Malfunctions

A 2-post collection

Challenge #01204-C109: Family Comfort

Pick a squad pose

http://croxovergoddess.tumblr.com/post/141221250180/croxovergoddess-my-draw-the-squad-memes-so -- Anon Guest

[AN: This is very much not my strong area. And I'm not drawing anything, I'm writing it. I chose pose #9]

The Spine preferred to malfunction in private. He didn't like his robotic siblings see him fail. He was the sensible one. Their guardian, when things got strange. He kept Rabbit from flying off into her fantasies... mostly... and introduced Hatchy to the world that had changed around him while he was in the vault.

So he kept everything under control. Except...

When his own systems...

Went bad.

He could sense them coming, which usually gave him enough time to find an empty room in the Manor and -as quietly as he could- fail and reboot. And then clean up the mess and resume business as normal.

That was the way it had gone since 1973, after they were recovered from Vietnam.

But now... something had changed.

He woke muzzily from his systems check. Systems green. Until the next time. He felt too wan to try moving just yet. It was always tough to pick himself up and begin cleaning up after an episode.

Except... somehow his torso was already upright. He opened his eyes and found himself identifying wall rather than ceiling. There was something wrapped around his torso.

Someone.

Rabbit.

"...wh't?" he managed.

"It's okay. W-w-we g-got'cha, dummins."

"...we?" Something heavy on his head. A glimpse of bronze and red to his left.

"I am watch-ing the door-way," said Hatchy, somewhere above him. "If some-one comes, we will pre-tend we were fight-ing."

He could not process this information with circuits that were still figuring out how to blink. "...wh't?"

"Y-y-you think we w-wouldn't find out-t-t-t?" Rabbit's inescapable grip tightened, briefly. "D-don't scare us li-like that again. G-g-got it?"

Somehow... this didn't feel as bad as recovery when he was alone. Forty-three years, and he'd been doing this all wrong. "...s're th'ng, r'bb't."

(Muse food remaining: 47. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)

OK about those last two diary entries...

I swear I previously published them. And yet, somehow, they turned up as drafts on my editor. I make sure each diary blog is posted before I trundle on with the story.

I'm sure.

I'm mostly sure.

OK, it's what I usually do and I don't always check and I should. Darn it.

Meanwhile, it's promising to be a very quiet weekend without my little darlings filling everything with noise. Beloved and I spent most of yesterday just slobbing around. It was

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