You'll Stay In Our Hearts (Spg robot OCs X Reader)

Hold Me (Sprocket and Dex X abused!child!reader)

*A/N: The song "Hold Me" was written by Steam Powered Giraffe, and belongs to their rightful creators*

Time was ticking.
Time was running out.
You had to get home very soon; you couldn't risk being late again, now. Not after last time.

Last time had been, by far, the worst time, and it still made you wince as you remembered what your scumbags of parents did to you. So much so that your hoarse voice was still somewhat recovering, and the marks of the adults' deeds peppered your body in painful-looking purple and brown blotches.
Tearstains seemed to mark your face almost permanently, the sting of the belt buckle or your mother's hag-like talons accenting the bruises with ugly welts and scabs that never seemed to heal.

With a gulp of the warm summer air, you just hoped that they wouldn't be too mad; if they weren't, at least you would be able to sleep inside tonight. Who knows? maybe even get a meal of some description, rather than just having to rely on your rations from school lunches or small titbits raided from the fridge or pantry.
Your torn (F/C) jacket was shrouding your shoulders as you hoisted a backpack on your back, in addition to a paper shopping bag in your arms; the weight of it made you struggle to carry it in one position, forcing you to slow down a little to adjust your hold, though walking wasn't too easy in itself in your shoes that were coming apart at the literal seams.
You could smell the disgusting tobacco and cheap booze inside, and feel the cold wetness seeping through the bottom of the bag.

Keep going, keep going, you couldn't stop, no matter what.
Not even to hear....music?

You turned your head to see two figures dressed in sharp, dark clothing playing on the side of the road for passers-by coming to and from the town square.
One was holding a ukulele and standing, the other sitting on some kind of drum-box, pedestrians dropping coins and bills in the case at the feet of the duo.
By the looks of them, they seemed to be teenagers, no older than about 17 or 18.
The songs they were playing were lively and upbeat, while others were gentle and soft, drawing a few people closer to listen, even if it was just for a few seconds before the person went about their business.

As you turned your head to look at them, you didn't watch where you were going, ending up walking into a lamp-post and falling to the ground, the noisy thunks and clatters of things breaking and scattering all over the pavement made the two buskers stop mid-song and turn their gaze towards your crumpled form on the ground.
Like the storm to a thistle, the two gathered up their pay and sprinted over to you, a few hisses of steam coming from the female.

Wait, why was there steam coming from her?
Were you hallucinating? did you get some kind of concussion? You weren't sure.
The only things you were sure about is that your head and nose hurt, and oh, boy, you were going to have a hard time explaining this one to your parents...

The two stopped before you and knelt down to your level, their blue eyes seeming to glow slightly despite the silver lamplight.
Startled, all you could do was gaze at them, as they exchanged looks and then turned their attention back to you.
"Kid? Kid, can you hear us? are you ok?" came the voice of the boy. It was a rough, boyish-sounding Boston accent, though the tone and volume he displayed was that of concern and worry.
"Are you alright, sweetheart? Oh gosh, your nose is bleeding, hold on" the girl, who had a soft and gentle Cockney accent, reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief that was baby blue in colour with black and white patterns.

You felt a cool hand hold the back of your head, as the handkerchief was pressed carefully to your nose to catch any blood, the girl seeming to be tilting your head back slightly.
The male was trying to signal for help, though the amount of pedestrians were sparse at this point. The remaining few just looked on in pity and concern before hurrying away.
So much for kindness in the outside world, eh?

Letting out a sniffle, you gently pushed yourself into a sitting position, the girl gently mopping the blood from your nose and lip, the boy standing guard.
Getting a better look, you could see....the two were robots! Living, talking, moving robots!
Your eyes then switched from the robots to the mess of broken bottles and food and drink strewn on the asphalt and concrete.
Tears pricking your eyes, you looked back up at the worried robots, the girl tucking the handkerchief away to clean later.
It wasn't long before you started sobbing. Ugly, loud sobs that made your eyes screw shut.