kisaray (kisaray) wrote in cyborg_fiction,
kisaray
kisaray
cyborg_fiction

Oh dear, an entire month...

So, apparently it really has been four weeks since I posted. I'm sorry. The boys weren't being much help, but that's no excuse.

However, in repentence for their stubborness, they have graciously forked over an idea for how to get through the rest of this mess without pulling all my hair out. The less lead cyborgs are difficult, but should be easier now.

I've made this speech before, haven't I...>.<

Without more ado->



Albert shut the door behind him, trying his best to keep it silent. The hinges might not creak in this house, but the locks still clicked open and shut. Jet had gotten himself sick again and the German had been spending his spare time with the bedridden teen. Jet was suprisingly easy to restrict to his room. The teen slept late most mornings, but he didn't usually take orders without comment, and telling him to stay was about as productive as ordering a cat.

Whether it was that Jet was now sleeping sixteen hours a day or that his illness was worse than he made it look, the American wasn't putting up much of a fight this time. A small part of Albert thought maybe he was helping, since spending time with Jet meant the boy was so isolated, just restricted.

006 was bustling about the kitchen as usual. For an expidient cook, the Chinese chef spent a great deal of time fiddling with things, reorganizing, preparing, and generally making noise. He was currently belting what sounded like Chinese opera while laddling out a bowl of soup.

"Ah, 004. I was just going to run this back, but since you're here." Dropping in a spoon, 006 placed the dish in front of Albert. "It's a remedy from my home. Maybe it'll help Jet feel better, too. Dr. Gilmore thinks he may have figured out what 002 has."

"It's not the flu?"

006 sighed. "More than likely it is just that, but Dr. Gilmore likes to double check. Everything little thing that goes wrong, he thinks it has to do with our machine parts. I doubt very much that's the case, but..."

Albert nodded and picked up the bowl. "As long as Jet gets better, I suppose the doctor can run all the tests he wants."

"When 002 gets better, Dr. Gilmore's going to get an ear full for all the poking and prodding, especially if it's a normal cold."

The two grinned. It would be so like the teen to freak out over something like that. A timer sounded, dragging 006's attention back to his cooking. Albert slipped back down the hall to Jet's room. He didn't want to wake the kid, but soup usually worked best when it was still a little on the hot side. That, and if the dish was medicinal, it probably tasted horrible, and letting it cool would just make it that much worse.

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