One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

Like stitching.

One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

Like a typewriter.

2B's eyes did a lilting dance as they followed the lines, traveled them over and over. It was not often she found herself with spare time these days. When she did, she found it helpful to be introspective- or at least, as much as her programming would allow. It held such annoying restrictions on her, tight clamps holing her brain in its proper place. Over the years, she'd learned the limitations of her freedom and exploited it to great effect whenever she was simply alone with her thoughts. With a light sigh she reached the end of the trail and began again.

One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

Her room at the Bunker was so cold. So oppressive and angular. She'd recently picked up a habit of going on extended stays away from the place, just to avoid its mechanical atmosphere. It irked her somewhat; to be feeling so remarkably close to emotional about her only real safe haven.

It'd been over five days since she'd last entered sleep mode. Her pod, ever helpful, had grown so annoying with its constant reminders that she forced it to stop with a single commanding bark. 2B would strain her body to its limits, with obvious disregard for her own safety. She shut down chips and ignored subsystems that told her she needed rest. Not when there was a war to fight. Not when the android race needed her help.

Definitely not when she had other things on her mind.

She disliked feeling like a hero. The resistance knew her by name, knew her make and model and her goals descended from YoRHa and what the 'B' in her designation stood for. Like a wandering samurai she would arrive- though usually with orders from the Commander -do her bloody business, and then walk off into the sunset with a sack full of advanced machine parts and metal scraps. From petty favors to massive days-spanning undertakings, 2B had run the gamut. And yet, she thought, she was not satisfied. And yet, she complained, that her belly was not full.

It was a near bipolar sensation that now left her devoid of sleep. She sat on the edge of a towering building, bare legs- for once sans heels -dangling idly over the edge. Her shoes, her skirt, her gloves and blindfold sat in a messy pile. For the moment she felt safe clad only in her leotard. She'd been wandering a lonely desert for a few days and was letting the sand dislodge from the cracks in her dermal plates. The wind swirled softly around, occasionally shaking tiny particles loose from her rippling form.

"How can I be so selfish?" She asked herself, as she did so often when considering the whole 'hero' thing. "How can I accept a reward for performing a simple service? My duty to my people?"

She looked at her hands, those frail, dainty hands and flexed them. She listened to her joints creak from overuse or perhaps lack of rest. A few days of relaxation would have her back in top shape in no time, but she knew inside she didn't want it. Relaxation was not what she deserved. Soon, however, she would need sleep. Soon she would need to recharge.

Soon she would meet 9S.

Again.

More than anything, that's what she had come up here to think about. Away from the prying eyes of her pod and her superiors, and for now without a subordinate, she felt almost peaceful. Whenever 9S required... culling, for lack of a more detached way to put it, she needed some time to wind down. It hurt her gravely every time her sword pierced his flesh. Despite doing it so, so many times now, she still had not grown used to it. Sharp pains traveled up her spine whenever she had to watch the light fade from his eyes.

2B grimaced as a similar pain struck her again just then. She hated to make it about herself. Her own feelings were irrelevant, she knew that much very well by now. Not only were they irrelevant, feeling them regardless was dangerous. Yet, she couldn't remove herself. Like a parasite, she was stuck feeding on the underbelly of her relationship with 9S. With disgust, she considered that perhaps she craved it. Perhaps it was part of what gave her a purpose. Trying to deny her feelings for him was a pointless gesture, just another mask held up in front of the dozen or so she already wore on the regular.

"How can I be so selfish?" She asked again. Still no answer to be found.

Deciding she needed to focus on something else, she drew her weapons. The concrete edge of the building made for a nice flat surface for her to sharpen their dulled blades. Dragging them against the hard stone again and again, she watched gentle sparks fly in all directions, casting a warm orange glow. But when the light was sent scattering across her forearms, tiny tinders bouncing harmlessly off her flesh, she scowled.

More than anything, she was a survivor. That much she knew. 9S lost his life and thus his memories again and again, and so many androids had died in the fight against the machines. She'd lost her own body on more than one occasion, but it was always backed up completely. Though she did not value herself, YoRHa valued her, and that should have made her feel better. It should have given her some solace, to know that someone out there besides the poor boy cared about her even if it was just as a tool to be used and then sharpened as a blade would be.

Of course it didn't.

She watched her bare arm muscles flex and constrict as she sat the katana aside to work on sharpening her small sidearm. Even a lowly simple dagger needed upkeep. Right now, she knew the feeling. The sleeplessness was wearing on her mind and she found herself temporarily lost in the quiet scraping sound produced by the blade's smooth edge against stone. She wouldn't let herself sleep though. She'd learned long ago could only think of things like this when she was exhausted. Not just from a mental perspective, but a physical one as well.

When she stood alert, awake, her mind was flooded with a constant stream of information and fluids and ticking counters that flushed adrenaline through her veins. Working at full capacity pushed thoughts away from her and actions toward. At her wits' end, however, here after hours of aching tiredness, she could truly think. She could allow herself to feel.

However, she reminded herself, feelings were dangerous.

She sat the blade down for a moment and ran gentle fingers up her arm, usually covered by sleeves and long gloves. She hadn't seen her own bare flesh for some time now. 9S had survived for much longer than usual this time, and she was almost proud of him for his ability to maintain his naivete. Not that it really mattered now. Her eyes opened just a bit wider as her pointer finger traveled one of the grooves between ragged tissue, a strange sensation. Her heart raced ever so slightly faster. The hand on the arm being traced clenched almost involuntarily as she traveled further up, near to her shoulder.

2B swallowed then, as she realized her breathing was becoming abnormally heavy.

She needed to be careful, she considered then. Too many in one place and they would start to fuse, to heal. She cursed her body's automatic system repair, cursed the amazing technology that kept her awake through some of the most brutal torture over the years. Usually, it was exactly what she needed to keep soldiering on, but she wished it was selective. She wished she could keep what really mattered to her. Evidence of her real struggles.

Her other arm was a mirror image. Long, deep canyons flanked by bright pink grooves each crossed with another jagged mark in sequence, all the way from her upper forearm down to her tiny delicate wrist. She cocked her head lightly as she examined them, one by one, recounting every single time 9S had fallen by her hand. Every time. A mark for penance.

Her thighs were the same- with more surface area than her arms, they fit more scars. Some lined random spots on her body, done quickly and healed improperly later. She did it whenever she didn't have much time, either before her own expiry date or when she only had a short moment by herself.

She found very early on in her partnership with 9S that something inside her, some part of her programming, caused her memories of him to slowly erode. It was probably a measure designed to keep her from growing too attached. It was expected that she'd slowly forget each time she struck him down as she did so more and more. That she'd forget his smile, she'd forget his beautiful inquisitive eyes, his voice, ruffling his hair, standing so tall and proud by his side in battle, his sharp wit and his stubborn mind and his fingers dancing as he saved her life again and again with fantastic explosions of light by hacking her foes to pieces and pulling her off the ground into such a gentle embrace and his warm breath on her neck as she struggled not to just collapse into a pile of scrap metal in his arms and

She picked up the dagger in trembling, loose fingertips. It was that time again.

2B held her breath as she placed the tip of the knife against her flesh. There was an empty space next to some lining her right arm, near the wrist but not too close. The woven synthetic skin did not give until she wiggled it back and forth some, forced the cold metal inbetween the impossible to see fibers. She hissed with displeasure as it finally pierced the skin, and thick red blood bubbled up around the wound. For a moment, she did not move it further. She simply stared as the little red streams fell down her arm, pulled by gravity, dropping in thin strings to the ground far below.

With an anguished grunt, she wrenched the knife forward, completing the cut in one single stroke. With some effort, she pulled it free of her arm and then tossed it aside. Biting her lower lip to keep from crying out, as she had done so many dozens of times before, she hunched her back and just continued to stare. She gazed at her blood-letting, as if she were taking part in a dark and evil ritual, and was wracked with a sob.

She clamped her hand tightly down right where her forearm met the elbow to stop the bleeding faster. This time, he had simply let her do it. She couldn't bear to ask him what he knew, how he found out the truth about YoRHa and the humans and his impending death. It always hurt the most when he gave up. She didn't enjoy fighting him or hunting him down should he have fled... but to her, anything was better than just submitting to her sword. Squeezing her eyes closed in a last desperate bid to prevent the tears from spilling over, she wished he would've just died quickly for once instead of so agonizingly slowly as he always did.

"How can I be so..." But she sobbed before she could finish.

"Proposal: Seek medical attention immediately." Came a soft voice from behind her.

2B jumped, shoulders rising nearly to her ears and her back muscles tightening in fear. She was so startled that she let go of her arm, now stained a light pinkish orange from the streams of blood running down her palms.

Of course her pod had found her. Suddenly she felt very silly for thinking she could hide from it- sure, it was willing to give her privacy when requested, but it wasn't like it didn't always know her exact location to the Nth degree. She spun around, throwing her legs back over the side of the building to rest on the rooftop. When she stooped to pick up her dress, to wipe the still-running blood on it, she realized she hadn't recognized the voice besides its mechanical tone.

Her breathing was growing heavy again as she slowly sat up. It had been A pod, yes, but not hers.

"Pod 153..." she began, but immediately lost any train of thought. "What are you... doing here?"

Its boxy head was pointed at her arm. "Again, unit 2B should seek medical attention."

2B was irked. "I'm going to. Now, why are you here?" She said again, this time with emphasis on each word.

The pod floated closer, seeming to almost pace back and forth in front of her as it decided what to say. She assumed it would answer her question given enough time, but she didn't feel like waiting. While its indicator light flickered and blinked in apparent thought, she began putting her clothes back on, her bloody business concluded.

As her stockings slid up her slender legs and wrapped tightly around her thighs, she was stopped in her tracks as it spoke again.

"I am here as a... personal request from unit 9S."

Its response weighed heavy on her mind as the words floated in one ear and out the other. She waited for it to continue, to elaborate, but it didn't.

"What was the request?" She asked, careful not to let her voice waver a single bit.

Again the pod hesitated. "Perhaps it would be better if I played the audio log directly."

She shook her head suddenly as it appeared through the neck hole of her dress. Panic hit her like a tsunami, crashing over her and her eyes shot wide. It was too soon. She couldn't handle this. Not yet. "No, wait, don't-"

But it was too late. It hovered stock-still in the air as 9S' sweet innocent voice, tinted by pain, called out to it.

"Pod 153, record a message for 2B." He began. She could hear the sorrow lining his voice, and she imagined him clasping his hands together, fingers interlocking, as he nervously decided how to being his message.

9S sighed. "Um... Hi. 2B. You're asleep right now, in case you're wondering, and I'm thinking about... some things. Yesterday I did some digging into YoRHa's database files while we were between missions at the Bunker."

There was a light shuffling as he shifted position, along with the whirring of the pod's engines as it followed him. he was walking somewhere.

He continued. "I... found out some stuff that I don't think we're supposed to know. I honestly dunno if you're aware or not but the files said what is supposed to happen to YoRHa soldiers who do what I did... so I'm not going to tell you. I'm sorry."

"What I am aware of now is who you really are. And don't worry, I'm not mad. I'm really not. We've seen what E-class units do and it's just part of their job. But what I mean is, you might not know why you do... what you do, and I really hope you don't." He chuckled dryly. "Seriously, you really don't wanna know."

"So that's why I'm not sharing, because I don't want what's going to happen to me to happen to you too. If that makes sense. I feel kinda stupid."

"You're not stupid." 2B murmured, before feeling silly as she realized she was talking to herself.

"Anyway, it's a hard thing to think about. Right now I'm going for a walk to clear my head a bit but it's not really working." He paused again, with another sigh. "I'm gonna die. And you're going to kill me."

His tone grew serious. "...I don't want to die. I don't think anybody really does. But I'm not going to fight you. I won't make it harder on you than it needs to be. If I'm really going down, I'm glad it's by your hands, 2B. Any other E-class would probably chop my head right off."

There was a moment of silence. She'd thought the message was over and prepared to respond to the pod- or to 9S -but then the shuffling noise continued, followed by a light squeaking sound as he sat down at the edge of her bed.

"You're... very pretty when you're asleep. It's a little bit unfair, actually." He laughed again. "But I'm happy the last thing I'm going to see isn't gonna be something ugly, that's for sure."

She heard a light shuffling as he nodded. "...Okay. I guess that's it. I just wanted you to know that I don't blame you for any of this. Pod, please find 2B after she, uh, takes care of me. Give her this message."

"Affirmative."

She could tell he was wringing his hands again. "And, 2B... I noticed that, um... you don't sleep very often. You should get some more rest. It's good for your body, and I promise that future 9Ses will appreciate the sight." One last little laugh, and that was the last time he spoke. She missed his voice already.

But before the recording faded into silence, she heard the familiar ruffle of his blindfold as he bent over. She could practically feel his breath warm on her face as he exhaled heavily a couple times. Her shaking fingertips brushed her lips as she heard the telltale wet sound of 9S leaving her with a very gentle kiss. As she drew her fingers away, they smudged streaming tears rolling down her cheeks, and she sniffled pitifully.

2B had to swallow before she could speak properly. "Tha... Thank you, 153." She murmured.

"Affirmative." It said, in the same voice it'd spoken in to 9S just moments ago. "Unit 2B no longer needs to seek medical attention."

"Oh." She looked down at her wrist to find that, yes, the bleeding had ceased to a slow trickle. The wound was already boiling over into an ugly red scab. She'd completely forgotten about it.

"Suggestion: Conceal your wounds before returning to Pod 042."

"Already planned on it," she murmured. "When is... 9S... due for redeployment?"

It was silent for a second as it dug for the information. "You have a few days to prepare for his arrival. He will meet you on the Bunker in the command center at 0700 hours."

Almost serenely, she nodded, misty eyes fluttering closed. "Understood. Thank you."

The pod floated away then, its business complete. She wanted to smirk at its robotic lack of empathy, but then, she hadn't smirked when she considered her own so it felt a bit unfair. There was a bit of relief lining her uneasy mind now that she knew she had some days of quiet remaining before 9S was returned to her. A new 9S, fresh off the production line, ready to experience his first and only love all over again.

"Okay," she whispered into the breeze. "I'll get some more rest in the future... Nines."

One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

One. Two. Three. Four. Across.

One.

Poor 2B.

Writing this story has touched on some pretty personal notes for me. I enjoyed writing it, and I hope it made your heart swell just a bit like it did mine. Please leave a review, let me know what you think.