Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are moments of vague light and sound, but he is far from the surface.

Sinking, sinking—

and then, after what feels like an eternity—

Jun comes to slowly to the steady, rhythmic sound of beeping.

He groans, the noise rough and unfamiliar in his own ears, and carefully peels his eyes open — only to immediately squint and hiss as harsh light stabs straight through his skull. His eyelids flutter shut again on instinct.

For a few seconds, he does nothing but breathe, chest rising and falling as the fog in his head slowly thins. His body feels heavy. Wrong. Like it doesn’t quite belong to him.

When the light finally stops feeling like he’s staring directly into the sun from ten meters away, he opens his eyes again and lets them wander.

White.

White walls, white ceiling, white curtains. Everything looks painfully clean, barren and sterile.

Jun considers sitting up to get a better look around, but the moment he tenses even slightly, pain explodes through his side like a lightning bolt. He sucks in a sharp breath and immediately abandons that idea.

“Bad idea,” he mutters, then winces again as his throat burns.

With a tired sigh, he settles back into the mattress, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room in search of something —anything— interesting. He finds nothing.

“Well, this is no fun,” he grouches, voice hoarse and scratchy.

He pauses, frowning faintly. Why does it hurt so much just to talk?

He hopes it’s not from screaming his lungs out.

Only much later will the memory resurface — crying, sobbing, begging for help between gasping breaths — but for now, the thought slips away, leaving him staring blankly at the wall for a long, quiet moment.

Time passes strangely after that.

A moment.

Then another.

Eventually — after what Jun assumes must be hours of waiting (it is, in reality, only twenty minutes) — something changes.

The handle across the room jiggles.

Jun startles, instantly regretting it as pain flares again, and turns his head just in time to see the door open.

A woman dressed in shrubs steps inside. Her blonde hair is pulled into a loose bun, a clipboard tucked under one arm. Her eyes flick from the paper up to him behind square glasses.

She blinks.

“Oh! Oh— you’re awake!” she gasps, adjusting her glasses as relief spreads across her face.

She closes the door behind her and approaches, her steps light, a gentle smile settling into place.

“Jun Grant, yes?”

Jun stares at her for a second, brain sluggish, then nods.

“Would you like anything?” she asks, head tilting slightly, curious and kind.

“Oh, uhm… water, please,” he croaks.

She nods immediately and slips through the small adjoining door — probably the bathroom. Jun hears glass clink, water running, then silence. Moments later she returns, glass in hand.

She stops beside the bed, her smile faltering as she looks him over more closely.

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“Oh. Yeah. It hurts when I try,” he admits.

She nods, “Alright.”

She sets the glass down, steps closer, and carefully helps him sit up, bracing him and arranging the pillow behind his back. It takes a bit of shuffling, but he’s upright soon enough, mercifully without too much pain.

“Thank you,” Jun mumbles, taking the glass and gulping down the water greedily. The coolness soothes his aching throat almost immediately.

When he’s done, she takes the glass back and sets it down with a soft clink. Then she looks at him — really looks at him — and her expression grows serious.

“I’m afraid we need to address your injuries now. Is that okay?”

Jun blinks, caught off guard, then nods.

“Yes, so,” she continues gently, “I’m sure you’ve noticed we have you connected to quite a few devices.”

Jun glances at the beeping monitor to his left, then the IV bag hanging on the right, and nods again.

“We’re monitoring your condition and giving you fluids. You also received a blood transfusion while you were still asleep.”

“Do— have my parents come to visit?” he asks quickly, interrupting her.

She blinks, then gives him a soft, sad smile, “Yes. They arrived a few hours after your surgery—”

“Surgery?!” Jun lurches forward, eyes wide, immediately regretting the movement.

“Yes,” she says firmly but kindly, “As I was saying, they were informed of everything, including the treatment plan.”

Jun slumps back against the pillow, “Okay… that’s good. But why’d they leave?”

She studies him for a moment, “Jun, what day do you think it is?”

“Thursday,” he answers without hesitation, “I left school, got hurt, and ended up here. A few hours passed. My parents should’ve stayed longer.”

“Oh, buddy,” she murmurs, “Your parents stayed until closing.”

His eyes widen.

“Today is Friday,” she continues gently, “It’s a little past noon.”

For a long moment, Jun can only stare.

“W— what?” he whispers, “I’ve been asleep that long?”

“Yes,” the nurse confirms, “Almost a full day.”

The words sink in slowly, heavily.

Jun looks down at himself, at the blankets tucked around his legs, the faint outline of bandages beneath his hospital gown. His hands curl slightly in the sheets.

“I… almost died, didn’t I?” he asks quietly.

The nurse hesitates just long enough to be noticeable.

“You were very lucky,” she says at last, “But you’re here now. And you’re stable.”

That doesn’t feel as comforting as it probably should.

Before Jun can respond, there’s a knock at the door.

“Oh— perfect timing,” the nurse says, turning, “I’ll be right back, okay? Try to rest.”

She steps out, leaving Jun alone again with the beeping machines and the weight of everything crashing down on him all at once.

He stares at the wall, heart pounding.

Surgery.

A whole day gone.

His parents crying somewhere without him awake to see it.

And then—

A familiar chime.

Jun startles, eyes snapping to his wrist.

The Metal Breath flickers to life, projecting a tiny hologram that jitters with barely contained energy.

“Jun!”

Shadow X’s face fills the projection, optics wide.

“You’re awake! You’re really awake!”

Before Jun can even respond, the image shifts, Blue Cop appears instead, optics bright with relief.

“Jun,” Blue Cop says, voice thick, “You scared us half to death.”

Jun’s lip wobbles.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tears welling despite himself, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey. No,” Blue Cop says immediately, “None of that. You don’t apologize for getting hurt.”

More faces appear.

“You did good, kid,” Mega Trucker rumbles, “We're very glad.”

Jun swipes at his eyes with the heel of his hand, trying and failing not to cry.

“…Are you guys here?” he asks quietly.

There’s a pause.

Then Blue Cop smiles with his eyes — soft, unmistakable.

“We’re right outside,” he says, “And we’re not going anywhere.”

Time blurs after that.

The next few days pass in a haze of nurses checking vitals, doctors explaining things Jun only half-processes, and his parents never straying far from his bedside. The pain ebbs and flows, dulled by medication and rest, and little by little, the tight, suffocating fear in his chest loosens its grip.

Eventually, the beeping machines are silenced one by one.

Eventually, the IV is removed.

Eventually, a doctor smiles and says the words Jun has been waiting to hear.

He’s cleared to go home.

Jun walks slowly — carefully — his parents flanking him on either side as they guide him through the hospital doors. The air outside feels different — cooler, fresher, real. He squints a little in the sunlight, adjusting.

The parking lot stretches out before them.

Jun’s gaze flickers, casual at first — then softens.

Parked along the edges, spaced just far enough apart to look normal to anyone who doesn’t know better, are familiar shapes. A truck here. An ambulance there. A very conspicuous helicopter resting low and still.

Jun’s lips twitch upward into a tiny, tired smile as they pass.

He doesn’t wave. Doesn’t speak.

But he hears the way engines idle just a second longer. The way one vehicle subtly shifts position, another pulls out behind them as they leave the lot.

He also notices —quietly, fondly— how they follow just far enough to be seen… and then, one by one, peel away before his parents could ever question it.

By the time they reach home, Jun is exhausted in a way that sinks straight into his bones.

They’re barely inside the house when there’s a knock at the door.

His parents barely have time to react before it swings open.

“Jun!”

Uncle Edo bursts inside like a force of nature. The moment his eyes land on Jun, his face crumples.

“Oh— oh, kid—!”

He crosses the room in three strides and scoops Jun up into a crushing hug, lifting him clean off the floor as he sobs openly, shoulders shaking.

“I was so worried,” Edo cries, voice breaking, “You scared the scrap outta me, you hear? I didn’t know— when they told me—”

Jun laughs weakly despite himself, arms awkwardly wrapping around Edo’s shoulders, “I’m okay,” he says softly, “I’m here.”

Edo clings to him for another moment before finally setting him down, scrubbing furiously at his face with his sleeve and trying —and failing— to regain composure.

Before leaving, Edo crouches a little to meet Jun’s eyes, his expression warm and relieved.

“Drop by my place when you’re feeling better,” he says with a smile, “Your friends have missed you dearly.”

Jun nods, energy sparking through him despite his exhaustion, “Ok!”

Not long after, his parents usher him upstairs, voices gentle but firm. They help him change, guide him into bed and smooth the blankets around his shoulders.

“You can go tomorrow,” his mom says quietly, brushing his hair back, “If you’re feeling better.”

Jun nods obediently, too tired to argue.

They linger a moment longer, then leave him alone in the dim room.

Jun waits.

Counts their footsteps fading.

Then he lifts his wrist slightly.

“Guys,” he stage-whispers, “I’m gonna come over to Edo’s tomorrow. Promise!”

The Metal Breath flickers to life.

“Please make sure you are healthy first,” Blue Cop says, appearing immediately.

Jun rolls his eyes.

“I agree with Blue Cop,” Mega Ambler replaces him.

Shadow X pops in last, optics flipping into bright upward arrows, “Hope you feel better soon!”

“Alright, guys,” Jun yawns, stretching carefully beneath the blankets, “Good night!”

A chorus answers him — "Good night"s, "Sleep well"s — overlapping warmth filling the quiet room.

The projection fades.

Jun settles back, eyelids heavy.

Just as he starts to drift—

“We missed you, buddy.”

Blue Cop’s voice is soft, lingering.

Jun smiles.

And this time, when sleep takes him, it’s gentle.

The next morning, Jun wakes up sore.

Not hurting, exactly — just achy in that deep, lingering way that reminds him his body went through something it really didn’t appreciate. His side twinges when he stretches, and he hisses softly through his teeth, careful not to push it.

It doesn’t matter.

He’s awake, he’s home, and he has somewhere to be.

Jun is out of bed and downstairs in record time. He wolfs down his breakfast, barely tasting it, nodding enthusiastically at every concerned question his parents throw his way.

“I’m feeling better,” he insists between bites, “Really. See? Totally fine.”

They don’t look convinced, but after a long look and a mutual glance, his mom sighs and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Be careful,” she says firmly.

“I will,” Jun promises, hugging back just as tightly, “I swear.”

With one last wave, he steps outside.

Cool morning air hits his face and then he sees it.

A giant grin splits across Jun’s face as his gaze locks onto the familiar shape parked in front of the neighbor’s house.

Blue Cop.

Without thinking, Jun breaks into a run.

He ignores the sting in his side, ignores the sharp reminder that he probably shouldn’t be doing this, and barrels across the sidewalk anyway. The door pops open just in time and he hops inside, breathless and laughing.

“Please don’t run while you’re still healing,” Blue Cop sighs, vents releasing a soft gust of air that ruffles Jun’s hair, “You could have tripped and gotten hurt!”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Jun says, patting the dashboard as the engine hums to life, “You sound like my mom — all worried and stuff.”

“Still,” the bot replies, voice oddly flustered, “It is my responsibility to ensure your safety.”

Jun snickers, settling back into the seat and buckling in properly this time.

“Relax,” he says cheerfully, “I’m okay. See? Still in one piece.”

Blue Cop doesn’t answer right away. The car eases onto the road, smooth and careful, like he’s hyper-aware of every bump and turn.

“…Just try not to scare us like that again,” Blue Cop finally adds, quieter than before.

Jun’s grin softens.

“I’ll try,” he says sincerely.

The city rolls past outside the windows, sunlight glinting off metal and glass, and for the first time since everything went wrong, Jun feels something close to normal again.

.

The moment Blue Cop pulls into Edo’s workshop and the engine winds down, the space seems to move. A shadow drops from above, metal clanging softly—

Shadow X lands directly in front of the hood with a dramatic thud, optics bright and wide.

Before Jun can even laugh, movement blurs at the edges of his vision. Mega Trucker barrels in from the left, Phoenix Fire from the right, their footsteps heavy and hurried. Mega Ambler hangs just off to the side, already watching, visor faintly glowing.

The door pops open and Jun hops out—

—and is immediately bombarded.

“Jun! Are you okay?”

“Hey! You really came!”

“Good to see you, bud!”

Voices overlap, hands hover uselessly, optics flicker and scan. Jun just grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet despite the dull ache in his side, nodding enthusiastically as questions are thrown at him from every angle.

“Yeah! I’m fine —really— hi— Shadow, you scared me—”

A white shape pushes through the crowd.

Jun barely has time to register it before a large hand scoops him clean off the floor.

“Hey!” he squawks, instinctively grabbing onto a finger, “Watch it!”

Behind him, Blue Cop lets out a distinctly wounded noise, optics flashing as he trails after Mega Ambler in a hurry. The ambulance sets Jun down on a sturdy metal table with careful precision.

“Please be careful with him!” Blue Cop blurts, hovering anxiously over Ambler’s shoulder.

“It is just a checkup,” Mega Ambler replies calmly, visor sweeping over Jun as scanners hum to life.

The workshop goes quiet.

Cardbots crowd in close, forming a loose ring around the table. There’s a nervous energy in the air — too many optics trained on one small human, too many systems waiting for bad news.

The scan finishes.

Mega Ambler’s shoulders slump.

“You are close to healthy,” he says, nodding once, as if confirming it for himself.

The reaction is immediate.

Shadow X throws his arms up with a cheer, nearly clipping a light fixture. Mega Trucker whoops loud enough to rattle tools on the walls. Phoenix Fire lets out a relieved laugh, shoulders finally easing.

Blue Cop doesn’t wait another second.

The instant Ambler steps aside, Blue scoops Jun up, holding him close and lifting him until they’re nearly face to face.

“You okay?” he asks, voice tight, “And please be honest.”

“Jeez, calm down,” Jun says, rolling his eyes half-heartedly as he pats Blue Cop’s plating, “I’m not dying.”

Mega Ambler’s voice drifts in from the side, far too casual.

“According to the medical files,” he says, “you almost did die.”

The room freezes.

Shadow X and Blue Cop both make sounds that can only be described as shrieking.

“You WHAT?” Blue Cop’s optics shrink to pinpricks as he clutches Jun to his chest, begining to mutter up a storm of: “No— no, never again, never, no—”

“Deus Machina!” Shadow X cries from beside them—

—and then Jun is abruptly stolen from Blue Cop’s arms, the cop yelping and grasping at nothing but air.

Shadow X smushes his faceplate against Jun’s face, optic display glitching with pixelated tears.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” he cries, pulling Jun tight and curling protectively around him like a shield, “Why would you hide that?!”

Jun blinks, trapped between metal arms and far too much concern. He tries to shove Shadow X away, fails, and eventually just sighs, slumping a little.

“This,” he mutters under his breath, “is why.”

The chaos doesn’t stop all at once.

It stutters.

Shadow X is still wrapped around Jun, muttering apologies and half-coherent scolding under his breath. Blue Cop hovers inches away, pacing in tight, anxious loops, optics flicking from Jun to every nearby surface as if danger might reappear out of thin air. Mega Trucker and Phoenix Fire stand frozen, unsure whether to intervene or give space, while Mega Ambler watches silently from the edge of the group.

Eventually, Shadow X loosens his grip.

Just a little.

“Oh,” he says, optics flickering as if he’s only now realizing how tightly he’s holding on, “Uh. Sorry. I think I— yeah. Maybe a bit too much...”

Jun slides down onto his feet again with a small oof, adjusting his jacket and rubbing at his side, “You think?”

Shadow X laughs weakly and takes a step back, hands raised in surrender, “Okay. Okay. Not hovering. Totally not hovering.”

He hovers.

Blue Cop clears his throat — then does it again.

“I will… be over here,” he announces, stepping back approximately two meters. He stops. Steps forward one meter. Stops again, “This distance seems… acceptable.”

Mega Trucker snorts.

Jun looks around at all of them — really looks this time. The tight shoulders, the optics that haven’t quite dimmed, the way every single bot is angled toward him even while pretending not to stare.

“…You guys are being weird,” Jun says fondly.

That earns him a few embarrassed noises.

Mega Ambler finally steps in, placing himself solidly between Jun and the rest of the group — not blocking, just grounding, “He is cleared for light activity,” he says evenly, “Excessive hovering is not medically necessary.”

Shadow X gasps, “That sounds dumb.”

“It is not,” Ambler replies.

There’s a pause.

Then, almost on cue, everyone tries to act normal at the same time.

Mega Trucker turns a full ninety degrees and pretends to inspect a wall. Phoenix Fire starts talking about a nonexistent engine issue. Shadow X drifts upward and perches on a beam, legs swinging as he very pointedly looks anywhere but at Jun.

Blue Cop lingers the longest.

“You’re… sure you’re okay?” he asks quietly.

Jun steps closer and taps the plating lightly, “Yeah. Promise.”

Blue Cop’s vents release a slow, relieved sigh, “Okay,” he says, “Good.”

The workshop settles into a comfortable hum. Tools whir, engines idle, and the tension finally bleeds out of the air.

Jun sits on the edge of the table, legs swinging gently, surrounded by bots who are definitely not watching him every second.

He smiles.

For the first time since waking up in that sterile white room, it really does feel like things are going to be okay.