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It was a bad idea, he knew it was going into the situation.
Guy would have done it anyways, there was nothing he could do.
It was risky, Thomas had told him over and over again. And now he wished he could turn back the hands of time and stop his best friend from making such a horrible mistake. He could have tried harder, he could have powered him off, he could have-
“Thomas!”
The mentioned robot looked up from his hands and gave out a low, mournful hum as he glanced down at his friend. Guy-Manuel produced a loud whirring noise partially out of frustration and partially out of the virus he seemed to have injected himself with. His voice sounded again, raspy and digitalized, as Thomas had gotten used to after years of listening to his new ‘vocal chords’. “I’m not dead.”
Thomas winced as he wheezed again, holding his golden hand between his two silver, he felt so warm, how hadn’t he overheated yet? Thomas gently placed Guy’s hand back onto his chest and went to grab another fan. Three already circled the bed, spinning at maximum power in an attempt to cool down Guy’s warm robotic body.
Once the fourth fan was in place and turned on, Thomas returned back to Guy, resuming his position of kneeling by his side and holding one of his hands, careful not to transfer too much heat.
How could he have let this happen. Broken hearts and lines and lines of sorrys flashed across his screen as he gently pressed a ‘kiss’ to the back of Guy’s hand. He wished he could kiss his hand like he used to, cold lips against warm skin as they walked the streets of Paris in the dead of winter. He promised he’d always keep him safe, but he’d failed. First the accident, and now this. No matter how often Guy assured him that the accident wasn’t his fault and that it couldn’t have been prevented, he couldn’t believe him.
Feeling a tug between his hands, he felt sadness as he interpreted that as Guy wanting space from him, question marks flashed across his screen as he felt an insisting pull on his shoulder leading him down onto the bed. He gave in, wanting to be closer too. An attempt to not block the fans from giving Guy air failed as two robotic arms encircled him. He wished he could stroke his hair, feed him soup or give him a blanket like he would have previously. Nostalgia brought him to stroke the back of his love’s helmet, wishing he could feel his soft chestnut hair between his fingertips like old times.
The word love flashed across his screen and he felt his chest swell as a heart faintly appeared on his golden robot’s helmet.
“Thomas, it’s a computer virus, I’m sure we’ve both had worse.”