!" and suddenly Zero is released.
Zero blinks stupidly as he watches the purple mechaniloid flatten its ears and back away. Something about Rock's words dig at the back of his processor. Forte? Gospel? Like a word at the tip of his tongue, the names itch at a part of his mind.
He comes back to as he watches Rock put out a tentative hand to pet the mechanical wolf. "Rock, it's dangerous – "
"It's fine," Rock reassures, gently petting the top of the wolf's head. "I'm sorry you woke up so suddenly, Gospel. I wasn't going to reactivate you until later, but…."
The mechaniloid huffs, turning its head away. It glares Zero down and pads around Rock, almost as if to curl around the reploid protectively.
Zero frowns. "Rock, what is that thing?" The kid addressed it like a familiar pet, but with how strong those jaws are – there's no way the mechaniloid is some civilian pet unit. "How did it get into HQ?"
Rock bites his lip, absently scratching behind the wolf's ear. "Uhm, this is Gospel." He gestures with his free hand to the wolf, then at Zero, "Gospel, this is Zero. He's a nice person and… a friend."
Zero tries not to feel a rush of warmth at the title. He fails.
The mechaniloid stares up at Rock with what Zero would call disbelief if he could assign it an emotion. But mechaniloids aren't really capable of such things. That's a reploid's domain.
"Rock, did you catch Gospel – oh no," Roll comes into view, bemusement changing into horror at the state of Zero's arm. "Commander Zero, are you alright?" The child's hand hovers just a hair's breadth away from touching the injury. "Rock, do you have your – "
"I'm fine." Zero reassures, scooting back so he doesn't drip oil all over Roll's dress. The minute patches and faded color speaks for itself. It's a precious article of clothing for the cleanly reploid to hang on to it so long. "I'll get down to the repair bay in a bit. Don't worry."
Roll frowns, the crease between her brow tightening.
"Roll, can you take Gospel back to our room?" Rock asks, tone gentle as he kneels beside his sister. "I'll take care of Zero's repairs."
"Alright," The reploid agrees, subdued. "Come on, Gospel. Stop making so much trouble for people. You're just like your master. Really." Roll calls, halfheartedly reprimanding the mechaniloid.
Zero's eyes follow them until they disappear around the corner. "Rock," Zero starts, but the child arrests his sentence with a stern look.
"I'll explain in a bit." Rock promises. "But let's get your arm fixed up first."
Zero nods, following mutely. There's steel in those eyes, he thinks.
It reminds him of X.
-oo-
Lifesaver hovers for only the first few minutes, satisfied with Rock's repair ability. Zero thinks the reploid is still sore for missing out on having the child on his staff, if the constant glances their way is any indication.
Though that might just be because they walked in here with no explanation but a request to use materials for a quick fixer upper.
And it is incredibly quick – the way Rock patches Zero's arm up. Practiced movements replace tubes and wires, and before he realizes, the repairs are done, and Rock is awkwardly twiddling his thumbs while nanites paint over Zero's new panel of armor.
They sit in silence for a moment. Lifesaver adroitly leaves the room.
Before Zero gets a chance to open his mouth, Rock starts, "I used to have to fix my arm up a lot because of Gospel too."
This does not reassure Zero at all. "I don't know about you, Rock, but by definition, that's pretty much an Irregular." He declares. "I don't know where you guys found it, but it's best we put it down now – "
"No!" Rock cries, panic written over his face. He freezes, realizing his strange outburst. "No, I don't mean…." The reploid sighs, running a hand through his hair. Oil from Zero's repairs leaves a streak across his forehead. "I don't mean that in that sense, Zero." The child's eyes look so old, his face incredibly haggard.
Zero doesn't like it. "I'm not sure how else you expect me to interpret 'this mechaniloid used to take a chunk out of me all the time.'" Zero deadpans, hoping for a response.
Rock doesn't smile. (X would have.) "Gospel belongs… to an old friend of ours." The child explains. "We didn't always get along, so we… fought. That's all."
Zero's only known the kid for a couple months, but even he can say with confidence that violence is not the reploid's usual first response. "Fought." He repeats slowly. A word Rock used during the bout with the wolf mechaniloid comes to Zero's mind. "With Forte?"
Rock freezes.
So he's right. Zero stares the child down. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but from what I heard, you want to find someone you didn't get along with using that Irregular?"
The reploid looks away. "I'd like to think we were friends by the end." Rock says softly.
"By the end." The phrase rings hollow in Zero's audial.
A pause.
"Sorry. I probably don't make a lot of sense to you, huh?" Rock starts, turning back to match eyes with Zero. "After Father died, we slept for a long time." He explains with a thousand-yard stare. "We've lost so much during that period. It might be futile, but I want to try and hold on to what we have left."
These kids have faced loss too, Zero thinks. A lot of people have, thanks to the wars. "How likely do you think it is? Finding that Forte person?" He asks.
Rock blinks, "Huh? Oh," He stutters, mind shifting gear. "Finding him may not be the hard part." The child admits. "Forte might be… hurt. Or even – "
Zero puts a hand on Rock's head. The kid's hair is soft. He thinks he can kind of understand X's preoccupation with patting the child units' heads. "You won't know until you try, right?"
Rock's smile is tentative, a fragile thing. "Right."