After the war

What if there’s a reason The Spine is so uptight and “boring” as Rabbit occasionally puts it. What if the reason he behaves so humanly is not because of his programming but because of something else…


1945. The robots finally return home after Germany surrenders to the Allied Forces. Needless to say their collective chassis were in dire need of maintenance and a deep clean after the battering, mud and blood they all took in the trenches. They’d lost a lot of good friends out there. Rabbit and The Jon, the more childlike of the group, were the worst affected. Although the tragedy of war was no stranger to them, it was never any easier to deal with over time. Upgrade hadn’t spoken the entire trip back. Having been a strictly medical based bot, she had to deal with all manner of horrific injuries. Her face was still spattered with blood from the countless soldiers in their last fits of coughing and laboured breathing. It was impossible to tell how she was holding up in that veil of muteness. The Spine didn’t seem as fazed externally. That whole time he’d been more preoccupied in protecting his less durable siblings than actually dealing with fallen and dying soldiers. All in the name of keeping his promise to Pappy that he’d always look after his silbings and keep them safe. He’d felled more soldiers than he’d saved. It didn't matter. All that mattered to him was that his family was alright. Even if Hatchworth was down in the vault, it didn’t matter. They were safe. They were all he had left in the end.

Rabbit burst through the door shouting for Pappy, desperately needing that fatherly love they’d all been craving and sorely missing since being torn away to help fight the Nazis. Jon was quick to follow in this crazed pursuit. The Spine carefully guided a shellshocked Upgrade to the nearest seat in the foyer and went to find the Walters. After ten minutes of searching, he found Peter II sat slumped in a large armchair in the first West library, a crumpled sheet of paper in his lap and a discarded book at his feet.

“Peter?” Spine spoke softly.

Peter II sprang to life, startled at the sudden vocalisation. The Spine winced. That kind of human reaction was never easy for him to process, what with it being associated more with genuine fear of him rather than harmless surprise.

“Spine! I… You’re back! You’re safe!” Peter II leapt out of his chair and ran to The Spine, locking him in a tight embrace. The Spine smiled and returned the gesture, gently patting his human brother on the back.

“We are. Intact, but we’re in need of maintenance and repair. Rabbit took quite a beating and Upgrade hasn’t spoken since we got out of the warzone.”

“Oh of course, I’ll get the engineers on it.”

“Just the engineers? Actually, Peter, I was hoping Pappy could help with the repairs” Spine interjected, “Rabbit’s been missing him this whole time. It’d mean a lot to Rabbit if he was there, like old times.”

“Spine…”

“Yes?”

“I…” Peter II glanced down at the floor. How was he going to tell him?

“Peter, it’s okay. We’re back. We’re a family again! I know Pappy’s been sick lately but I’m sure it’ll do him good to see his family together again.”

“The Spine, that’s the thing. He…”

The Spine’s optics grew wide, “He’s got worse!?” He blurted.

“W-w-what’s all the yellin’ about?” Rabbit stammered, hobbling precariously into the library.

Peter’s attention snapped to the rickety robot, “Rabbit, maybe you should get your repairs done first”

“W-why? I-I-I-I thought y-y-you’d be happy ta see us!”

Peter II sighed and smiled faintly, “I am, Rabbit, I am. We’re all glad you’re safe. But you do need to get yourself looked at. We can all talk later and perhaps have some tea when you’re all fixed up?”

“Sh-sh-sure!” Rabbit stuttered heavily and puffed a huge cloud of steam before swiftly marching to the laboratories, “I’ll say ‘Hi’ to Ha-Hatchy for ya, S-spine!”

“Rabbit you know you’re not allowed-“ Peter II was interrupted by a cold metallic hand on his shoulder.

“Let Rabbit go see him, just this once?”

Peter II relented and pinched the bridge of his nose, “How am I ever going to deal with all five of you on my own…”

“Well you’re not on your…wait, what?”

Peter II turned to face The Spine again. His green optics were quickly filling with worry and immeasurable dread for his creator. This was not going to be easy.

~*~

“But why can’t we see Pappy!” The Jon cried indignantly.

“Y-y-yeah! Why n-not?” Rabbit chimed in, “We haven’t s-s-seen him in f-four years!”

The Spine rounded the corner with a grim look upon his face and Peter II in tow. He spied his clockwork siblings screeching in protest at their father’s locked door. Peter III was desperately trying to placate them though his efforts proved fruitless.

“Look, you just can’t. I… Spine!”

The Spine snapped his head up as Peter III called to him, “Can you please deal with your siblings? They’re giving me a headache.”

“Of course, Colonel,” he responded flatly.

Peter III was puzzled by this. The Spine usually referred to him as Peter or III outside of wartimes. He looked Peter II in the eye and was met with a similarly grim look. He knew then. The Spine had already been informed.

“Rabbit, Jon, come with me.”

“B-b-but…” Rabbit began to protest.

“Now,” he almost growled.

The two Peters stared after them as the ‘bots disappeared down the corridor. It was rare to see The Spine like this. Sure he had bouts of angst due to his brooding and complicated personality, but this was something far worse. Something they feared he’d never come out of for the rest of his existence.

~*~

The bots walked slowly back to the foyer to find Upgrade. There was an awkward silence hanging over them. Spine walked with his eyes clamped shut. They wondered how he was managing to avoid careering into any furniture along the way. Though they had no need to breathe, the air felt heavy. The silence was becoming too much to bear.

“Spine?” Jon piped up at last.

Spine froze in his tracks, eyes still shut. Rabbit and Jon crashed into him from behind, yet they were unable to shift his weight. Two tons of titanium was hard to move after all.

“S-s-s-summat the matta?” Rabbit crept round his side.

Spine huffed and billowed steam from his vents. He opened his eyes to look at Rabbit’s mismatched optics and Jon’s baby blues. He felt his core twist and wrench inside him. It was agony.

“There’s something you need to know. And Upgrade needs to hear this too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible above a crackle.

“Is it ab-b-b-bout…”

“Yes.”

Rabbit’s mouth opened to protest at the vagueness of Spine’s answer but to no avail. Spine began walking towards the foyer again, taking wider strides and clenching his optics tightly shut. Rabbit and Jon looked at each other briefly before bounding along to keep up with their lofty silver brother. It wasn’t long before they reached their destination. Upgrade was still exactly where Spine had left her, hands folded neatly in her lap and soft blue optics cast to the ground. She still said nothing. Barely even acknowledged her siblings were there.

“Well? We’re here, sooo… what did you need to tell us?” Jon bubbled.

Spine bit his lip. Jon was such an innocent, naïve little bot. Like a puppy. It was impossible to ever be angry with him with those big blue eyes and happy demeanour. But this was not anger. This was something worse. Peter II struggled to tell Spine who was considered to be the most mature of the group. A far cry from Jon who lived in a constant bubble of sunshine and rainbows. How in the world would he give such awful news to a face like that? Would Jon even understand?

“There’s… there’s something you need to know about Pappy…” he began, his voice crackling and unsteady.

“Sp-spine? You okay, buddy?” Rabbit put a spindly hand on Spine’s shoulder. A silver hand reached up to grasp it gently.

He was choking on his words.

“I… Pappy… Pa-pa-pa…” Spine started to stammer. This unnerved Rabbit and Jon greatly. Spine NEVER malfunctions. At least not that as far as they could see, but he ran near perfectly most of the time. Pappy built him that way after all. He was the dependable one, the strong and reliable Spine, now reduced to this stammering shaking automaton. It terrified them. Upgrade broke her stare from the floor to gaze up at the sight of her trembling brother.

“What about Pappy? Is he coming down to see us?” Jon squeaked.

“N-no, Jon, he isn’t,” Spine hissed quietly, still struggling to correctly form speech.

The three of them felt their boilers go cold.

“Di-d-di-did he g-g-g-get m-more sick-ick!?” Rabbit’s stutter became worse with the agitation and worry.

Spine’s head drooped, arms dangling limply at his sides, as if he’d powered down. There was a short moment of awkward silence as his three siblings exchanged confused and concerned looks.

He inhaled deeply.

“Pappy. Pappy got sicker. Too sick.”

He opened his optic shutters and looked at them. Oil escaped onto his cheekplates as he grimly went about the task of breaking the news, shattering what was left of their innocence.

“H-he p-passed away a few months after we went to the war. I’m…I’m-I’m-I’m…”

He got stuck in a loop before bursting into pained tears as he moved forward to take them all into a tight embrace.

“I’M SO SORRY!!” He howled into their shoulders, finally breaking the audio loop.

They were dumbstruck. Their Pappy. Their beloved Pappy was gone. They didn’t even get to say goodbye. Hatchworth probably hadn’t either. And he knew before they did. They couldn’t even know if he was truly alright behind that heavy vault door. The three of them collapsed in their brother’s arms and gripped his shirt tightly, with Upgrade breaking her silence at last to sob into his chest. Rabbit fought against another malfunction to hold onto The Spine as if life depended upon it. And Jon? Jon was inconsolable.

“P-pappy…nooo…” Rabbit whined, grasping Spine tighter as he held them closer.

~*~

Two months had passed. There was a harrowing muteness throughout the manor. It was once so full of life with the robot siblings chasing each other through the corridors, laughing and singing together, creating beautiful music on the various instruments scattered around the abode and inventing games to play with the children. Now there was just silence, too much silence.

The Spine traced a finger across the keys of the piano. Pappy loved to hear him play on this. They sat side by side during Spine’s recitals. Pappy was never much of a musician, though he’d always had a great love of the music his robotic children created. The Spine smiled weakly. He couldn’t bring himself to play a single note. He stalked off quietly to find someone else other than his own shadow.

He came across Rabbit in the kitchen repeatedly throwing a steak-knife into the table, chin in the other free hand. The Jon was sat quietly next to his copper sibling in his jammies. It was the hour Pappy would read stories to them before they had to go into stasis. Upgrade stood silently staring out of the kitchen window. It was an awful sight. He almost wished he hadn’t told them. He wished Pappy hadn’t left them. This was too much.

He left without saying a word to them. He ran down the hall before finding himself in front of the old piano. The silence was deafening. His head was screaming. Screaming helplessly and futilely for Pappy. He had to do something, ANYTHING, to break this awful silence.

The three automatons heaved a collective sigh of steam as they had been doing so by the hour previously. Their attention suddenly turned to soft singing and a piano’s melody in the distance. It was a song they’d heard before, a song Pappy taught them. Granted it was off-key when Pappy tried to sing it for them, but it was Pappy’s nonetheless. They looked at each other before creeping out of the kitchen and followed the music. They peered round the doorway to see who the mystery musician was.

“He was waiting for me, but I didn’t know how to use my fins. The sky was always up there, but my feathers seemed so awkward. I’m taking the time now to do the things that I couldn’t do before. I can do it by myself now, but it’s comforting to know you’re always there…”

Their jaws opened slightly.

“If I trip or if I fall or if I’m just too scared…”

They listened quietly as their brother finished playing their song, a lonesome serenade they always found such comfort in. His fingers rested on the keys as the silence slowly returned. He didn’t budge or so much as twitch whilst they stared into the back of his head.

“Spine…” Jon murmured.

“You three should be getting ready for stasis,” Spine quietly responded.

“But…”

“Go. Now,” he stated flatly. His tone barely changed, still soft and stern.

They hurried towards their chambers, fearing they’d upset Spine somehow. Stasis-time was awkward for them nowadays. Pappy had always tucked them in before, even in his old age and entertained their demands for a bedtime story or several followed by a goodnight kiss. Not this time.

It wasn’t long before The Spine passed by in the corridor on his way to his own chamber.

“Spiiiine?” Jon called out into the dark hall.

“Stasis, Jon. Now.”

“Buh-but…” he whimpered.

The Spine puffed a small cloud of frustrated steam and entered Jon’s chamber, “What is it, Jon?”

“I, I can’t fall into stasis,” he replied meekly.

Spine’s expression softened. He sat down next to Jon on his bed and patted a brass hand clasping the covers.

“How ‘bout a bedtime story then, pardner? Would that help you drift off easier?”

Jon’s eyes went wide and focused on The Spine.

“Re-really?”

Spine nodded and smiled gently.

“Which one would you like to hear?” He paced over to Jon’s bookshelf and traced a thumb over the many novels collecting dust.

“Pinocchio?” Jon asked quietly, “Please?”

The Spine turned to face Jon, “But you’ve heard that one a million times already…”

“I, I know. But another time can’t hurt, right?”

Now how could Spine resist those doe-like eyes. He quickly came to realise that’s exactly how Jon always got his way with Pappy.

“Well alright then.”

Jon practically bounced with delight. Spine collected the heavily worn book from the shelf and made himself comfortable on the bed as Jon settled down and nuzzled into his chest. He looked up at his gentle giant of a brother in anticipation of his favourite story being retold once again.

Not long after The Spine had finished reading the story, The Jon was deep in stasis curled into his side. He hadn’t the heart to move and return to his own chamber. He smiled softly and planted a kiss on the top of Jon’s head like Pappy used to. Even though The Spine insisted he never needed a goodnight kiss, he got one from Pappy anyway no matter how much he protested. He secretly enjoyed it, never taking it for granted. He shifted further down the pillow and brought his small brother closer into a cuddle and slowly started to drift into stasis.

“Sp-spine?”

A troubled voice called out from the hall and Spine abruptly snapped awake again. He furrowed his brow and stared directly at the doorway.

“Rabbit? What’s wrong?”

Rabbit crept into Jon’s chamber, mismatched optics stained with oil that was leaking onto pale blue jammies.

“I-I-I…had a ni-nightmare. I c-c-couldn’t sleep… you weren’t in your chamber and I-I-I…”

Spine’s expression softened into understanding sympathy. He stretched an unoccupied arm out across Jon’s bed, inviting Rabbit in.

“C’mon buddy.”

“Ya…ya sh-sure?”

He nodded as Rabbit scurried into the room and made a beeline for Spine’s waiting embrace. Rabbit curled into Spine’s free side and buried a tearful face in Spine’s shoulder. Spine rubbed a hand on Rabbit’s shuddering arm to soothe his sibling and ease the worry away. It seemed to work when Pappy did it, he thought – and hoped that it would. A few seconds later, Rabbit calmed down and nuzzled into Spine’s chest. He smiled and, just as he did with Jon, planted a gentle kiss on the top of Rabbit’s head.

“Don’t worry about that nightmare, Rabbit. It’s okay now. It can’t get you while I’m here,” he murmured gently.

Rabbit looked up at Spine, “P-p-promise?”

Spine curved his head to look Rabbit squarely in the eyes.

“I promise. I’ll never leave any of you. I’ll always be here to chase the nightmares away and keep you safe.”

Rabbit rested his head back down on Spine’s chest and sighed contentedly, knowing deep down in that blue core those words would be true.

“Spine?”

“Yeah, Rabbit?”

“I… I love you.”

Spine paused for a moment. He’d never heard Rabbit say that to him before. It was always “Spine, you’re such a dullard!” or “Lighten up, Spine, you’re starting to depress me!” but no. Not this time. And this warmed Spine to his core. He couldn’t help but crack a silly grin.

“Love you too, Rabbit.”

They drifted slowly into stasis in each other’s arms. One day, they’d all be able to do this. Hatchy would be out of that vault, Upgrade would sing again, they’d be a family once more. For now, Spine settled with the idea of being the big-brother and responsible paternal figure in their lives. He meant every word of that vow. He would never leave them. Ever. And nothing would change that in his mind.

He accepted he wasn’t a patch on Pappy, but he always hoped he’d be enough for them, that they’d need him as much as he needed them right now.

After all, they were all he had left of Pappy.

Just before he fell into stasis, he looked at Rabbit and Jon in their peaceful slumber, then to the window in the direction of the Walter cemetery.

“Pappy” he whispered, “Thank you. Thank you for building them. I promise I’ll take care of them. Always. For you. Good night, Pappy.”


-End-