Copy, (An Astro Boy Story)

Chapter 8: A Therapy of Sorts

Everything was dark, black. There was nothing. He was nothing. There were no thoughts, no movement.

He was dead.

But then, slowly, gradually, light began to filter into his dark, dark world. He felt his eyes open, saw his vision pixilate as his eyes glowed blue, blurring and distorting the world around him.

It took a minute.

But then his eyes adjusted, and the world came rushing back to him.

Astro gasped, breathing heavily as he sat upright with a jolt, eyes wide and chest heaving. What happened? Where was he? This wasn't his bed. Why wasn't he home? Why wasn't he—

In a rush, all the memories suddenly came flooding back to him. His father planning to shut him down, his depression, him falling, him pulling out the Core—

Dead. He should be dead.

So why wasn't he?

Astro looked around him, founding himself slightly disoriented. Things were still hard to focus on and his vision pixilated now and then, but he could see enough to notice that he was naked.

He stared down at his red boots and black Speedo in surprise, he hadn't remembered getting undressed, but this realization took a back seat when he saw his chest.

His chest hatch was open, revealing the Blue Core within, spinning majestically inside of him.

His breathing became slightly shallow as he stared at it. He knew he hadn't put it back in. He had been dead. He was sure of it. Someone else had put it back in for him, someone had found him, brought him to this place—

Where was he?

Starting to panic now, Astro closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He took a couple big breaths before reopening them, closing his chest hatch and silencing the blue glare of the Core.

Only then did he look around him carefully for the first time.

And felt his whole body turn to ice.

He knew this place. He'd been here before. He knew that broken robot by the door. He'd broken it. He knew this table, he seen a robot being worked on at this table. He'd seen those broken windows before, he'd seen all those tools before, all those need-of-repair-robots before—

With a wave of horror, Astro realized exactly where he was.

Hamegg's.

His mind began to whirl, thoughts running in a jumbled pattern as he tried to figure out what to do. Should he make a break for it? The door was right there. Maybe he could get through it before—

He froze as the door slowly opened.

And then there he was, walking through the door in the same ugly vest he had worn the day Astro had first met him.

Hamegg.

The fat man smiled at him, eyes glinting as his big frame filled the doorway, blocking it. "Ah, Astro, you're awake," he said, his voice exactly as Astro remembered it. Cheerful and bubbly. Too bubbly. "Good, good, you turned on faster than I thought you would. I only just stepped out a moment ago."

He grinned and took a step closer to Astro, eyes wide with curiosity. "Fantastic," he murmured to himself, looking Astro's frame over almost hungrily.

Astro backed away from him slowly, pressing his back up against the wall. "What do you want with me?" he asked, voice wavering slightly as he fixed Hamegg with a wary gaze.