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I should have been, too, but I hurt like hell. Not that I would admit that out loud. Cyborgs were made to take a lot of pain but the damage to my hand was hard to ignore. The receptors in my fingers were sending wave after wave of pain signals to my processors, and I had to bite back a groan.
I was also terrified that my hand was too badly damaged to be fixed. A Tank Class with one hand wouldn’t be useful in a fight. I hoped that Dax and Dr. Shaw could fix it, but all their instruments were back at the rebellion’s lab, most likely buried under tons of rock.
I would mourn the loss of my hand if I had to. But I would adapt. I had no other choice if worse came to worse, and it wasn’t able to be salvaged.
My shoulders slumped. The adrenaline from battle had worn off. And Nara wasn’t here so I couldn’t worry about her as a distraction from the hurt I was feeling. So I focused my attention on her cyborg instead. Core had walked silently next to me, glancing behind him every few seconds, a look of worry and longing on his face.
He must really hate being separated from Chaos and Caliber. In fact, I don’t think I had ever seen them apart since they had arrived at the rebellion. Nara might wander away for a few minutes, but the three of them always traveled in a trio. They even kept their frames touching when they walked.
It was odd. I had never seen three cyborgs so attached to each other. If we hadn’t rescued them, the Global Allegiance selling them off to separate buyers would have destroyed them.
Their touches were simply platonic, reassuring signs of affection I wasn’t used to seeing in cyborgs. We clasped arms in a show of respect, and since the arrival of the human females, had occasionally hugged, but that was as far as it went.
You never revealed your affection for your fellow cyborgs in front of the Global Allegiance-if you had, they would have used it against you.
Reaper had hugged me once. It was strange and awkward, but not horrible. Theo was the only one that everyone let hug them as much as he wanted. He had a bad habit of throwing himself at cyborgs and expecting them to catch him.
Would touching Core help?I had no clue. As we stepped through the door of the Medical bay, I carefully rested my good hand on top of his shoulder. His eyes snapped to my face then to the place where my large gray hand was perched awkwardly.
What the hell am I doing?I went to pull my hand back, but he gave me a smile, the stress on his face easing a tiny bit.
“Friends?”
I gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Friends.”
He nodded then smiled. “Thank you. I don’t know…” He trailed off. “I’ve never been away from them before except for when Miss Nara did tests. Even then, she would try and bring us all as one unit. She understood that we don’t like to be away from each other.”
I gave him another squeeze then dropped my hand, but not quick enough for Fuse not to notice.
The surly Military Model frowned. Even injured, he remained a grumpy asshole. “Coddling the big gold one now, are we?”
Core’s cheeks darkened, and he lowered his eyes to stare at the floor.
“Don’t listen to him. He just has a stick up his ass.”
Core’s head shot up. Peering at Fuse, he scanned his frame, crouching down a bit to try and look between Fuse’s legs. “I see nothing protruding from his rear orifice. Is it embedded up too far for me to see it?”
Fuse lunged, his hands reaching for Core’s throat, and I threw myself between them, shoving Fuse backwards so hard he stumbled.
That was the difference between the two of us. My size and strength could knock a regular Military Model on his ass if I wanted to. It was why Reaper had been leery of fighting with me that day in the hallway after knocking into Aria. He would have. I was threatening his female.
But he hadn’t wanted to. He knew I could have hurt him badly if we had fought.
Fuse snarled as he bumped his chest with mine. I kept pushing him even further until I had backed his frame up against the wall.
I returned his snarl with one of my own. “You will not touch him. Got it, Fuse?” The sound of Core’s increased breathing behind me informed my frazzled processors that he was experiencing a system malfunction.
Cyborgs regulated their breathing. The only reason his had rapidly increased in this short of a time span was because he could no longer regulate it.
“Breathe,” a calm and somewhat vaguely familiar voice said, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Fuse to discover who the voice belonged to.
I listened carefully for any change in Core’s breathing and relief swept through me as he regained control.
“Now, you boys care to explain why you are fighting in my Medical bay? From the looks of the damage the two of you have sustained, I would kindly advise that you don’t battle each other.”
Fuse’s eyes moved away from me to look at someone else, his mouth sliding open, shock dousing his features. His frame went slack, any trace of the fight that had been on the horizon fleeing.
I let go and swung my head around, my jaw joining his on the floor. Standing off to the side behind Core was a Science Model green cyborg.
