It had been a while since Fletch had seen Zee since their meeting. They hadn’t been able to meet up at the right time with each other, but he had kept his promise and made many more trips to the building they previously met at. Each time he went he would bring along a note and a can of cat food, most likely with a photograph of cats he had seen while on his deliveries.
He had gotten much more accustomed to this district of the city, and he felt less concern with getting to the building. Occasionally he would actually encounter a person or two on his trip. He found they often gave him strange glares as he greeted them or walked by, but to say he was unused to such would be a lie. He’s been in the city long enough to know that robots were still uncommon, and sentient robots were practically unheard. Be it due to sentience being hard to gain or make, or be it because sentient bots were kept off the streets.
He was gripping tight to his small bag with such thoughts shooting about in his circuits. He was out of uniform today, not making any specific deliveries and just taking another chance to meet another friend. His pappy would be happy to know he could make another friend in the city!
His thoughts were interrupted. Fletch walked by an alleyway, slowing as he heard a hoarse groan of pain from a person within. He leaned around the corner, curious. He was always willing to put aside his own safety for his curiosity.
“Hello? Is anyone there? I’m Fletch, a postal service robot. I’m licensed and I won’t hurt you,” He took slow steps into the alleyway, reciting what he was told to do upon walking up to strangers.
It took him some brief time before he registered a barely moving lump on the floor of the alleyway. Small and curled up, making deep struggling breaths for air. He ran up and kneeled down to them, seeing that it was Zee with blood over their face and shirt, as well as arm which they were gripping.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Fletch repeatedly mumbled. He kept looking them over, a hand gently on their shoulder as he tried to wiggle them to notice he was there. “Zee? Zee, hey, it’s Fletch. That robot you whacked your guitar into? Hopefully you don’t do that to a lot of robots,” Fletch began to mutter trying to make a smile out of a nervous situation. He frowned, displaying obvious panic in his screen when he looked them over again truly seeing the blood. “Zee, are you awake? You’re hurt. Are you okay? What can I do?” His nervous lightheartedness turned into far more nervousness.