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“Uzi, listen to me-”
“I'm f-fine..!” the purple thing insisted, rolling from her back onto her front, face down on the ground—as one surely does when they are “fine.” She groaned into the snow, doing something with her wings that was perhaps an attempt to lift herself, but appeared more like a dying insect twitching its limbs.
V watched the pathetic display below her, arms crossed impatiently. “Enough, Uzi. Get up.”
A shorter muffled groan—“bite me” if V had to guess—and the big, spindly wings fell limp on each side.
V shook her head and sighed. “You'd seriously rather die than admit you need my help?” She huffed, waiting for Uzi to writhe on the ground and humiliate herself more, maybe spit another retort into the snow.
Silence.
A (misplaced?) pang of panic ran through V, causing her arms to unfold and her optics widen. “Uzi..?” The edge she tried to keep to her tone faltered. After too many additional seconds of silence, she closed the distance and knelt down.
Shit, no, I didn't actually mean- V braced herself as she lifted the little menace off the ground and sat her up. She coughed repeatedly, and V let go of the breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Uzi breathed raggedly, the melted snow on her face quickly turning to vapor. The “Hi Temp” warning on her visor flashed more aggressively than before her brief blackout. V frowned, a growing sense of urgency stifling her compulsion to bicker. She held out her arm—the offering clear.
“Uzi, you're overheating.”
Uzi squirmed weakly, possibly unaware she was being held, palms of her wings grasping at the ground for purchase they couldn't keep.
“Noooo...” She groaned, rolling her head away from V, “I ju..just need toooo... Talk t-to N..” her words slurred as she rolled her head again in no particular direction.
Why are you bothering? Just leave her. Who cares. It's not your problem. An unwelcome knot formed in V's stomach, making her wince at her own usual bitter monologue. Up close—closer than she'd ever cared to get—there was a hauntingly familiar fragility to Uzi that V couldn't ignore.
The way she denied her pain.. the way she desperately tried to conceal her fear with bared teeth despite the pitiful state she was in.. the way she called out for that one person she felt safe being scared with, who she felt like could fix anything, even her...
The N that came to V's mind was not gentle—He was a shrill clash of metal and a rancorous glare she'd never seen before.
“What are you so afraid of?!”
What am I so afraid of? Why do I want to hate her so bad?
V took a sharp, grounding breath. “N's not here, and he'll kill me if you die on my watch,” she sighed softly, lifting Uzi closer to her still-extended arm, “Just... come on. It doesn't have to be weird...”
“N..No.. I can't-” Uzi lurched, another sudden spike in temperature replacing her words with quick, shallow breaths.
Panic swelled in V's chest. It's my fault. It wouldn't have happened if he were here, because it's me she doesn't trust—and that's my fault. I did that. Why did I fucking do that?
A low growl rumbled in the back of V's throat. “Tch, fine then. Hold still.” Gritting her teeth, she grasped the back of Uzi's head and, with as little roughness as she could manage, pressed Uzi's mouth against her forearm. With surprising immediacy, instinct took over as her lips parted over the white metal and her fangs pressed in. The critical temperature Uzi was in brought upon a sensation of being burned, which was alarming, but more importantly relieving V was finally able to get her to bite.
Oil welled up from the puncture faster than Uzi could drink, trickling messily down V's arm... but at least she was drinking. Temperature dropping, Uzi used her regained bit of strength to grasp V's arm with one hand and clutch the shoulder of her jacket with the other.
The sudden clinginess taking her by surprise, V blushed—a self-startling development. Her optics darted away and over her shoulder, hoping for her expression to go unseen. “I have to do everything for you...” she remarked with a scoff, attempting to put a brick or two back into her emotional wall.
V expected some retort now that Uzi was stabilizing; perhaps a grunt or middle finger... but nothing came. V turned her head back around, blinking in surprise as she looked down at the little drone attached to her arm. Uzi was trembling slightly, sniffling between quiet whimpers and still struggling to keep up with the growing mess of oil that V only now remembered the worker drone really didn't like having to drink from anyone.
She was scared. Of everything happening to her, but also scared of this. Scared of being this vulnerable, at V's mercy, without her safe person around to promise her safety.
V didn't know when her tail curved around them both, but there it was, lingering at Uzi's side like it was telling V what she should do. Slowly and hesitantly, she pulled Uzi closer, until her head was resting against V's chest.
“I.. I don't mind..” V breathed, just a little louder than a mumble.
Uzi's optics—tears in their corners—darted up, her confusion clear.
“Helping you, I mean...” V looked off to the side, scraping up the courage to put her words together, “I don't mind helping you.”
Uzi's drinking paused and she remained frozen in place. Her purple optic rings, still fixed on V, began to subtly shake.
V frowned. She didn't mean to cause more fear, but she wasn't going to pretend she didn't understand why. Uzi was searching V's face for the lie, the trick; The reason not to trust her, to be added to the ever growing list.
Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. Maybe she shouldn't say anything else, so she doesn't make it worse. Maybe it would be best to just stay still and quiet until N gets back, and he'll rush over to scoop Uzi right out of V's arms, and Uzi will cling to him and feel safe again, and V will be alone again, and empty again, and...
“I...I thought you hated me...”
“Huh?” V snapped to attention.
Uzi didn't elaborate. She stared forward into the distance, hiding her mouth behind V's arm and the oozing stream of oil she was no longer drinking.
V felt a visceral twist inside her, something made of nausea and regret. She shook her head crescively, “No... No, I...”
The lump in her throat clung stubbornly, and dry. Forgoing words, V pulled the smaller drone in with startling suddenness, locking her in a tight embrace. Uzi was limp at first, optics wide, chin resting on V's shoulder as she tried to comprehend what just happened. Slowly and cautiously though, her arms came back to life, snaking around V's torso.
Lightly gripping the back of V's jacket, Uzi wordlessly settled into a comfortable position in V's lap. The fur trimmed collar brushed against Uzi's face, offering its scent of ash and gunpowder that was surprisingly more comforting than it should be. Maybe because it reminded her a little of N, his jacket carrying a similar, smoky odor, but at the same time, there was something notably unique about V's—Sharper, rugged, dirtier, even. It was inexplicably alluring, beckoning Uzi to nuzzle closer and let her teary optics close.
The sudden steadiness and balance of breath was an unexpected reaction, but V had no complaints. Whatever she did, it worked... right? With Uzi's expression hidden over her shoulder, she found herself worried what the little punk might be thinking, what hidden consequence might be lined up—
“V nearly let me die, in fact, she wanted me to! I had to beg for my life!” and a lecture from N (he'd believe Uzi over her at this point, wouldn't he?)
Or maybe something like, “Your oil tasted like shit, by the way,” and her rare moment of vulnerability would be nothing more than a punchline she'd regret fueling (maybe they'd both laugh at her.)
The fears were a heavy weight in her chest, and yet...
She squeezed the smaller body against her just a little tighter.
No... I don't want to be afraid anymore...
[End.]