(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?

PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?

A/N: I really need to remember to throw chapters up here after I write them. Sorry guys! As always, things are crazy hectic for me! Hopefully next chapter will happen a lot sooner than this one did. I'm almost done writing it, so I'll attempt to catch up more with posting!

"The closing of a door can bring blessed privacy and comfort - the opening, terror. Conversely, the closing of a door can be a sad and final thing - the opening a wonderfully joyous moment."

~Andy Rooney

Chapter Five – Comfort

Gospel sat by the door quietly, resting his cheek against the wall and letting the smooth, cool texture soothe him. He was confused... So confused. Forte had rejected him. Thrown him out, locked the door. Worst yet, he'd seemed almost relieved when he did it. If his main unit wanted him gone, then why had he gone to all the trouble of having him reactivated? Why did Forte not want him now?

He wanted to be good for him – wanted desperately to please him. That was all he had ever wanted in life, really. He was created to serve Forte, and that was it. But now he wasn't wanted, and he didn't understand what he was doing wrong. The tightness had returned to his chest, and he squirmed a little, gripping onto it a little. This body... it had to have something to do with this new form he had. He felt the uncomfortable bite of shame, but was too unfamiliar with it to know it for what it was.

He looked up suddenly, hearing the slight grind and click of a doorknob as the door across the hall opened unexpectedly, casting a sliver of light into the hall only to be partially blocked by a shadow. Blues was standing in the doorway in a pair of boxers and a grey t-shirt, leaning out into the hall and staring down at him with a small sigh. "You get the boot?" He shook his head slightly and gestured for Gospel to make his way over to him.

Gospel couldn't help but cower a little, vulnerable and in front of the enemy without Forte anywhere in sight. At this point, he wasn't even sure if Forte would bother coming to his rescue. He looked around a little timidly, shifting up slowly, and Blues sighed a little. "They just don't get it, do they? Come on, you can stay with me tonight, you shouldn't sleep on the floor anymore."

Gospel walked over to him hesitantly, slow to trust the older boy given their less than friendly past, but Blues just walked back into his room, making up a spot for the newer robot. He followed him quietly, head down. This was the second time that the eldest Light bot had come to his aid since he had been reactivated, and he didn't know why.

Blues was the only one who acted like it didn't matter that he had been forced into a humanoid body. He even paid more attention to him than Forte had as of late. Forte just treated him like the embarrassment he had become. He was just a support unit, why had they done this to him?

He didn't like that thought, it made him uncomfortable. Suddenly his eyes began to water, and he fidgeted a little, trying to rub away whatever was irritating them. All this did was make it worse, and suddenly they began to leak. Alarmed, he made a small noise, rubbing harder and feeling the flood worsen. Now he was broken, too. Forte was going to be angry, and probably punish him again.

Blues glanced over at him and sighed, seeing the panic on the Wily bot's face. "It's okay... they're tears, Gospel." He grabbed an abandoned shirt off his dresser, and mopped his face gingerly, not wanting to upset the boy further. "Don't cry. He'll understand eventually." he soothed, tossing the shirt back onto the dresser and leading him to the bed, pulling the blankets back and patting the mattress. "Come on, it's late."

He pat his back lightly, throwing the covers over him and flopping down on the opposite side of the bed, flopping down. "You know, you should tell him how you feel. I know you can talk... You should at least try." Gospel shied away a little and he pat him lightly. "I won't make you, it's alright. I know you're scared... you can just tell him when you're ready. Or hell, tell me. I'm a pretty good listener."

Gospel nodded slowly with a little sniffle and curled up around his pillow quietly, resting his chin on it. Blues waited until his breathing slowed, letting him get settled, then reached up and turned the light out, settling under the covers with a small sigh. Gospel made a small noise, then shifted under the blankets completely, falling still.

Blues had been trying to leave things in Rock and Forte's hands, but it looked like he was going to have to step in at this point, while things with Gospel were still repairable. They might not have intended for it, but they were starting to seriously damage Gospel emotionally, and if it kept up, Gospel was probably going to end up resenting and maybe even hating Forte.

What they didn't understand was that Gospel didn't have the same protocols as before, and he didn't have to be as loyal to Forte anymore as he'd been in the past. They were just lucky enough that Gospel hadn't figured that out himself yet. But still, it was only a matter of time before things clicked.

Slowly Gospel shifted closer to the warmth next to him, not liking the dark. He kept closing in until he was touching Blues faintly, patting him lightly with his fingers, as though confirming his presence. He seemed to relax once he had achieved this, and settled more, drifting off to sleep slowly, leaving a hand on him lightly..

Blues sighed, he wasn't one to have his personal space invaded like that, but Gospel was probably used to constant contact from Forte, and if it helped quiet the boy down and get him to rest, he would put up with it for the time being. "Night, Gospel." he mumbled quietly, closing his eyes and drifting off slowly.

Roll sighed sighed inwardly to herself as she narrowly avoided a run in with Gospel for what felt like the twentieth time that morning, attempting to set the table. She had just finished brewing the first pot of coffee for the day when Blues had ambled down the stairs, half awake, and dropped Forte's still mostly asleep support unit off in the kitchen. The boy had followed him around like a shadow, sticking close to him.

He'd allowed it, seemingly not noticing how irritatingly close the boy was to him, then finally sat Gospel down at the table with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, stealing a mug for himself and leaving him in her care with some excuse about needing to shower. That was the last she'd seen of him, so he was either stuck in line waiting to bathe, or he had ditched the new robot with her. Now she was stuck babysitting.

Gospel seemed to sense that she wasn't entirely too fond of him, and had been trying to get on her good side all morning, much to her discontent. While she appreciated him making the attempt to get on with her better, she was ready to pull her hair out and really didn't want to make things worse by snapping at him. The harder he tried to help, the bigger the mess he left for her to contend with.

At this rate breakfast would be burnt before she could even plate it. She was constantly stopping to mop up spills, or stop him from breaking something. Where were Rock and Forte anyway? They should be the ones entertaining him. She decided to give him something to do to keep him out of her hair, at least until one of the boys showed their faces.

She turned to Gospel, giving him a sweet smile and hoping this worked. "Gospel? Do you want to help?" she asked, trying to think of a task even he could manage before she lost her temper with the support unit.

Gospel seemed to perk up at this, scurrying back over to her from the fridge. He'd been standing there awkwardly for a few moments now, trying to remain stationary and out of her hair, sensing her waning patience. He nodded a little, glad she was speaking to him, and stood awaiting orders patiently..

Roll dropped a stack of plates in his arms, resting some silverware on top. "Set the table, okay? Just try not to drop or break anything." She turned, leaving him to it, and turned back to the stove, rescuing the food for the third time that morning. She turned the heat down with a small sigh, turning back to the new robot.

Gospel was standing in front of the table, plates in his arms, trying to make sense of the confusion directions he had been given. Set the table. Where did she want him to set the table? And if she wanted him to move the table, why had she given him all these things to carry? He wondered if this was some kind of a test. If it was, he wasn't doing very well.

The Light girl was going to get mad if he didn't do something soon, idling made Dr. Wily very angry. At least his instructions made sense. He acted finally, putting the dishes down on a chair, then grabbed the table, lifting it and trying to move it out of the kitchen, finding it nearly impossible to do with the doorway so narrow.

Roll rescued the dishes from certain doom quickly, sighing softly and watching him a little sadly, realizing for the first time how confused and uncomfortable he must be. She went over to him, grabbing the end of the table and bringing it back to its original location. "You really have no idea what you're doing don't you?" She asked quickly, grabbing the dishes.

Gospel gave her a very guilty look and she felt even worse. She grabbed his hand gently, pulling him over to the table, and set one of the places carefully. "This is called setting the table. Every person gets one of these settings, see?" She had him do one, coaxing him through it and smiling when he finally had it. "There, perfect! I knew you could do it."

This cheered him up immediately, and he set the other plates up with equal attention, doing well with the exception on a few chipped plates. That was nothing new, however. Living in a house full of boys – robot boys no less, that was a regular occurrence. She made him a plate quickly, before he resumed following her around like a lost soul, and things went a lot more smoothly after that. Where were he boys, though?