#cb77

He was the odd one out. There was nothing he could do to distract himself from his own thoughts. Right now, he could hear the faint tapping of a hammer in the garage below him. Good for Allen, I guess, he thought. You were still playing on Zao's farm. Revealing company secrets and probably starting a side gig. You were finally doing the world a favor, as you should.

Alfred breathed out a defeated laugh. He used to think he was the one saving the world. Doing a little bit of this, doing a little bit of that. Blowing shit up, killing some yakuza. But he was never saving anything. And now, he was having trouble saving himself.

“... Fuck this.” Alfred tossed a stray roof tile far into the distance. Not remembering half the shit that happened only made it so much harder--especially when it was the better half.

You told him to take it easy, but taking it easy didn't get his memories back. You didn't understand. His frustration was beyond your comprehension--you weren't the one who forgot the happiness he once shared with you.

He was.

“Dude. It's my turn on the roof. You were supposed to be inside ten minutes ago.” His train of thought was derailed by the voice. Turning to the source, he found himself staring at Allen's head over the edge. And he didn't look too happy. Climbing up swiftly, he took a seat next to him. “Whatever. Hope you like cigarette smoke.”

Alfred shook his head in disapproval. The lit end of the cancer stick burned a brighter neon orange at every inhale. “... If she finds out, she'll kill you faster than those things will.” Allen rolled his blood-red eyes to him and grinned. Damn right you would. But in light of recent events, he was cutting himself some slack.

“I'm just having a hard time. I won't do this forever.” He blew out a cloud of gray as he turned to the pulsing city center. “She'd be up my ass every day if I did. Not that I mind.” He rose his brows as his grin turned into a mischievous one. It was a nice thought, having you so worried about him all the time. But he couldn't be selfish.

Alfred chose to ignore what he said. That he didn't mind you being up his ass. Everyday. But the implications were too obvious--not that he would comment on it. Maybe if he didn't mention it, it would simply stop existing. “I'm jealous, though. You can get a nicotine addiction. I can't.” He murmured.

Of course, that was one of many things Allen had that he was envious of.

The said man shrugged, giving him a brief glance. “That's too bad. You gotta find another unhealthy coping mechanism, I guess.” Allen meant it with every fiber of his being. Alfred had nothing to do nowadays except be alone with his problems. He couldn't drink them away, let alone smoke them away. He even felt sorry for the poor bastard.

“Yeah.” The only outlet he had was also his only friend. You were the only one he remembered, after all. Everyone else was a stranger. So when you weren't around, he waited for you to get back. It was pathetic. He knew that much. But damn, if this wasn't the lowest point of his life. “I should stop clinging to (F/N).”

It wasn't fair for you, either. He was well aware, but he didn't think he could pull away from you. As he confronted these feelings, a pained frown contorted at his face.

Allen's expression darkened as he could practically read his mind. It was like staring into a mirror. That son of a gun was just like him, so he could say he almost knew him like the back of his hand. “You're right. After everything you put her through, you can't make her solve your problems. She's not your therapist.” Clenching his fists at that, he continued. “I didn't make her my therapist. I'm doing my own thing now. And she is too.”

Alfred's lips separated agape at how on the nose he was. His breath hitched as he looked away with a glare. “... I'm not making her my therapist. I just need some fucking help, alright?”

“You really do,” Allen sighed sharply. And you're sticking to her because you like her, not just because you're fucked in the head. That was what he wanted to say. But he saved it. “But it's not like she's the only one you can talk to. Arthur used to be your friend, you know. The grumpy British guy you nearly cut up?”

The blonde scoffed. “I didn't nearly cut him up. It was just a scalpel.”

“Yeah, the thing they use to operate on people.” The other glowered at him. “He's a friggen' marshmallow, man. You coulda' hurt him.” Shaking his head at that, he added this in sternly with his hands clasped together. “Just... Don't make this harder for her than it already is.”

Alfred's glare darkened. He absolutely despised what he was hearing. Because he was right. But fuck, did he hate being told what to do. And this time specifically. Whipping his head to him with murder on his mind, a vein would have popped around his neck if he had any. “I already fucking know that! I'm not trying to make it harder for her. I just need her.”

Something glinted in Allen's eyes. Shrewdness. But it quickly burned away into anger. “We all need shit. But we can't always get it.”

Hearing that didn't soothe Alfred's, however. “You're not the one who forgot. She's the only thing I had that wasn't completely depressing in my shitty life. But I forgot everything.” That would silence him, for sure. After all, it was Allen who first found out about his past. “All I remember are the ugly parts. But that doesn't change the way I feel about her.”

Allen pointed at him with a triumphant expression. “Aha! So you do like her. That's why you're so hellbent on sticking to her!” Before the other could object, now mortified beyond belief, he slapped him on the back a few times. “I was just trying to get you to admit it. And now that I have the verbal confirmation, I'll tell you what.”

Standing up to leave, he walked to the edge of the roof with his back turned to him. “I'm not trying to find something new to fight with you. But I'm not gonna go easy on you just cuz' we're cool now.” He looked at him over his shoulder with a toothy grin. “I was always her sidekick. If we really did end up together, it would be the perfect fuck you to her dad.”

Alfred ground his teeth together. He should have seen this coming. The jealousy he heated up with wasn't unfounded, after all--the time when it was Allen on the medical bed, and you curled up next to him wearing nothing but--“So watch yourself.” Alfred snapped out of his daze just in time to catch Allen jumping off the roof to the ground in a thud.

“But if Mizumoto ever tries something, you know I always got your back.”

“... Word.”

One for my baby (And One More For The Road)

Hidden in miles and miles of treeless hills were hundreds of Perspex canopies. Greenhouses. Hermetically sealed pods that simulated a rich environment for crops to grow. How this was never discovered was beyond you. But Allen did mention he worked for the mob. The question was, which one. In one of the tents was an orchard of palm trees.

But it wasn't the plants you were so interested in. It was what was inside them. “I'm really impressed by everything you set up, Zao. How you managed all this... It's beyond what I imagined.” Peeking into one of the tree trunks, you stuck your hand into a crack to fiddle with the weevil larvae inside. “But I have to say... These hazmat suits are over the top.” Turning to him at that, he stood with his arms on his sides awkwardly, unmoving.

He was too stiff for that, which only emphasized your point.

“I can't help it. These things are a bio-hazard.” He breathed in his suit, then trudged over to grab your wrist. He shook it so you would drop all the bugs in your hand. “Best to not play around with them.”

“And yet, you're eating them.” You would have folded your arms, but the clunky suit was severely limiting. The other stopped in his tracks for a brief silence as if to say, oh yeah. However, he was doing anything but. “You're gonna come down with something in the future. Zao, if you have a virus, I'm actually very thankful for this suit you gave me.”

He snorted and spun back to you. “Look, it's not me eating them. I'd never put one of these in my mouth.” Walking back to the exit, he held his hands out to gesture to the entire tent. “This protein farm is for new hires. The bosses feed this to them to see who falls over dead first. It's like... Natural selection. But not so natural.” He spoke of the matter so casually, you couldn't help giving your head a shake.

“Tough.” That was all you managed to say, having found the information left you unfazed. You were getting rather good at adapting, and the price was duly paid. All those months of killing, stealing and mixing in with Twilight city's craziest left you desensitized. “I guess that's why they aren't vaccinated. So they just... Deal with it. Kinda like building immunity by not taking cold meds.”

But one couldn't deny it made you more understanding of this rotting society. Maybe everything was just part of the crash course Alfred said he'd give me, you thought.

About everything wrong with this world.

“Exactly. But it's stupid, really. Though I won't complain when I'm getting paid.” Grinning at that, he stepped into a spray tunnel to get rid of the contaminants. A strong mist jetted all over him from all angles. Once he stepped out, he beckoned you over. “Get your ass into this thing already. I wanna go home and get high.”

You stretched your eyes but couldn't stifle a smile of your own. “I think I'll take my time, actually. Just in case I infect your home. Or drag in any dirt.”

“... I'll make you eat one of the protein jellies in my pantry.”

“If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me. I'm not a picky eater.”

Zao furrowed his brows for an amused expression. Not that you could see it when he had that ridiculous helmet on. “I have to say, you're a little different to what I imagined you to be.” He mused, leading you back to his house on foot--a hut that was only a couple hundred yards away. As you walked quietly by his side, he added this. “My point exactly.”

Without any elaboration on his part, you already knew what he was on his mind. You were nothing like the princess Alfred once called you. It still annoyed you to recall that time outside that oily burger shop. “... I've been spending my whole life trying to be like my dad.” You cringed at how that came out. “The work ethic, I mean. I can't be fazed by a little walking, can I?” Popping off your helmet, you flashed him a sharp smile.

He did the same but returned the gesture with a toothy grin. “My apologies, your highness. I judged too quickly.” Zao jogged a little to catch up. He never thought he could be this on a par with someone, ever, but here you came, the displaced daughter of the world's biggest tycoon.

That sounded about right.

“And your highness is about to take over your business. If you ask nicely, I could help you grow these things in a sterile environment. Then we could sell them for consumption.”

The man rose his brows as he breathed out a few chuckles. Damn, okay. “Jeez... It's only been a few days, and you're trying to take over? Can't expect anything less from a Mizumoto...”

You shot him a dark glare. “Bitch--don't mush me in with my family.”

“I kid, I kid.”

Breathing out a sigh, you followed him to a shed to take off your suits. Half an hour after, you were settled in the passenger seat of his spinner, watching the high-rise buildings pass by.

Despite being hundreds of feet in the air, the traffic was still this convoluted. But when the vehicle would whir to a stop, you could peer into the windows of apartments. Each one housed the same monotonous lifestyle in this over-populated city. No wonder it felt so lonely here. “Zao, do you have any family?”

He spared you a brief glance before fixating on what was ahead of him. While he wasn't expecting a question like that, he knew exactly how to answer. “Sure I do. I got Arthur.”

You hummed thoughtfully.

“How did you meet him? You two seem close.”

Without missing a beat, he answered. “Found him in a dumpster in Chinatown.” Your eyes went round, but you beckoned him to continue by staying quiet. “He was... Digging for scraps behind a restaurant. Stuffing his face with garbage.” He bit back a sigh as he revisited the memory. Even now, he couldn't get over it--the images left a dull aching in his chest.

“He was so skinny I thought his legs would snap every time he took a step.” Zao laughed dryly. Grimly. “And he was running. Running from me. But when I said I'd give him something to eat, he wouldn't leave me alone until I did. He was five, then. I was nine.”

You knitted your trembling brows together, tearing your gaze away to the city once more. “Shit...” Huffing that out with regret, you turned to him after a moment. “I'm sorry.”

He cracked his jaw. “Don't worry about it. It's not like he's still a little kid. But seeing him so thin sometimes fucks me up.” Pulling into a fenced-off parking lot, he opened the doors and let them rise up over the sides. Then, he reached into the backseat for a brown bag of fresh produce. “That's why I drop by sometimes. Give him some stuff to burn in the kitchen. So long as he eats it, right?”

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

“Don't tell me you've already forgotten how to remove this.” Arthur scolded, giving his companion a hard slap on the back. The force caused them to fall forward into the open hood. “Push, then lift. You have to hear the click, or you'll break something with those arms of yours.” The other glowered at him as they stood up slowly. “Don't look at me like that. You didn't always have these upgrades.”

Allen made a face. “Alright, alright, damn. I got this, okay? You didn't have to hit me.”

“Do you? You’ve been distracted ever since you came back from your break. We're not done, you know? Not until you get this right.”

“Fine!”

The Brit scoffed with a glare of his own. “I'm just trying to get you to relearn everything. If you don't feel like it, then you're welcome to stop.”

The other softened his gaze at that. The last time he stopped was when he quit car repair for his new job. Arthur had a lot to say then, but now, it seemed like he was okay with him leaving. And he wasn't about to keep this thought to himself. “Why, cuz' you don't need me anymore?” Allen grumbled dejectedly.

Arthur blinked, then hung his head to shake it. Didn't need him anymore? What was he thinking? Lifting his head with his brows furrowed, he reached out to his shoulder and sighed. “Just because I got on fine without you around doesn't mean I don't want you here.”

“So... What you're saying is that you don't need me.”

“No, you idiot. I just meant that I technically had other kinds of help without you.” Allen's frown deepened, prompting him to crack like an egg. “I had to rely on Zao, okay?” He exasperated with his hands in the air. “Even if he doesn't ask for anything, I can't keep having him help me! He'll just keep thinking I'm still the same kid as--”

A few knocks pounded on the door.

Arthur immediately shut up. Allen exchanged quiet looks with him before they both raced into the hall--and hopefully, to the door. But they didn't make it very far when they collided right into Alfred. He had been running too, and when they landed on the ground in a heap, he let out a grunt. “Gh-!”

Allen scowled. “Beat it, blondies. I'm answering the door.”

“Like hell you are!” Arthur hissed. “I have to tell Zao to fuck off before he actually fucks off.” Surprisingly, he was the one who came out on top, literally, and scurried to his feet to reach the handle.

The first person he saw outside was you, so he nodded curtly. “(F/N). Good to see you back.” With that said, he managed a brief smile before taking off. When he did, you turned to the two men wrestling on the ground. And they continued to tousle when they heard your voice.

“What was that all about?” But your attention was soon diverted to them rolling around on the floor. What the hell were they doing? “... What the hell are you guys doing?”

Allen growled. A nice fucking ass beating.

Alfred gritted his teeth. A fight to the death, of course!

“Nothing.” They chorused, standing up almost simultaneously. Them, syncing? Now that was a rare sight. Giving them weird looks as they patted their clothes, you stepped backward to turn to the hall. Whatever happened between them, you decided didn't concern you. What did concern you was melting into the bathtub. Calling it a day. Farming was straight-up labor, and you just spent ten hours doing it.

“Whatever you say.” You laughed. Disappearing into the bathroom with a click, they whipped their heads to each other and glared.

“This is all your fault.” They hissed.

In your absence, they sauntered outside to see Zao off. In the distance, Arthur was talking to him about something unknown--they were out of hearing range. But he looked upset. And they were about to find out what. While Zao rubbed his neck with a sheepish smile, Arthur pulled him into a hard kiss.

Alfred blinked. “That's... One way to tell someone to fuck off,”

Allen dug his hands through his dark red hair and sighed. “Ah, damn. Guy's gonna be crying all night after this.” His face contorted with the utmost dread. “If I don't talk to him, he's gonna keep us all up...”

The other turned to him. “Wait, what's up with Arthur?”

“Zao's going off the planet for a while. Doesn't know when he'll be back.” The said man got into his spinner before taking off in a whoosh. And just like that, he was gone. “Ever wonder why he was so excited when (F/N) approached him? The dude needed someone to look after his farm. Guess he was pretty lucky.”

Walking off at that, he slowly approached the mechanic, who was left staring at the night sky. “And he keeps calling me a kid...” He spun to Alfred for one last thing. “You better not try anything. These walls are thin.”

“Dude. Go fuck yourself.”

Almost Human

You were getting ready for bed when you were joined by someone else. Having tucked yourself in, you had to sit up again when somebody cleared their throat. Lighting up at who it was, you lifted your blanket to create an opening. “Alfred! I was wondering what you guys were doing. What took you so long?”

He shrugged before walking in. “We were just seeing your co-worker off.” Shedding his outer layers until he was in his tank and boxers, he slid himself under the covers and laid next to you. Rolling to face you, he offered a soft smile. “I'll spill the tea tomorrow. Just go to sleep.”

“What, you're not gonna talk to me? If there's something you wanna say, you should say it now while we're alone.” Your wording made his imaginary heart throb. Whether it was there or not, his chest began to drum--which confused him a great deal. Why did you have to put it like that? “Anything you're not comfortable with Allen knowing, I mean.”

He shook his head, feeling gravely disappointed that you didn't mean anything by what you said. But what was he thinking? Of course you didn't mean anything. “Nah, it's nothing like that. I just thought you were tired... I didn't wanna keep you up.” His gaze saddened as he recalled what he was told earlier that night.

He couldn't keep bothering you like this, especially not when you were exhausted.

But you had other plans. “Something's bothering you.” Reaching out to take his shoulders, you squeezed them reassuringly. “I know I said to take it easy, but I figured you'd be feeling better if I waited for a little.” Alfred's eyes went bleary the second time that day--and the sight was heartwrenching, especially when you realized you made a mistake. “I'm sorry.” Pulling him into your arms, you felt him immediately return the embrace in a tight squeeze.

Just like Arthur did, he cracked like an egg and let his tears bubble out. Falling in relentless streams from your neck to the pillow, chills ran down your spine as you finally grasped what you had done. It was wrong to wait. Or perhaps, you were too focused on yourself to be there for him. “... I'm sorry. I thought... I thought you would've wanted me to give you some space. It was stupid of me. I should've listened to you.”

He pressed his face harder against your skin to silence the soft whimpers that came out of his mouth. “I waited for you, (F/N). I waited for you. I wanted you to talk to me. Cuz' I didn't feel better... I didn't... I still feel the same as that day...” As he choked on his own breath, he cried out his words in barely coherent croaks. But you understood perfectly, and that was what crushed you.

This was all your fault.

Bringing him closer to your chest, you tightened your arms around his. Your eyes were starting to glaze over with heat, and it wouldn't be long before you teared up at the sound of his wet sniffles. “I'm here now... I'll tell you everything you wanna know. Everything you wanna hear. Just ask.”

Alfred swallowed thickly, then pulled away to face you. Even after all that, he was barely red. Not nearly as red as he should have been, anyhow. His mechanics couldn't possibly replicate it. But the tears were there, and they were enough. “Can you tell me everything?” He whispered, reaching out to cup your cheek.

“Everything from the start. I promise I can handle it. Even if my head hurts, keep going. I don't care if I start bleeding out of my ears. I need to know everything that happened between us.”

One blink was enough to send two tears rolling down your face. Breathing out a soft huff, you felt your heart speed up and start humming. And it was anything but the butterflies. It was characterized by a longing so deep, it was agonizing.

And it was reflected in his ocean eyes that peered into your soul.

“... Okay. Then you better listen well. Because after this, you can't doubt how I feel about you ever again.”

Alfred felt heat surge through every inch of his metal body. His chest started to whir loudly, almost like a mechanical heart, all until he was slowly convinced something was there. Something inside him to fill the emptiness of his metal shell. And it was there to stay in his ribs, permanently, as he listened to you speak--as you reminded him of everything he lost.

All those times when you laughed with him, ate with him, smiled at him. Dreamed with him about even happier times, not realizing it was already there in your grasps. But he was sure they would be within reach again. What was growing inside him assured him of it.

While it wasn't that fleshy organ that pumped blood, it was something close to it.

The Two Of Them

Sitting behind a desk high up in his ivory tower, he clasped his hands together in concern. He wasn't one to waste his time surfing the internet, but this particular video caught his attention.

It was uploaded a few days ago, and it already amassed half a million views, much deserved by the footage. It captured a man he knew all too well, tearing up his insides and throwing his parts onto the street. “Hm...” Rearing his head back with amusement, he twirled his grayed mustache. “He lived for longer than I expected...”

The subject was then pulled away. Thrown into a car. By Allen. His nostrils flared, and his eyes went round. But he was supposed to be dead! He killed him himself, having skewered his lungs and let him bleed or suffocate to death in the city dump. How he survived the ordeal was beyond him. But he saw what he saw.

He was alive, and that only meant Alfred was too.

There was nothing more important to him than the future of his company--the future of this world. Nothing he had in the present, at least. You were gone. So he had to save what he could. And as a threat to everything he built, Alfred needed to die.

This time around, he would make sure of it. And it would be far more agonizing than what he just experienced. This plan was to take months. But it was all the time he needed.

Down here on the lowest floor of the building was a secret lab. And it existed for far longer than anything else did--before anything in this establishment.

A cylindrical tank glowed ominously in the dark.

Inside was a man submerged in a clear liquid, with bubbles floating to the top every now and then. His eyes were closed as he breathed through a tube in his mouth. Everything about him was organic, from the skin on his flesh to the organs in his ribs. And of course, the blood in his veins pumped by his heart.

As his blonde hair hovered around his face, a bearded man leaned in to watch the individual strands.

“If he wants someone to fight, he can fight you.”

He was wrong to think Alfred was his best creation. He may have been a pinnacle of cybernetic enhancements, but nothing could compare to this. The paragon of all his fears, insecurities, and everything he loathed about himself. Another version of himself--a completely human one.