“Is it hurt?” someone in the crowd whispered. “Is it hurting?”

“They pushed that slab right off the seventh floor. I saw it!” someone else chimed in. “They did it on purpose. Landed right on top of him!”

“Ryker, give us some air,” Mikki spoke up, snapping his attention from the deadened look on Ives’ face.

“Alright, alright!” Ryker came to, turning to the crowd and waving his arms. “Let’s back up, give our tech room to work. I need everyone to take five giant steps back.” He helped make room, someone bringing over markers to project the lighted barriers.

Ives was eventually loaded into a tech van to get away from the crowd and provide more tools to help his condition. It was hours later when Ryker was able to take one of his breaks and head over, hoping to get an update on Ives’ condition. He knocked on the back door and what surprised when Mikki opened it, stepping out.

“Perfect, Captain, you’re exactly who I wanted to see,” she removed the stained gloves from her hands, hooking them on her hips. “We’re having to put Ives into safe-mode. There was some damage to his hardware, loose connections and overheating after the initial point of contact. We were able to replace any damage to the chassis, and luckily there wasn’t any physical harm to his hardware. He just needs time to readjust.”

Ryker glanced behind her to where Ives was sitting on the table, taking directions from one of the techs who was having him follow their hand with his eyes.

“Safe-mode? What… what does that mean?”

“He’s not entirely up and running. He’s functioning, there are just a few scripts and functions he has to work out. That’s simply going to take time.” Mikki turned to look back at him. “Similar to a human concussion. He’s just in self-diagnostics, which has a higher recovery rate than an Auditor resetting him.”

“Shit,” Ryker sighed. “Is he going to be alright?”

“Of course,” Mikki nodded. “It could take a few hours or a few days. But it’s quicker than wiping him and having to upload from a backup. That could take weeks for his system to adjust. I don’t recommend it.”

“Yeah, I’d like to steer clear from a wipe too.” Ryker frowned.

“I was actually on my way to get a hold of you,” Mikki turned back to him, blindly reaching for the van door to pull it to. “I don’t think it would be wise to leave Ives unattended,” she spoke quietly, face impassive. “I’m reporting after hours for scheduled maintenance and won’t be back at the station until tomorrow afternoon. I could take Ives with me but I don’t know that Auditors would agree with this process.”

She tilted her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Oh, well, yeah. Would you like me to watch him tonight?” He guessed and she straightened back up with a smile.

“I appreciate your offer,” she nodded, opening the door back up. “Are you on your way back to the station?” She spoke a little louder than a normal volume and Ryker caught on.

“Yeah, I was just headed back that way.”

“Do you mind taking Ives with you? Dropping him off there?” She blinked a number of times.

“Sure,” he winced as she suddenly turned to lean back inside.

“Captain Ryker is going to take Ives back by the station. I can ride back with you to BloomingTek.” Mikki told the tech, waving at Ives before turning back around to whisper. "Take him home."

DATE AND TIME UNKNOWN NETWORK UNAVAILABLE

There was the sway of big band music in the other room, Ives sitting up on the bed to look around. His olfactory sensors picked up the smell of braised meat, onions, and peppers, coming to the conclusion that Ryker must have been cooking in the kitchen. Feeling successful at that deduction, he smiled and pulled his feet off the side of the bed.

It took some time to get his equilibrium, still wobbly as he held his balance on the bed. And then the dresser. His HUD attempted to pull up the name of the song, trying to hum along to it as he studied the photographs pinned to the corkboard above the dresser. He recognized himself in a few of them, smiling as he leaned closer.

It wasn’t long before he was rifling through the drawers, pulling out one of the light blue shirts he recognized with a band name on it. Deciding he liked it, he stumbled against the dresser as he fought to pull his own shirt off and replace it with the band tee. He also found a small drawer of sunglasses, picking out a pair that caught his fancy to slide on.

He wandered about the room a little longer, visuals having one hell of a time recognizing anything through the sunglasses which he could only describe as hilarious –tricking and obscuring his HUD to see just how many error messages he could get. Finally, he drifted out into the hall, hand bracing along the wall as he stumbled into the kitchen.

Ryker was standing at the stove, turning at the motion to laugh. “Hey there, buddy.” He snickered, looking Ives over in the sunglasses, stolen shirt bunched up above his boxers. “Feeling pretty good?”

Ives made his way over, peering over his shoulder into the pan on the stove. The steam made the lenses of the glasses fog up instantly frustrating his HUD further. “I feel great,” Ives mumbled.

“You’re sure you don’t need a little more time?” Ryker snickered, turning to look at him.

“No, nope I just wanted to talk to you.” He smiled, the sunglasses sliding down his nose.

“Here, let me get these,” Ryker reached up, taking them off earning a pout.

“Why? I like them. Can’t I wear them?”

“Of course,” Ryker sat them aside, “but if you’re here to talk, I’d like to see those pretty blue eyes.”

“Oh,” Ives grinned, swaying closer only to catch himself on the counter. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Captain?”

“Have been for seven years, but thanks for noticing,” he stirred at the pan before cutting the heat. “Maybe we should sit down to talk about things—”

“Do you have feelings for me, Captain?” Ives blurted, turning his back to the counter to help support his unsteady weight.

“We should get you back—”

“Valetta thinks you do. They’ve got a bet going, you see.”

“Oh, they do?”

“But humans like to project romantic connections on each –on each other.” Ives urged informatively.

“They do, don’t they?”

“They do, don’t they,” Ives nodded, humming as something in his processes lagged. Everything felt warm and slow. “It makes them gentle,” he went on. “It makes them want to pack bond with us, even when they know -they know we’re not like them. We might look like them, you see, but we’re different.”

“I see,” Ryker smiled, cutting off the stove and turning with arms crossed. “And you don’t want to be packbonding with them?”

“I love to pack bond with them.” Ives slapped his knee for emphasis. “They’re so silly. Always in a hurry, trying to get ahead of one another, or look out for one another when they’re all just soft –they trip the wrong way and they could be dead.” He motioned down to the floor. “They need looking after. Someone ought to.”

“Yes, they should.”

“They’re all so different, too. But then there’s Ryker, and he’s not like any other human.” Ives prodded a finger into his shoulder. “When a human is like Hadrian they’re like an outlier, the end of the spectrum that has no comparison. He’s one in a million –no, eight billion.”

“Alright, let’s get you off your feet. Mikki said it might take you a few days to recover,” Ryker patted his shoulder, trying to urge him back to the bedroom.

“No, no, no,” Ives stood his ground, needing to finish his train of thought. It was important. As if the data hadn’t been completely clear or within sequence until now. “Hadrian isn’t like any other person. He always chooses kindness, always. And that’s what humans are about, aren’t they? Some of the oldest findings of human history are archaeological sites of humans with healed broken bones. Specifically femurs. Someone had to help them, care for them, because without that care they wouldn’t have survived. Kindness is what it means to be human. Hadrian is kindness.”

“I… well, thank you. But we really should get you back. Maybe try another reboot?”

“You’re mine,” he cleared the errors in his HUD. Ryker stared at him, dumbfounded, gaping on words he’d only half-started. Ives lurched closer, resting a hand on Ryker’s cheek.

“Wh-what?”

Ives could feel the temperature shift of his blush against his palm. His second hand pressed against Ryker’s other cheek to successfully hold his face in his hands. Eyes wide. Stunned. Face squished just so causing his lips to pillow. “You’re my human,” he whispered, running fingers into his hair to guide him closer.

“Ives, I don’t think we should—!” The words were lost against Ives’ mouth, pulled into the kiss. A new slew of errors popped up, filling his visuals even as Ives closed his eyes. He kept brushing them aside, packing them into the corners of his feed to keep from distracting him. They swarmed and piled up until they had blocked every pel of space with their orange glow.

And then gone.

The last bit of script clicked into place clearing the haze. Ives felt a hand on his chest, opening his eyes as Ryker leaned back. His cheeks were flushed, one hand gripping the counter as the other rested against Ives, holding their balance as he gawked up at him. His hair was disheveled, lips red and irritated. Ives glanced around the kitchen trying to familiarize himself.

“You okay?” Ryker whispered. Ives straightened, absently wiping at his mouth when the backlog hit him. He glanced stiffly at Ryker before taking a step back. “Hey, hey, you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay,” Ryker followed, reaching up to hold Ives’ face. “It’s okay. Trust me, you don’t have to be sorry.”

“I-I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t professional of me. You were trying to tell me no.”

“I was trying to say to wait until you were out of safe-mode. So you’re thinking clearly. But now you’re here.” Ryker smiled, soothing thumbs across his cheeks. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be professional.”

It was Ives’ turn to gawk. “You’re not upset with me? For what I said?”

“Why would I be upset over the nicest thing ever said to me?” Ryker laughed softly, urging him down to rest their foreheads together. Ives released a manual sigh of warm air, leaning against him.

“I can go back to the station for the night now that I’m in order. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not going anywhere with my favorite shirt,” he snickered, leaning back and giving it a tug. “You’re welcome to stay the night. In fact, I’d like you here.”

“You would?”

“Yeah.” He was blushing again, “I kinda like pieyied Ives. A little messy and real honest.” Ives couldn’t help but smile, shyly looking at the floor. “C’mon, stay? I’ll take you back in the morning.”

“When was the last time they lost?” Valetta asked, sipping at her coffee.

“Oh, like, three weeks ago.” His defense turned into a smug victory.

“So you haven’t washed the jersey in three weeks? C’mon, my dude, that’s gross.”

“Ryker’s here, he’ll agree with us and he’s a guy,” Lora pointed at him, waving him over excitedly. “Garnet has this disgusting jersey he doesn’t wash because he thinks it’s lucky.”

“It’s not disgusting, and I don’t wear it every day! Just on game day.” He defended. “You know how it is! You wash it and your team ends up losing. Why would you take that chance?”

“Like a lucky charm,” Ryker guessed.

“Yeah! See!”

“I mean, I get it, but do you have to wear it?”

“Thank you!” Lora burst.

“That’s the whole point, it’s game day!” Garnet clapped his hands for emphasis. “You guys don’t do anything exciting. You wouldn’t get it.”

“No, Garnet, we don’t. I love watching soccer but you don’t see me wearing a jersey that could probably stand up on its own for luck.” Lora rolled her eyes. “It’s just you being gross.”

“So, is luck considered something stored in bacteria or dirt particles?” Beau guessed, the tilt of his head making it apparent he was feigning innocence to encourage the argument.

“No! Luck is… it’s just what you do, okay? I don’t tell you guys how to do your makeup.” Garnet got up, locking his desk. “When they win the cup, I don’t wanna hear anything.”

“Please tell me that’s coming up soon so you’ll wash the damn thing.” Lora harped. Ryker glanced over noticing Ives coming in, a little concerned at the sound of the conversation.

“Is everything alright?” He asked quietly.

“Oh, yeah, it’s always something -you know how it is.” Ryker smirked. “Today’s discussion is over questionable laundry habits and lucky charms.”

“Lucky charms?” Ives asked, following him as Ryker motioned him on, retreating for the breakroom for coffee.

“Yeah, you know, something that makes you feel lucky or protected. Wards off danger and the like –you used to be my lucky charm.” He chuckled, unsure if he should have said it as he busied himself with getting a mug from the cabinet. A pain twisted up his leg causing him to wince as he settled back down on his feet, tucking the cup in the coffeemaker.

“Are you alright?” Ives asked, stepping over beside him.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Ryker selected his brew settings, rubbing a hand on his thigh. “I fell out of a helicopter once and it bothers me every now and again.”

“You fell out of a helicopter?”

“Yeah, but not like far. Like if you were to jump off a single-story roof. Like, do you remember how your jaw used to get hung up if you moved it wrong from that one bar fight incident? Like that.”

Ives frowned, head tilted slightly. “I have 8,672 error messages from my jaw malfunction and I delete and scrub each one.” He reached up, tapping the faint soldering line from the repair. “It still does.”

“What?” Ryker turned to lean against the counter, brow pinching. “What do you mean it still does? Didn’t they fix it?”

“They tried, but I won’t let them.”

“Why not?” Ryker chuckled. “That’s got to be annoying as hell.”

“It…” Ives thought about it, smiling. “It’s my lucky charm.”

“Huh,” Ryker felt himself lose focus, glancing away unable to stop himself from grinning. “Well, I mean, I could always get you something you could keep as a lucky charm. That way, if anyone ever asked you what I got you, it’s not ‘oh, my busted jaw’.” He laughed to try and keep his composure as Ives stepped closer.

“I don’t need anyone else to understand,” he whispered, the curve of his mouth making the jaw injury more apparent. It caused a slight misalignment at the edge of his lips on one side, causing the bottom one to turn out a bit more, appearing more pillowed.

“I never took you for a sap,” Ryker joked, reaching up to touch the side of his face, thumb tracing over the indention.

“Me? Absolutely not.” It was a soft laugh, closing his eyes as Ryker rocked up on his toes, kissing the mark on his jaw. It was soft and slow, sinking away with a clear breakout of red across the bridge of his nose. He laughed shyly, hand resting on Ives’ arm.

“I meant it, though, I can get you something that doesn’t give you error messages.”

“Hm, even still, I’m keeping it.” Ives continued to study his face, unsure how long they stood there, staring like idiots. “But let me know if you ever need any help with this,” he pressed a hand against Ryker’s thigh before turning to go, dragging his fingers until he grazed his knee. “And don’t forget your coffee,” he added, helpful and smug.

Ives waited for clearance to see Ryker in the ICU. The hospital room was bleak and sterile, even more so without sunlight to provide warmth. With night pressing in the windows, the stark white light of the long lamp above the bed made Ryker look pale. The lacerations and contusions on his arms and face seemed darker in contrast as if they were the only sign there was still blood in his body.

Ives barely heard the nurse inform him that it would be several hours, if not the next day until Ryker would wake up.

But he will wake up?

Forcing himself to sit in the chair at the bedside, Ives continued comparing his biometric readings to that of the patient monitor before settling in for the long haul. He went through messages, alerting everyone of Ryker’s condition and assuring them he would keep them updated. Most were busy with cleanup or paperwork, stuck on the clock without being able to visit.

Hours later there was a detectable change in the atmosphere. The ward had gone quiet, shift change complete, and the first round of nightly check-ins was finished. There was only the hum and beep of monitors in the rooms –the sound of humans fighting for their lives.

It was then, in the echoing quiet when Ryker’s breathing shifted. Ives was immediately aware, looking up from his lap to see Ryker —as typically stubborn— struggling to open his eyes. They were loose behind their lids, fighting to focus. He looked around, heart rate spiking, panic clear in his eyes.

And even if Ives wished he never had to see him that way, he was at Ryker’s bedside in an instant.

“Hadrian,” he soothed, not sure if he was successful in softening his voice, but it was enough for Ryker to look at him. There was a strange expression on his face, not entirely readable. “You in the hospital,” Ives tried to sound reassuring. “You’re safe. Everyone is okay.”

Ryker responded with a heartbreaking gurgle, unable to speak due to his bruised lungs and the oxygen mask strapped to his face. His look of distress caused Ives to act without thinking, reaching down to wrap Ryker’s hand in his, crouching down to be eye level, and whispering, “I’m here.” It was blunt, feeling a bit foolish when there was only the sound of the life support equipment in response. But he had Ryker’s attention.

“I’m always going to be right here for you. No matter what. I might not be good at it, but I try. I always check to make sure your gear and car are updated, without software malfunction. I check with Pax to make sure there isn’t a delay in your medication delivery. I keep the office manager informed so that your favorite kind of coffee is always in stock.”

Ryker blinked at him, looking confused but was no longer panicking. So Ives went on.

“I… I built a script to monitor the radios, to notify me when you’re number is called and when you call in to dispatch. In case I can help. If I’m nearby.” He leaned against the bed, vision beginning to blur with moisture as he brought Ryker's hand up to tuck under his chin. “I didn’t… I know I didn’t get to you in time, this time. We were going to set up a blockade three exits before your crash, but they didn’t listen to my opinion –didn’t get the truck there in time. I know I wasn’t there for you then, but I’m here now. I’m still here for you.”

Ryker made a sad sound, his hand moving in Ives’ hold to brush the side of his face. He thumbed uncoordinatedly at tears, crackling a hum.

Ives pressed his face into his palm, rough and cut up from glass. He kissed the skin there, shutting his eyes trying to feel Ryker's heartbeat. The repetitive petting of his thumb grew slower and slower, weaker and weaker. Ives opened his eyes, watching the way Ryker’s eyes were growing heavy, half-lidded and lilting.

Even stubborn in this, he fights.

Ryker resisted sleep with the same determination he fought to keep his head above water every single day. Through the pain, the memories, the guilt and anxiety. It was nearly too much for Ives to bear, making something in his system twist and ache. Settling on his knees, he lowered their intertwined hands to the bed, tipping his head to lightly rest atop it, keeping their eyes locked.

“I’m here,” he promised again, softer. “I’ll be here while you sleep and when you wake up.”

A moment longer of fighting, hand twitching to squeeze Ives’ before finally relaxing. His eyes sank closed, heart rate going steady and breath drawing out before easing off to sleep. Ives didn’t let go, tilting to press lips to Ryker’s battered knuckles, watching the way his face softened.