Chapter 8 Roxi #3
“Since Quris took me apart, I have not been able to fit my pieces together right, though they may smooth on the surface for Terran battle. But my insides aren’t aligning. I am always on edge. My atomorph batch brothers, Crackler and the others, do not walk around in this prep stage.”
“Atomizer does.”
Fracture nods. “He endured a blast that should’ve decommissioned him. Ribos collected his orbs, found the nucleus generator, his version of a core aligner, and restarted him.”
The gentle ripple from my touch crawls up his neck, softening his edges back into his body.
A shiver runs through him. “Why does your touch mend me? I did not see you heal Anilius or the others, though you returned them to base husk stage, like you do with me.”
The last of his pieces falls into place. Fracture sighs deeply and opens his eyes. They blaze with light as they slowly lift to mine. “Roxi.”
Even his voice is smoother, calmer, deeper. His words no longer rattle and rasp as though he speaks through broken glass.
“I understand from my Brothers that the resonance between us means we are compatible, much like a scent-bond that the Relics detect. But why do you fix me with a simple touch?”
“I was made to work on Titans.”
Fracture stares, and I can see the programs running in his eyes.
“It’s why the bounty hunters sold me to Sevrin’s sister. Everyone just called her Sinister or Sin for short. She tried to access my connection and manipulate Titans. But she can’t. It isn’t in my tracework or even the nanos in my blood. Because it’s not in me, it’s in you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I do not heal Titans. You heal yourselves. You detect my body, my flesh, my energy, my DNA. Your programming senses that if I am close, you are safe. So your defense systems can shut down. Your energy can be redirected to repair you.”
Fracture looks down at himself, turning over a gray hand to admire his unified husk. “Why can I not just do it on my own?”
“We call it hypervigilance. You endured significant damage that put you in a perpetual defensive state to protect you. You have to believe you are safe for that to shut down. But it was never programmed into Titans to feel safe. That would be problematic, making Titans misjudge their situations and not prioritize creating safety.”
“So you can do this for other Titans?”
“Sort of. It is why I took Anilius’ hand and touched every other unconscious Titan. I avoid working ones because they need to be defensive of this vessel and this fleet. I think that is why Savage didn’t want you to go with me.”
“Then why pick me?”
I don’t want to tell him it’s because I can see that he’s struggling. That isn’t the only reason. “You saved my life. Twice. I don’t like to see good people in pain.”
“Roxi, I am not a person.”
“You are to me.”
He nods to himself. His thumb sweeps over my wrist.
“I did not expect you to stay after your Bond program was switched off,” I admit. “No one has ever…stayed when obligations were removed.”
Fracture, now a metal Rogue, takes my hand in his and studies my fingers.
“The way your touch makes me feel runs far deeper than any program. It is like an ultromotor restart shock with every pulse. I forget the war and the universe and the pain of this existence all with a simple brush of your skin against mine. Maybe that is just this DNA recognition, but I don’t think so. ”
He studies me for a moment. “Is it?”
“Even Kraken, my personal guard, did not feel as you do. He never looked at me the way you do or thought I was…beautiful in this patchwork body.”
“You are.” Fracture squints as he scans me. “You don’t want to go back there. I can see it in your eyes.”
I hang my head back and stare up at the ceiling, wondering how I’m going to face the base, sort through the bodies, and salvage the place without breaking down or giving away my deepest secrets. “No one wants to relive pain.”
“I would.” Fracture nods to himself. “If it meant someone else didn’t have to die. If I could do it again and save just one more life or Spark than my own, I would do it all over. But this…”
He lifts the hand I’ve captured with my own. “You are the only person who has dared to touch me for so long, or with such…kindness. Most shy away from me.”
Fracture wants an explanation.
“Is it simply because you know I won’t hurt you?” he asks, resting our hands on his thigh. “Or do you care because this is your job?”
His hand is warm, his synthskin unusually smooth for a man made of metal parts. Rogues were built with higher-precision joints and seams.
Fracture holds my hand, my fingers laced with tracework burned into my flesh, my bone made of hydramidium, and my muscles laced with nanotechnologies of Titans. I am an Augment, not quite human or Titan. My entire body is the same: parts, scars, and pain.
Fracture doesn’t hurt me out of disgust or prank me or taunt me for being pieces of everything. I am usually an outcast wherever I am. But he is gentle, protective, and curious.
“You are wrong,” I tell him. “You think I make you whole, but you are the one holding me together.”