Despair Beyond Repair
Words: 946
Warnings: None really, angsty, hints of emotional and magical manipulation.
Notes: I got the idea of Lightning Sheep and Robro interacting, and I was in the mood for a bit of angst and... this happened. I don't know why torturing the babbies is so fun. Kirindave very easily can ruin you if you give him the information to, and boy, does he.
“Ah, Bebop.” The voice was smooth and warm like honey, sticking the robot’s feet to the ground and trapping him with fear. “Bebop? Bebop, there’s still one more world anchor to get, this isn’t the time to sit down,” Ridge said with mild annoyance through Bebop’s earpiece. Bebop didn’t even move an artificial muscle to flinch as Kirindave plucked off the ear piece. Last time the sage had barely even grazed him with his hand, yet the small connection had sent him sprawling, twitching on the ground. He didn’t want to have to go through that pain again, nor feel so sickeningly weak as he had. Kirindave put the earpiece a few inches from his mouth, ignoring the static that jumped from his skin to the device. Bebop felt uneasy that the man - or whatever he was - could keep that same smile, no matter what.
“Ridgedog. I see you’ve sent your friend for a visit, again. I don’t appreciate that you hadn’t forewarned me, it’s incredibly rude to arrive without an invitation.” Silence lasted for a few seconds before Ridge spoke up again, his voice raised an octave. “We weren’t doing anything, Dave. Just getting rid of the world anchors that are causing the world to lag.” Kirindave chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down Bebop’s spine. Kirindave’s eyes flickered up immediately, the smile spreading into a grin. “I see. Then why is Bebopvox so scared?” The question was filled with triumph, enough to make Bebop slouch a bit, feigning a lack of worry. Kirindave looked up and casually put a light touch on Bebop’s shoulder. Bebop let out a shout, immediately stiffening with pain in his eyes.
“Hey, don’t touch him!” Ridgedog protested, voice angry. Bebop wanted to facepalm, but refused to move. He knew that the demi-god was trying to uncover weaknesses, a chink in the armour of his friend, and Ridge basically just lowered his sword and bared his neck.
“Why? He’s only a robot, Ridgedog, surely you don’t care about him?” Venom practically dribbled from the words like drool from a dog’s mouth, and Bebop could hear Ridge stiffen. “...O-of course I do! He’s… He’s a remarkable robot, and I don’t want your lightning frying his circuits! I don’t want to have to make another one!”
Bebop couldn’t hold back a flinch this time, but Kirin didn’t shock him again, simply glanced up with a sort of, ‘I told you so’ grin, and Bebop made himself tear away from the mocking, pitying blue eyes. “Of course, of course. He’s nothing more than a hunk of metal then, hm? Not a friend?” Bebop looked back up and at Kirin’s eyes, his breath caught as he waited for Ridge’s response. Surely he would deny the claim, why would he stay otherwise?
“...No. He’s not a friend. Just a robot.” Bebop felt his knees give out before he even stopped talking, and if Ridge had heard, he gave no clue. “That’s all I needed to hear,” Kirin assured. “Wait, are you letting him go n-” the words cut off as the device exploded into sparks, the shreds falling to the floor. Bebop had his unnatural blue eyes wide, the natural pale blue turned a dark, stormy gray. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true.
Bebop flinched away as Kirin kneeled down in front of him, his hands trembling with little earthquakes as he tried to protect his face. He couldn’t really think beyond ‘I’m just a robot to him,’ and the fact that Kirindave could kill him easily right now. But when the sage put a hand on his shoulder it didn’t short-circuit him; in fact, the energy was just a low hum that made Bebop want to hug his knees and cry. Bebop’s never been one to ignore his urges.
His sobbing was a strange sound, a mixture of crying and deep intakes of breath that made him cough. It was new and unpleasant, though the hand on his back was oddly comforting. He felt sick, and as he calmed down enough to breathe, he wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them to himself. He could breathe and his ‘heart’ was beating, but he felt empty. He felt like he did when he first landed on Minecraftia - alone, vulnerable, and terrified.
Kirin lifted his hand away, and Bebop nearly leaned back into it, eliciting a surprised and vaguely pleased sound from the sage. Bebop felt like a traitor, but then again, he was just betrayed, betrayed by the man who took him in and fixed him up and befriended him. So Bebop didn’t move when the hand returned, a slightly warmer and deeper hum that had the robot sighing, relaxing against the touch.
“Are you okay, now?” Kirindave’s words came out in a soothing murmur, his hand roaming Bebop’s back in a way that was like a massage. Bebop closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “No,” he whimpered, letting go and sitting in a more comfortable position. “Of course not. It’s okay, you can relax,” Kirin cooed, a large smile on his lips as Bebop listened and leaned against the sage’s side. Bebop felt himself become a little drowsy, and he smiled slightly. “That’s it.” An arm wrapped around the bot’s shoulder, and Bebop felt himself drifting off. Kirin leaned down and pressed his cheek reassuringly against his temple.
Bebop knew he should be worried by the devil’s grin he felt against his head, but he was having a hard time caring. Even when he heard a low, sickly-sweet chuckle, he was too tired, and feeling too appreciated, to care.
