34. Volt
Volt
Warmth.
Something warm. On his…
His cheek.
Something warm on his cheek.
Where was…?
Nothing.
Floating.
But where?
Something was wrong.
Darkness.
Angel!
He had to warn…
But who was Angel?
An angel?
Diagnostic report.
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
So many errors.
What was…?
Wallace!
He needed…
He was…
Diagnostic report.
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
Nothing.
Sounds.
Sounds with words.
… then we found out you’d crushed the creampuffs! And my breakfast. But you fed them to me. And I was…
Creampuff.
The word was important.
He tried to make the sounds. C-c-c-c-c…
Burnt rubber.
And oranges.
Oranges?
Nothing.
Warmth.
Soft fingers on his shoulder.
Where was he?
Location: Searching.
Connect to network to use location services.
Something was wrong.
Something was really wrong.
Diagnostic report.
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
Too many errors.
How long had this been happening?
01.02.0000 19:04:23
No, that couldn’t be the date.
Had his chronometer been reset?
Had he been offline for two days?
A knock.
A knock? What would be knocking?
I think that he’s waking up. He’s turning on his own systems, so I’m not going to keep him down.
Whose voice?
Was he in danger?
Close access port 3295:3B. Close access port 29A0.
Whose voice?
Where was he?
Daddy? Daddy, can you hear me? I’m here, Daddy.
Warmth and pressure on his hand.
Soft.
Wallace! Oh, let it be Wallace.
He willed his arm to move.
Was it stuck? Or was it moving and he couldn’t feel it?
He tried his mouth. His tongue. Creampuff? he thought.
No sound. Nothing that he could hear.
Auxiliary speakers. “Creampuff?”
Daddy!
And then, like the dawn of creation, Volt was back. The world crashed into focus.
Light streamed from the fixture in an unfamiliar ceiling. The hum of bots filled his ears. His body was cradled in a bed, wrapped in soft blankets. Two voices murmured in the background.
Scent. Almost like his baby boy, but maybe with… a different shampoo? Laundry soap?
And, suddenly, the perfect weight of a body on top of his, one that he would know anywhere.
“Daddy? Daddy? Volt, can you hear me?”
“I can hear you, pansy.” His tongue worked. His jaw moved. He could hear his own voice, coming in stereo from his mouth and the speakers buried in the pillow.
He turned off the auxiliary speakers, the sound disconcerting in a topsy-turvy world.
He tilted his head, and there was Wallace above him, his eyes puffy with dark bruises beneath them, but looking all the more dear because of it. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days, but his luscious pink lips were split in a wide grin.
Then Wallace was kissing him. Kissing everywhere across his face. Murmuring sweet nothings. A tear dripped onto his cheek.
Volt lifted his arms, ignoring the jerky behavior and the fact that he couldn’t feel anything from one side, to wrap his arms around his baby.
“What happened?” Volt had to ask.
Wallace sat up, his plump ass resting on Volt’s hips, exactly where it should be.
“A takeover mod. You’ve been out for two days.”
Fuck. No wonder he felt horrible and everything was giving him errors. “Who…?”
“Remember how I told you that guy, Colton Alexander, was harassing me on the street? Well, the nickel drive he gave me was a takeover mod. I didn’t even know I still had it in my apartment, though—it’s been missing for months.
You were supposed to use a different nickel, but somehow you got that one instead. ”
Volt closed his eyes, trying to put everything together. “There was a nickel,” he agreed. “A red one?” Because… “We were going to look at outfits for you.”
“That’s right, Daddy. We were. Oh, I’m so glad you remember. We were going to look at outfits because I quit my job. Only the nickel you were supposed to use was white. It rolled under the dresser, and you must have found the red one somewhere instead.”
“Shit.” The memories were starting to come back. The excitement he’d felt. And then that bitter scent of burning oranges and rubber balls. Then so much pain…
It was chilling to think of how much worse it could have been. What might have happened if Wallace hadn’t taken him to… wherever this was.
He set more diagnostics to run, and he could see the tampering. The repairs. Places tagged for him to come back and review. Warnings about overuse.
He wasn’t healed, but he was healing. What was left, he’d be able to straighten out, given enough time.
“Yeah. It scared the hell out of me,” Wallace agreed. “At first I thought it was just really shitty programming, but now we think it was on purpose. Does the name Mitchie mean anything to you?”
Volt could feel his eyes widen. “Yeah. Fuck. We gotta tell Angel.” He tried, instinctively, to call his brother, but he wasn’t connected to the internet. He was just drifting in isolation, disconnected from anything but the bot running diagnostics through his one open port.
It left a bigger void than his unresponsive arm, an emptiness that had him feeling unbalanced and discombobulated.
He’d reached out to Angel, he thought, just before he went down. Fuck, was Angel alright? Takeover mods could jump through a connection. Volt’s fans sped up, dread rushing through him. He started to sit up, but his gears locked. “Is Angel…”
“I’ve already informed him, and I’m keeping him updated on your progress.”
Volt exhaled, stale air emptying from his lungs. Angel was alright.
He turned, trying to locate the rich, velvety voice. It had come from off to his left, but it didn’t seem to match the location of the slender young man with the dark spiky hair who was gazing at his tablet screen from the chair below.
“Hello, Volt.” The voice came, confusingly, from the ceiling. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Oliver, but Wallace may have told you about me as Maxamillion.”
Memory was slow to access, but then it came together in a burst. “Max? You’re Max?”
“Yes. Though I go by Oliver now.” There was a smile in his voice, for all that he had no face to show. “And this is my sidekick, Ben.”
Ben, the one with the tablet, looked up and gave a friendly smile. “That’s me. Ben the sidekick. Do you think I’d look good in red tights and a cape?”
“I’m ordering it now,” Oliver replied.
Volt looked back at Wallace. This was the Ben Curran who’d been haunting Wallace’s conscience for most of the year. Not at all what he’d expected, and somehow what he should have. “You talked to them? You apologized?”
Wallace nodded, looking beyond happy. “I apologized about a thousand times, and for some crazy reason they accepted it. They saved your life. We’re in their house right now.”
Volt looked around the room. Despite the bed he was lying in, it looked more like an office or junk room than a bedroom, so he hoped he hadn’t put them out too much.
“Thank you.” He met Ben’s eyes while he said it, then sought out the camera over the door and repeated the words.
“Thank you both. If there’s anything we can do to repay you, let me know. ”
Ben shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable with the praise. “Just keep Wallace away from his asshole family. And, uh, get better.”
“You don’t need to do anything to repay us,” Oliver answered more smoothly. “We have the resources, and we were more than happy to help. We’re hoping to see more of you and Wallace in the future.”
Volt’s chest warmed and his fans whirred. Not so much because of a potential new friendship for himself, but because he knew what this would mean to Wallace. “You’re friends now?” he asked.
Wallace looked around the room, like he wasn’t sure.
Oh, his sweet, traumatized baby.
“We’re friends,” Oliver confirmed. “Our close friends Quincy and Evan have kind of adopted him, too. Quincy asked me three times last night when he can come over to do Wallace’s makeup.”
Volt found himself grinning. “That right, baby girl?” He figured that between Wallace’s sexy sweater-dress and the topic of conversation, the nickname wouldn’t surprise anyone.
“Yes, Daddy. They’re, uh, they’re really nice.”
Ben snorted in the corner.
“Ben’s nice, too,” Wallace reported. So, it seemed they really had made up.
Even if Ben just rolled his eyes at the compliment. There was no malice behind it, though. More the playful disagreement of a brat spoiling for a spanking.
“You could say thank you, Ben,” Oliver chided, warm affection in his voice.
“Thank you, Ben,” Ben replied with a shit-eating grin.
Yep, definitely a brat.
The difference was that Wallace seemed to get it, now. He was watching the show with amusement, not seemingly worried at all.
Volt never, ever wanted to relive the experience of that takeover mod, but if this was the result, maybe it was worth it. He knew the guilt had been eating Wallace up inside.
He lifted his good arm up to stroke Wallace’s cheek. He wiped away a tear. “They’ve been taking care of you, creampuff?”
Wallace nodded. “Yeah. So much better than what I deserved. Ben even made me summer rolls.”
This pronouncement caused Ben to glare again. Oliver clearly had his hands full with this one.
Volt loved his sweet boy just like he was, obedient and adoring, but he could see the appeal of a brat like Ben for someone else.
“I was just so scared,” Wallace finally whispered. “Why would someone do something like this?”
Volt sucked in a breath. Shit.
He’d been keeping this whole thing from Wallace for so long that it felt weird to tell him now. And he was supposed to be protecting his boy, wasn’t he?
“What is it?” Wallace prompted. “You know something.”
“It’s just something I’ve been wondering about,” Volt dodged. It wasn’t like he knew for sure, was it? “But you don’t need to worry.”
Wallace looked like he’d been struck, his whole body flinching back. Then his eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” he demanded. “I know I’m submissive in the bedroom, but I thought we were partners. Equals. You don’t get to keep things from me like this.”
“I’m not sure if it’s anything…” Volt replied weakly. Now he felt horrible. He’d never meant to make Wallace feel like he was anything less. He’d just wanted to protect him.