Shipwatch Week - Day 5 - Lucio/Bastion
 All the pillows in the base were missing.
 Well, not the pillows located on people’s beds. But the communal pillows? All gone. Every couch, chair, and secret nap spot was bare. The blankets were gone too. Even Genji Jr, the large pachimari that lived in the main break room was missing. But the weirdest thing of all was the fact that no one seemed to care. No one, cept Lúcio Correia dos Santos. He was a man on a mission. A mission to find missing pillows. Mostly because he had been looking forward to a nice afternoon couch-nap.
 “Right. Gotta think this out,” Lúcio muttered as he paced around the barren couch. “Who on base would need almost two dozen pillows, a bunch of blankets, and Genji’s octopus-onion son? Reinhardt’s big enough to use that many pillows, but he doesn’t use blankets. Mako just sorta sleeps on the ground, same with Jamie. Zarya’s on a mission with Mei, Efi’s helping Torbjorn in the lab, maybe they’re working on a pillow experiment?”
 An imagine of a turret that shot pillows fluttered into Lúcio’s mind only to be brushed away. “No no, that’d be terrible in battle. Oh! Jesse could be washing them all at once down in the laundry room! But if he’s in the laundry room then there’s a pretty good chance he and Hanzo are-”
“Agent Correia dos Santos? Do you wish to know the location of the pillows?” Â
 Lúcio looked up at the vague direction of Athena’s omnipresent voice. “You know where they are?”
“Of course, Agent Correia dos Santos. I know where everything and everyone is. And I am sure Agent McCree and Agent Hanzo Shimada do not wish to be interrupted.” Â
 “You’re an angel, Athena!” Lúcio grinned. “Hit me!”
 Lúcio’s grin vanished. “What?”
 “You are currently cold.” Â
 A bolt of inspiration struck Lúcio and he took a single step forward.
“You are less cold than you were before but still relatively cold.” Â
 Following Athena’s commands Lúcio ran out of the room and down the hall. Then past the kitchen, across the gym, back down another hallway, dangerously close to the laundry room but not too close to hear anything, a quick stop to fist-bump Efi and then finally to the doors leading out to Bastion’s gardens.
 What had once been a barren piece of dirt between buildings had been transformed by Bastion into a small slice of paradise. Part farm, part garden, it was Lúcio’s favorite place to hang out between missions. There was such poetry to the place, to Bastion, to a machine that had gone through so much only to come out the other end with peace in its heart. At that moment all of the flowers were in bloom and the air was filled with their sweet perfume. Also all of the pillows were in a pile next to Bastion’s charging station.
 No, not just the pillows. The blankets were there too. And Genji Jr. All of it was surrounded by some glittery rocks, shined scrap metal, and the occasional piece of silverware. Between all of the shiny objects ran a string of green yarn that had indubitably been pilfered from Reinhardt’s knitting basket. Why, it almost looked as if Bastion had built-
 “A nest,” Lúcio said. “It’s a nest.”
 A chorus of panicked beeps got Lúcio to turn around. Bastion was running his way, waving their gun arm and making every sound and whistle they could muster. The noises were almost too much for Lúcio to follow. Worry? Scared? Sad? Lúcio held up his hands as Bastion got near.
 “Whoa, slow down buddy! It’s okay! I just wanted to see where all the pillows ran off to!”
 Bastion came to a complete stop in front of Lúcio and beeped louder. Understanding Bastion was tricky, but not impossible. Lúcio learned what certain beeps meant, how Bastion expressed themselves in whistles and clicks, all of that. For example that high beep meant bird. A beep whistle was singing bird, which was what Bastion called Lúcio. A beep click was Torbjorn, a beep beep was Lena, and so on and so on.
 Singing bird, beeped Bastion. Singing bird no look singing bird stop!
 “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Lúcio reached up and rubbed Bastion’s arm. “I won’t tell anyone about your nest. I promise. But I gotta say, I didn’t know you were into pillows and shiny objects that much! Or the color green.”
 Bastion nervously twiddled their fingers around the edge of their gun barrel. Ganymede (two quick whistles) said make nest for mate. Best nest for best mate.
 “Oh hoho?” Lúcio nudged Bastion, not caring about hitting his elbow against the hard metal. “Lookin’ to impress a bird, huh? I know how that whole nature thing goes. So who is the lucky bird?”
 Bastion hesitated for only a second before placing its hand on top of Lúcio’s. They didn’t beep. They didn’t need to. Lúcio looked up at Bastion’s faceplate. A machine drenched in blood, made of deadly weapons, made a nest in hopes of winning Lúcio over. As if he wasn’t impressed by the omnic already.
 “Bastion…” Lúcio twisted his hand around so he could entwine their fingers together. His small hand was engulfed by Bastions’, but he didn’t mind. “I’d be honored to be your songbird. But uh, don’t think any eggs are in our future.”
 From the way Bastion picked Lúcio up and hugged him the omnic didn’t seem to mind at all.
