R&R
Oil, fuel, and coolants we're comforting fragrances, the buzz of the radio was a familiar ASMR, and the intricate dance of Lombax and starfighter engines was a practiced one. Normally this was the best way to unwind, to take all the hardships, all the bad memories, and dump them into the intake line with the rest of the cleansing solution. This was supposed to be a feeling of normal after such an upset.
This was anything but normal. No matter how many substances he got on his person his nose just smelled rot. No matter how loud the radio buzzed his ears just heard CRUNCH. Despite years of repeating the same movements, the familiar dance became a fumble.
They were in a lull now. Clank and Kit weren't sure about their next step, they needed time to review and sort the data. It was a new dimension after all and it had been fairly dissimilar from either Ratchet's or River's dimension. So they drifted quickly towards nowhere.
He wasn't 'okay' by any means. He had been through enough to know how to keep it together. He knew it was the quiet moments that were the most dangerous.
So he worked. He did a complete tuneup on Aphelion. The ship's AI had purred at the attention but it had a few choice words when the simple tuneup went beyond to overhaul territory. So he moved on to Azimuth. The lack of AI made it so his tampering was unopposed. He would be able to get away with anything, at least that's what he hoped.
Somehow, the ship seemed to fight him on everything. Nuts and bolts being too tight or fused down, frayed and exposed wiring that needed to be wrapped or even replaced. It had undergone neglect in his care, Rivet had taken it up and pieced it back together, but she probably hadn't had time for such a diligent tuneup. Everything about that ship was a reminder of his failures. He kept pushing off his responsibilities.
He was right.
He was under the ship working on the repulsors. The maglift gave reasonable assurance that the ship wouldn't crush him suddenly, but he was wondering if the ship itself didn't have the intention of crushing him. This new paranoia in mind, Ratchet moved to the flight stabilizer with Omniwrench in hand. Regardless of the job, taking something apart was always easier than putting it back together. The right stabilizer had taken a bit of a beating. It looked like Rivet had hammered out most of the dents (perhaps literally) but it still needed a bit of fine tuning.
I'd rather not have to replace it down the line.
He set about removing the stabilizer altogether. This might've been a bit excessive, additionally it might cause the ship to be out of commission, but he had been putting this off long enough. Besides, this should keep him busy. Should.
Despite his best efforts, Ratchet's thoughts were soon filled with memories of late nights playing hologames, technical projects he took on but had no real commitment to finishing, and relationships he had cultivated but let down. All those memories, good and bad, twisted and tasted sour. There was no joy in them.
All that time wasted. I could've been helping them.
He paused in his work.
I've let a lot of people down. I'm sorry Grim.
He heard the door to the hanger open. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a small little Lombax step in, it's face caked in, well cake, and it's lips smacking obnoxiously. Ratchet went back to his work, deciding that if Crash needed something he could always say so. He was somewhat aware of Crash standing in place and staring at him, watching him work. Then he came over and started peering over Ratchet as he worked, lips still struggling with the icing. Then he set himself parallel to Ratchet.
"Why did you take the wing off?"
"I'm just buffing out the flight stabilizer. Try to keep it in working order."
"Looks okay to me."
"See this, it's supposed to be smooth and streamlined."
"Why is it dented?"
"Me and Rivet can be pretty … um, competitive."
Maybe that was her flirting with you? No! Just Lombaxes doing Lombax things!
"Why is the coolant blue?"
"Uh … I don't k-"
"What's that thing called?"
"That's a filter cap."
"Can I have that filter cap?"
"Uh, no…."
"Kar would always say that I can't mess with the compressor but I would do it anyway."
"Heh, well I've messed with the compressor plenty. Plenty. I haven't blown the thrust too many times."
That's a lie.
"Why is cake called cake? It sounds funny … cake."
"Uhhh, I … uh… ask Rivet."
"Do you think I can have a robot too?"
"Huh?"
"You and Aunty Rivet have robots, do you think I can get one?"
"Well, heh, we don't exactly have robots. Clank and Kit are our friends."
"Then can I have a robot friend?"
"If someone comes along and they want to join us, then sure I guess."
"Hmm, can I help?"
"Uh, sure. Hand me that airgun and hold this light."
"I can do more than hold the light!"
"Heh, I'm sure you can buddy."
"I can!"
"Hey, no worries! I believe you Crash."
"Then I can help?"
"Holding the light is helpful."
"I mean I can do more important stuff, like cycle the coolant, or change out the phase capacitors, or maybe even fuse the ion coils!"
"Or, you can hold the light?"
"You don't think I can do it?"
"Oh I know you can do it."
"Then why can't I do it?!"
"Because I want to do it."
"…"
"…"
"Maybe we can do it together?"
"Eh…"
"Please!"
"Okay, just don't get cake on everything."
"Yes!"
After a thorough wipe down, they lowered the fighter on the maglift and Lombax boy and Lombax adult set themselves to task. It was clear to Ratchet almost immediately that the kid had the head knowledge but all of his practical experience had been set in a desert. He favored certain tools far beyond their intended purpose, and this was Ratchet with this opinion and he had built a whole ship primarily through his omniwrench, but there was only so much you could do with a hammer. He had no idea how to change out the phase capacitors other than to rip them out, cycling new coolants involved a can of soda somehow, and Ratchet wasn't even about to let him handle fusing new ion coils. Even with all that though, the kid wasn't half bad.
"Hey, how about you grease the thrust axle pedals?"
That should be easy enough.
"Okie dokie."
The kid leaped away and bounded over on top of the cockpit.
Finally.
He picked himself up to move back to the stabilizer.
"I love you uncle!"
He dropped his Omniwrench.
"…"
The kid didn't wait for the response. He jumped right into the joys of Star fighter maintenance.
"…"
Two days Ratchet. You've known him for two freaking days.
A crash sounded near the toolbench.
"I'm okay!"
Ratchet's twitching ears were the only acknowledgment that he had even heard the crash.
He's just a kid. He doesn't know what he's saying. If you gave him a candy bar he would probably say it.
He shook his head, tongue dangling out of his mouth as he cleared his mind of all uncomfortable thoughts. Reclaiming his wrench he set himself to task. The armored panels on the stabilizer were always a pain to remove. But he had had enough practice on Aphelion that the prospect wasn't backbreaking.
This should keep you nice and busy.
Another crash.
"Uncle!?"
Sighing, Ratchet turned towards the direction of the cry, his view obfuscated by the fighter.
"What!?"
"Do we have more than one air gun!?"
You didn't!
"Yes! Why!?"
"Oh, no reason! Just double checking!"
Ratchet had to will himself to not check out what was happening.
Just let the kid do his thing. He can't break that many things.
His mind flashed to the Aurelian light cruiser he had 'broke' and the tongue lashing Grim had given him.
You need to check on him.
"Hey Crash, what are you working on?"
The child darted up to Ratchet like green on beans.
"Hi uncle!"
"Uh."
"I'm not doing anything!"
"… Okay …"
"I'm just … doing kid stuff!"
"Like what?"
"…"
"…"
"Um, dancing!"
Crash began to dance at a sporadic rhythm. Ratchet just watched for a second as the boy didn't break eye contact while performing his jig.
"Nice song to dance to."
"It's my favorite!"
"Hey computer, can you turn the radio up!?"
The radio buzzed all the louder, filling the hanger with its monotonous voice.
"Despite the fact that the proposed increase to capital gains tax is projected to help the government meet budgeting short falls, some high councillors still disagree. Joined with me today is high councilor Guld. Councilor, thank you for coming."
Crash looked wide eyed at his uncle but he kept dancing.
"This is so good uncle! You should dance too!"
"I think I'm good kid. So what was that crash I heard?"
"Er, the radio!"
"You know Kurt, fair is a four letter word that starts with 'f.' Plenty of people get faired in life. Simply stating that people should pay their fair share doesn't mean we actually agree on what fair is, let alone agree on how much the Premier needs to fund his bill."
He raised a brow at the kid.
"Good attempt, but no."
Crash was licking his lips as his eyes darted around the hangar.
"Hey! What's that over there!"
"I'm not falling for one Crash."
"Just look!"
"No."
"Uncle! Trust me! Look!"
"Crash, you're pulling my leg."
"No I'm not! There's something very important you need to see behind you!"
"Crash, it's the oldest trick in the book."
"There is no book Uncle! Just trust your nephew!"
Taking a deep breath, Ratchet turned towards the endpoint of Crash's finger trajectory.
Nothing.
He turned back to Crash.
Also nothing.
In place of Crash stood empty space and dust particles left in the wake of the kid's daring escape.
How does he think this is going to end?
Releasing his breath, Ratchet moved to investigate the cause of the crash. He moved to the workbench and found most of the tools where he left them. Ratchet was mostly satisfied to see his airgun intact. He did, however, notice Rivet's airgun was missing.
Been nice knowing you kid.
He turned back to the fighter. He noticed debris near the base of the cockpit.
Let's see what we're dealing with.
Laying in a pile of ruin was an airgun. The white tape wrapped around the now detached grip clearly marked the tool as Rivet's. He did however notice a screwdriver with orange tape shoved up the barrel.
It's like he was trying to get Rivet to kill me.
He shook his head and moved to retrieve his screwdriver from the barrel. He began wrestling with the screwdriver now jammed thoroughly in the airgun. That was when he noticed more debris directly under the fighter right below the cockpit. Ducking his head down he noticed molten slag cooling on the deck of the Phoenix. Then a glob of molten metal plopped down from the fighter.
Lightning was envious of his speed as he jumped from under the ship to atop the cockpit. He stared open mouthed at the sight before him.
I'm not really seeing this!
The edges of the hole were still glowing cherry red.
There's no way he could do something like this!
He could see straight through the cockpit right down to the hangar floor.
How?
The axle thrust pedals and the auxiliary batteries were nothing but liquid metal spilling on the hangar floor.
My back was turned for two minutes!
Ratchet couldn't comprehend much of anything at present. His mind was just as mushy as the thrust pedals were but the sudden agony brought surprising clarity.
The General's Fighter!
He grabbed ahold of his ears and pulled them down hard, desperate to provide some relief to what he was experiencing.
Alister's fighter!
He was biting down so hard a crowbar couldn't unclench his jaw. He was about to rip his ears right off of his skull. His stomach was ice.
I'm sorry!
He felt a surge of intensity, a need to do something. He felt like launching himself at something, beat something, rip something. His body was shuddering.
A small hand started to pat him on the back.
"I'm sorry Uncle! I can fix it!"
He stiffened before whirring round on the child, fully prepared to let him have it.
His eyes met the cereal bowl eyes of the kid. The kid's ears were laid back, his nose was actively sniffing, his mouth was trembling. He looked absolutely terrified.
His mind flashed with all the memories of his many failures in Grim's shop. Grim had never laid a hand on him but Grim still made him feel his failure though. When we wrecked the Aurelian light cruiser, Grim didn't let him work for three weeks. Years after the fact Grim would still razz him about it.
Ratchet didn't want that for Crash.
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and forced a toothy smile. Crash visibly relaxed just at the sight. He gave Crash a good scratch behind the ears.
"'We' can fix it buddy. Grab the fusion cutter. We'll patch this right up in no time."
This is going to take hours.
Crash just smiled right back, eyes flashing with excitement before darting off to find the dangerous flammable tool.
What have I done?
Ratchet just looked at the still smoldering hole in the middle of the General's fighter. He plopped down on top of the fuselage, legs criss crossed and head in his hand.
"I love you uncle!" cut across the hangar before he could spare another thought on anything.
Two days. Grim didn't even say it once in ten years.
Ratchet had decided to work in the hangar precisely so he wouldn't spend time thinking about depressing thoughts, yet here he was. He stood to retrieve the rest of the materials needed. The project had just expanded, and it was also readily apparent that Crash needed a lot more guidance.
At least on fighter repair.
Bounding back to Ratchet with a fusion cutter in hand, Crash was vibrating with excitement. Ratchet found himself smiling despite himself. He had completed bigger projects in less time. They'd get everything shipshape before Rivet discovered that they had messed up her fighter.
I hope.
The next two hours were spent consulting schematics, clearing away and removing damaged parts and wiring, choosing new parts, replacing wiring, and of course, fusing the hole up. Ratchet was a bit stuck on the pedals though. They had replacement pedals in the inventory but they were entirely different from the original and Rivet would no doubt pick up on that difference. He doubted his skillset in fabricating new pedals in the timeframe that he was working under.
That and Lombax metallurgy is a pain to replicate. Don't think about them Ratchet.
At present he was stuck looking over the schematics of the ship, more accurately the schematics that he made of the ship. They had done the brunt of the work, it had taken more materials than he'd like but the ship should be up to snuff, he just had nothing on the pedals.
The one thing she'd notice too. I can picture it already, 'hey Ratchet the pedals are sticking a bit and I noticed that they're made for something other than Lombaxes. Also I noticed your screwdriver shoved up my airgun!'
He licked his suddenly dry lips. He'd need an out, an excuse.
A scapegoat.
He couldn't pick the kid. Rivet would never believe that Clank and Kit were capable of damaging the ship.
Qwark then.
That matter out of the way, he decided to get something to eat.
"Hey Crash, you hungry?"
The kid leaped over the fighter with a flourish flip and planted himself right in front of Ratchet. He nodded viciously.
"Heh, how about you head up to the galley and pick us up something?"
"Can I have cake?"
He's going to grab it anyway.
"Only if you grab me some."
With no other words being needed, the kid warped to the galley. Now free from childcare for the briefest of moments, Ratchet returned to the schematics. He still had to attach the new pedals in addition to finish up the work with the stabilizer.
It's getting late, you might be working through the night.
Ratchet heard the hangar door open. His ears picked up the footfalls of the man before he actually saw Qwark. The big ears do have their perks.
He sighed to himself fully prepared to deal with something he had no patience in dealing with.
"Hey Qwark what's…." His voice faded when he turned to look at the hero. Qwark's entire being held none of his trademark amusement, none of his jovial nature. Ratchet had seen this before but it was no less jarring.
"Uh, what's wr- OOF"
He was actively being crushed against Qwark's far too massive pectorals.
"There, there Ratchet! Just let it out! Don't let all these feelings of anguish and dread remain bottled up! I'm here for you! Cry! Cry into the bosom of your ever faithful friend! I won't judge you when you break down sobbing like a mewing infant!"
If Ratchet could cry due to oxygen deprivation he would, but as crying requires oxygen he couldn't.
"Clank told me all about it! I'm so sorry! I can't imagine what you may be going through, but if there's anything you need, just ask!"
"Ahg"
"What?!"
"Ahg"
"You're going to have to enunciate Ratchet!"
"Air!"
"Air?! Why would you possibly need air?!"
"Sfph"
"Huh?"
"Ahg"
"Oh. Sorry."
Years of physical therapy could not undo the damage done to Ratchet's spine, the lack of oxygen probably permanently damaged his cerebral functions, but Ratchet was still touched by Qwark's concern. He was still going to set him up though.
"Thanks Qwark," He panted out.
"No need to thank me! You've been a good friend Ratchet."
Ratchet found himself holding his much needed breath. He'd never actually expected this out of Qwark. He didn't know how to address it.
Qwark, for his part, seemed just as uncomfortable with the sudden amiability as his eyes darted around the hangar.
"Besides, I need a vacation from all the campaigning and what better way to blow off some steam than to fight evil with my trusty sidekick, eh?!"
He flashed Ratchet his poster smile, complete with a thumbs up and a wink. His typical schtick.
"Yeah Qwark, it's good to have you here."
I can't believe I actually meant that.
Qwark's smile faltered. Ratchet didn't know how easily Qwark read him, he'd always assumed that he was unable to read anyone including himself, but the sudden uncomfortable stance said otherwise. Qwark was rubbing the back of his head like he had a rash and he seemed fixated on some unspecified point in the hangar. Yet, he turned back to Ratchet anyway.
"Hey Ratchet."
"Yeah Qwark?"
"You can always, uh, talk to me if you need to. You uh, know that right?"
"Uh, sure Qwark. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."
"Oh good," he said while nodding. "That's good."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Well…."
"Well…."
"..."
"..."
The hangar door opened.
"Uncle, I brought hot dogs!"
I'm saved!
The little Lombax was carrying a tray that was almost as large as he was, it was probably twice his weight in food. Hot dogs made up a very small portion though. Mostly sweets of various kinds.
"Oh, dinner time already?!"
"Yep! Do you want some Mr. Qwark?!"
"You can drop the mister cadet … it's 'captain' Qwark!"
"Okie dokie Captain!"
"You want a frank Qwark?"
"Don't mind if I do."
The franks in question hadn't been heated though. Ratchet had just the solution in mind, all he'd need was eight bolts, recalibration of the maglift for lower density, Aphelion's thruster, and four franks. The bolts were fitted on each end of the frank, the maglift kept the franks suspended, and Aphelion's thruster gave them a much needed burn. Not the worst impromptu barbecue in his opinion.
He heard the door open again. He turned to greet whoever it was and the room suddenly grew twice as warm. Rivet stood in the doorway with a towel over her shoulder. She was panting heavily and she held her water bottle like she had just taken a swig. She had obviously just finished up a workout, probably trying to clear up some things like he was. Her clothing choice was … enlightening to Ratchet. Her eyes were wide.
Ratchet's blood chilled in realization.
Can she see? Can she see the work done to Azimuth?
He turned around and found nothing that would give away their work. The stabilizer was still detached but that was no biggie, he had an excuse.
Maybe she smells the molten pedals? Or may-
His thoughts died when he heard her laughing. He turned and found her leaning against the doorpost, bent over in laughter. He turned around to see the source of the humor but all he saw was Qwark and Crash peering over at her curiously.
"Uh, care to include us on the joke Riv?"
She just pointed at them.
"What?"
She gasped, "Ratchet, just look!"
He turned around again. The hotdogs weren't ready yet, they were still cooking. The stabilizer was still detached. Crash and Qwark were staring at the cooking franks.
I don't see what's so funny.
A hand clapped down on his shoulder.
"Of all the things I expected to see when I walked in here, this was not one of them."
"What?"
She just looked at him with a raised brow and a slight smirk. She gestured with her prosthetic arm back to the franks. He followed her direction to find, again, nothing unusual.
"So when am I supposed to laugh again?"
She just smiled all the brighter. He looked back with an eye roll.
"..."
"..."
Oh.
It dawned on him. Here was a galaxy renowned super hero, a small Lombax child, and himself, standing around drooling as a starfighter engine cooked floating hotdogs.
When you put it like that ….
He put a hand to his mouth as he noticed that Crash really was drooling while staring up at the floating franks. He wasn't about to laugh at the kid. He wasn't.
Of course the slight cough in his throat had to be dealt with but that was all.
"Where did you even come up with that idea anyway?"
"The floating franks?"
"What else?"
"It's actually Grim's idea. He called it, 'multitasking.'"
"Who's Grim?"
"Grim was my boss, back when I used to work in his shop."
"Back before you started to hero full time you mean?"
"Yeah."
"..."
"..."
"So why haven't you said anything about him till now?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you've met the Morts. I used to work for them and I've known them since I was little. I'm guessing Grim was a similar story?"
"I ... guess that works."
"I'm sorry, is it a touchy subject?"
"Nah, he's just … not around anymore."
"Oh, sorry."
"Yeah, no big. He's been gone for years."
Ratchet watched as Qwark and Crash tried to grab the franks with tongs only for said tongs to be pulled from their grasp by the mag lift.
"Guess that's kinda an obvious reason why I haven't met him, heh."
"Hey, it's okay. Like I said, he's been gone for years."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"Grim wasn't exactly 'dad' material. He did his best I guess."
"I don't exactly consider the Morts my parents either. They kinda had the job and I'm always going to be grateful but they were never mom and dad."
He nodded, glad that she understood where he was coming from. He watched as Crash's eureka moment included turning off the mag lift. Qwark at the ready to catch the franks with a tray. The operation was mostly successful as Qwark succeeded in catching the franks but he was also successful in catching the tongs with his head.
"You want a frank?"
"I'd love one, but calling it frank is weird."
"What would you call it then?"
She shrugged, "Weenie I guess."
He snickered. She slapped him on the back of his head.
"A little maturity please!"
"You're the one calling it weenie."
He ducked the next right handed slap, she moved to catch him with her left, but he was in the better position to execute his next move.
He pounced.
Her arms were extended from her swings and she was soon caught in a grapple. His left arms wrapped underneath her right and his right wrapped over her shoulder to grab hold of his wrist. Pressed against one another, Rivet would have difficulty in getting enough distance to throw blows and her dreaded robot arm was caught in an exasperated position where it couldn't fully utilize its strength. He turned his head to flash her a victorious grin only for it to die instantly.
His face was centimeters from her's. He was breathing her air. His nose was assaulted by her scent. He realized that his grapple was more akin to an embrace. His arms were tight around her. He honestly wouldn't have noticed any of this if she had been resisting, but as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, she froze. She was the best fighter he knew and he would be fighting for his life if she was resisting.
Instead, she was looking at him with an expression he couldn't name. She seemed to relax into the grip instead of stiffen. She didn't lean in, but her eyes were fixed on his. Her eyes were as blue as the waters of Pokitaru, and as if they were planets, he found himself caught in their gravity. He couldn't look away.
"Room, you two!"
He didn't even hear what Qwark said. Rivet's eyes were the center of his universe.
"Uncle, are you giving me cousins now?"
That did it.
The collective jaws of everyone were on the floor. Crash's incredulity was not even considered. One could cut the silence with a knife. Everyone stared at Crash.
"What?" he asked in a sudden wash of insecurity.
"..."
"..."
"Well, at least you don't have to give him 'the talk,' huh guys?"
"I know a lot Captain Qwark! When they kiss Aunty Rivet will get a baby in her belly!"
"Oh, never mind then."
Ratchet and Rivet disentangled themselves rapidly. Ratchet felt his stomach churn in embarrassment, Rivet clawed at the back of her head, but neither looked at the other.
"Eat first uncle!"
"Ahem, yeah sure. No problem."
Rivet and Ratchet sat at a respectable distance from one another. Aphelion had cut her engines as the group began to seat themselves on whatever could function as a chair. As everyone began to eat, Ratchet discovered that he wasn't hungry anymore. He was staring straight at the deck.
You're just sensitive right now. A lot's happened.
He forced a bite.
You're both hurting, you're both young, you're both needing comfort.
He began to slowly chew.
That's all it is.
He still chewed.
She just has a crush is all. Nothing wrong with that.
He swallowed then forced another bite.
I mean, you find her attractive too. There's nothing wrong with attraction. It doesn't mean anything.
He slowly ground up the food. His ears twitched as an excitable Crash began to widely gesture as he started to tell a story.
She's infatuated because you're the only other Lombax she's ever met. When she meets another adult the magic will be gone,
Her laughter caught his attention. She was diligently listening to Crash tell his tale, but as soon as he turned she glanced his way and their eyes met. He looked away but the damage was catastrophic.
As simple as Ratchet was, a small part of him lended itself to the abstract. He preferred the concreteness of mechanic's work, weapons, and fighting, but he wasn't operating in that mindset all the time.
This isn't a crush.
He risked another look. She was shoveling food in her face with table manners that were only equaled by Ratchet himself. She was absolutely gorgeous.
This isn't good.
"Uncle, can we cook more hotdogs?"
He didn't even acknowledge the request. His legs moved on autopilot. He was already fitting more franks with bolts.
This isn't just because you're both raw. This isn't pain.
He dropped a frank as his thoughts sapped the dexterity of his fingers. He felt a familiar sensation in his stomach. A mixture of nausea and excitement.
You know what pain is, you know what it does. No, what you found on Opherion IV was just a douse of cold water.
He finished with the franks and thumbed on the maglift. He threw the unhealthy non-foods into the magnetic well. He cleared his throat.
"Aphelion, activate engines."
"Please specify power levels."
"Ful-" he caught himself before he could fully give the order.
At this distance it would've burned you alive. You're already at risk of burning Ratchet.
"Neutral engines."
"Confirmed."
He walked back to the group, still sitting around and chattering. Qwark was talking it up now. He was giving them a grand retelling of how they first met.
Every word was a lie or half-truth.
"Ratchet looked up to me for years! He grew up being fed stories of my heroics!"
Ratchet's ears were twitching now, he clenched his jaw and hopped up on his workbench. He resumed eating his food despite everything tasting like sand. Qwark continued to prattle on.
"He was overwhelmed by the offer of joining the Galactic Rangers! Why, he was akin to my pet Rooth Hound that had a nasty habit of wetting himself whenever I came around!"
Crash was giggling while Rivet simply smirked. Of course, he only caught this in his peripheral vision. He didn't dare turn to meet her eyes again.
The door opened and Clank and Kit waltzed in.
Please have news! Tell us where to go next! Tell us that there are more Lombaxes left!
Clank hopped up beside him and fixed his attention on Qwark's retelling. He did however, leaned over with a hand cupping his mouth.
"We haven't made any definitive choices. Much of the data is years old and the library database was limited. Kit suggested a break, I hope you don't mind."
He successfully kept the disappointment from his voice when he gave the bot a nudge, "No problem buddy, you don't need to kill yourself on this."
Clank tilted his head for a second but smiled all the same. He turned his attention back to Qwark's lies.
"Try as he might! Ratchet still couldn't breathe underwater!"
I mean come on! I'm not a moron!
Clank leaned over to him.
"You know, even if most of what he is saying is blatant lies, he's quite good at storytelling."
"Well, he is a politician."
Qwark was still sputtering on.
"It was at this point, when all hope seemed lost that Ratchet's caring guardian, Grim, gave Ratchet the sage like wisdom he needed t-"
"That's bull and you know it! You never even met Grim!"
"Ah ha! But are you saying he never gave you sage like wisdom in all the years you knew him!"
"No! Not once! Do you know what he said when I got back from our first 'adventure?'"
Qwark was staring a bit surprised at the interruption but shook his head anyway.
"He said, 'oh hey Ratchet, you're back. The job list is where it normally is. Get back to work.' That's it! I save the galaxy and all he has to say is get back to work."
He plopped back down. Everyone was looking at him. Staring really. He didn't shy away from the stares but he was careful not to exchange looks with Rivet.
"I would've said thank you Uncle!"
All of his annoyance sizzled out in an instant. He had no idea what he was going to do with this kid.
"Thanks buddy."
"Yeah, thanks for saving the galaxy and the universes Ratchet!"
Still can't look at her.
"Thanks Rivet, you too."
"Thank you Ratchet for saving the universes and being a good friend!"
"Aw, you're welcome Kit. Thanks for the same!"
"And you have always had my thanks Ratchet, but I can never say it enough. Thank you for being the best friend I could've ever asked for!"
"Thanks pal, I … I would've been dead without you buddy. You've been with me through everything. I'm glad you're with me now."
Silence now permeated the room but also an alien feeling started to creep up Ratchet's spine. Everyone gathered together, supporting him despite his being a jerk.
What's going on?
"Ahem, Ratchet?!"
Qwark was now standing but his head was downcast, almost like he was ashamed.
"I know I've never said it, but you're like a brother to me!"
Ratchet's jaw was on the floor.
"A little brother!"
That's the nicest thing Qwark has ever said in, well, ever!
"A very little brother!"
I think he might be belaboring this point.
"The kind of brother that people couldn't believe was actually a brother unless genetic tests could be produced and verified!"
Okay, now we know the universe isn't ending.
"But regardless of diminutive size, you've always been there for me! Even that one time when I kinda sort of deserved it. And I want to say thank you."
"…"
He stared at this group of people. Some he's only known for a few months and others had been around all of his life. All smiles and cheerful moods. It was like they hadn't just witnessed genocide hours ago. Like they weren't in danger.
Like we're a family.
He met each of their gazes. His ears were laid back, and his tail was thumping the bench. He met her eyes last.
You love her.
Her eyes had frozen him in place. She was giving the same dazzling smile he had seen on her when they beat Nefarious. Her tough veneer wasn't even a sham to him, it was just seasoning that made her soft side all the more desirable.
You fell in love with her, you moron!
He broke eye contact, forcing his eyes down. He willed his heart to calm itself. He couldn't though. His heart was about to burst out of his chest.
You can't love her!
Clank had mounted the workbench and was now addressing the group.
"Perhaps I can tell the story as I remember it. I do have ample video footage to compliment the narrative."
"Huh, you mean we can watch your memories again?" Rivet asked, her feet propped up on a fuel drum and her head resting on supply boxes.
"In a manner of speaking, I've actually been editing footage to fit a new video autobiography series. Just a small hobby really."
"Oh, you should test it on us!" Kit stated excitedly.
Ratchet felt his stomach tighten. Rivet was perfectly relaxed but she started to sit up and focus her attention on Clank. The small movement and the little grunt when she sat up was the only thing that was happening in the universe. She raised her legs off the fuel drum and let them dangle from her seat. He was hypnotized.
I can't love her!
He stood. "Welp! I really appreciate it guys but it's getting late and we have a long day ahead of us! Night!"
He turned and began to leave before he could hear their responses. A sputtering of 'goodnights' followed him out the door. He didn't slow down. His feet continued to carry him past the shared room and right to the galley. He walked right over to the lounge and threw himself on the couch.
It's all good Ratchet. Rivet doesn't know. She doesn't know and she doesn't love you. Why would she?
Ratchet didn't like the implications. He didn't like any of this. It was all wrong.
This is dangerous.
He rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut.
Just sleep Ratchet. Just sleep and forget about this tomorrow. Remember, Rivet might kill you when she finds out what happened to Azimuth?
That comforting thought in mind he snuggled into the armrest and closed his eyes.
Just sleep.
PLOP
His eyes flew open. He turned and found Rivet already quite comfortable on the couch with the remote in hand. She was scanning through the channels, her eyes committed to the task.
"Wha?"
"Sup."
"What's … what's going on?"
"Movie night, remember?"
"Movie night?"
"Yeah, movie night."
She turned and looked at him with a raised brow.
"Don't you remember? We said we'd make it a thing."
No! I was half asleep and I would have agreed with anything.
"Yeah, movie night. Totally remember that and when we discussed it. Yep. Movie night."
Her unimpressed eyebrow stayed precariously raised. Eventually, she turned back to screen.
"I thought about maybe skipping tonight. Bad news and everything. But … but I think it's a good thing to hold on to something normal, you know?"
She glanced down at her prosthetic arm. Twitching her fingers with the accompaniment of slight clicking sounds.
"Sometimes you just need to face it and decide to keep living even with all the bad stuff. Because you're still alive and being alive and happy is the best payback."
"…"
"This might not help us discover the Lombaxes, it might not help us beat those Hunters, but I'm not about to let them steal our happiness! I fought too hard for that!"
I'm in trouble.
"So sit up and get comfy."
She gave him a series of powerful thumps on his thigh, killing any chance of sleep. She picked season three of Lance and Janet, the good season, right before everything became a jumbled unbelievable mess. Then she hit play.
He wasn't watching though. His eyes were stuck on her. She didn't pay him any mind but she did reach over and pat him on the thigh once more.
You're doomed Ratchet. This is going to be the death of you.
The door opened and in walked Crash. He didn't say anything, instead he leaped over the coffee table and landed right between the pair of Lombaxes.
Rivet gave the kids a good ruffle on the head. He grinned up at her before throwing his hands behind his head and deflating into the couch. Ratchet had no idea how a kid could look so relaxed.
"Love you Aunty!"
To her credit she didn't spit up her drink, but she was choking now. Ratchet leaned over to give her a couple of smacks on the back. She composed herself and stared back at the boy with wide eyes. She glanced up at Ratchet. Their eyes locked.
As warm and blue as Pokitaru.
"I love you too."
A/N: (insert reasonable excuse for missing deadline here)
In any case, here's a chapter. I hope you like it. This took a bit of work. Kind of a slow chapter but I hope you had a good laugh. It was a lot of fun to write.
I also wanted to extend my thanks for the kind words as well as the people that took the time to check up on an internet stranger. You folks are the best!
I give no due date on the next chapter, but it shall be posted!
If nothing else, I hope the sight of Qwark drooling over floating hotdogs stays with you forever.
Be well,
Karl