Work Text:
— — —
Zane has a virus.
Yes, again.
But it hurts this time. Last time Zane had a virus, it hadn’t necessarily affected them in any way, and it definitely didn’t sting.
It didn’t burn.
But, alas, that is the fate that has befallen the Nindroid. They don’t know how, but in some way or another, a virus had creeped its way into Zane’s systems and had buried itself in their arm. And now, Nya is attempting to remove said virus, but there are many . . . complications.
“Zane, I don’t really know how to say this,” Nya begins, taking a deep breath, “but in order to stop the virus from spreading to your main systems while I work on actually removing it, I first need to remove your arm.”
Zane goes silent, lost in thought. They stare at the floor, suddenly aware of all of their surroundings at once. The barely masked concern in Nya’s face, the hum and buzz of the workshop’s fluorescent lights, the way the metal table feels like a piece of Zane’s own ice beneath their fingers; how the metal creaks every so often, straining under Zane’s weight, how Nya’s chair squeaks every time she adjusts herself, how Zane’s processors are moving in fast motions — so fast that even they can hear it, and they are sure Nya can as well.
It is all so, so much.
It is too much.
“Hey, Zane?” Nya’s voice carries a softness it hadn’t before. “Are you alright? Do I- do I need to get someone?”
Zane wordlessly nods, and Nya soon stands up, sighing. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t move, or else it’ll get worse,” she instructs before exiting the room, shutting the workshop’s metal door with a loud clang that makes Zane flinch — just a little.
A minute passes. Then two. And then three. And then five.
Zane tries to do anything to keep themself from going insane while waiting for Nya. They count the screws in the floor tiles, they mentally reorganize Nya’s toolbox, they sort through the combat and medical procedures they have laid out in their head, and they even begin to rate the books they’d read recently on a tier list they also make on the spot.
And then finally, finally, the workshop door opens. Nya walks through first, leading another person in, who, at first, Zane doesn’t recognize. After a few moments, however, the identity of the second person becomes clear as day.
Cole.
The absolute one person that Zane doesn’t want to see right now.
Not because they had a fight or anything — in fact, they are almost as close as they ever have been — but because Zane doesn’t want Cole to see them in this state of pure agony. They don’t want the person they care about the most to see them at their worst. They don’t want Cole to worry about them, but Zane is unable to stop the onslaught of concern they are almost immediately put through the second Cole sees them sitting on the metal table.
“Zane!” Cole rushes towards them, careful not to break anything in the workshop as he does so. “Zane, what happened?” He eventually gets to be in front of Zane, gently cupping their face in his hands, but not forcing them to look up.
Nya arrives back in her chair soon after, and sighs. “A virus. Somehow, it avoided every security measure that they have and then it buried itself deep in their arm — and when I say ‘deep’, I mean ‘I have to remove Zane’s arm to get it out,’ deep.” This causes Cole to look towards Nya in shock before turning his head back to look at Zane’s still downcast face.
“I’m assuming that’s why I’m here?” Cole asks, half to Nya and half to Zane. A hum of confirmation escapes Nya’s lips.
“I thought that Zane might appreciate someone else’s presence while I do the . . . thing,” Nya gestures towards Zane’s limp arm. Cole just nods and sits down on the table next to Zane, switching from holding their face to holding their non-limp hand in a hold between two of his own hands.
A minute passes by of just pure silence, said silence only being interrupted by the buzzing of the lights or the creaking of metal somewhere in the workshop.
Finally, Nya takes a deep breath. “Can I start?” She tries her best to make eye contact with Zane, but she ultimately fails when they just nod and turn their head away from Nya, not wanting to see the ‘procedure’.
Zane turns their head into Cole’s chest, where they are then held by one of Cole’s hands. The noiret softly rubs his thumb back and forth along the side of Zane’s head. It helps with their nerves, even if it only helps a little.
However, every sense of comfort that Zane has disappears the moment the first connection severs. If Zane could cry, they would be. The even worse part is that they aren’t even able to turn off their pain receptors, because of course that one specific switch just has to be in the virus-infected arm.
Another connection to the arm is severed, and Zane clenches their jaw in an attempt to push through the pain. Cole feels them tense up, so he leans his head down and presses a soft kiss to the top of Zane’s head, whispering, “It’s okay. You’re doing great, Frosty.” The only response Zane is able to give is a small nod as yet another connection point is split. They screw their eyes shut, and just pray to the First Master to allow the pain to end soon.
They’ve never felt pain like this before. Not when they had their face plate blown off by the Overlord, not when they were in pieces in Chen’s dungeon, not even when they literally ceased to exist for a moment.
Which is what makes this so much harder for them. They aren’t used to pain; to injury, even. Usually, if Zane was injured in some way, they would just flick the pain switch to get rid of the feeling of fire ants crawling under their skin. But, once more, they are unable to do that now, because the virus has decided to be wildly inconvenient.
Another wire cut; another connection broken. Zane bites back everything they want to shout. Cole continues to do his best to comfort his partner, and honestly, it would be worse if not for his mere presence next to Zane.
Snip, break, snap.
It seems almost neverending.
The pain just keeps coursing through Zane’s body in waves; unstoppable, ruthless, merciless.
An hour passes, spent with careful and meticulous work to disconnect Zane’s arm from their body. It’s finally over.
Zane is almost sent into a panic at the sudden loss of pain until they realize what that actually means. Their arm is gone, but so is the virus; so is the pain.
Once again, Zane finds themself wanting to cry, but being unable to. This time, however, Zane does not want to cry tears of pain and tears of agony, but instead tears of joy, for the entire painful ordeal is over. Sure, Nya still has to actually reattach Zane’s arm, but that part will be painless.
Realizing that Zane no longer has to sit still on the table, Cole turns his upper body to face Zane, and, once more, he cups his partner's face in his hands.
“You did wonderful,” Cole smiles as he whispers. As they hear those words, Zane reaches up and places their still-intact hand on top of one of Cole’s. Lines of warnings referring to an exhaustion procedure run across Zane’s vision, but they can care less.
However, the program still started to run, and just as Zane was powering down, they felt a soft kiss once again being placed on the top of their head.
— — —
Zane is not sure how long it has been since they powered down, but they assume it's been a while, considering their arm is reattached and they are lying down in their bed.
One more thing that suggests that its been a while is that the sky is completely dark from what Zane can see out of the window, and because, despite all the other thoughts that race through their head, Zane still takes time to notice Cole’s arms wrapped securely around his partner’s waist.
Wanting to return the gesture from earlier, Zane kisses the back of their boyfriend’s hand after carefully lifting it away from their waist. They intertwine their fingers with Cole’s, and slowly but surely, they power down once more.