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His right foot buzzed each step of the way. His screen alternated between reality and a rerun of some old 90s sitcom. If only he had saved some power, he could have zapped away through security cameras instead of relying helplessly on the Radio Demon to actually half-drag him someplace safer.
“Some coordination from you would be much appreciated, ol’ buddy ol’ pal,” came Alastor’s irritatingly cheerful voice from his left. He hoisted Vox’s arm further up his shoulder.
“Ow.” Vox’s breath stuttered as the movement jostled the stab wound by his ribcage.
Alastor’s ear twitched, smile widening a fraction. “Oh, sorry about that.”
“You’re not sorry, quit bluffing,” Vox grumbled. He hoisted himself up but pain lanced through his stomach. Air escaped his vents, body hunched and trembling. “Shit I can’t do it, if I stretch any more, it’d rip my internal wires.”
“Ha! How delightful!”
Vox side-eyed him warily, not in the mood to banter with Alastor when his insides were close to spilling out. He looked down, impeccable outfit stained red and dripping, leaving a bloody trail behind them. He ran a systems check – nothing. No footage of the ambush, sensors scrambled to pick up anything.
Damn, just what was the deal with that deranged beast?
He clicked his tongue and huffed a breath, causing Alastor to slow down and hum questioningly.
“That crazy bitch…”
Amidst his and Alastor’s fight, the psycho lizard wannabe samurai sinner swooped through the air, piercing Vox’s torso with a falcata when he braced for Alastor’s attack. He’d managed to kick her away from him and immediately counter-attacked in a flurry of wires. As quickly as she appeared, she slinked through the shadows, red eyes glowing with promises of pain. The humiliation, the thought of being caught off-guard like that made Vox’s circuits spark erratically. He should deliver ten times the pain. He should find her first.
“Careful now, picture box. Wouldn’t want to overheat now, hmm?”
Vox weakly growled but even his vocal cords were fried. He slumped forward more, Alastor’s grip on him the only thing between him and the ground. His antennae sparked and fizzed, catching signals and bouncing through frequencies.
He heard Alastor sigh and slightly adjust his hold on him.
“Honestly Vox, if you were overpowered like that by such a lowlife sinner, how much more would you fare against me?”
“Would you shut it? I’m not in the mood for being reprimanded by you, of all people.”
“And yet I’m the one you’re leaning on for support,” he tittered, endlessly amused and jovial. “Not your so-called teammates, not your hideous shark you call a pet, but me. So tell me, who’s on your side and means it?”
Electricity fizzed just below his synthetic skin, ego bruised and pride in shambles. He wanted to claw into Alastor, show him he was powerful, and beat him till bruised black and blue. He wanted to do all that and so much more but his current condition was well… not up to par to do anything. It was humiliating and frustrating.
Vox considered going home through the electrical current, all his parts be damned, but somehow knew the travel speed would prove too much for his battered state. He was still comparably far from the Vee Tower, and half-hobbling on his good foot with only Alastor to support him was gonna take a long time. What could he do? He needed to lay down somewhere and get to work recalibrating everything.
“Vox?”
“What is it, you egotistical self-absorbed maniac?”
Alastor’s frequency pushed against his just slightly, the only thing that betrayed his displeasure at the insult. Vox lifted his head slightly at that, gaze snapping to Alastor’s face, but found it mechanically fixed with that infuriating smile. Their eyes met, a shiver going down Vox’s spine at the weight of Alastor’s gaze on him. He looked away, screen heating with a blush. He coughed awkwardly, now fully aware of the line of heat along his arm from Alastor’s warmth.
Alastor hummed, all that menacing energy dissipated. “I’ve located a small hotel nearby. Not up to standards with ours, obviously, but seeing as you can hardly stand, this would have to do.”
Vox straightened slightly, ignoring the pain in his side, and raised a brow. “You serious? You coulda just left me in shambles there. Why are you going outta your way to help me?” His bruised body attempted to put more space between him and Alastor. “You’re not planning to trap me again in some wordplay deal, right?”
Alastor’s deer ears lowered a tad the same time his eyes narrowed. “How low do you think I’d go, repeating the same trick? I have more up my sleeve, and you know me better than that.”
Vox’s mechanical heart jumped at his last sentence but pretended to play aloof, because that was the only thing he could do. He could never again show Alastor vulnerability and trust. Seven years had proved that much. And even before that.
“Really, the silent treatment? I should just leave you here.” This was punctuated by canned audience laughter.
Vox snorted, more air than sound. “Oh yeah then why don’t cha? Clearly, nothing’s stopping you from trampling my already broken body.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“And yet… here we are,” Vox returned, voice glitchy and sardonic and equal parts amused and hurt. He leveled Alastor with an intense look. And his old friend neither looked nor backed away. “Inches apart. Again.”
Static rumbled. Shadows grew. Yet Alastor maintained eye contact and his smile never wavered. But his eyes were narrowed and ears bent just a bit. Vox knew him well and long enough to always look for the subtlest of hints to read Alastor’s moods. And now, Vox triumphed at the fact he was able to push Alastor to a metaphorical wall. The power imbalance was intoxicating. Dangerously so.
The grip on Vox’s bicep pressurized, not enough to break it but enough to send a silent warning.
Vox only smirked, tired and defenseless, completely at the other demon’s mercy.
Alastor stopped pushing, reverting to his charming self as he made a noise behind his throat.
“I forgot how chattery you are. Silly me.” He looked at Vox again. Those red eyes were piercing, and still so menacingly gorgeous. “So what will it be, Vincent?”
Vox swallowed at the use of his old name. His eyes shifted. His grip on Alastor’s cloak tightened. Now he was the one backed into a corner. He chuckled to himself, finding the irony hilarious.
Seeing as they really had no other choice, he sighed, defeated.
“All right Al,” the nickname slipped so easily from loose lips, “lead the way.”
“Wonderful! You still have your head attached, for good reason.”
Vox sighed. “Oh enough with the patronizing already it’s driving me fucking crazy!”
“Oh but I thought you found me inspiring? Come now, dear, enliven this moment while I do the walking and talking for both our sakes!”
And Alastor prattled on and on, seemingly not losing breath. Vox could only miserably listen and fade in and out, bent incredibly out of shape and air vents running on overdrive. Yet as they walked the deserted streets with only moonlight to guide them, he couldn’t help but be cautiously grateful for not being abandoned in one of his weaker moments.
Seemed they were destined to be each other’s thorn on the side, for better or worse.