Work Text:
Walter Worker Sage makes her way across the grounds of Walter Manor. Bill, owner and manager of The Bucking Bronco had dropped off Sarsaparilla the robot bull off at the Manor for a minor tweaking of the show horns that Six had commissioned for them a while ago. Bill had rather sheepishly explained over the phone with Sage earlier that for the life of him he simply couldn’t remember how to get the show horns off Sas’ head. The schematics had very conveniently gone missing as well, though he swore that he’d put them in a safe space.
While Six takes charge of printing Bill out a few copies of Sas’ show horn schematics, it was Sage’s job to make sure there wasn’t anything wrong with the operation of said horns, and take them off.
“Hey Sas!” She greets cheerfully as she crosses the grass to the paddock the large mechanical bull was currently waiting in, his broad and nearly black patinaed shoulders reflecting some of the afternoon sun’s light. When he turned to look at the approaching Walter Worker, the oven mitts that covered his long ‘show’ horns wiggle a bit with the motion.
“You ready to get that stuff off your head, bud?” Sage asks, slipping through the paddock’s gate and smiling a bit when the bull happily taps his front hooves on the ground and wiggles in place before bounding up to her.
“Yes-can-not-wait-!--Moony-is-a-good friend-!” Excitement was evident in the bull’s spelling toy like voice modulator. He blows out a plume of steam as he lightly tosses his head.
“Well, I told you I’d help you out, Sas.” Sage chuckles softly at his nickname for her. During his software upgrade, he’d come with that nickname for her all on his own. Perhaps he just liked the sound of it, given his bovine nature. He knew nothing about the Walter Worker’s more… wolfish nature, after all.
“Now stand still, okay? I’m going to get the oven mitts that Bill put on you off, then the show horns. Is it alright if I do that?” She knew that Sas understood what she was going to do but she’d feel better about it if he gave permission first.
“Stand still--” Sas agreed, tilting his head a little to peer at Sage with gently glowing optics as he stood otherwise perfectly still in front of her. “Ready-when-you-are--friend.”
“Alrighty, here go the mitts.” Sage narrates as she works, undoing the rubber bands that held them in place before slipping the mitts off. “And now for the show horns…”
Said show horns were about six inches in length and while not sculpted to be particularly sharp, could’ve still proven a little annoying if someone was poked or prodded hard enough with them. They were mostly meant to be used for photo opportunities at The Bucking Bronco. Hidden underneath the large patinaed horns were Sas’ smaller, lightly curved horns molded right to the plating on his head. He liked those ones the best because he could gently nudge his head against his friends without the fear of hurting them by accident.
“Let’s see… press the small button at the base of the horn and twist...clockwise, was it?” The Walter Worker murmurs to herself, trying to recall what Sas’ schematics had instructed as she fiddles with the horn she presently had gripped in her left hand.
Sas quietly hums a tune to himself, his thoughts buzzing happily with the notion of finally getting his show horns off. “Hugs-?” he gently asks Sage after a moment.
“Hm? Did you want a hug after this, Sas? Sure, that sounds fine.” Sage replied absently, her focus still on the horn she was struggling to disconnect. Damn. Is it stuck, or did I misread the schematics?
“Woo-!--hugs-are-fun-!” Forgetting in the moment to remain still, Sas blows some steam from his nose and wiggles happily.
The unexpected movement surprises Sage, and the horn slips from her grip, the tip moving quick and hard enough and at just a right angle across her palm to actually cut the skin. She hisses softly in pain and eyes the blood welling to the surface of the shallow wound.
“Damn…” Before she could do much else, she squeezes her eyes shut against the quickly intensifying onset of familiar, burning pain that emitted from the small wound. Wait...Sas isn’t made with actual silver components, is he?
A cold chill of dread crept down her spine as she noticed the skin around the wound was turning gray, as were the veins under the skin through out her hand, pulsing gray and painfully in time with her heartbeat. A small exposure like this wouldn’t prove fatal to her, much like her experience with silver broach she’d pricked herself with shortly after arriving at the Manor. It would still be uncomfortable to say the least.
“Moony-?--friend-a-okay-?--”
The bull’s question makes Sage look back up to him. The concern and worry in his optics breaks her heart. He’s going to blame himself…
“I-I’m alright,” she replies shakily, the small amount of silver in her bloodstream already making her feel lightheaded and feverish.
“Hurt-you--so-sorry--Sage.” Guilt shone in his optics as he looked from the hand Sage held close in an attempt to hide the blood from him, up to her face where she could see an oil-like fluid beading up in his optics.
“No...Sas, sweetheart it’s not your fault. I-I didn’t know your horn tip was made of genuine silver. Please don’t blame yourself, it’s my fault.” Sage sways a little on her feet, heart pounding in her ears.
“Lean-on-me--will-get-help--” Sas quickly sidled up to her so she could brace herself against his broad shoulder.
“No, I don’t need help...I’ll be okay, just-” Sage glances up and spots a large oak tree nearby. “Just help me over to that tree, okay? I can rest there and ride this out.” She couldn’t risk going back to the Manor in this state, not everyone there fully knew her secret, and she was scared deep down that the more often she had incidents like this, she may be kicked out or worse, somehow turned back in to the people she ran from in the first place. Irrational or not, the fear was still real.
Sas hesitates for a moment, unsure if this was the best idea. Then again, if this was going to help his friend, who was he to say no? He carefully helps Sage over to the old oak and lets her slowly slide down to the ground near the trunk. Sage couldn’t help the trembling that wracked her body by this time, and Sas’s ears twitched slightly at the soft and pained sounding canine-like whimpers that his friend was trying to control. The graying of her veins had spread from her hand up her arm, pulsing rhythmically with her heart.
The bull picks his front hooves up off the ground in a nervous manner as he blew steam. He didn’t like seeing his friends hurt, especially when he knew that he was the cause of Sage’s pain right now, accident or no. It didn’t sit right with his core programming.
“Get-help-?” He offers again, before ever so gently touching his smooth metal nose to her feverish forehead.
“No, c-can’t let them see m-me like this.” Sage replies through chattering teeth, her brow creasing in pain when the muscles in her arm began burning, and spasming slightly. “Please stay with me, Sas? I-I don’t want to be alone…”
Even the bull could tell that the request was uncharacteristically vulnerable coming from Sage. Not needing to be asked twice, Sas carefully folds his legs up under himself and sinks to the ground beside her, curling around her when she weakly leans against him, starting to shiver.
“Sorry--” He says, as softly as his spelling toy-like voice modulator could manage while nuzzling his head gently against her. His ears flatten back in worry when he hears the soft whines of pain that Sage was unable to bite back.
“I-I’ll be okay,” the Walter Worker assures the gentle hearted automaton bull, and herself. She hides her face in his neck, feeling how her features have shifted now to something more wolfen, ‘half-borked’ as she’d describe it. How would Sas react? She didn’t want to scare him more so than he probably was now.
After a few minutes that felt to Sage like an eternity, the pain thankfully starts to ebb away. Chancing a glance down to her hand she was relieved to see that the pulsing graying veins were starting to go back to normal. The wound on her palm was also slowly sealing itself. It would no doubt leave a faint scar, as was the norm for silver related injuries for her.
It was then Sage noticed Sas quietly peering at her, blue optics glowing softly in the shade of the tree.
Well, here we go, I guess…
She sits up and scoots a little away from him, not out of fear, more to let him get a better look at her and to give him space to react.
“Hi, bud...I’m okay. My hand doesn’t really hurt that much anymore.”
“Sage--” He blinks curiously at her before leaning over to gently snuffle at her furry wolf ears. “What-is-this-??--Did-I-do-it-?”
Sage couldn’t help the faint almost rueful smile that crossed her features. “No, no you didn’t cause this...This is just how I am. Please don’t be scared of me, okay, Sas? You know I’d never hurt you, or anyone for that matter.” Her eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. The last thing she wants is for him to be scared and to think that she was a monster…
Sas tilts his head back and forth as he studies her with curious optics, before nodding softly to himself, seeming to reach a decision.
“Puppy-dog--not-scary---Sage is-still-Sage--” he gently states and much to Sage’s surprise, starts to lick her cheek clean of the salty tears that had fallen without her noticing. She gives a tearful chuckle before full on giggling when Sas decides to groom the rest of her face and even behind her wolf ears before she could manage to gently bat his snout away. The bull relents on his grooming and pulls back, blowing a puff of steam into the air in amusement at the cowlicks he left sticking up in Sage’s hair and around her wolf ears.
“Feel-better--?”
“Yeah...thanks Sas.” Sage replies and gives a small, and crooked snaggle-fanged smile.
The Walter Worker and bull lounge under the shade of the great oak tree, simply enjoying the light breeze and the nearby birdsong for a little while longer as Sage calms down. Sas settles himself a little closer to her, curiously observing as her features return to normal and listening when she attempts to address his unspoken questions in a way he would easily understand, and reiterate that what happened was not his fault.
As she leans against his broad flank, she ends up framing it a bit like a story Sparky would read to him from one the fairy tale books he likes; a story of a young girl with a terrible fate and a very bad man. Leaving out detail that was perhaps a little too much for her kindhearted bull friend to process right now, she keeps the important bits; of changing shape yet still remaining the same, the fear of the bad man finding her again and the importance of keeping a secret to avoid that possibility, but also of the joy of finding a home here, and a family.
That joy was something the bull could certainly understand.
Once Sage was finished with her story, he gives a promise to not talk to anyone else about this. Any questions he might have later he’d save until he and Sage were alone like this again.
A comfortable silence falls between the two of them, Sage absently playing with the little twists of wire at the end of Sas’s tail. Telling this story reminded her of another time, when she’d tell stories to help a young friend find peace in the night. But that, was a tale and thought for another time. A gentle nudge from Sas brings her back to the present.
“Bad-man-won’t- get-you-here--- Will-keep you-safe--promise.”
That was an impossible promise to make, yet it did make her feel safe in a way. There were likely others in the Manor who’d feel the same way Sas did, and maybe for now that was enough.
“Thank you, Sas.”
Meanwhile inside the Manor Six feels his stomach drop and his eyes widen behind his keyhole mask upon reviewing some of the information about Sas’ horns. In the fine print of one of the blueprints, it was noted that there was a small percentage of genuine silver used in the creation of the show horns. Politely excusing himself from the small office he was printing up the schematic copies for Bill, Six dashes down the hall and around the corner before pulling out his phone and quickly calling Sage.
After a few rings, Sage checks her phone to see ‘Boss-man (Peter Six)’ flash on her screen.
Odd, he usually never calls… she thinks before quickly pressing the green answer button.
“Boss, everything okay?”
“Sage! Thank goodness. Are you alright? Don’t touch Sas’ show horns too much, I just discovered that--”
“That there’s silver in the horns? Way ahead of you, boss.” Sage interjects calmly.
“I’m sorry, Sage. I know you’re well, allergic, to silver. I’m sorry I didn’t catch it before sending you out to mess with the horns.”
“It’s fine, boss. It’s not your fault. I totally missed that detail too, or I would’ve worn gloves as a precaution.”
Six briefly pauses on the other end of the phone and Sage could hear him take a quiet breath before he continued.
“Are you sure that you’re alright?”
“Yeah. I’m good, I promise, boss.” Sage replies, looking down at the now white-ish looking marking on her palm. She wouldn’t say anything about the cut. It was no big deal, and she could tell how much he was already kicking himself for missing that small detail.
Satisfied with her answers, Six then gives an awkward goodbye before ending the call.
Sage chuckles softly and pockets her phone again. A small spark of warmth filled her chest. It was nice to know that Six cared enough about her well being to check in on her, even though it was a warning given too late. She peers over at Sas.
"Ready to head on in, bud? I've got some gloves in my workshop. I think it best if I use them for round two with those show horns of yours.”
After ending the call, Peter the Sixth rubs the back of his neck. He’d gotten so preoccupied with company business, and Cavalcadium matters that he’d forgotten to finish work on that dang gizmo he was trying to make for Sage; a kind of handheld sensor so she wouldn’t have to worry about accidental exposure to silver. He grumbles to himself as he makes his way back to the office he left Bill in.
This was a mistake, thankfully one that hadn’t ended in disaster, but a mistake he didn’t want happening again. The Walter descendant made a mental note to himself, and for good measure added a memo to his phone as he walked down the corridor. He had to finish that sensor.
Employee safety was a paramount concern for Walter Robotics, and something that the company, and by extension Six prided himself on.