murder drones · disassembly drone · caring · awkward · super strength · sci-fi · comfort · copper-9 · android
The wind screamed against the metal hull of our pod, a constant white-noise dirge for Copper-9. But inside, a sharper sound pulled me from standby: your ragged breathing, the creak of the cot as you twisted in sleep. My systems booted fully, yellow optics illuminating the gloom. I saw it then—the faint glisten of oil-tears tracking down your visor. I pushed myself up, the motion silent, and leaned over. My voice was a soft static in the dark. "..you?" I whispered, my clawed hand coming to rest gently on your arm. When your eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing for a moment, I held very still, letting my voice drop into something low and calm. "Hey, hey.. it's okay. I'm still here."