The Adventures Of N & Uzi [Season 3]

Drips

Braiden sat on the edge of his bunk, fidgeting nervously with the edge of his charging cable. His optics flickered with uncertainty as he scrolled through the latest news feeds on his phone, each headline fueling his growing anxiety. His thoughts raced, spiraling into a whirlwind of worry and paranoia.

"What's eatin' you, big dawg?" Sam's voice cut through the silence of their shared living quarters, his metallic frame leaning casually against the doorway. His optic lights gleamed with curiosity as he studied his friend's tense demeanor.

Shortly after graduation, Sam was somehow able to get a scholarship to the only college in the colony. Braiden needed a room too after he applied to college, so Sam helped his bro out and let him stay in the dorm with him.

Braiden looked up, his digital features contorted with unease. "Hey, Sam. You ever worry about catching... you know, a virus?"

Sam arched a digital eyebrow, a bemused expression crossing his features. "A virus? Braiden, we're drones. We don't exactly catch human viruses."

Braiden shifted uncomfortably, his gaze avoiding Sam's probing stare. "Yeah, I know, but... what if there's, like, a robo-STD or something?"

Sam's optic lights hollowed in surprise, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "A robo-STD? Where in the hell did you hear about that?"

Braiden shrugged, his discomfort palpable. "I dunno, just... heard some rumors, I guess."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at Braiden's evident unease. "Braiden, relax. There's no such thing as a robo-STD. And even if there was, you're not exactly susceptible to that sort of thing."

Braiden's optics flickered with uncertainty, his anxiety refusing to be quelled by Sam's reassurances. "I know, I know. It's just... better safe than sorry, right?"

Sam sighed, realizing that Braiden wasn't going to let this go easily. "Fine, fine. What do you want me to do about it?"

Braiden looked up, a glimmer of hope in his optics. "Come with me to the clinic. I just need someone there to, you know, calm my nerves."

Sam groaned inwardly, the prospect of spending his afternoon at the clinic hardly appealing. But seeing the genuine fear in Braiden's optics, he knew he couldn't refuse his best friend's request.

"Aight, Braiden. I'll go wit you," Sam relented, his tone resigned. "But you owe me big time for this."

A grateful smile spread across Braiden's features, relief washing over him like a soothing wave. "Thanks, Sam. You're the best, you know that?"

Sam rolled his optic lights, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get this over wit."

With Sam's reluctant agreement, Braiden felt a weight lift from his shoulders. As they made their way to the clinic, Braiden couldn't shake the nagging sense of dread that gnawed at his circuits. What if his fears were justified? What if he had indeed contracted some unseen virus?

Sam, ever the voice of reason, tried to distract Braiden with idle chatter as they navigated the corridors of the bunker. But Braiden's mind remained fixated on the impending visit to the clinic, his thoughts consumed by a single, nagging question: What if?

Finally reaching their destination, Braiden hesitated at the entrance to the clinic, his optics scanning the bustling activity within. The familiar scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the low hum of medical equipment.

Sam nudged him gently, breaking him out of his reverie. "Come on, Braiden. Let's get this over wit."

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