Clank came online feeling very strange indeed. His internal mechanisms seemed to be working in a slightly different way than when he had plugged himself in, though it did not seem to be hampering his functioning. He tried to online his optics, but they did not work. He tried again, and he got a vague flicker of pixels. A hand pressed against his chassis before he could try again.
"Clank? You trying to come online?"
Clank tried once again to online his optics, and this time he got a blurry image of Ratchet standing in front of him with a look of great concern on his face. There was a click and Ratchet spoke a bit further away.
"Al? I think he's coming online now, but he's having trouble booting up."
"Try resetting his protocols," Al said. "There's a small switch inside of his chassis. Press and hold for thirty seconds and he should reboot smoothly. Call me if he doesn't."
"Sure thing," Ratchet said.
This time Clank could hear Ratchet's soft footsteps as he came back over.
"Okay, Clank. I'm going to open you up and reset your protocols."
Clank wondered why Ratchet was not just doing so, but as his hands slipped into his chassis, a burst of scrambled memory files washed through his processor. He panicked, unable to move as Ratchet clicked the switch and began to count. The steady counting soothed Clank's agitation and he focused on Ratchet's voice. At thirty, everything shut off.
The next thing Clank knew, he erupted out of stasis and found himself clutching at Ratchet's wrists, trying to stop him from…
From what, exactly?
Ratchet didn't look surprised, but he still looked worried as he gently withdrew his hands from Clank's internals and closed his chassis. He gazed at Clank with genuine fear, but when he spoke, his voice was casual.
"So, how are you, Clank?"
Clank considered this. He did not know precisely how to answer. He was full of an uncomfortable buzzing awareness of his entire body, and yet he knew physically he was just fine.
"Clank?" Ratchet asked brokenly.
Clank turned his attention back to Ratchet and was surprised to see tears glittering down his furred cheeks. He reached out and touched Clank's face, looking as if his world had ended.
"Yes, Ratchet?" Clank asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"
The relief that washed over Ratchet's expression was something to behold. The tears were no longer sad ones, but happy ones.
"Oh, Clank!" Ratchet sobbed and to Clank's immense surprise, he was embraced and squeezed tightly. "You're okay," he moaned over and over again. "You're okay. You're okay."
"Am I?" Clank asked after a few repetitions.
Ratchet pulled back, looking him over. "How do you feel?"
"Unusual," Clank replied. He looked at his hands and his optics narrowed at he flexed them.
"Unusual how?" Ratchet asked.
"I am not sure," Clank said plainly.
"Should I get Al?" Ratchet said, leaning toward the computer. "He's swinging by later to check on you again."
"I do not think that is necessary," Clank replied. He looked down at his chassis and pressed his hands over it. Ratchet continued to watch him as he opened himself up and felt around. Then he shut his chassis again and shook his head, clearly puzzled.
"I feel as if something is different," Clank said.
"What do you mean?"
"When you reached in to reset me, I was afraid you would do something bad to me, though I have no reason to think that."
Ratchet sighed heavily. "Al said this might happen. First thing I need to know is, what's the last thing you remember clearly?"
Clank went through his processor until quite abruptly there were no whole memory files to look at. There was simply that same flash of pixelated memories and a laugh. Clank clamped his hands over his chassis, letting out a shriek of terror and shock as a terrible burning filled him. He began to rattle against the floor as his systems grew warmer with distress. Then Ratchet picked him up and held him in his lap, holding him close.
"It's okay, Clank. You're here with me, not there with him," he said gently.
Who, Clank wondered. Then the pixels flashed again and he knew who. He just did not know what or why.
"Nefarious," he spat, static lacing his words.
"Is that the last thing you remember?"
Clank had forgotten that he was supposed to be answering a question, so he focused past the pixelated files and found more memories.
"The last thing I recall is going to watch my movie," Clank said at last. "Though I believe there is something wrong with my memory banks. I have a space where the files are…"
"Corrupted," Ratchet finished for him. "Yeah. Al did his best, but he couldn't save some memories. I'm sorry. But I am glad you remember that awesome movie."
"You did not seem to like it," Clank replied, his tone a bit accusatory.
"I know, and I'm sorry. But I don't like that director. He fired me and you didn't say anything."
"I was not aware that I was supposed to," Clank said.
"And everybody wanted to talk to you, like you're the bigshot."
Clank couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I am no bigshot, Ratchet. That is you. But I thank you for the compliment. Though I cannot help the way the galaxy responds to my movie. I am not exactly sure I will like the attention. I would much rather assist you than be a bigshot."
"I appreciate it," Ratchet said. "But if one more person calls me a chauffeur…"
Clank laughed again. Then he looked down at his open chassis and narrowed his optics. "Is there damage? I remember wondering about damage from whatever he did. But I cannot recall what he did."
Ratchet hesitated then stood up and carried Clank to the table. He set him down then retrieved a stack of pictures. Without a word, he passed them over. Clank observed the grim, sickly look on Ratchet's face then looked at the pictures. His internal mechanisms seemed to freeze then stutter as he flipped through them. There was damage. A lot of damage.
"How are we going to fix this?!" Clank asked, his voice wild. "I am a unique model, Ratchet! Mother will not be able to help. She glitched the system for me, but she cannot produce parts like I will need!"
"Hey, hey, calm down," Ratchet soothed, reaching out to point inside of him. "You're already fixed. That's why Al's staying in the vacant apartment. We figured everything out. It's okay. You're okay. I told you that, right?"
"Twelve times," Clank affirmed, calming down considerably.
"Well, I was serious. We had to replace pretty much everything, but you're as good as new."
Clank stared at Ratchet for a moment before he shook his head. "You are wrong."
"Wrong?" Ratchet pressed.
"I cannot describe it," Clank said. "But I fear the damage is more than physical. Why were the files corrupted to begin with?"
Ratchet licked his lips nervously. "From what Al could gather from the files that weren't entirely corrupted, you unintentionally corrupted them when you interrupted your memory storage protocols and, he's only guessing, tore yourself out of your recharging station."
"I did what?" Clank asked in bewilderment. "I do not even recall us returning home, let alone recharging myself."
"Twice," Ratchet muttered, his eyes flicking away.
Clank went quiet as he scoured his memory banks, but there were no files on the two of them returning home. The last memory he could recall was getting into the ship with Ratchet. He could not even recall the Lombax taking off. Everything cut off abruptly after Ratchet glanced at him with a tinge of bitterness in his eyes and congratulated him on his successful movie. That, at least, he understood now.
"I have no memory of anything after your congratulations," Clank said. "Everything goes blank after that, except for a scramble of files. There also appears to be the same scramble of files in place of whatever Nefarious did to cause such extensive damage."
Ratchet gazed at Clank. "But those files were fine."
"No, they weren't," Al said as he came in. "How's my favorite patient?"
Clank shrugged and looked away. "I am not sure. But what do you mean, Ratchet?"
Ratchet glanced between Clank and Al, his ears flattening. "Did I ruin them?"
"I doubt they would have been salvageable," Al said. "I'm impressed you managed to see anything, but it's not unheard of. What did you see?"
Ratchet looked at Clank, who glanced away before he gave a tiny shake of his head. He did not want to know what had happened to him. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. Ratchet spoke firmly to Al.
"We can talk about that later."
Al looked ready to argue until Ratchet narrowed his eyes and flexed his hands, his tail thrashing a little. Then Al seemed to decide against further provoking the Lombax who had saved various galaxies three times. He padded over to Clank and smiled.
"How are you?"
"I am not sure," Clank repeated.
"Understandable," Al said, and reached over to open Clank up.
Before Clank could panic, Ratchet jumped in front of him and seized Al's hand.
"You should ask first. You know, after all that's happened?" Ratchet prompted.
Al stopped and withdrew his hand. "How do you want to do this, Clank?"
Clank sat there for a moment as he considered this. "At least tell me what you are doing before you do it."
"Easy enough," Al said, and Ratchet plopped down behind Clank to keep an eye on him. Clank felt much better with his friend behind him, and it almost did not matter that Al calmly explained his usual tuneup procedure.
"Well, there's no trace of lasting damage," Al said once he had performed the last test.
Clank did not correct him as he had with Ratchet. "Thank you for saving me," he said instead. "Is there anything I can do to compensate you?"
"Ratchet more than made up for any difficulties in restoring you," Al said, waving his hand. "And I'm staying for a few days just to be sure you're okay."
"That is much appreciated," Clank said.
"It's getting pretty late, so I'll call if we need you," Ratchet said.
"Alrighty then. Have a nice evening, gentlemen."
With that, Al headed out of their apartment, leaving the two alone. Clank leaned against Ratchet, listening to the steady thump of his friend's heart. They were so different, and Clank was grateful.
"So what do you want to do?" Ratchet asked.
Clank checked his energy levels and found them to be only partially full. "Recharge for me and sleep for you. You look exhausted, Ratchet."
"I couldn't sleep when you were in danger," Ratchet said, hugging Clank to his chest.
Clank placed his small hands over Ratchet's. "I am not sure the danger is past," he replied.
Ratchet studied him for a moment then nodded and hopped off the table. He reached over to picked up Clank, then paused.
"Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Clank said. "But I appreciate you asking."
Ratchet picked up Clank and cradled him against his chest as he carried him to Ratchet's own room. Clank was surprised and touched to see the compact recharge station settled on one side of the bed.
"Ratchet, you did not have to do this," Clank said. "My own recharge station is more than adequate."
"Not anymore," Ratchet said. "The second time you ripped yourself out of the connector damaged your body and the machine. It was useless except for scrap, so I gave it to Al. He's already broken it down. Until you pick out a new model for your room, you're recharging in here."
"Oh. Then thank you very much," Clank said, his optics dimming in a way that made his expression very tender. "I shall look through the options soon."
"Yeah," Ratchet said, setting Clank down. "But Al also offered to design one with whatever features you want as long as we provide the materials and absorb the costs."
"He is a good friend, but he is also a businessman," Clank said, chuckling. "At least we know he will be friend first in emergencies."
"You're not wrong," Ratchet said. "But I wasn't going to skimp on anything he wanted if it would help you. We've got plenty of bolts rolling in from your movie, and we're pretty set after that mess with Nefarious. And if we need more? Well, my wrench is right over there and we've got a ship."
"You are most generous, Ratchet," Clank said. "And I owe you my life."
"You don't owe me anything, Clank," Ratchet said firmly. "You're my best friend, and I'd do anything for you."
"I would do anything for you as well," Clank said. "But perhaps tomorrow we can continue to do so."
Ratchet yawned. "Yeah. I'm sleeping in, so don't worry if you're up before me."
"Goodnight, Ratchet," Clank said, and he turned to peer at the machine. A scan showed him a matching model in his database, and he quickly and efficiently plugged himself in. The rush of energy was welcome, and he stayed online for a few minutes to enjoy the sleepy-adjacent feeling he experienced when his protocols were trying to drop him into stasis. Ratchet slipped into bed and turned over to smile at him.
"Night, Clank," he said. "And if you need anything? Wake me."
Clank's optics flickered as he processed this. "My greatest concern is damaging myself again. I do not even recall what I did."
"Taken care of," Ratchet said. "This one disconnects with only a little pressure, so if you freak out, you should pop free immediately. Al made sure of it. Try it and see."
So Clank did. He pulled forward until he could feel the tiny strain of the connector staying put, but with just a bit more tug, he popped free with no trouble, just as Ratchet had said. He was pleased and relieved. Though he could not remember the exact occurrence, he knew in his core that it had been terrifying and unpleasant. He did not want to repeat the experience if he could help it, and Ratchet's tender consideration of his comfort and wellbeing made Clank glad that he had denied Nefarious, even if he had been punished for it.
Clank smiled at Ratchet with his optics then settled back in to the charging port. He sighed at the wash of energy.
"Goodnight, Ratchet," Clank murmured.
"Night, Clank," Ratchet said, and turned off the lights as Clank faded into a restful stasis.
