Murder Drones Stories/Oneshots

♡Part 7: Watering Wilting Flowers (Vizzy)

Written 12/4/23-12/19/23
V's POV

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I fidgeted with my broken glasses, waiting. The medical center is too bright, too loud, and too busy for such a small population of Worker Drones.

An older looking nurse hobbles over. "I just got the transfer of your request from the patient's nurse," she creaks, "amd she's accepting visitors. Room A-22." Then she limps away with no further explanation.

What I got from all that: "Lizzy is alive. Fond her. Room A-22. Go to her."

I grab my flowers and try not to sprint to her. I settle on a brusque walking pace, shoving my glasses back into my pockets and smoothing out my hair.

I stop in the doorway and double check the room number. It's the right one. I take a deep breath. My heart is pounding in my chest. I haven't seen Lizzy since...when she called me at her Dad's. It's been days. I was honestly afraid I was going to lose her.

I'm still afraid.

I shake my head and knock, hoping the fear will dissipate. The door clicks open, so I step in.

The room is small and claustrophobic.  Machinery beeps and hums all over. Lizzy's broken body is hooked up to an oil-bag in the hospital bed.

"I-I brought you flowers," I stammer. I'm at a loss. She's in so much pain right now.

I put the flowers on her bedside table. They're pink and yellow flowers from the botanical gardens, a newer Worker Drone project.

"Thank you," Lizzy rasps. She coughs and I hear her heart (core?) monitor beep louder and faster.

"I've almost gotten our apartment ready too, all I need to do is a bit more paperwork and then we can finally live together and-" Lizzy cuts off my rambling.

"I'm dying, V," she dead-pans.

The world feels like it's falling away. I've been through times like this before, but never this bad. The light above flicker a sickly yellow. My breathing is too fast and all too slow.

I blink. "What? No you aren't." I shake my head, the panic setting in. "No, you can't."

Lizzy smiles at me sadly, as if I'm in more pain than she is. "The doctors say I'm probably not going to make it. My internal workings are too badly damaged and I have a lot of internal oil-leaks. They just don't have the supplies to fix me."

My vision is swimming. I clutch the sides of my head, running my fingers through my hair. My head hurts. I want to cry, scream, throw up. I want release.

I get tears.

"No, no, no, no," I laugh hysterically. "No."

I frantically wipe my tears, but more fall anyways. "I can do it. I'll get whatever parts they need to fix you."

Lizzy looks resigned to her fate. Her core monitor beeps pathetically. She won't look me in the eyes. The a tear rolls down her cheek and a silent sob racks her body.

Robo-god, I hate seeing her like this. I feel so fragile, like glass so worn a feather falling on its surface would break it into millions of sharp shards. Or maybe I feel like I'm already all those sharp shards, and I'm bleeding dry from all the cuts I've sustained.

"I'll fix this, Lizzy," I say. She stares ahead with a blank look.

I turn to leave and she says my name in a voice filled with panic. "V, I need to tell you what I was going to say before."

My tail drags. "Save it, Lizzy. You'll make it through this."

She shakes her head with conviction. "V, I-"