A Steam Powered Giraffe, the Steam Man Band fanfiction
*so many people ship Michael Reed and The Jon, yet i haven't found many fanfics about them, so I've decided to change that*
After two years of playing at San Diego Zoo, Sam Luke and Michael Reed...
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(TJ's POV) I knew something was wrong the second Bunny and David both came into the library with sollemn expressions on their faces. At first I thought I'd just had too much ice cream and pepsi within two hours of eachother, and I was about to be cleaned out - they hate doing it because I can never keep still; it TICKLES! -but something tells me it's something else. Possibly the fact that they sit me down. Then David starts to talk. About ten minutes into their lecture, Bunny gets interrupted by clanging and grinding of metal and hydrolics desperately trying to keep The Spine and Rabbit upright, but to no avail as they come crashing through the closed doors of the library. They'd obviously worked out what the twins were going to say next, due to their evesdropping. After seeing my apperent blank expression they sent what they thought over the wifi to me. "WHAT?!" I thought aloud. Possibly too loudly. I had to leave? The last ten minutes went swimming through my mind, finally starting to add up... "Lack of concentration" ... "could contribute more to songs" ... "fans will always love you and keep you in their hearts no matter what" ... "you'll never be completely forgotten about" ... "maybe stay with Upgrade for a while?" ... "water's a lot cheaper" ... Oh my fluffy biscuits, they're getting rid of me. I suppose I've brought it on myself, and judging by the Bennetts' expressions, they've thought long and hard about it, and have discussed it with Peter and several Walter Workers.
At that point Rabbit's steam pressure gage decides to malfunction, whether intentional or not I'm not quite sure but it means Mr David, Miss Bunny and The Spine drag the copper clockwork 'bot to the workshop for yet more repairs, with many protests on Rabbit's part. So there I am, left to sit in the library, staring and the hundreds of books that line the walls, trying to figure out what happened.
I must have been there a while because by the time Spine came back in, it was dark outside. He came to sit next to me, and wordlessly he put his arm around my shoulders, gently pulling me closer. If there's one thing my big brother's good at, its hugs, though he'll never admit it. It's at that point I feel a cool drop slowly descending my increasingly warm cheekplate. What? What's this... this... leaking affecting my eye? I wipe it away, to find it's black and gooey. Oil? Dripping... does that mean it's a cry? I'm crying? Well I suppose if the emotion chips allow love and hate, why not crying? Spine seems to notice if too. He wipes away a second one and holds me closer to him, so my head rests on his chest, and puts one hand on my head, his fingers dissapearing in my curls, his other holding my frame close to his, securing me, protecting me, just like he used to when the thunder storms would scare me, or I'd come bolting into his room, scared witless after a nightmare. It seemed so comforting... until I remembered why we were curled up next to eachother. In a week's time, I will be... god knows where. Another drop of oil falls. Then another. And another. And another...
(TS's POV)
After about half an hour of 'crying', Jon's cries finally slow to gentle sobs, to a soft whimper, as he falls asleep, cradled in my arms, dirty black oils streaks staining his golden brass face and there's a pool of oil on the couch, that Peter will want to murder us over. Well guess what, Peter A. Walter. I will want to murder you over what you've done to my baby brother. I look down at the little brass 'bot curled up in my lap, somehow managing to look somewhat peaceful but with pain etched into his face plates. I carefully carry him to his room, and lay him on his bed and tuck him in. Oh how I will miss me and Rabbit tucking him in every night. I close the door as quietly as possible as I leave, and turn around to find David stood behind me, his height matching my own. "What?" I spit bitterly at him. "I wanted to know if he was alright." He said, unfased by my quiet anger. I walk down the corridor and down two flights of stairs, and he follows so that we are away from anyone who's sleeping, in case voices were raised. "No. He's not alright. I've spent the past hour trying to get him to sleep after an outburst of tears. He was crying for god's sake! CRYING!" "Spine, cool down..." "Cool down? COOL DOWN?! Between you, Bunny and Peter, you managed to make The Jon, the happiest automaton known to exist, so upset he cried. The one thing we all vowed we would never, EVER do since we had the emotion chips" I seethed. I put a small black and green card with gold blobs harshly in his hand. "That's how bad it got." I watched as he realised it was Jon's. "Spine, I can explain. You know perfectly well that what was done had to be done..." "Tearing him away from his friends had to be done? Sending him away from his family had to be done? From his best memories? From everything as he knows it? From the one person he loves?" I practically shout. Wait, what? WHAT did i just say? Crap. Crappety crap, iced with craps, with extra crap sprinkles on top. I just gotta hope he didn't catch that last bit... "What??" I stare at him. "Spine? What did you just say? The Jon's in love?" Umm... "What? No, I meant have you seen him with GG? I've never seen friends quite like them. I meant love as in the same way I love Steve, Sam and Michael. As friends, as family." Did that convince him? Have I somehow managed to save my silver, metal hyde? "Look, Spine, I'm sorry, okay? We'll talk more in the morning, I'm about to fall asleep right here. Goodnight." And with that, he leaves. Well that was weird.
