Hurt: A Symbiote Droid Tale

Chapter 4

A/N: Pharma's droid name is Feather. 

Roller flexed his servo. It had been a few deca cycles since he had awoken in Amica's berthroom. Since then Feather had replaced some of his parts. Although varieties of pain coursed through his frame, especially when he moved, it had become duller. And a lot more manageable.

He had done some physical therapy sessions to get his joints working again. Just a few joors a cycle and Roller found it easier to move. He was fascinated by the moving of his digits.

The task had never interested him before. But then it had been particularly easy. When he awoke it had almost been impossible to move his elbow joint, let alone individual digits. The movements were still a little jerky, but Roller was now able to flex each individual joint.

He was currently on Amica's berthroom's floor. A jar of medical-grade solvent by his side. Roller was supposed to work a salve in between his joints. Afterward he'd either dunk his limb into the jar or he used a brush to paint the solvent thoroughly into his joints to let it dissolve the salve and rust.

For the last two cycles he had been doing this. Although his plating was still scarred, Roller found his movements becoming smoother and less painful. Of course, everything still ached and pained. This frame would always feel like that. But it was better than what he had been operating when he last recycled.

Although Amica mostly kept Roller in his habsuite, Roller knew his silver guardian worried. He heard a rumor of a specialized medic coming. Maybe it was Neutral! But anytime he tried to speak with Amica, the bigger mech tried to distract him.

So maybe Roller misheard, or the search for Neutral wasn't going well. The only mech from Roller's past that Roller had been able to find was Amica. Host was alive, but out of reach of Roller.

Their sparkbond was there but... faint. Worn from disuse. Host was out of reach. Amica didn't seem to know where he was. He got tense when Roller ever asked about Host. Maybe something happened between them. Or maybe Host...

No, the sparkbond was still there. Host was alive... Roller thought so anyway.

Roller slathered more salve on his servo. It felt weird, almost... organic. The squishy sounds that came when Roller flexed his digits definitely sounded like fleshy parts. Bringing the cube of solvent closer, he dunked his servo into the murky white-blue. The liquid sizzled slightly. It tingled against Roller's sensors. The droid couldn't tell if the sensation was welcomed or not.

The sound of the door sliding open made Roller whip around at the person entering. The jerky movement made his neck cables twinged. It took everything inside him not to emote it aloud. Amica had been coddling him since Roller was put into his care after Feather was done. It was nice, but Roller was mature! He could take care of himself!

"Roller," Amica greeted, flaring out his EM field. Roller let it mesh with his own as he accepted the welcome. "I hope all is well."

"Never. Bet-ter." Roller said, focusing hard on getting his vocalizer to say the words. Feather wasn't able to install a new one, but he had gotten the old one to work well enough without sending pain signals to Roller's processors.

"That is good to hear." Amica nodded, shuffling around Roller as he went around the room. Roller watched as he took up a set of datapads (the only personal effects in the room) and started to subspace them. Roller tilted his head when Amica started to fidget with the berth meshes.

"Problem?" Roller quiered. He felt pride at being able to say it without static.

Amica turned around, looking Roller over. Roller felt his plating flare when he felt light scanners go over him.

"No." Amica said abruptly, he knelt down beside Roller. "Is everything alright with you?"

"Yes." Roller said, narrowing his optics. "Amica. Seems. Unwell."

"Oh," Amica said. And this was turning out to be a painful conversation. Roller vaguely remembered watching with Host as Amica would give speeches in his last (well, not last) recycled life. Amica had seemed good at talking, but anytime he talked to Roller now it was just awkward.

"I apologize, Roller." Amica abruptly said, drawing Roller's attention back to his safe unit. "I am merely... distracted." Amica paused again, his optics flickering around.

"You see, Roller," Amica started again. "Where we are right now... it isn't my home." Roller tilted his helm at that comment. "I was merely visiting this base. It was a miracle from Primus that I was here when you showed up."

Maybe not Primus. Roller thought, remembering his glitchy tracking unit. I had just followed your trail. I would have been able to find you wherever you were before, silly. Roller thought with amusement.

Although, he amended rather glumly, I couldn't find Host. Maybe it was Primus.

"... so we will be going to Darkmont." Amica seemed to finish. Roller shutter his optics at his current guardian. He hadn't gotten any of that. Maybe these conversations were so awkward because half the time Roller didn't listen.

Amica seemed to be waiting for Roller to say something. Since Roller wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do he gave Amica a digitus primus manus up.

"You are willing?" Amica seemed surprised. Roller didn't know what that meant, but he gave an affirmative helm nod.

"I'll make it up to." Amica declared.

What did that mean?

"It is really the only way." Amica assured.

Okay?

Roller stared at Amica's servos as they circled around his middle. Quickly, Roller scrambled to pick up the mesh rag and clean off his fizzling servo.

"... troublesome mecha."

Wait, you were talking again? Roller looked up at Amica, still not sure what was going on. Then he turned around when he felt a sensation on his ped. His optic feed flared wide when he saw his ped disappear into Amica's subspace pocket.

No! I didn't agree to this!... Did I?! Roller frantically scrambled against the silver claws holding him, but it was too late. He tumbled back into Amica's subspace.