Chapter Text
The Slums
Part 1/3
Doc turned the door handle, thrusting it open and stumbling into The Slums; you followed, tail swishing behind you as the scientist shared a heartwarming reunion with his son.
Get this. Go do that. Run through several fields of Zurks, so we can talk to each other. Man, these AI's were bossy. You're burning through immeasurable calories hopping from rooftop to rooftop, playing errand boy to these timid robots. You didnt even want to be stuck here; you'd rather be with your clan, spending a day in the sun bating with your leader, or practicing your fighting skills, not trudging through filth and grime, dodging blood-sucking... parasitic ticks!
You missed them. Your family. You missed them terribly.
But it was wrong to say these robots weren't wearing on you. Being spoken to was pleasant, something you had never experienced before; they treated you as if you were more than just a cat... and the longer you stayed, the more you began to feel like... more than just a feral cat.
You felt different. In such a short amount of time, things you used to do daily now appeared... useless or plain. Why sleep on a wet cardboard box when there were soft, scratchable mattresses? This place was alive, more alive than anything you'd ever seen. It was... eye-opening. Many buildings and homes to explore, proving there was more to this life than your small clan of four.
You'd just finished bringing Doc back to The Slums, padding your way up the steps where Guardian awaited you. It dawned on you then, as you tripped up the first steps, and an uncomfortably feeble feeling overtook you- what you'd been ignoring since you got here. What you'd been too busy to address.
You were starving.
And there was nothing down here to eat.
Guardian made a whirling, curious sound as your walking took a crooked turn. Your vision clouded, and all of a sudden, your limbs felt terribly, terribly weak.
You took on a wide-legged stance, pausing and breathing. You were dizzy, and taking another step would no doubt send you to the ground. B-12 launched from your backpack, circling you with worried beeps and clicks, the motion of it further unbalancing you.
"Are you alright?" He asked, but his voice only sickened you further; you were okay, a clan cat- You'd been hungrier than this before. You straightened, unclipped nails scratching the pavement at the movement, and lifted your head proudly. You could get yourself a lovely crow once you got back to the surface; you could handle a little longer, right?
Wrong.
You lifted one paw off the ground, and the void swallowed you whole.
Seamus, Doc, and a few others gathered just before the steps, chattering cheerfully. It was incredible to see that old face again; the red shalled companion had written him dead. Guardian waited for the orange cat, pride and trust radiating from his frame. Who knew such a tiny creature could bring about such significant changes? If anyone was going to open the city, it was them. He believed they could.
Small organic ears poked from beyond the steps. Curious. The little outsider was... walking strangely, taking each action like a thousand. Had they been injured during their adventure? He gave them a worrying sound, using his staff to push him towards them. Ready to provide them with several words of encouragement and thank them for returning a lost friend. But when that fancy drone... B-12? Appeared from the animal's backpack and anxiously circled the feline, he stopped.
"Are you alright?" The drone asked, and it was abundantly clear then that the little outsider was, in fact, not alright.
Something was wrong.
"Little Outsider?" Guardian questioned.
Doc glanced at the cat, the others followed his line of sight, and the quadruped appeared to take a prideful stance at the attention. A stance that lasted all of two seconds before the feline collapsed onto its side with a pitiful thump.
The others exclaimed, but Guardian was the first to rush over; abandoning his staff, he was quick to drop to the creature's level; but his hands stopped at a hover over the slowly-breathing body. Organics were... he... didnt know a thing about them! Would picking Orange up cause more harm than good?
"Furrball?" Doc joined his side, computerized dashes for eyes narrowing with worry.
"What did you do to them?!" The scientist exclaimed. Guardian made an indignant noise at the implications. "...What? Nothing! They just... fell over!"
"Maybe their battery is low?" Seamus muttered, joining the two, currently squatted at the poor animal's side.
"They're an organic, son." Doc sighed. "They have no batteries. They could be sick~."
"Sick? How!" Guardian found himself speaking before he could stop it.
"We did fight quite a few Zurks in the sewers. He could have contracted something... the old books suggested organics could easily get sick."
Silence followed Doc's statement, Guardian couldn't speak for the others, but this amount of worry shouldn't be possible for a robot. He needed to do something; The quadruped had followed every task given to them and had gone out of their way to save Doc from the sewers. He wasn't about to let this creature get sick and shrivel away like their ancestors had.
"B-12?" He spoke up. The tiny drone had been cautiously nudging his companion fur, paying the robots no mind, but to Guardians' call, B-12 zipped over, at total attention.
"Do you know what happened?"
"There are no external injuries." B-12 supplied. "Their vitals dropped; I dont know why. They may need rest."
"The trip to the sewers will have to wait." Guardian decided, then delicately, oh so slowly, the companion scooped Orange up in his arms. The feline didnt respond and sagged alarmingly in his grip. "Seamus, can you go retrieve Momo?"
At the mention of his name, Seamus scrambled to his feet with a mumbled 'got it.' before sprinting down the alley for the exit. Guardian turned for the neon sign, gently bundling the cat up in his shall.
"Doc, I need you to come with me to Momo's flat. We must figure out what's wrong. Have you worked on organics?"
Doc snagged Guardian's abandoned staff and shuffled after the already moving companion; he seemed flustered but had no complaints.
"I've worked on Zurks, a few worms once... Oh, and a frog."
Guardian cringed, the shapes making up his face flicking off to display a blank screen. "That... That'll have to do."
So... hungry...
You felt awful. It felt like the time Leader had rolled over onto you during a nap. Like you were being held down, your limbs wouldn't move when you commanded them, your head spun, and there was this... ringing in your ears.
Beep beep beep.
Wait, no, that wasn't you. What... is that?
Beep beep beep.
It's annoying.
Beep beep beep.
It's annoying, and it has to stop.
You mewled, the sound coming out pathetic and frail. The sound of... scrambling? You were finally able to crack open your eyes and were surprised by the sight that met you. Three multicolored faces staring directly down at you- You would've yowled if you had the energy, but all you could muster was a taught flick of the tail.
"Little outsider, You're awake!"
"Thank the ancestors, How do you feel?"
"Please try not to jostle the wires..."
With a mechanical purr, b-12 nuzzled himself under your chin in what would've usually been a comforting gesture had you not been agitated by that damn sound. "Im sorry, I didnt realize you were sick. My database does not have detailed access!" He exclaimed.
You weren't sick... Wait, wires?
You could feel everything now, what had before been muddled by unconsciousness and fatigue. There were... things... sticking to you, why were there things... sticking to you? Your eyes snapped down to your body, and there were the wires... several of them taped to your fur and sticking to you.
Any consciousness you had quickly fled as panic took over, and adrenaline hit.
You let out a shrill yowl, scratching and clawing at the instructions with little grace and all fury. It was a blur of movements and shouting, shouting you couldn't comprehend because~
THINGS WERE STICKING TO YOU
GET IT OFF!
GET IT OFF!
GET IT OFF!
You peeled off the carpet and vaulted over the couch, ripping the machine holding you hostage from its spot and snapping your connection to it. Doc shot foreword to steady the device, staring after you wildly as you expelled every last drop of energy by full-on sprinting around Momo's apartment and crashing yourself into every possible object.
GET IT OFF!
"...What's happening?" Guardian asked.
GET IT OFF!
A potted plant was shown no mercy when you leaped onto a shelf and practically flew across it, dragging the now snapped wires with you.
"Such... chaos. Look at them go." Momo mused.
"Dont just stand there." Doc barked. "Grab them before they hurt themselves!"
You were three seconds from launching yourself out the window when metallic hands snagged you mid-air and pressed you into a very, very hard chest.
"Okay, little furball. Dont worry, they're coming off." You made unmistakable sounds of discomfort and irritation, but as promised, the things stuck to your body were worked from your fur. You began to relax as Momo carried you over to the couch. The adrenaline ebbed away, and that sense started to return; your little sounds dulled into soft huffs of noise. By the stars, you felt awful. You fought now with consciousness as your stomach growled angrily at you; you were so hungry that anything at this point would do.
"They really didnt like that." Momo clarified. You closed your eyes, hoping to ward off the dizziness, but your ears remained perked. Their voices, albeit translated, giving you a sort of comfort you weren't used to. They were trying to help, but there was no way to tell them that you weren't sick. You were hungry. You hadn't eaten in days... and it was only now hitting you.
"I need to be able to see what's wrong. I can't do that without the wires." Doc insisted.
"They were terrified. We're not putting it back on." Momo argued back. "It has to be something else. They could be low on fuel, Guardian. Could you grab me the bottle in the fridge?"
"Theres a lot of bottles in the fridge," Guardian replied. "Which one?"
"The square one."
Plopped onto a hard lap, Fingers massaged your back while the remainder of the tape was tugged from your fur. A purr lit up in your throat at the contact, and had you been feeling better, you would've affectionately head-butted Momo for the treatment.
What is this?
Don't stop.
Why do you love it so much?
Dont. Ever. Stop.
Alas, the beautiful motions to your back did stop, and something cold was tapped against your nose. You gave a cautious sniff, and the fluff on your spine rose. You gagged. Outright gagged at the smell.
What is that?
"C'mon, little outsider, it's not that bad." Momo coaxed, that once so gentle hand came to steady at your flank, keeping you in place. Your eyes snapped open when the Guardian began pouring a bottle of something black and... slimy onto a plate.
Oh no.
On no, no no no. You were not consuming that. You would rather eat your own tail.
Guardian looked at you pleadingly, holding the plate out to you. "It's true; you need your fuel. Please try it."
Absolutely not.
Their mechanical hearts were in the right place, but that... poison did not smell edible for a cat, and your nose had kept you alive this long- you trusted it. You pushed against Momo's weak grip and hissed, trying to convey that no: you were not going to eat that.
A frowny face took over Guardians screen, and he sagged, but you refused to feel bad. "I dont think organics can consume that; it may be too volatile for their systems." Doc supplied as he wandered over, leering over the couch to look down at you.
"Now you tell me? after I tried to feed it to them?" Guardian whirled, facepalming and shaking his head. "What do organics eat, then?"
"Other organics." It was B-12 who answered; he'd been hovering nearby, and you lifted your head to watch him at the sound of his unique voice. His mechanical, cybernetic eyes watched you, and you felt he understood you just like many times before.
"The scientist that I worked with, he was human. I remember him eating plants, meat from other organics, and bags from those machines outside."
"You worked with an ancestor?" Guardian asked, dumbfounded. Silence followed, heavy and inspiring, and it seemed B-12 basked in the awe for a moment while the other companions stared at him. "I think... But anyway, we need to find another organic. Or plants?"
"Maybe Roshee can help us." The guard rose, flicking his staff and standing upright. "I'll go ask them for the little one."
You weren't fond of plants but had eaten some on the surface. You supposed it was better than nothing. Momo's hand returning to your spine stopped any protest, and before you knew it, Guardian was already out the door. Touch, a feeling so new to you. Never before had something touched you like this. It always felt good when your clan rubbed against your pelt, but this. This was... Different.
It felt almost like... It was meant to be. This is where you belonged, curled up on a lap, pampered. Long dormant desires and needs slowly came to the surface, and you imagined a life where silly robots catered to your every want, feeding you when you were hungry, petting you when you were sad. You even liked being spoken to; there was something about those awkward, digital voices that soothed you.
That purr returned, and Momos' screen flickered into a rainbow heart. "Oh, they like that." He chuckled, and those fingers moved from your spine to the base of your ears. "I wish I could feel your pelt; I bet it's soft." He added He was right; you were soft, soft for whatever this was. It made up for the grogginess, the weakness in your limbs, and the tight, starved knot in your stomach.
This was heaven.
Dont stop.
Dont. Ever. Stop.