Killjoy & Cypher fic anyone?
◇Killjoy has passed out at her desk again, and Cypher reminds her it's okay to rest.◇
Not sure who is interested, but this was written after a conversation I had with my brother. I hope you enjoy <3
(this is platonic, shush. Also forgive me for errors, English is my second language!)
The hum of the servers was the only sound left alive in the lab.
Monitors flickered faintly against the shadows, reflecting lines of code that had long since stopped moving. Empty coffee mugs sat like silent witnesses around the workstation, and the faint smell of solder and burnt circuits hung in the air.
Cypher stepped inside quietly, his gloved hand brushing the doorframe as it closed behind him. His boots made no sound against the tile, a habit formed from years of moving unseen. He’d meant only to check the lab, make sure the night systems were running properly before heading to his quarters.
Then he saw her.
Killjoy sat slumped over her desk, chin resting on her arm, her hat askew, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. A faint snore escaped her, soft and uneven. Bot parts scattered across the desk.
Cypher tilted his head, a quiet sigh escaping him. “Ah, little engineer,” he murmured under his breath, voice warm with amusement. “You’ve been at this for far too long.”
He moved closer, careful not to startle her. Her wrist twitched faintly, even asleep, she looked ready to reach for her tools. On the desk, a small drone blinked weakly, its battery light fading to red.
Cypher shut down her workstation with practiced precision. The room dimmed, leaving only the amber glow of one lamp and the steady hum of machinery. He hesitated for a moment, then gently rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Klara” he said softly, his tone barely above a whisper. “حبيبتي, wake up”
She stirred, mumbling incoherently. “Just… give me five minutes… almost done…”
“No, no,” Cypher chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “You said that five hours ago.”
He gave her shoulder another gentle squeeze. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused, glazed with exhaustion. And for a moment, she blinked at him, confused. “Cypher? What’re you… doing here?”
“Saving you from yourself,” he said simply. “Come now, you’ll ruin your neck sleeping like that.”
She tried to sit up, but the motion made her wobble. Cypher caught her easily, steadying her with one arm. “Careful,” he murmured. “You’ve pushed yourself too hard again.”
“I had to finish the calibration,” she protested weakly, words slurred by fatigue. “The new signal relay wasn’t syncing, and...”
He gave a soft, patient hum. “And it will still be here in the morning,” he said. “Come on, up we go.”
With surprising gentleness, he helped her to her feet. She leaned on him instinctively, too tired to argue further. Cypher guided her through the corridor with slow, steady steps, the kind of care that spoke more of experience than sympathy.
He remembered doing this once before. A long time ago, with someone smaller, someone who used to fall asleep at her homework desk with the same stubborn spark in her eyes. The memory tugged faintly at his chest.
When they reached Killjoy's quarters, Cypher pushed the door open and guided her to the bed. She sat down heavily, eyelids drooping.
He helped her out of her heavy jacket, then draped a blanket around her shoulders. She blinked up at him, still half-asleep. “You didn’t have to do all that,” she mumbled. “I could’ve… made it on my own.”
“You could have,” Cypher agreed. “But I was here. So you didn’t have to.”
That silenced her. For a moment, she only looked at him, the edge of embarrassment fading into a small, tired smile.
He adjusted the blanket one last time, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Try to rest properly,” he said quietly. “The world will not collapse if you take one night off, yeah?”
Her eyes were already closing. “Thanks, old man,” she mumbled, barely audible.
Cypher chuckled under his breath. “Old, perhaps. But not deaf,” he teased softly.
He waited until her breathing evened out before standing. On his way out, he turned off the light, leaving only the soft glow of the window.