Glitches

Prologue

The hissing sound came to a stop as Thomas finished welding his friend's arm back in place. He proudly looked down at his work, the metal of the arm still glowing a hot red from the heat of the welder in his hand. His friend suddenly rolled his shoulders slightly, a creaking sound of metal grinding against metal coming from his body as he did.

"You have to keep still until the metal has cooled down, Riley," Thomas grumbled, rubbing his dirty face. He made a mental note to wash it before he went down to the grocery store for supplies.

Oh, how he hated shopping.

"I know, I know," the young man in the chair sighed, "but it's boring sitting here, while you handle my body parts."

"Well if it's so boring, then you should try to be more careful, my friend."

"Hey, it's not my fault! That dog came out of nowhere!"

Thomas fought to hold back a laugher, looking at his friend, raised brow.

"A dog did this to you?" he asked in a chuckle. Riley always had a habit of getting into trouble, which almost leaded to him getting ripped parts of his body off, or getting seriously injured, every time. But Thomas couldn't blame him. He had had the same issue when he was younger. Except that if his arm suddenly got ripped off his body it couldn't just be welded back in place like Riley's.

Riley's face became bright red, his jaw slightly dropping.

"It... It was a big dog. Almost the half my height," he stuttered, rubbing his neck. This made another creaking sound come from where his shoulder was mounted to the torso.

"I said you shouldn't move," Thomas grumbled, tired of repeating the same thing to his friend. Riley was a great friend. To Thomas, he was just as great a friend like every other human being. But he never did as he was told before the third or tenth time you said it, which annoyed Thomas a lot.

"Sorry..."

"I should oil you. You seem to have become a little rusty with all that creaking and screeching," Thomas sighed, placing the welder were it belonged. He searched on the shelf, until his eyes landed on the special oiler he had designed for Riley. It had this long needle at the end where the oil easily could get out. He had to make it a needle, or else he couldn't get access to the machinery which lay under Riley's skin.

Just as he was about to grab the can, his eyes fell on an old picture in a gold-painted frame beside of it. It was a photo, the edges of the paper miscoloured from the light throughout the years. The photo contained of two young men in the early twenties, both wearing white coats and big goofy smiles. He recognised the one to the right as himself in a younger version, side glancing to the one to the left whose eyes were this beautiful ocean blue colour so intense it seem unnatural.

He was holding something that was the size of a dog. It looked kind of like a dog too, despite that it was made out of metal and didn't have a head. And in his other hand he was holding some sort of prize. Beside of the photo was a blueprint of a machine, looking like a human.

If Thomas had just known what that blueprint lead to...

The sight of the blueprint made Thomas's inside turn into a hard knot, a sour taste filling his mouth. If he just had known about the consequences. Ha had been in the seventh heaven when he had glanced at the blueprint right after making it with his... well it was complicated. He hadn't seen him in in person in years, and he really doubted that the man wanted to see him.

The memory of what had happened made him sigh loudly and shake his head. A knot tightening in his chest.

It doesn't matter. He's not your problem anymore. You have Riley and you need to take care of him.

With a swift movement he grabbed the oiler, making his way back to Riley, who gazed down on his hand, clenching and unclenching it.

Thomas placed his hand on top of his friend's head, gently tilting it, so he could get a better access to his joints.

"I hate needles," Riley complained.

"Quit crying," Thomas answered dryly, showing the end of the oiler into his skin. "It's not as if you can feel the pain anyway."

When he had pulled out the needle, he wiped the oil away with a towel, patting Riley on the shoulder.

"You're all done my friend. Now, do you want to take a game of Scrabble?"