It was happening again. Oh, God, it was happening again.
Yet again had Blackjack stumbled upon the body of a lover.
Memories of the first time had rained upon his mind as soon as he realised Devo wasn’t responding to his calling or his shaking; memories of the time a family of potential victims had been approached by the potential murderer with the armband, of the tall brown-haired soldier who had loved him and how he had run out to stop the oncoming massacre. Of the scream to stop, of the gunshot, of the thump of a body as it had hit the ground. Of kneeling beside the corpse, observing it in the innocent way of someone seeing a human’s dead body for the first time, then screaming out in emotional agony until malfunctioning and shutting down beside his dead love.
Just thinking back to that malfunction had begun to bring on another, head twitching this way and that as eyes flickered blue and core hummed loudly, glowing through his shirt as it threatened to overload. Synthetic teeth clenched together as he struggled to control himself - there was no time for a malfunction now.
Devo hadn’t responded to him. He usually sat up, all excited, when he heard Blackjack’s spurs jingling, but there had been none of that. No excitement; he’d been slumped against the wall when Blackjack had arrived. Blackjack had assumed he was sleeping, recharging, and had been content to sit beside him and wait. Be the first thing Devo saw when he woke up.
Then he’d noticed the car battery was nowhere near the punk automaton.
Panic had overtaken him, yelling and shaking Devo wildly, but nothing had helped, so the small part of his mind that could still think straight had gotten him off of his arse and out of that subway, stumbling and almost falling in his oncoming malfunction, all the way back to the manor. Had to get help, had to save Devo!
There was only one choice for a Walter Worker. The Engineer was off-limits and he couldn’t tell Chelsea or Camille and he wasn’t familiar with any other Workers to request such important help. Only one.
Blackjack had stumbled into Oscar’s workshop, where he now stood, twitching and shaking, and he shook his head at Oscar’s question, sending droplets of oil plummeting to the floor, “D-D-D-Doesn’t mat-mat-matter what’s happened to me!! P-P-P-Please, Oscar!!” He stumbled like a rag doll over to Oscar’s desk, falling and catching himself by grabbing Oscar’s lab coat suddenly. He didn’t mean to alarm or offend him, but he wasn’t quite himself right now.
Oil dripped from his lips and travelled down his cheeks as he raised his head and pleaded, “P-Please!! Oscar!! Y-Y-Y-Yoooou n-n-n-nee-nee-nee-need to he-he-he-help D-Devo!!! P-Please, I-I-I’m beg-beg-begging you!!”
What in the world had happened to the golden bot before him? What could have possibly brought him into such a state? He certainly looked like hell. Oscar had nearly been asleep when Blackjack had come rushing in, the sudden activity and noise in the otherwise quiet lab snapping the male away from his fatigue.
He’d stood, raising both arms to calm him before the automaton stumbled and fumbled around, catching his uniform and using it as leverage while Oscar braced himself at the sudden weight. He’d never..never seen any of the robots like this. Eyes widened and he tried to help support Blackjack as the other spoke.
“Devo? Who’s--Shit. A-Alright just. Just calm down Blackjack alright? Yer gonna malfunction if ya don’t.” Devo? Devo...He didn’t know a Devo anywhere around the Manor and if he did, there were a million other people to ask for help rather than himself. Another Walter Worker. Hell..could have alerted Beebop or something. But Blackjack had come to him for whatever reason. So. So he needed to help however he could. Because this automaton was putting his panicked trust in Oscar and if he didn’t act he’d have blood on his hands. Or oil. Whatever. Basically the same thing.
Oscar needed to keep a level head here. Especially with the other currently..trying his very best not to fall apart it seemed.
“Talk to me. What’s wrong with him? What do I need?” As he spoke, he redirected Blackjack’s grip to his desk, swiftly moving around to collect his tools and his toolbox. Wrenches and screwdrivers were shoved inside the case alongside what was already in there. Most of it was already packed; always ready in case he needed to rush off and help one of the Walter bots. Never..never really had a chance to use it.
Would he need water? Blackjack would probably need some with the rate he was currently going at. With that in mind, he quickly tucked an unopened water bottle in as well. “I’ll help as much as I can but ya gotta explain what’s goin’ on.” He murmured quickly, his accent muddling the words together as he moved about the lab. “Do I need ta drive? Is he far away?” Hadn’t Blackjack been caught sneaking out lately..? He vaguely remembered his friend complaining about it, wanting to know just who the bot was visiting while he was out.
Shit. What if this guy wasn’t even a robot? What if he was a human--some dude bleeding out on the side of the road or something. Oscar knew basic first aid yeah, but nothing too advanced.
Gloved fingers quickly snapped shut the locks on his toolbox before he shouldered it. Free hand shot out to collect his keys and his cellphone, pocketing the latter whilst his keys remained hooked on a finger.
“Can ya walk? I. Are ya sure I shouldn’t call someone down ta come with us? The Engineer or someone?”
