Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Generally, Slick did not like uncertainty.  She was usually the one that, unbeknownst to others or not, fixed the outcome of certain things, races being her preferred medium.  Pay her some predetermined amount, and next thing you’d know, the engine of your choosing would crash and lose, ensuring your victory.  It was a good and lucrative (at least for her) system, and one that worked well- for a while.

But not now.  Now, she had crashed Rusty and then ended up in a crash herself- inadvertently exposing herself as the one behind all the other crashes.  And it had been a bad crash too- at least for her.  Greaseball and Electra had seemed slightly worse for wear, but not too bad off- but they were engines, built for high speeds and more tolerant of crashes.  Just look at Rusty- she had crashed him and he had been able to race again almost immediately- race and win, with Hydra’s help.

But she wasn’t an engine.  She wasn’t an engine, simply a tanker, who had taken the brunt of the crash and had no one come to check up on her, unlike the others.  Greaseball had Dinah, the well-meaning and easily forgiving dining car, and Electra had their Components, who had crowded around them, shooting venomous glares her way as the quartet had helped them up.  Porter and Lumber hadn’t been there to check on her, and it hurt but she understood- they would need to distance themselves from her less-than-legal activities and cut their losses.  It still hurt, but she got it.

So now here she was, camped out in a little visited corner of the yard, waiting for the festivities to die down so she could discreetly contact Porter and Lumber and fix herself up.  Her side was killing her, and her legs and head were no better- she hadn’t been able to hear anyone initially, and while her hearing had returned, there was still a slight ringing in her ears.  She was steadily leaking oil and hydraulic fluid, which was not a good combination- clearly several things had ruptured, and her injuries might be more severe than she had initially thought.

She heard wheels approaching, and froze.  She had chosen a hiding place (before her legs had become too hard to move) that was out of the way for a reason- no one should be able to find her unless they were purposely searching.  The wheels grew louder, and then stopped.  She was motionless, scarcely able to breathe.  It was probably someone who had taken a wrong turn, or had just gotten lost- she just had to stay still and quiet, and everything would be fine-

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little miss crash and burn.”  Inwardly, Slick groaned, and would have done so outwardly too, if it wasn’t becoming so hard to breathe.

“What do you want?”  It was one of Electra’s trucks, Joule- a dynamite truck, Slick thought she had said.  They had exchanged a few words in passing, during Slick’s dealings with Electra.  She had stood out to Slick, with a wicked smile that promised mischief and mayhem- something Slick had admittedly found very attractive.  The dynamite truck was still smiling, but to Slick it had taken a slightly sinister edge.  No, actually, that wasn’t her imagination.  That smile was definitely sinister.

“Didn’t see you at the party, figured I’d go looking for you and see what was going on.  You’ve got some stuff to answer for.”  Fuck.  Slick had no doubt what that ‘stuff’ was.

“I’m not giving back the money,” she said stubbornly, “they paid me to race with them, not to win.”  Joule grinned and nodded, looking unconcerned with her answer.  

“You’re not wrong, though between you and me I was hoping you were gonna say that.  I like your fire.”  She knelt down next to Slick, reaching out to grab her arm and hold the oil tanker in place when she tried to move away.  Slick’s side flared in pain at her movement, and she clapped a hand over her side.  The slight pressure helped, a bit.

“What do you want then?”  She asked again nervously, trying not to show it, and probably failing.

“You crashed Electra, babe,” said Joule, shrugging, “be glad I’m the one who found you.  Killerwatt is pissed.   If he had his way, you’d probably be taught a lesson you wouldn’t ever forget.”

“This isn’t punishment enough?”  She wheezed, coughing and feeling a little bit of oil spill out of her mouth.  Something internal had ruptured.  Fantastic, truly.  Joule watched with a cocked head and placed her hand over Slick’s own on her side, gentle at first and slowly increasing pressure until Slick was trying to twist away again, tears of pain stinging her eyes.

“Aw, does that hurt?”  Joule was smiling a little sadistically, but let up on the pressure, though she kept her hand pressed there, slightly harder than was necessary.

“Take a wild guess.”  Slick hissed, trying to keep her breathing under control.  With every inhale spikes of pain shot through her, originating from her chest but lancing down her back and into her shoulders.  Everything hurt, and Joule was not helping- which the dynamite truck doubtlessly knew.

“Don’t worry,” A hand stroked her forehead- a mockery of comfort but she still leaned into it slightly, inwardly cursing herself for seeking it.  Judging by Joule’s widening smile, she definitely noticed, “We’ll get you fixed up, good as new.” 

Absolutely not.  She had a pretty good idea as to who ‘we’ was- Electra’s repair truck (Weld? Wench?) and the others in the electric entourage, not to mention Electra themself.  It was also pretty clear that she wasn’t on the best terms with them- she didn’t want to know what their version of fixing her up would entail.

“I don’t want your help.” she gasped out, and Joule laughed.

“Smart move.  Unfortunately, you’re not really in a position to refuse.”  She delicately traced one of Slick’s (miraculously intact) hoses with a silver-polished finger, “You’re depressurizing fast, huh?  How long do you think you have before you pass out?  I can wait.”

Slick glared at the dynamite truck, who simply grinned back at her, wiggling her eyebrows.  It may have been her imagination but she could almost hear the electric hum from Joule- that high-pitched ring of working electronics within the truck’s frame.  Or it could just be her damaged ears.  It was anyone’s guess.

Unfortunately for her, Joule was right.  She was leaking heavily, and probably didn’t have very long left before she was forced into emergency stasis.  She had definitely miscalculated how much time she had- if she wanted to contact Porter or Lumber- hell, even Hydra or Momma at this point, she wouldn’t be picky- she had to do it now.

With her free hand, she tried to subtly reach for the radio clipped at her hip- if she could just get her microphone on, she could at least alert someone she needed help.  Unfortunately, Joule noticed, and grabbed her hand, staring at the oil truck’s hip and the device secured there.

“Oh, analog! Cute.”  Joule reached over her and quickly unclipped the radio from her side, tossing it further away as Slick tried in vain to stop her.  It hit the ground hard, and broke apart in several pieces, and Slick stared at it in horror before turning back to Joule.  The dynamite truck shrugged, looking anything but contrite.

“Sorry babe, but your options are limited.  As in, you have one- and you can either agree to me helping you or it’s just gonna happen.”

“They’d notice I was missing,” Slick argued weakly, grasping for any straw she could, “they’d come looking for me.”  They would- it just might be a while.  She was hoping Joule didn’t know that.

Joule sighed, and hummed contemplatively, nodding.  She crept even closer to Slick, gathering the oil truck into her arms, Slick unable to resist due to her vested interest in staying conscious and all energy being funneled towards that goal.  She hated how comfortable the dynamite truck’s embrace was, and hated herself for almost enjoying it, despite the circumstances.

“No one knows where you are, or how bad you’re hurt,” murmured Joule, tone soothing despite her harsh words, “it’ll be ages before somebody thinks to ask, and by then it’ll be pure luck if anyone finds you.  It was smart, to hide out here, but not too smart if you hide so well you’re never found.”

The dynamite truck was slowly carding her fingers through Slick’s hair, and Slick was finding it very hard to focus- a combination of Joule’s movements and her continued depressurization.  She couldn’t really feel her legs too well anymore, and she doubted she could stand.  She didn’t have too long before she would be completely at the dynamite truck’s mercy, and who knew what Joule would do then?  Something told her that this wouldn’t be the dynamite truck’s first time hiding a body, if she changed her mind and decided not to take Slick to her repair truck.  And if Slick wasn’t repressurized, she wouldn’t ever wake up.

A sharp yank on her hair forced her head back to look at Joule, who was staring down at her with a smug smile.  Her vision was beginning to tunnel- all she could see was the dynamite truck, holding her hair and jaw to keep her head upright.

“What do you say, oil slick?”  She was still smiling, but her eyes held a serious weight to them.  She wanted an answer from Slick, and she wanted it now.

“Fuck you,” she gave in a gasping whisper- it was all she could do to manage even that.  Most of her motor controls were nonfunctional at this point- it was solely Joule’s interference that kept her upright.  The dynamite truck chucked, and Slick felt a kiss at her hairline, and a subsequent sting- she had a cut there that she was only now finding out about- thanks, Joule.

“Maybe once you’re fixed,” said the truck lightly, “and, ya know, can actually move under your own power.  It’s a little known fact, but hate makes sex hotter.”  A tug at Slick’s hair again, and her vision swam as Joule maneuvered her head to nod, the dynamite truck laughing delightedly as she did so.

“Oh, what’s that?  You’re saying yes? I’m afraid I’ll need to hear it, Wrench is a stickler for explicit confirmation.”

Oh, Wrench.  That was the repair truck’s name, Slick thought distantly.  Wait- Joule was still staring at her, waiting for a response, and Slick had a good idea why.  It was less about actually giving her confirmation or consent- Joule had made it clear that it was going to happen either way- but more about the humiliation of having said yes.  But her head was swimming now, and it was hard to keep everything straight.  If it was going to happen regardless…

“Fine,” she gasped out, pain in every movement, “I- I consent to repairs.”

“Oh, wonderful!”  Joule pulled Slick in for a hug, and fuck that hurt, “I’d say you won’t regret this, but let’s face it- you probably will.”  The dynamite truck laughed, and pulled away from Slick.  She laid Slick back on the ground, the oil tanker too weak from depressurization to stop her.

She began to drag Slick away from the puddle of oil that the tanker had been lying in, uncaring of how the cement might cause further damage or new scratches- Slick supposed that Wrench could fix those too.  Once clear, Joule bent down to grab her, hands surprisingly gentle as she put one hand around her shoulders and another behind her knees.  She lifted her carefully, and through Slick’s blurred vision she glanced around.  Slick hoped for her own sake that someone would see Joule carrying her, and stop the truck- surely the party would be winding down, surely someone would see-

“We can take the long way- I’ll bet you don’t want anyone to see you like this,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, and Slick’s brief hope was promptly dashed, “you seem like the proud sort.”

Slick felt the faint vibrations as Joule began to move, and her vision began to darken in earnest.  She heard Joule chuckle above her and adjust her grip, holding her closer.

“The others will be so pleased you agreed,” the dynamite truck said cheerily as they moved, as if Slick had truly been given a choice, “You’ll owe me though, for helping you, but we can figure that out later.”  That wasn’t ominous at all, and if Slick had been able to respond she probably would have scoffed with derision.  As it was, she could no longer see, or even really feel anything, and she could feel herself beginning to properly pass out, entering stasis and now properly at the mercy of Joule and the other electrics.

“Don’t worry,” she heard as she floated off into unconsciousness, “we’ll take such good care of you.  We’ll get you all fixed up, good as new.”

And with that, Slick surrendered to the siren song of stasis, the sound of Joule humming as they moved through the yard the last thing she heard.  Then- nothing.  Nothing at all.

Chapter Text

Slick came to gradually as her systems repressurized- someone must have powered her pump back on, and fixed her ruptured hoses.  She was lying on some flat metal surface- uncomfortable and slightly cold.  Nothing hurt, which was good- either she had been fixed up, as Joule had said, or she simply could no longer feel the damage.  One of those was vastly preferable, but either seemed likely.

As she lay there, taking stock of how she felt, she became aware of feeling on one of her hands- someone had placed their hand in hers and was rhythmically tapping at the pads of her fingers: thumb to pinkie, and back again.  Someone was with her- Joule? Or perhaps one of the other shiny components.  She couldn’t hear anything however, and for a moment was worried that perhaps her hearing had gone again- what exactly had happened to her while she was unconscious?

However, as she began to panic in earnest she suddenly began hearing frantic beeping and motion above her, as a woman’s voice broke through the din.

“Joule, I said be gentle, what did you do?”

“Nothing! She just suddenly went haywire, that’s not my fault.”  Joule, next to her.  She was the one holding her hand.

Silence again for a moment, and the beeping suddenly ceased.  She was determined to remain still and appear unconscious to try to gather a little more information- the last thing she remembered was the world growing dark and Joule’s humming- when suddenly she felt something tickle at her nose, and without thinking, she flinched.

“There she is,” a voice cooed, and she opened her eyes to see Joule staring at her, holding some sort of fluffy feathery thing in one hand and her chin in her palm with the other, “welcome back, sleeping beauty.”

Slick scowled at her, and began to sit up.  Now that she was no longer in danger of depressurization, she had more energy to allocate towards being absolutely pissed.

“No thanks to you- ah!”  She had moved slightly wrong, and spikes of pain shot through her shoulders down her torso.

“Careful,” said another woman in white and silver, with a W on her belt- this must be Wrench- coming towards her and helping her sit up, mindful of the wires Slick realized were still attached to her body at certain points- either side of her neck right below her jaw, and at her waist, next to her tank hookups.  Joule had indeed done what she had promised, though whether that was a good thing or not what still up to interpretation.

Looking down, she was relieved to see that she was still in one piece- she had not trusted Joule, and consequently any of the electrics, angry as they were with her, to not take advantage of the fact that she was injured and indisposed.  But things had definitely changed.

She had internal damage, that much she remembered.  That and her tank had ruptured, as well as a few of her hydraulic hoses.  Someone had removed her upper plating and unzipped her yellow underlayer, below which she could see bandages covering her side and small silver staples along her opposite hip and trailing up her sternum.  The damage had been worse than she realized, she thought numbly, and was almost grateful to Joule for getting her to a repair truck.  Almost.

Her trousers were still on, but her exposed pipes had new silver fasteners on them, and the hoses that snaked up her back to her inset tank had been replaced with a slightly different model.  She had new silver detailing amongst her yellow and black plating, soldering where the damage had only been superficial as opposed to structural.

“I’d say I’m sorry about the mismatched colors, but they were all I had and I don’t actually care what you think.”  Wrench was direct and blunt, if a little rude about it.  “Congratulations, you’re an asset,” she finished with a scoff.  What the hell did that mean?

Joule slung an arm around Slick, who hissed as she was jostled roughly.  “You are adorable when you’re scared.  Don’t worry!  Wrench won't hurt you, even if she wants to.”

“Then what I’m hearing here is that I’m safer with her,” Slick finally found her voice and shot back at Joule, who snorted.

“Riiiiight.  Unrelated, but have you tried moving your legs yet?”

Slick stopped, and stared at the two of them: Wrench, unsmiling and waiting with arms crossed, and Joule, eyes sparkling.  Cautiously, she tried to give an experimental kick.  Nothing happened.  She tried again, still nothing.  The monitor she was hooked up to had begin to beep again, faster as she tried a third time to no avail.  Panicked, she looked up at the repair truck again, who was watching with a detached sort of interest.

“What did-”

“Relax, I just disconnected your servos, you’re fine,” said Wrench, who looked like she couldn’t care less about her distress.

“Well can you reconnect them?”

“Eventually.” That was not reassuring in the slightest.  Damn it, Joule was right- she was not safer with Wrench, who looked like if it weren’t for her oath to do no harm, Slick would definitely be a pile of scrap right now.

Wrench turned away, gathering up the last of her instruments and placing them back in their places along the wall, where she had a peg board with various types of tools- screwdrivers and wrenches in all sizes, as well as boxes of bolts and screws.  Finally, she turned back towards them, wiping her hands on a clean rag.

“Keep an eye on her,” Wrench said to Joule, and Slick felt a twinge of indignation- both from being talked about as if she wasn’t there, and being treated like a child.  Joule gave a small nod of acquiescence, and Wrench turned, skating out of the room, the heavy reinforced steel door slamming behind her.

It was now just Slick and Joule within the workshop, they dynamite truck retaking her seat next to the oil tanker.  Joule didn’t say anything, just laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them, staring at Slick and smiling expectantly.  Slick didn’t know why- was she expecting a thank you? “Thank you Joule for waiting until I was on the brink of passing out to force me into getting fixed up by a repair truck who hates me” didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

Maybe, now that she had been fixed back up, she could plead her case.  All of the electrics had been very angry after the crash, but maybe a little time had allowed them to cool down.  Maybe she could explain that she really hadn’t meant for this to happen.

“I didn’t mean to crash them,” she started desperately, “it was an accident-”

Joule cut her off, nodding into her laced fingers and smiling crookedly, “Of course not,” she said reassuringly, “You would never.  But see-” here she winced a little “-Volta and I did a little digging while you were out, and we found some pretty damning information.  You have a history of pretty nasty crashes.  How can we believe you, with the evidence so stacked?”

Joule’s words were honeyed, and reasonable- if Slick saw her rap sheet, she wouldn’t trust her either.  But they weren’t true, and Joule's expression suggested she knew that already, and simply didn’t care.

Slick didn’t want to be here anymore, in this cold silver and chrome workshop where she was most definitely not among friends.  She wanted her legs back- she wanted to be back in her shed with her brothers, patching herself up and laying low after the championship as she had done after races past.  Not with the pretty- and pretty scary- truck in front of her, who flipped between mocking care and sadistic amusement.

“I want to go home.”  She whispered, hating herself for her weakness.  But she did.  She had wanted to since the crash.

“No can do, I’m afraid,” Joule said, shrugging, “your contract was pretty insistent on a live-in position.” Her what?

“My what?”

“Your contract!”  Joule produced a tablet, upon which was clearly a work contract of sorts.  She handed it to Slick, who began to scroll through the long document, horror growing the more she scanned it.

“It’s pretty comprehensive- Volta did a good job.  Limited employment as a member of Electra’s entourage- officially in the capacity of a trial oil tanker.  Unofficially, you do whatever we want- crashing other trains does seem like a specialty of yours, so maybe a fair amount of that.  Consider it how you repay your debt for repairs, and how you make up for that crash you definitely didn’t mean to cause.”

Far, far too late, it occurred to Slick that she had gambled far more than she could afford to lose- like she had been playing with fire and realized after the fact that her hands were covered in third-degree burns.  This was so, so bad.

“You can’t- you can’t just do that!”  She sputtered, worried and indignant.

“Can and did babe,” Joule shrugged with a grin, “or did you forget we said Electra is rich, hot and powerful?”  She emphasized the last word, and Slick felt a sinking feeling within her- she and the other freights had heard Electra’s introduction, but had simply laughed about it- they hadn’t taken it seriously.

“I never signed anything, there’s no way anyone would believe this-”

Joule’s silver brows raised in mock confusion, and Slick got the distinct impression she was being toyed with.  She looked from Slick to the tablet with inquisitive eyes, scrolling down to the bottom of the contract.

“I mean, this sure looks like your signature, right?  Your Momma sure thought so.  She sends her love, by the way.”

That made Slick pause.  They had talked to Momma about this? And the steamer was- was just okay with it, with her taking on a job without warning and suddenly no longer being around?

Maybe Momma was angrier with her than she thought.  She shivered slightly.  She might be Momma’s daughter, but Rusty was the only other steamer in the yard, and everyone knew he was Momma’s favorite.

Stars, she wanted Momma.  She wanted the steamer to tell her everything was going to be okay, and that nothing was truly so terrible that she couldn’t figure it out.  Momma had always had faith in Slick’s intelligence.  She could use that faith right now.

She stared down at her currently non-functional legs, trying not to cry.  She should never have contacted Electra, never agreed to race with them, no matter how much money was on the line.

“Oh, hey,” Joule’s arms softly encircled her, for the first time not seeming to try to cause pain, and despite herself Slick leaned into Joule’s embrace as the dynamite truck spoke softly, “don’t cry.  It’s not forever, just a little while.  

“Trust me,” she said, suddenly serious, and Slick turned to her, Joule for the first time not smiling and looking as serious as she had ever seen the dynamite truck, “it could definitely be worse.  I’ve seen what happens when people try to cross Electra.  You’re getting off easy.”  She carefully stroked her hand down one of Slick’s arms,  “You’re welcome for that, by the way,” she said, suddenly cheerful again and Slick blinked.  This conversation was taking so many different turns, her brain was struggling to keep track of all of the things she needed to be upset about.

“You’re welcome?  What on earth do I have to thank you for?”

“Your contract!  I was your representative- all things considered, it’s a really good deal.  Room and board, a bonus for every train crushed, fair wages- especially considering the circumstances.”

“Why?  Why would you do that?”  Why would she do any of that?  Joule was angry, smiling and sadistic and gleeful at every piece of pain Slick had shown.  Why do anything for her- why do anything that could be considered a kindness?

A hand wrapped around the base of her skull, and fingers pressed into her jaw, forcing Slick to turn her head towards Joule, until they were nose to nose.

“I told you before- I like your fire.  And your fight.  I want to see what else you can do.”  Quickly, before Slick had the chance to react, Joule leaned in and kissed her: a quick press of lips that had Slick immediately doubting whether or not she was hallucinating as Joule pulled back.  The dynamite truck was studying her face again intently; evidently she liked whatever it was she saw, for Joule’s face broke out into a wide smile.

“Given the right…guidance, of course.”  She tugged on Slick’s hair again, winding her fingers through the oil truck’s short yellow and black locks.  “I don’t think I could stop Killerwatt if you managed to crash Electra again.”  Joule frowned contemplatively.  “I don’t think I’d want to either.  But hey!” She brightened, “You’ve got a debt to repay and a crash to make up for.”  She pushed away from the table Slick was stuck on, and stood.

“Hang tight, I’ll be back in a couple of hours to get you to your new room.  Maybe take a nap,” Joule said with semi-serious concern, “you are still recovering, after all.”

She turned and skated to the door, turning back as she opened it to smile at Slick teasingly.

“I think this is the start  of a beautiful new relationship.”  She grinned, and spun on her wheels- Slick, still shell-shocked, could only watch as the door slammed shut again.

And now, it was just her, alone in the workshop.  Alone, stars only knew exactly where, for stars only knew how long, amongst a group of people that she now worked… with?  For?  Who knew.  Amongst a group of people that definitely didn’t like her, whatever else- with the possible exception of a certain dynamite truck, who wore her anger and enthusiasm on her sleeve equally- often at the same time.

Gingerly, she laid back down on the table and threw an arm over her eyes, groaning.  She might as well do as Joule suggested and get some sleep; something told her she would need it.  That same something was also responsible for telling her exactly how screwed she was, and she agreed.  She was totally, completely, and irrevocably fucked.

Chapter Text

Slick had spent the night in what was apparently her room now- it was sparse except for an unexpectedly comfortable bed (she was almost convinced that they would have tried to make this as uncomfortable as possible for her, but apparently not), a closet for her plating and a few extra under layers, and a small vanity.  The entire room screamed minimalism- the pieces of furniture were clearly well made but relatively featureless, and done in various shades of greys and whites and blues.  

She lay on the bed she had been unceremoniously deposited on- Wrench had not felt inclined to reenable her servos, so movement was very limited.  Joule had been the one to carry her to her room, something that the dynamite truck didn’t seem to mind but Slick definitely did.

Technically, she could move- she could in theory crawl using her arms to propel herself but unfortunately Joule had been right- she was the proud sort, and while she had very little dignity left she would not sacrifice it by being caught dragging herself down the hallway like a fish on the line.  She also had no idea how to get out of this place.

So instead she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to come.  When it did, it was fitful- she was on edge, and every creak or new sound had her jolting wide awake, worried that she would open her eyes and find someone leaning over her in the dark.  But she never did, and the night passed without true incident.

The next morning had come far too soon, Joule and Wrench barging in (well, Joule barged, Wrench just sort of… calmly glided) for the latter to reconnect her servos and the former to haul her up, and tell her that they were going to get her into uniform today.

She was led (read: all but hauled) to another room within whatever labyrinthine structure they were currently in, that was a beautician's dream- one full of different articles of armor, makeup, styling equipment- even a corner with a curtain to serve as a changing room. Slick didn’t know what half of the things in here were for- she was freight for stars sake- the most she ever did was her yellow-toned makeup every few days when it needed retouching (synthetic skin was kinder on the wear of it than organic, but it still had to be reapplied).

A truck- (Volta, as indicated by the letter on his pack) was already in there, picking out pieces from a clothes rack on the side.  Wrench skated over to him and handed him a small back of metallic somethings, which he began to polish with a small red rag.  Joule, for her part, pushed Slick into a chair, much to the oil truck’s indignation- but as she started to scramble up to round on the dynamite truck who had skated to what appeared to be the makeup corner, she was stopped by the fourth component, Killerwatt, appearing at her side, looking down at her with folded arms.  The message was clear- don’t move.

Wrench, having done what she was presumably asked to do, took one last disdainful glance at Joule, and skated out the room.  Slick was glad to see her go- the repair truck and her ease and willingness to literally stop her legs from working what the fuck scared her slightly.

Volta skated back from the clothes rack he had been rummaging through, with a pile of silver plating, and a new version of underlayer for the plating- all black, it looked like, as opposed to Slick’s current black pants and yellow zip-front top.  Great.

Does the plating come in gold?” She asked, trying for a bad joke to ease the tension, “that’s really more my color.”

She was met with hostile stares from Killerwatt and Volta, and she shrank back down, trying to think of anything that wasn’t this moment right here.  She heard a snort however, and looked up to see Joule covering her mouth with her hand as both Killerwatt and Volta looked at her with mixed expressions- Volta with one raised eyebrow and Killerwatt with two.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Joule, who still seemed to be fighting off laughter,  “I’ll be outside.”  She turned and skated out of the room, and Slick resisted the urge to call her back.  Even though Joule was arguably the friendliest of the components, Joule was not her friend- no matter how sweet or reassuring she could be one moment with a kiss- she could still be gleefully ruthless as she told the oil truck about the contract she was now under and the choices that were taken for her.  

But, she thought as she looked towards the two trucks now in the room, she would still have preferred the dynamite truck stay, if only to be a buffer against these two who clearly despised her and everything she had done.

“Just so we’re clear,” Volta began, leaning forward to pinch imaginary lint off of her shoulder as she leaned away, “Joule might be fond of you,” he began, then looked to where Killerwatt stood.

“The rest of us don’t share that sentiment.”  Killerwatt said from the door, arms crossed and glaring at her menacingly.  She swallowed, and nodded quickly.  This wasn’t a surprise- Joule had said as much when she had found her- Slick didn’t want to know what exactly Killerwatt had wanted to do, but clearly he wasn’t the only one who might feel a little more angrily about the whole thing than Joule’s happy-go-hurty attitude.

“Alright,” Volta was saying to Killerwatt, ignoring Joule completely, “let’s start with the hair and go from there.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” she asked, reaching up to touch it nervously.  Volta stopped, and gestured between himself and Killerwatt as if it should be obvious.

“The uniform had a pretty strict color palette that you don’t currently match,” he said in a tone that was struggling to not say duh , “we’re here to fix that.”  Oh.  Oh.

Slick tensed in the chair.  She should have anticipated this, but she hadn’t realized that working for Electra meant that in order to fit the full uniform a more permanent change might need to be made.

“The black will be too difficult to take straight to platinum blonde but the yellow we can do pretty easily.”  Volta continued, and Slick’s head jerked up, “as for the style-”

“Hold the fuck up, you are not bleaching the yellow out,” she spat venomously, and Volta sneered in response.

“Yes we fucking are,” he said, getting far too close to the chair she sat in for her comfort, “yellow isn’t part of the uniform, and if you’re employed by Electra, you are going to look the part .”  This last part was spat venomously at her- his patience was growing thin.  Unfortunately, so was hers.

“Like hell-” she sprung up from her seat and was practically nose to nose with the freezer truck, fully expecting to get into it in earnest, but was cut off by Killerwatt.

“This is happening whether you want it to or not.”  The security truck had skated forward a few feet, and was getting closer to grabbing range,  “But I’ll let you choose: do you want me to ask Wrench to turn your pump off while it does, or not?” he spoke evenly, with a bored tone to his voice- one that said that it made no difference to him how this played out.  Slick gritted her teeth, and Volta’s eyes narrowed.  She knew what her choice was.  

Slowly, she sat back down on the chair, and watched Volta raise his chin slightly as she seethed.  He turned away to one of the other counters, slipping on a pair of gloves and grabbing his supplies- mixing bowls and brushes and stars knew what else.

“Hold still, tanker- a bleach job done poorly is just going to be bad for both of us.”  That was the last thing he said to her as he worked, and she could only sit there silently as he worked, blaming the sting in her eyes on the fumes of the chemicals, and nothing else.

Volta was efficient- clearly she was not his first victim, she thought, sitting there only distantly registering things through a veil of this isn’t happening .  He worked quickly, occasionally exchanging a few words with Killerwatt, but for the most part the process passed in tense silence as he bleached and dyed and styled until he was satisfied.  Finally, after what felt like hours (and honestly could have been, Slick had no idea), he deemed her done, and sent her to the little changing corner to slip on the new underlayer.  She slipped it on as quickly as possible- there was no mirror here, so she had no idea what she looked like now- and headed back out, beginning to put on the foreign silver plating.

Joule wandered back in as she was working on clipping on the silver forearm plating, Joule heard another set of wheels leave the room- Killerwatt, presumably.

“Oh, nice work Volta, she looks great!”  Slick’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing, looking down at the stupid plating that wouldn’t fasten -

Hands entered her vision, deftly snapping the plating on with practiced ease, and she looked up with a glare to see Joule looking at her with a small smile.

“Do you want to see?”  she said, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Fine.”  Yes, she did want to see, very much in fact- but she would rather die than admit it.  Joule smiled wider, and spun her carefully to a full sized mirror that had definitely either been covered or moved while Slick was trying to get the plating on.

For a moment, all she could do was stare.  She didn’t look bad- not at all, really- just… different.

She was wearing a uniform identical to the other components, with an “S” in glowing ultraviolet on her belt.  Her plating details- the only part of the component uniform that were unique to the person- were silver triangular pieces that looked like her warning symbol, sans the yellow and black that normally adorned them.  Instead, the exclamation marks were engraved on.

And her hair- she had known it would be different but was unprepared for how much different it would be- the once yellow-colored sections had been bleached and dyed to the platinum white of the others, and were gathered atop her head in a faux mohawk style.  The sides of her hair had been braided close to her skull, streaks of that same platinum blond wove through the braids, which led upwards into the white curls on her head.  

She was grateful that Volta had let her keep the length of her hair, she thought distantly- she would not have liked the close-cropped all over blonde look the others favored.  But that was about it.  She missed her color.

And it was awful all the same because it still looked good, Volta had done a good job- but it wasn’t her . She hadn’t wanted it.  She didn’t even look like herself anymore.

When she was with the freight, it was clear to everyone that she was part of a matching set with the others, but each of them had stood out with a different color- hers a bright yellow that she loved, one of her favorite colors.  But now… she was white and silver everywhere.  She had no color anymore.

“Oh wonderful!” Joule said, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around the oil tanker’s waist, Slick still too much in shock to stop her, “now you look just like us.”  And she did.  If Slick had seen herself in passing, she probably would have thought she looked identical to the others.  A Component.  Which, for all intents and purposes, she was now.

“Can I,” she swallowed, anticipating the answer but hoping fervently she would be wrong, “can I have my symbol? On my belt?” Her brothers- Porter, Lumber, and yes, even Hydra- each had a symbol that corresponded to them.  She wanted to keep hers, if possible.  A little piece of her family.

Silence, and Slick saw Joule look to Volta with raised eyebrows.  Surprisingly, he seemed to be considering it.  Finally, with a twist to his mouth, he nodded.

“Fine, but only your belt.  Your tank stays as is.”  So her tank would have an “S” on it like the others had their initials; that was fine.  She couldn’t see that one anyways- she wanted to be able to see the triangular warning symbol when she needed to.  That was fine.

Absently, she rubbed a finger across the metallic triangular pieces on her shoulders. A quick turnaround, she thought, considering how sudden her employment had been.

“Wrench knows how to machine pieces in her spare time,” Joule said proudly, correctly guessing what Slick was thinking about, “her workshop is incredible.” 

“You’ve got it from here, I assume?” asked Volta, eyeing Slick as if she was something unpleasant he had found on the bottom of his skate, and yet again not speaking to her.

“Yup!” Joule said cheerfully, skating over to the makeup corner and beginning to grab various pots and brushes.  Volta watched her do this, then turned and left the room without speaking again.

Joule turned back to Slick, holding a small box filled with the things she had grabbed and smiling, always smiling.

“Now come on, I’m gonna do your makeup.”  Slick realized belatedly that that had been another change in the woman she had seen in the mirror- presumably when Wrench had fixed her up, someone had removed her yellow and orange makeup- she no longer had any of it on.  The thought made her feel empty, in a way.  But as for new makeup- the silver?  Slick could probably figure it out herself.  

“I don’t really-”

“No, I’m gonna.”  Joule had a glint in her eye that suggested she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Slick sighed in defeat.  Maybe getting pointers from someone would be a good move.

“…Okay.”

Joule smiled, and took Slick’s hands, the oil tanker allowing herself to be pulled towards the door.  The two headed out into the hall, until they once again reached Slick's door.  Joule opened it with a smile and gesture for her to enter first, and the two components headed into the room right before the door closed with a click.

Chapter Text

Back in her room, Slick was beginning to see a theme- all of the while and grey and chrome and how it felt like they leeched the color out of anything within its walls.  Okay, maybe that was a little maudlin.  She was upset about her hair, sue her.

Joule didn’t seem to mind, grabbing Slick’s hand and hauling her over to the vanity, in front of which were now two chairs- Joule must have brought one in while she was gone. 

“Take a seat, take a seat!” 

 If only Joule’s enthusiasm was infectious, she thought as the dynamite truck pushed her back so she fell into one of the chairs.

“Hey- I’m still injured,” she complained.  Even though she had felt no pain (Wrench appeared to be a supremely talented repair truck, which honestly tracked), she was still going to mention that- Joule seemed to need a reminder.  The dynamite truck paused from where she was placing all of the makeup needed, and looked at her. 

“Did that hurt?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Liar.”  She said, taking a seat next to Slick and turning Slick’s chair to face her own, “you’re fine.”

Slick was about to retort- maybe it had hurt, Joule didn’t get to decide she was lying about that, when Joule moved unexpectedly.

Fast as lightning, her hand darted out, and Slick flinched.  It wasn’t that she was afraid Joule would hit her, per se, but- she didn’t know what to expect.  But Joule’s hand only landed on the side of her jaw, thumb on her cheek closer to her ear, the dynamite truck watching her carefully.  Slick bristled, fully prepared to defend herself until she was blue in the face, but the dynamite truck said nothing, only turned towards the vanity slightly to unscrew a bottle of liquid silver pigment.

“We’ll start with your brows- you already have such nice ones!”  She brushed the silver over Slick’s eyebrows, holding the oil taker’s head in place.  It was slightly cool, and itched a little as it dried.  

Joule moved onto her eyes next, the silver serving as eyeshadow and adding thick black lines of eyeliner, turning Slick’s head this way and that for the best angle to do her work.

As she did, Slick couldn’t help but marvel at how gentle she was.  Joules hands were soft, guiding her with small touches.  Slick was used to the freight yard, where the majority of the touches she experienced was roughhousing with her brothers- jabs to the arms or teasing punches, maybe roughly slinging an arm around another in some small form of hug- but nothing like this.  Nothing like the soft drag of Joule’s fingertips over her skin, touches that made her breathing hitch- no one had ever done this before.

But- no.  Wait.  She was still in enemy territory here, surrounded by electrics who didn’t like her and had essentially kidnapped her, who had made it clear that they didn’t like her, who had made her change so much about herself- and all of this was before she had even seen Electra again, the engine elusive ever since the crash.  And Joule was perhaps the hardest to properly read, as aggressively cheerful and borderline friendly as she had been.  Slick had to stop and remind herself- Joule hated her as much as the others did, she just had a different way of showing it.  She couldn’t enjoy this, any of this- it wasn’t real.  It was nice though.

Joule drew back, satisfied at her work at last, and screwed the top back on the silver tube. 

“Alright, now for your contour!  It’s a few different colors but it ends up this dark brown color, nearly black.”

She picked up a tissue, folding it several times and placing it against Slick’s cheek before opening a palate of neutrals and dipping her brush in.

She started on the contour, brushing powder from Slick’s check to her temple.  Finally, as she switched colors, Slick asked the question that had been bugging her since Joule had begun.

“Why did you insist on doing this?  We both know I can figure it out.”  Joule met her eyes, and nodded.

“Of course you can, but i actually wanted to discuss something with you,” Joule said cheerfully.  Slick felt the tickle of the brush across her cheek.

“Which is?”

“What you owe me, of course.”  It was only Joule’s continued hand on Slick’s face that stopped Slick from jumping up at that.  As it was, she still bristled.

“I’m already here and trapped in your stupid contract, I thought that’s how I pay off the stupid debt or revenge or whatever-“

“Yeah, yeah,” Joule, waved her hand, “But who found you and made sure you didn’t lose pressure alone where no one would find you?” Now that was a gross simplification of events if Slick had ever heard it, “and who was the one who made sure your contract was actually pretty fairly written?” Ok, that one may have held more merit.  Slick sighed in defeat.

“What do I owe you?”

“Hmmmm…” Slick felt the tickle again as Joule swiped silver again, first over either of her cheekbones, then the tip of her nose, and then finally under her eyes as Joule used another brush to add even more silver, all the while considering Slick's question.

“You owe me…your honesty.”. Slick blinked.  Her honesty.  She was very good at lying- you had to be, given her side job.  She hadn’t gotten away with everything she had by telling the truth.  Her surprise must have shown in her face, for Joule smiled, and continued.

“See, I have a talent for knowing when people are lying- it’s one of the reasons Electra hired me.  No one can lie to them while I’m there.  And I think you’re a liar by nature Slick- you’d have to be, considering what you do.

“So, you can call it punishment, or curiosity, or a debt to repay- it’s what I want.” Joule said, shrugging, “Lie to everyone else, see if I care. Not to me.”

There was no way that was true, but Joule definitely seemed to believe it, placing her hands now on Slick’s knees and leaning forward ever so slightly.

“So,” she said, placing a little more weight on Slick’s knees, “let’s try this out: what do you think of your new look?”

“It’s fine.” She wasn’t about to tell Joule anything else, but Joule’s mouth twisted and shook her head.

“Liar.  The truth, please.”  Fine.

“Volta did a good job.”  That was the truth- something she actually objectively did think. But…

“But?”

“But it’s not me.”  That was the problem, and Joule sighed and gave her a sympathetic look.

“No, I suppose not.  The yellow was quite striking.  If it’s any consolation, the silver’s not half bad.”  It wasn’t, but Slick supposed this was Joule’s way of making her feel better.

“So!” Joule clapped her hands lightly, “That’s what I want. The truth, when I decide you can’t lie.”

Slick paused, considering it.  There wasn’t truly much to consider- there weren’t any other options, and no way that she could see to her Joule to change her mind.  The dynamite truck was still watching her, waiting.

“Do we have a deal?”  She asked, with a smile that said she already knew Slick’s answer, and Slick gritted her teeth.

“Fine.” She gritted out, yes.”

“Wonderful!” Joule said, smiling brightly, “now, we just need to make it official.”

“A contract I actually get to sign this time?” Slick snidely asked.  She wouldn’t put it past Joule to already have it written up.

“No silly.  With a kiss.”  What.

“What?”  Joule was nodding, looking very serious and (in Slick's opinion) entirely too pleased with herself.  

“It’s tradition to seal a deal with a kiss,” she said as if it were an obvious and a perfectly reasonable course of action that was being proposed.  Slick said nothing, only gaped at her.  This sort of thing happened in fairytales, which this was not.

“One little kiss.  Really, would it be such a hardship?” Joule asked the question, and Slick looked away.  She knew it wasn’t, stupidly attractive truck-

“Fine, but I’m not gonna enjoy it.”  Slick muttered, finally looking up at the dynamite truck, who was smiling like a cat who got the cream.

“That’s the last lie I’ll let you get away with.” Said Joule with a smug smile, and leaned in before Slick could formulate a retort.

Joule was-

Kissing Joule was-

Stars damn it, Slick hadn’t been imagining it from last time- Joule was a good kisser.  Oh, this sucked.

The dynamite truck’s lips were soft, a gentle press that was sweet and yielding, and so different from others Slick had kissed.  Usually her partners had been forceful and demanding, wanting what she could give and taking what they could- and she hadn’t minded, it had been its own brand of fun.  But Joule kissed her without any of that, not deepening the kiss, just… there. Closing a deal so sweetly that Slick had to swallow around a sudden lump in her throat. 

Joule pulled back, breathing slightly harder than she had prior, a hand on slick’s jaw, just. Staring.  Her eyes were dark- practically all pupil, with little of the amber iris to be seen as she looked into Slick’s own eyes.

“Huh,” she murmured, and her hand tightened minutely on Slick’s chin.

“What?” Slick asked, a little defensively- if Joule said she was a bad kisser (categorically untrue!) that would be crossing a line Slick hadn’t known she had until right now.

“Nothing, nothing,” she said, blinking once, twice, and then shaking her head, “now, onto lipstick.  That transferred some, but we’ll still need to apply more for the full effect.”  She grabbed the small black tube from the table and opened it, turning back to Slick who was still reeling from how quickly Joule had dashed from topic to topic.

“Open,” Joule used her thumb to pull down on her lips, carefully and methodically applying the black lipstick.  Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, and Slick wanted to squirm under the scrutiny, but Joule’s hand held her in place.

Finally, she drew back, and handed Slick a piece of tissue.

“Now blot,” Slick did as she was asked, as Joule grabbed a small pot of white powder- setting power, Slick knew, to keep her makeup smear proof, come heat or cold or rain or wind.  Joule applied it with the pads of her fingers carefully, smiling wildly once she was finished.

“Ta da!” She spun Slick toward the vanity, and for the first time Slick saw who she was now.  It was remarkable how much a difference in style could make a person, she thought, for while it was still undeniably her, it didn’t look at all like she was used to.

Her new black and blonde hair, in its braided fohawk style, and her new silver details.  The silver markings under her eyes, her silver brows- she looked so similar to the others, but even then she still was another. An Other, with her majority black hair and her skin, sun-changed from working long hours outdoors- even done up as she was, she was still a poor imitation of the other, proper components, and she couldn’t decide whether to take comfort in her differences or despair.

“What do you think?  Be honest.”  Joule emphasized her last sentence, placing her hands on Slick’s shoulders and her chin on Slick’s head.

“I…” she swallowed.  Honest. “I don’t look like me.”  Joule was nodding, looking unsurprised by the statement.

“You’re a component now.  Slick, Electra’s oil truck- it has a nice ring to it, I think.”  She squeezed Slick’s shoulders in what was probably meant to be a comforting manner- it didn’t translate.

“Speaking of Electra, we should get going.  You need to meet your new boss.”  Slick looked at her through the mirror.  Joule’s smile was tinged with glee now, presumably at the prospect of Slick getting eviscerated by the Electric engine.

Slick took a breath, and stood, skating to the door before she could think too hard about what that meant for her.

“To the gallows,” she muttered, and heard Joule’s laughter behind her.

“That’s the spirit.”

Chapter Text

Joule was strangely silent as the two of them made their way through the long halls, which Slick was weirdly grateful for.  She was trying to get her bearings in this labyrinthine space, one that clearly was not at her home yard.  She had been taken here sometime, while she was powered down, but it was something she could not afford to dwell on- too much was happening, and she already knew she had been kidnapped- frankly the more concerning question she had was ‘how long had she been powered down?’ She wouldn’t put it past them to do it for longer than was necessary simply out of spite.

Joule was humming softly as they went, a jaunty tune that seemed out of place among the cold impassivity of the building.  Her eyes were bright and lively, carefree in a way Slick currently did not share and definitely envied.  Finally, they arrived at a large door- grey like so many others, but riveted and seemingly of great importance.

Now remember,” Joule said, grasping her hands and pulling her closer, “none of us particularly like you or want you here, so the best you can hope for is not pissing them off entirely.  I don’t particularly believe in you, but I hope you surprise me.”  She finished this all with a wink and a smile, bright despite the message conveyed, and Slick stared at her, baffled.  

“Is that your version of a pep talk?”  She asked the dynamite truck incredulously.  Joule nodded, looking very proud of herself.

“Honestly the ‘pep talk’ part was really more for me, it’s a list of reminders for you.”  She smiled, grinning with all of her teeth- that knife’s edge of smiling and sinister,  “now come on!  You’re late!”

Before Slick had a chance to point out that if anyone was running late, it was Joule- no one had told the oil tanker that there was a schedule to keep to, this couldn’t possibly be her fault- Joule pulled open the door and pulled her inside.  The door shut behind them with a clang, and for a moment all Slick could do was stare.

This room, unlike the wing she had been in before, was stone and marble- most definitely older than the halls she had passed through.  There were high vaulted ceilings, and windows, high up that allowed the golden sun to stream in.  There was color, too- the marble on the bottoms of the walls was a dark green that met with the wood accents nicely, and black stone pillars rose to the high ceiling.  The floor was some sort of mosaic- tiles of another, lighter green and sandy brown, and ruddy red.  It was beautiful.  The entire place seemed like some form of refurbished train station, which made sense, she supposed.  Electra seemed like the sort who would be rich enough to purchase one slated for shutdown and spruce it up.  She hated to admit it, but the place was nice.

It was a lot like a central hub of a sort, reminding her of a train’s inner pump and hydraulic lines.  Activity was present everywhere, despite the fact that the only people she had seen were the electrics.  Wrench seemed to be overseeing a veritable army of… were those robotic rats? That swept along the floor, cleaning various piles of detritus that were clearly set out as some form of experimentation.  Volta was seated on a plush armchair, legs slung over the side of it as he penciled out something in what looked like a ledger, occasionally opening a nearby book to consult for something or other.

Killerwatt stood near the far wall, upon which was a large painting of the country with various dots on it- cities? Stations? His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood at attention, deep in conversation with the glittering silver and blue figure who turned towards the two components as they had entered the room.

“Slick.”

It was Electra of course, looking far better than she had seen them last- pristine and perfect, almost as though the crash had never happened.  Though, she supposed, neither did she, thanks to Wrench’s handiwork.  Nothing hurt, and frankly the repairs had left her feeling better than she had in a long time.  Wrench had done a good job, even if she would never say that to the repair truck.

Electra skated forward, waving Killerwatt off; the security truck skated over to Volta, and Joule joined the pair, reaching for the freezer truck’s pencil and pouting when her hand was slapped away.  It left Slick alone with the electric engine as they drew nearer, finally stopping a few feet away.  For a moment, they stared at her, eyes scanning lazily over her in a way that made her feel small.

“You almost look the part,” they finally said mildly, and she scowled.

“You almost gave me a choice.”  Screw Joule’s warning, she wasn’t just going to let herself be pushed around.

They smiled, but there was no humor in those eyes.  She had the sense they were trying to make her feel as small as possible- unfortunately it was working.

“Do you know why you’re here?”  They asked her, still staring with a detached curiosity- as if they did want to hear her answer, but weren’t terribly concerned with what she had to say on the matter.

“Because you needed a scapegoat and are too much of a coward to take responsibility for the fact that you crashed.”  They laughed lightly at her words, though their eyes glittered darkly.  They were not happy.

“You’re here because you were directly involved in causing two of the most decorated racing engines in the country to crash.  You’re here because I wouldn’t let that stand.”  Right, of course.  That was entirely her fault- not at all in part due to the fact that they had been concerned they couldn’t beat a steam engine.  Slick had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as they continued, “you’re here because with a history like yours, you can’t be left to your own devices, and while the ‘pride of the union pacific’” -a mocking tone- clearly Greaseball- “may be willing to let that slide, I am not.”

“For the last time, it was an accident- ”

“It doesn’t really matter what happened,” they raised a hand, effectively cutting her off, “We say you crashed me, that’s what happened- there are several witnesses who can attest to the fact.”  Witnesses, bribed passersby, the difference meant little.

“And either way- there was a crash, you were involved, and you’ve been paid to do it before,” they stared down at her, and she glared back, unashamed.  It was ugly work, but it paid well and she was good at it- let them think what they liked.

“Those are the definite, provable facts- so you are going to stay here, where we can keep an eye on you, and you don’t have the opportunity to crash myself or anyone I don’t decide you crash.

“Last time we worked together as partners,”  they said, and their eyes fixed on her as though she was a small thing, no more than an irksome nuisance or an errant problem to be quashed, “let me be very clear: we are not equals now.  You work for me , and you do whatever I tell you to.”  They were waiting for a response, and she gritted her teeth and nodded. They smiled slightly: a satisfied sort of smile and altogether unpleasant one.

“You will go nowhere unaccompanied.  You will do nothing unmonitored.  If you have nothing to do, you will stay with someone while they work.  If you’re bored while that happens, all the better.  You are not trusted.  You are not liked.  This is about reminding you who’s in charge, and making sure you never forget.”

Slick tried to focus on how angry the words made her, rather than how scared and upset they did.  How dare they do this? She already regretted getting involved with them, even before Joule had shown up- she had gotten hurt, worse than she ever had before, and then the dynamite truck had shown up with an off she couldn’t refuse.  And now she was here - stars, she almost wished Joule was still the one explaining all of this to her- she at least had been slightly more considerate of Slick's feelings on the matter.

Fine.  Fine.   If this was what was going to happen, she could do it.  She was tough: Momma’s little rabble rouser and an absolute terror when she wanted to be.  She could make this work.  Taking a breath, she looked back up at Electra, and met their gaze with a clenched jaw.

“What exactly am I going to do, besides apparently not being able to breathe without someone knowing?”  They shrugged, looking entirely unconcerned at the question.

“Whatever we tell you- the same goes for what you haul.  You might haul wastewater, for all I care.  Certainly not oil,” their lip curled.  “What would the engine of the future do with that ?”

That…that hurt, a bit.  It made sense, honestly, that this was not a cohort that needed oil, but- that was what she was designed for.  Oil might not be the fuel of the future, she wanted to say, but it is the fuel of the now.  Wisely though, she kept quiet.  She was in enough trouble as it is.

That did mean, however, that she probably wouldn’t be topping up her tanks anytime soon.  She could tell they were next to empty, and she’d bet anything that Wrench had done a complete purge of her system, if her injuries had been bad enough to open her up as the repair truck clearly had.  It wasn't like it was critical to her operation or anything, but it was strange to consider that she might not just haul oil- or even not haul oil for a while.

“There’s a growing demand for chemical transport,” they mused, lightly tapping their chin in a performance of thought, “maybe some of that.  We’ll figure it out, and let you know.

“And who knows,” they smirked, “by the end of this you might be begging to become a proper electric.”  Wow.  That was presumptuous, and she bristled at the implication.

“I’m not an electric. I am never going to be one of you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”  They smirked, staring down at her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wrench duck her head sharply and Volta’s mouth twitch, as someone- probably Joule- tittered.  She had no time to think about what any of that meant, facing off against the engine as she was- and losing.  Realistically, all she could do was lose here.  That didn’t mean she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

They were still smiling, smug and infuriating, and Slick was doing her absolute best to refrain from punching them.  If it weren’t for Killerwatt’s presence, she probably would have.  As it was, she could only clench her fists.

“Just because you can’t handle the consequences of your actions-” they began with a condescending tone, and Slick snapped.  Her actions.  This was too far.  This was laughable , and the explosion she had been gearing towards finally broke.

“No! You can’t handle the fact that you lost to a steamer with no training so you have to pretend that you would have won if I hadn’t crashed you!”

Silence reigned at her words, ringing throughout the space as Electra stared at her.  They looked as if they, in turn, were also about to explode.  They started forward eyes stormy, and she tried to shrink back, but found that she couldn’t move.  Their electromagnetism , she realized, fuck.   All she could do was stare mutely as they stalked closer and closer until they were inches apart.  They leaned down to her level, until they were nose to nose.

They didn’t yell, or hit her, or do any of the awful things she feared.  In her experience, engines were a physical lot when displeased, and she had thoroughly pissed them off, she knew.  But instead they stared, picking her apart and splaying her out under their gaze.

“Killerwatt wanted to tear you apart,” they said softly, “Wrench wanted to make you pay.  Volta and Joule were the ones who advocated for your little trial run here.  If I were you, I’d realize just how lucky you are right now, and thank me for listening to my better nature.”

She glared at them, then realized that they were actually waiting for some show of gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said through gritted teeth, and felt the weight holding her in place lift slowly.

“That’s better,” they purred, and lightly tapped her nose.  Electricity jumped between them, shocking her slightly.  It didn’t hurt, which surprised her, but it felt… weird.  Itchy.  And unwelcome, from them.

Electra turned away from her then, seemingly having lost interest in their newest employee (or, she thought somewhat morbidly, their newest acquisition).

“I think we’re done here,” they said- the first thing Slick agreed with them on.

“Wrench has assured me that you will be ready to travel tomorrow morning- we will continue our regular work schedule.  This, as you may have gathered, is our base of operations- for your intents and purposes you can call it home.”

Home.  The thought was laughable- home wasn’t here, in this austere and strange compound with these unfriendly electrics who hated her and the majority of whom probably wanted her dead, all of whom certainly wanted her to suffer- Wrench, who had fixed her up but had also turned off her fucking legs , Volta who had taken her color away and made her like the rest of them, Killerwatt who had made casual threats of her incapacitation, and Joule, who was confusingly kind and cruel and had kissed her- twice - and ever since had been staring at her like she wanted nothing more than to see Slick pinned and wriggling to a wall- Slick had to look away.

Electra had fully turned away from her, heading back over to the wall, upon which she realized was an electronic map of the country, rail lines lit up and glowing.

“Joule, Wrench,” they said tightly, “a word?”

The two broke off from the wall, each of them eying her as they passed on their way to the engine.  She watched them until she heard wheels stop behind her.  Killerwatt, who gestures for her to follow without a word.  

She followed him down the halls, back to her room.  He moved slower than necessary, possibly his only concession to the fact that she was recovering.  She made no attempt to start conversation, and he said nothing in return, simply glancing back at her if she fell too far behind.  Finally, they reached her room, one of many identical doors in the hall.

He opened it for her and gestured for her to enter, though she stopped just shy of the doorway and turned to him.  He raised his eyebrows, but she forged ahead with the question she had been wanting to ask.

“How long was I in stasis?”

“Three days.” Oh. That was a much lower number than she had expected.  He waited until she had processed this before speaking again, his next words accompanied with a smirk.

“You were fully shut down and non-operational for a while longer.”  Wait, what? That raised even more questions, and his self-satisfied, slightly mean smile told her he knew that his answer had only made her more concerned.

But she did not get the chance to ask any other questions as he took advantage of her shock to guide her over the threshold of her room.

He did not follow her in, instead closing the door behind her.  There was a click, and she tried the doorknob to confirm her suspicions.  Locked. Great.   Electra had meant it when they said she would go nowhere unaccompanied- while alone, she was stuck.

At least there were no cameras in here, she thought, glancing around.  They had dotted the ceiling in the halls and other rooms like stars in their abundance, every move any of them making carefully observed and cataloged.  She traded privacy for being stationary, which was fine.  She needed to be alone for a little, and process absolutely everything that had happened.  After all, she started work tomorrow.

And so she lay down upon the bed, and settled in for another fitful night.

Chapter Text

The worst part about working for Electra was that out of everything that had happened, the actual employment was… almost nice.  The actual work at least- the company less so.

It had been two weeks since her disastrous onboarding, though it felt like much longer.  The days dragged on forever- time slowed to a crawl when you worked for an engine you did not like with people who did not like you.  Those first few weeks, confined to the strange labyrinthine and large electrical compound, where turning a corner or heading through a doorway could take you to a completely different area with a completely different architectural style, were grueling in their own right as Slick learned what it was like to be a component.  Freight work, among other things, and a lot of it- and though she was well suited for it, it left her sore and aching every night as she crawled into bed, slumped into herself and waiting for sleep that would not come.

And of course, everytime she was not hauling or learning or locked in her room, she was with someone.

As she had been explicitly informed multiple times, she wasn’t trusted- as it was, the tanker found she could not even travel down a hall unaccompanied, at least one figure in silver keeping her within their sight at all times.  It was annoying for everyone- Slick could tell the others were frustrated by it too- all except for Joule.  

It had been two weeks- Joule had not tried to kiss her again, or take advantage of the deal she had made- in fact, she had hardly said anything to Slick at all, simply…watching her.  It was unsettling, how the eyes that were amber when gazing upon everyone else turned black, black as oil, as soon as Slick was in the dynamite truck’s sights.

It felt like every interaction she had had with Joule was part of playing a game, one in which only Joule knew the rules and Slick always lost.  Joule was like a jungle cat, constantly on the prowl- and Slick her unfortunate newest plaything.   Her watch from a distance and periodic semi-kindness did nothing to ease Slicks nerves- this was simply a different, more creative way to torment her with than the others.

From the start, Joule had been confusing- finding Slick and her mock kindness as she backed Slick into a corner, making a deal on hear behalf and then turning around and demanding repayment from the tanker- and still, outwardly, the nicest any of them had been to her, despite Joule’s insistence that none of them liked her and this was all because she had crashed Electra.  Very confusing, indeed.

Joule was still angry, clearly, but it seemed that in the meantime she was biding her time now, waiting to strike.  When Slick laid awake in bed late at night, unable to sleep and jumping at every small sound, it was Joule she imagined coming to make her pay.

And so, it had been two weeks of this: oil-slick staring, grueling training, freight hauling, frigid company (literally, in Volta's case), and sleepless nights, until finally, it was announced that they were heading out of the compound, and into the world.

She was paired with Volta for this trip, accompanying himself, Killerwatt, and Electra to a nearby train yard to pick up a shipment Electra would transport in the coming days, and to review and resign some sort of contract concerning cargo dealings.  It was likely a test for her as much as it was an actual errand- whether or not she could actually behave as a component, or if she would try something to jeopardize it.

They had traveled several hours out from the compound, and Slick, despite herself, took the time to enjoy the scenery.  Back in the Troubadour yard, her trips were limited- she had been to all of the surrounding stations countless times, but had never really traveled beyond that.  But they had raced over the countryside, velvet-soft verdant hills giving way to towering pines and rocky craigs and then sea side.  It was wonderful, and she felt a smile creeping across her face despite herself as the wind whipped through her hair.

It seemed the others were similarly affected by the trip- the sullen silence Slick had become accustomed to around her had transformed into something far more companionable- it was a beautiful morning.

She could feel Killerwatt behind her, stoic as ever, seem to loosen his grip on her couplers slightly, firm grip still in place but no longer as punishing, and in front of her, Volta had yelled something cheerfully to Electra, who when they looked back at their train, almost seemed to shoot a small sly smile at her.  It was as if they were saying, See? Look at how great this can be. 

She only raised an eyebrow in return, but they were definitely smiling as they turned their attention back towards the front.

But soon they had reached the train yard, and the mood had reverted as surely as if it had never been so.  Electra slowed to a stop, uncoupling from the rest of them as they skated off without a glance back, Killerwatt following after them with a wary glance at Slick as he went.

Now it was only Volta, who was staring at her with no small amount of disdain, and she glared right back.  The feeling was mutual- he had bleached her hair.

“Come on,” he said shortly, and skated off in the opposite direction as Electra and Killerwatt had.  Slick had no choice but to follow the freezer truck as they skated towards a warehouse a small ways away from the tracks.

There was an attendant there at the door when they arrived, smiling genially and looking as if he didn’t truly care about what they were doing.

“We’re here to resign an existing contract for Electra,” said Volta, voice low in her ear, “do not mess this up.”

Slick glanced around a little awkwardly as the attendant and Volta exchanged greetings, the freezer truck suddenly far more personable and cheerful than she had ever seen him.  The attendant returned the professional courtesy, chatting about meaningless things as he found the contract renewal they were here for.  It was handed to Volta, papers on a clipboard.

“Now, as you already know, but for the benefit of your friend here, signing the contract may be merely a formality but it requires to agents from each part to confirm.  Here you go, I’ll make copies for you before you leave.”

Volta nodded, looking unsurprised, and signed the bottom of the first page without reading the other pages under it.  He passed the clipboard to slick, who began to read it over curiously.

Halfway through the first page, going as quickly as possible since both of the others were beginning to look frustrated with her, she paused.  This felt…wrong. 

The contract concerned cargo Electra was to haul- the idea being that it was sold to Electra at market price and then marked up for profit- raw materials, refined stock, practically anything that the components could transport, but these prices were off, and laughably so.

Slick had plenty of experience hauling materials, and though Momma had never allowed her to manage her own contract, she was familiar with the costs it took to transport.  Raw materials were never this expensive- this was nearly a 300% markup than where she should be, and if that was the raw materials, stuff whose prices she knew and could quote in her sleep… it was probably a safe bet that everything else was also marked up significantly.  Electra was being severely overcharged, probably because this company thought they could.

“Slick?” Voltas voice remained pleasant, mildly confused, but Slick could tell that he was irritated with her.  She was supposed to sign this, not hold them up.  But these prices… no.  She was not putting her name on this.

Suddenly, she had an idea. A very, very stupid idea.  No one outside of the electrics knew the circumstances of her employment- for all intents and purposes, she was a proper component, with all of the bargaining power of Electra’s name that came with it.  She might as well see what she could do with it, even if it was technically helping Electra.

“Are you aware your materials prices are the highest in the country?” She stared at the attendant with her face schooled into a confused frown, the picture of confused and earnest.  She did not look at Volta, whose face had gone very blank.The attendant smiled, smooth as butter. 

 “I am aware our prices are a little higher than the norm, but that only reflects the quality of our products-“ Bullshit.  

“Quality?” She scoffed, “your supplier is listed on the paperwork, it’s the same as every other place in the county.  You’re up charging, and we won’t sign.”

Volta was very still now, and she could see him glaring daggers at her out of the corner of her eye and the motor to Slick’s pump was beginning to pick up speed, though she didn’t think it was noticeable to anyone else.  This had to work, or there would be hell to pay.

The attendant was smiling still, but it was a strained, nasty little thing that could easily be confused for a grimace if one had eyes.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said, “but I don’t believe changing our prices is possible.”  Slick raised her eyebrows at that, aiming for polite disbelief, and perhaps coming across slightly more vitriolic than was necessary.

“Then Electra will go elsewhere to make this deal,” she said, never breaking eye contact, “and you may explain to your superiors how you lost the business of the engine of the future.” 

He hesitated. “We can lower our prices by a third, but I’m afraid that’s as low as we can go-“

“You will lower your prices to a competitive market price or this conversation and partnership is over.”  The attendants jaw worked, once, twice, but seemed unable to summon a voice to convey his ire.  She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, waiting.

“I’m sure we can arrange that.” Said the attendant through gritted teeth.

“We can wait,” said Slick, shrugging.  A bluff, but one the attendant probably wouldn’t be able to call her on.

The attendant hesitated, waffling back and forth, finally he gave a frustrated sigh. 

“Fine. Fine!  I’ll just go and draw up an entire new contract right now…” he trailed off pointedly, but he’d given the inch- it was Slick’s turn to take the mile.

“You do that.  We’ll be here when you get back.”  She smiled, a grin with two many teeth, and the attendant turned to head back into the warehouse, muttering under his breath.

Now it was just Slick and Volta waiting for his (hopefully speedy) return.  He wasn’t saying anything, and though inwardly she squirmed, outwardly she would not give him the satisfaction.  So instead, she steeled herself and crossed her arms, daring him to say something.

The attendant came back after several minutes, and they quickly resumed a more professional appearance (read: looking like they could actually tolerate each other).

Silently, the attendant handed the clipboard to Slick, who noted that the appropriate modifications had been made.  Good.  She signed them and handed them back with a sweet smile.

“Where’d you find this one?” The attendant muttered to Volta sullenly as he handed the papers off and Volta signed the newly modified papers in turn.

“Half dead in a puddle of hydraulic fluid” said Volta, who grinned at the attendant like it was a joke.  While the attendants back was turned, she glared at Volta, who shrugged.  He hadn’t even been there, and she certainly hadn’t been dying-

“I think that’s all in order then,” said the attendant, still cheerful but no longer smiling quite as brightly, and Slick nodded in response, as Volta took their own copy of the new agreement.

“Until next time,” she said cooly, and turned away with Volta, the attendant glowering behind them.

They skated back to the tracks, presumably to wait for Electra and Killerwatt.  When they stopped, the place deserted except for them, Volta rounded on her suddenly.

“What were you thinking?” He hissed, spitting the words at her, “You don’t speak for Electra- you don’t make those decisions for them!”

“They’re being over charged-“

“They’re aware!  Of course they know that’s happening!”  Volta was keeping his voice low but it was clear he was angry, “They’re rich, they don’t care!”

Slick stared at him, wide eyed.  They didn’t care?  Did they truly have that much money, that the could throw away so much in a faulty contract?  The idea was unimaginable.

Money was money- when it could be saved, it always should- it was one of the best lessons Momma had ever taught her, growing up with three other siblings.  Save what you can for a rainy day- for missed cargo trips or emergency repairs, or simply to be secure in the knowledge that you had it for the unknown- whatever would come.  They don’t care.  That was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, and she was sure the look of shock she was giving Volta conveyed that, for he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, I don’t need to justify it to you.”

“That is the stupidest-“

Be more concerned if I’m going to tell Electra,” he interrupted her, and she froze.  It had been a test, and who knew how the engine would react to her going off script, but- she wasn’t just going to let him hold this over her.  

“Well, are you?”  It was their standoff from earlier, repeated again, and Voltas eyebrows rose at her challenge.  Finally however he shrugged and looked away.  

“No. Technically you did something that helps them, and frankly I’m also not going to give you credit for that.” Asshole.  He seemed to hesitate slightly, then scowled again. “But I suppose it is sort of smart.  For a freight.”  She rolled her eyes at the insult implied in his words, and turned away.  She had nothing else to say to him.

The universe seemed to agree that some reprieve from Volta’s company was in order, for she heard the sound of wheels approaching.  Electra and Killerwatt, the engine and their ever present shadow having completed their own business and arriving back at the tracks.

Electra glanced at Slick, then looked away from the tanker to eye Volta with a raised brow.

“Well?”  They said nothing else, but Volta nodded in response to the unasked question, though Slick couldn’t tell if Electra was asking about the contract they had been sent to take care of, or her own conduct while doing it.  Either way, they did not comment further, heading onto the tracks and indicating they should couple up.

The four set off again, back to the compound.  The atmosphere did not return to the lighthearted tone it had taken earlier, and Slick found herself missing it more than she had expected as they rolled past the seaside, through the forest and hills, and back to the compound.

Chapter Text

Dear Momma,

If this ever gets to you, I’m sorry.  

Deep breath.

I don’t know exactly what will have happened, but chances are it’s Electra’s fault.  I know how you feel about revenge, so just let Porter and Lumber know, they’ll handle the rest.  

The past weeks of working with the electrics had settled into some sort of tenuous agreement, but it was a tense one, set to topple at the slightest nudge.  Electra had not said more than a handful of words to her, Volta was still an asshole, Killerwatt still stoically distant, Wrench still unnerving and unreadable, and Joule, still…staring. Planning, with oil-slick eyes.  Slick shivered to think about it.

Though Slick worked alongside the others (or simply was forced to stay with one of them when she had finished her own work), it was not as though she had gotten to know them, or like them.  They kept her at a distance- they did not like her, and she them.

Still, a part of her ached whenever she saw the facade crack- Wrench, cracking a smile at one of Volta’s scathing comments, or Joule nudging Killerwatt at something Electra said, causing the security truck to blush luminescent blue and swat at her.  They were friends, and she was not.

It wasn’t that she wanted that camaraderie with them, but it reminded her of her and Porter and Lumber- and even Hydra, sometimes.  She missed them, missed goofing off with them and skating around their yard.  Missed being part of a matched set- not one of five identical components working for Electra, but one of four, with her own color and purpose.

Thus, one of the reasons she was writing this letter- one that would never see the light of day, and was composed and recorded only in her mind as Slick lay on her bed, staring at the opposite wall.  It was blank- even after several weeks, there was still nothing to denote this space as hers.

Slick couldn’t stop waiting for the other skate to drop- where was the revenge?  They were angry with her, she had crashed Electra- and what had she gotten in return?  Repairs. A job. A makeover , for star’s sake.  Where was the actual payback? The lesson Joule had said Killerwatt wanted to teach her? The pain?  They could have even left her at the mercy of Wrench, out of commission as she was- and yet they hadn’t. Why?

An option was that they were waiting for her contract to run out to kill her- to travel somewhere remote or out of the way.  Or maybe they were waiting for her to get complacent here in the compound, to rupture her tank again and simply stick her body in one of their many extra rooms.

…okay, perhaps she was catastrophizing ever so slightly.  That didn’t mean she could lower her guard.

Did she really think they were going to kill her? No, she supposed not.  Too many resources had been funneled into her at this point, and too much trouble had been taken.  But still.  She had been told this was payback- in her book, she didn’t feel like she had remotely broken even.  

The letter helped in a way- she hadn’t gotten to talk to Momma after the race, the last time she had seen her mother had been from afar, face heartbroken as she saw what Slick had done to Rusty.

She had planned to patch herself up, and then see if there was a way to creep back into Momma’s good graces.  But then Joule had shown up, and next thing she knew… Momma had already been informed she was leaving, and hadn’t questioned it, or tried to see her- she must be so mad at Slick, for having run off and not made amends.  Her and Porter and Lumber, and even Hydra, incessant yapping about the environment aside- they probably weren’t very pleased with how they thought she had handled things.

And of course, who knew when (if) she would be back?  She had never been told how long Electra planned to keep her in their employ- she needed her affairs in order, if (when) they changed their mind, and she ended up a little pile of scrap somewhere in this compound.  So, even if it was only in her mind: a letter- all the apologies she couldn’t make in person, and her wishes for the things and people she had left behind.

There was a noise of her door unlocking, and it slid open to reveal Joule, who skated in with a twirl and a smile. 

“Hello Slick!”  The dynamite truck was exuberant as ever, whirlwind of motion depositing herself in the chair by the vanity as Slick sat up upon the bed, instantly on guard,  “What are you thinking about?”

“How much I hate you,” Slick responded venomously, and Joule laughed lightly.

“Honesty, pretty girl,” she purred, “remember?”  Slick stilled, and stared at her.  Joule was sitting back in the chair in front of the vanity, the picture of smugness.  She meant exactly what she had said, and knew the effect it would have.  Slick looked away, feeling her cheeks heat as the wind was taken out of her sails.

“Well?” Joule was waiting, having settled in comfortably.

“‘Well’ what?”

“What’s on your mind?”  For a moment Slick stared at the dynamite truck, then sighed in defeat.

“Will you guys pass on my will when you kill me, or do I have to just hope Hydra doesn’t get my room?”  Joule started a little at the question, silver eyebrows raising and lips parting.

“You’re putting together your will?”

“Seemed practical.”  Joule nodded consideringly. Then she looked back up at Slick.

“What else?” She asked.

“What?”

“What else is in your will?”  Joule seemed to be asking the question in earnest, actually waiting for an answer.  Slick had no idea what to do with that.

“I don’t want Hydra to get my room.”  Joule nodded.

“So you’ve said,” she replied, and gestured for Slick to continue.”

“There’s a box under my bed- Porter gets that, he’ll know what to do with it.”  All of her savings- she trusted him to handle the finances almost as well as she did.  He’d know what to do with the money.  She didn’t say any of this to Joule, but the dynamite truck didn’t question it, instead still listening attentively.

“Gotcha, gotcha.”

“Lumber gets my records,” she didn’t have a big collection, but the ones she did have were special, he’d keep them safe.

“Momma can have my jewelry.” She didn’t have very many pieces (most obtained through less than legal means), but she thought Momma might appreciate the sentimentality- the only jewelry she ever wore regularly (which had thankfully passed Volta’s inspection, likely because they fit the color palette) were a small pair of triangular silver studs that remained in her ears always.  They had been a gift from Momma, years ago- she never took them off.

“Um, Dinah can have the bracelet she made me back.”  That made sense, she could probably recycle the beads or something, “ and Rusty can have my lighter.”  It was one of the most important things she owned- she hoped he understood the apology for what it was.

Joule was nodding along to all of this, having flipped upside down in the chair and glancing at her upside down.  

“That’s it,” Slick finished lamely.  It was a short list, all things considered.  As she said that, Joule was quiet for a moment, then spoke.

“What would you leave me?”

“What?”

“I said-“ she quickly flipped to right herself, and before Slick could stop her, had joined Slick on the bed, one hand on the tankers hip and the other on her chin, “-what would you leave me?”

Slick could have sworn she bluescreened- which was impressive because between the two of them, she was the one without a computer.  She swallowed.  Joule was very close now, and the undivided attention from the dynamite truck was overwhelming.

“What- what do you want?”  Joule’s eyes gleamed- she seemed to like that response.

“I would like…” she trailed off, glancing down, and Slick watched as her hand went from slick’s hip to tapping her triangular belt emblem.

“Your symbol.”

“My belt?”  Joule nodded eagerly.

“It’ll be a trophy, for when we kill you.” Joule winked, and laughed at the expression on her face, “you are adorable , I swear- we’re not gonna kill you.  If we wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have brought you to Wrench.”  Her hand was still on Slick’s chin, thumb resting comfortably right below Slick’s lips.  

It was hard to think, with Joule so close, but Slick registered that she had suspected as much.  That didn’t mean that wouldn’t change.  She thought about her letter again, and felt her eyes begin to burn, as Joule’s gleeful expression changed to one of confusion.

“Not quite the response I expected after being told that we’re not gonna kill you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s nothing” Slick muttered, and tried to pull away, only to find that Joule, hand still on her chin, wouldn’t let her.

“Liar.  Tell me.”  Joule was patient, even as she ensured that Slick was trapped into answering the question.

“I just… miss Momma.” She whispered, barely able to get the words out.  Stars, it sounded so stupid , said out loud- the little tanker who was homesick and wanted her mom- pathetic.

Joule didn’t say anything immediately, which Slick was inwardly grateful for.  She knew it was silly, but it would have been worse if Joule had laughed at her about it, or had dismissed it entirely.  Stars, she wanted a hug-

Joule shifted, and Slick flinched as arms suddenly encircled her.  She was being…hugged.  Had she been that obvious? 

Slowly, gently, Joule maneuvered them into laying down atop Slick’s bed, wrapping her arms around Slick from behind.  She was tense, as Joule settled them, barely suppressing the urge to flinch again- not because she thought Joule would hurt her, but because this type of touch was so utterly foreign to her.  Joule was warm, and comfortable, and held her as if she was special, delicate.  No one had ever treated Slick like she was delicate before.  Slick should have put up more of a fight- she should have, but- she was so tired all of a sudden.  

“Your Momma was mad you didn’t tell her yourself, but she thought this would be good for you,” said Joule softly.  She was trying to be comforting, Slick thought.  It was… nice of her, all things considered, but it raised more questions.  What exactly had they told Momma? And Momma- had she really only been mad because Slick hadn’t been there?  Doubtful. 

Momma's face as it had been the last time Slick had seen her floated to the forefront of her mind- the old steamers face a mixture of angry and heartbroken when she had seen what Slick had done.  Slick swallowed.

“Close your eyes,” murmured Joule, “things will feel better in the morning.”  Slick said nothing, finding it hard to swallow around the lump in her throat, but did as the dynamite truck suggested.  She was at war with herself, caught between the panic of Joule being so close and trying to get her to let her guard down, and the agony of being held like she was something precious.  But the siren song of sleep after so many sleepless nights was too strong to resist, and despite herself Slick fell into the waiting arms of Joule and dreamland.

When she opened her eyes again, sitting up sharply and immediately on guard, it was dark in her room- she could see stars through the high up windows.  Joule was gone, and Slick was under the covers now, her plating having been removed and neatly stored away for her, her belt laying neatly on the vanity, the yellow triangle winking at her.  Joule’s doing, and she wondered how tired she had to be for all of this to happen without Slick waking up at all.  The answer did not reassure.

She lay back down, hoping that she could perhaps get some more sleep: however long she had been resting had been the longest she had slept since arriving here, as tense and on guard as she was.

But like every other night, sleep did not come, and Slick was left staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about what had finally allowed her to rest.

Momma, I know I didn’t say it enough, but I love you.

Your rabble-rouser,

Slick

Chapter Text

Growing up as a family of five, money had always been tight.  They were not poor, Slick knew, but Momma was a single mother with four mouths to feed- that would put a strain on anyone’s finances.  Any cash to spare was scrupulously saved for a rainy day- repairs, or emergencies or refurbishments.  Momma was thrifty though, and resourceful- she always made sure there was enough pocket change on hand for a treat or surprise when one of them needed it the most.

It was from Momma that Slick’s understanding of the importance of money came from.  Momma had let her watch as she budgeted one day, a tiny Slick seated on her lap, as she had brought out a gigantic paper ledger, and flipped it open to the proper page.  Inside, spread over the papers were Momma’s records- neat columns filled with information about what had cost how much and when, how much money was in specific accounts and when payments would be made to ensure continued smooth operations.  Slick had been entranced.  Here were the numbers that dictated all their lives, that Momma so diligently and meticulously recorded.

Everything came down to money. Money , and the things you could do with it- you could buy a person's time, or efforts, virtually any physical object could be yours for a high enough sum, you could go anywhere- money was freedom .  And to a little oil truck, finally growing up and finding out that the world was very big and your yard a little too small, that had made all the difference.  It was why she had begun crashing other trains, really.  Her work paid alright, but crashing- well.  It had been Slick’s hope to leave the Troubadour yard someday, and never look back.  And with the resources available to her, there had only been one way to make it happen.

Slick thought about all this now, as she sat within the strange old station hub of the electric’s compound.  She was seated on an obscenely plush armchair, Wrench, Joule and Killerwatt seated across from her, each engrossed in their own work.  She was trying her hardest not to look at them- Killerwatt and Wrench for the obvious reasons of ‘they didn’t like her and she didn’t like them’ and Joule out of- embarrassment perhaps.  Shame.  

They had not really spoken since the night the dynamite truck had held her so carefully and sent her to sleep, and it was horrible to know someone who disliked her so thoroughly had seen that side of her.  Prickles of wariness, or stomach fluttering something might have been present as well- for though they had not spoken, Joule had still been staring, every chance she got.  Planning something, or waiting for Slick to slip up, or simply for the pleasure of enjoying watching Slick squirm.  It put her on edge, and in her mind it was hard to reconcile the softer Joule, who had held her and kissed her softly with this one, staring with glittering eyes and willing to do what it took to get what she wanted.

Regardless, right now the dynamite truck paid her no mind, seated on a comfortable-looking sofa with Wrench and sketching something within a notebook as the repair truck fiddled with some sort of breadboard and small connectors.  Killerwatt held a tablet, staring at it intently with a laser focus.  None of them seemed to be paying attention to her, but Slick knew that could change in an instant- she was still very much under observation.

She looked down at her own activity, balanced on her knees.  Out of boredom, she had snagged one of Electra’s old budgeting ledgers, expecting it to appear similar to the way Mommas had been set up- she was woefully incorrect.  It was a mess . There was no rhyme or reason to the organization she found within the pages, no records of purchases made or for what reason or when.  It was like it had all been an afterthought of records, with hardly any semblance of long-term planning, or anything of the sort.  Sighing, she flipped the page and delved back into it.

As she flipped through, she began making notes in a separate notepad of financial discrepancies or cargo prices listed- things to look into, if she ever got her hands on more records or access to a database.  Ideas to implement, or areas to improve were also hurriedly scribbled down- it was something to do, and there was so much to go through- post-it notes and paper receipts folded into the pages giving a more complete record- but still a disorganized one.

As she read, Volta's words from that first outing came back to her: They’re rich, they don’t care!   An incredible concept- to have so much money that making bad financial decisions wouldn’t impact you in the slightest- unimaginable.  Though, given everything Slick knew about Electra, it was easily believable- rich and powerful, powerful enough to create their own narrative, and make a freight truck… disappear.

She shivered, and realized as she did that there was someone lurking near her- Killerwatt.  She started, slamming the book shut, and he stared down at her impassively.  He didn’t like her, she knew- possibly the least out of any of them.  She didn’t know much about him either, only that he was very loyal to Electra.  A quiet loyal security truck, who was always on guard to deal with the greatest threat to Electra and the other components well being- her.  They hated each other on principle.

“What?” She asked defensively, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Wrench and Joule each look up from their work.

“What are you working on?” He asked, and Slick straightened to meet his gaze evenly.

“Nothing.”

“More ways to crash others?”  He pressed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you have me under twenty-four seven surveillance? I think you’d know if I was planning something.”  She glared at him, and he glowered back at her, arms folded.

“We do, but it always pays to remind you of that fact.”

“Well I’m not,” she said, holding onto the book a little tighter.

“Shame.  I would love an excuse to demonstrate my capabilities.”

“I’ll bet you would,” she muttered.

“What was that?” He cupped his hand over his ear, inviting her to repeat herself, and Slick scowled, mouth twisting.

“I said ‘I bet you would.’” An idea was occurring to her now, one that she unconsciously stoked to the forefront of her mind.  He had wanted to make her pay- she had no doubt what that meant.  She was sure he still wanted to, despite how much time had passed or the tentative peace they had all fallen into.

But- she wanted him to hit her.  To make her hurt.  At least then she might feel a little less off kilter- pain she would understand.  Not this horrible waiting she had been stuck in, of being taut like a bow string as she laid in bed and working every day waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Listen, tanker-“

“Does it bother you that if Electra had just raced with you none of this would have happened?”  She cut him off, and his silver eyebrows raised dangerously.  “I get that Joule and Volta couldn’t, having been partnered already, and Wrench shouldn’t as a repair truck, but why didn’t they pick you ?”  He was rigid now, glaring at her with unbridled fury.  She was close to his breaking point now- just a little further.

“How many times did you ask and they said no?  Or did they write you off completely as only being good for taking a hit for them?”  As she finished, she knew she had done it- the security truck was shaking with rage.  Come on. Hit me. I deserve it, don’t I?

“Killerwatt!”  The truck had not moved, but Joule had grasped his arm tightly as he stared venomously at Slick, speaking to him softly, eyes darting between the two of them.  Slick could only catch a few words- “doesn’t know” and “old yard.”

Her own arm was grabbed, and she was yanked up from her chair, notebook and ledger falling to the floor, and pulled backwards on her wheels.  Wrench.  The repair truck pulled her out of the hub, into another one of the long hallways, away from Joule and Killerwatt, who had yet to move.  Finally, they ended up in a workroom of some sort, with bolts of fabric piled high to the ceiling, and Wrench swung around to glare at her in exasperation.

“That was stupid ,” spat the repair truck, and Slick rolled her eyes, her motor still kicked up a few notches from normal.  Wrench and Joule had stopped them too soon.  If they had just waited a few seconds longer her plan would have worked- now she was as off kilter as she had ever been, bracing for the hits that would not come.

“Whatever.”

“No, not whatever .  You don’t get to pick a fight just because you’re upset you’re stuck here.”

“He started it!”  That was sort of true.  She was definitely the one who made it worse though, and Wrench was giving her a look that said she was focused on that more than anything else.

“I am not interested in putting you back together again,” Wrench hissed, and that stopped Slick short, “you think I was happy when Joule showed up with you and I was told I had to fix you up?  I wasn’t.  But I had a job to do, and you’re better than you’ve ever been.”  That was true, not that Slick would ever tell Wrench that- ever since waking up, she had felt better than she had in a while- a testament to Wrench’s abilities.  Still, this wasn’t Joule.  She didn’t have to be honest.

“You don’t like us- and trust me, the feeling is mutual-” this was said with a derisive snort, and Slick bristled, “but I don’t have to like my coworkers to get along with them.”  Slick wanted to yell back- Wrench was clearly friends with the others, and they her- it was Slick who no one liked, and despite hating them all it stung in its own way.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me put in my place.” Slick said, taunting.  If her plan with Killerwatt had failed, maybe…

Wrench smirked at that, which- huh.  That was not the reaction Slick had been expecting.

“You’ve already been put in your place- beneath Electra.  Believe me, it is incredibly satisfying to watch.”  Slick flushed, and Wrench’s smile turned into a slightly wider one as she did.  Great.   The repair truck thought that was funny.

“Screw you,” she gritted out, trying not to show the repair truck how much the words affected her.

“I was surprised when Volta let you keep your little symbol,” said the repair truck as if Slick hadn’t spoken, reaching out and tapping her belt, nails making a sharp clack on the glowing yellow piece, “because that symbol usually denotes danger.  But you’re not anymore.  You can’t carry oil- I drained your tank during repairs- you can’t crash trains, none of us trust you to be alone or left to your own devices- you’ve been defanged.  And no one else knows any better.  To them, you wanted this.  You’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

The repair truck’s smile had faded as she had continued, until she was staring directly at Slick, arms folded.  Slick was breathing hard, fighting the burn in her eyes as she stared.

“Did that hurt to hear?” Asked the repair truck softly, mockingly, “Doesn’t it sting, to know everything I said is true, and you can’t do anything about it?”  She drew nearer to Slick, who flinched as she did.  Wrench didn’t smile at that, or even seem satisfied she had managed to get under Slick’s skin.  Instead, she drove the point home.

“Killerwatt’s not going to attack you,” she said quietly, “he's employed to protect Electra and their components- that’s you, even if you don’t like that.”  She leaned in closer, until they were nearly nose to nose, her narrowed eyes meeting Slick’s own glare. “ Don’t try that again.”

She drew back, and turned away.  Slick watched her go, fists clenched so hard that she felt the pain from her nails cut into her palms.  Her eyes would not stop burning, and her cheeks felt hot.  Wrench  had gone for the kill, and she felt throughly eviscerated in the process.  It was a different type of pain than the one she had braced for, and one that cut deep.

Before she could say anything to Wrench- scramble for another insult, perhaps, or a question about what exactly she had inadvertently told Slick about Killerwatt- the door creaked open, and Volta skated in.  He seemed surprised to see the two of them, but took it in stride, placing the files he carried on one of the large metal tables within the workshop.

“Everything alright?” He asked Wrench, hardly glancing at a frozen Slick.

“Fine.” She said shortly, face returning to impassive and unreadable, “Watch her, would you?”  He gave a confused nod, and she skated towards the door, leaving the room without looking back.

Volta and Slick both watched her go, the former turning to her as the door slammed shut.

“Was she telling you how she was going to hide your body or something?”  He said it like it could be a joke, but his eyes were steely and he watched her intently.

“Or something.”  She muttered, and looked down, rubbing her arms.  He frowned, but turned back to his work, opening the binder a the top of his stack and selecting several skeins of thread from a bin.

“Sit over there,” he said, waving a hand in the general direction of the corner, “don’t get in my way.”  

Silently, and without any fight, she made her way to the corner as he had ordered.  There was no chair and she did not bother to find one- instead she sat down upon the cold floor, and brought her knees to her chest.  Volta was humming as he worked, and she tried to sink into that noise- only his tune mattered, not Wrench and her scalding words, or Killerwatt and his venomous glare, or Joule, and her oil-slick eyes.

Chapter Text

There was a party coming up.  Or, sorry, a gala, which was not like a regular party, her mistake. Either way, Electra was set to make an appearance at a gala soon, and the atmosphere in the time leading up to the event was electric, pun intended.  Preparations were made, which mostly consisted of Slick being relentlessly educated on etiquette (“so you won’t be a complete embarrassment,” sighed Volta, “just a moderate one,”) and being forced to make styling decisions for herself, which were clearly a new form of torment Volta had decided she would be subjected to.

For example, right now: the components were all seated in the hub, and Slick found herself approached by the freezer truck, who had a gleam in his eye she did not like.  He rolled to a stop in front of her, and held out a stack of fabric squares.

“Pick one.” Slick took them from him cautiously, and flipped through them.  Some of them felt a little different than others, but they were all black- indistinguishable from one another to the untrained eye.  She looked up at Volta, unimpressed.

“They’re all the same.”

“These are clearly very different shades and textiles.”  Slick nodded in a way that she hoped he knew she was only humoring him.  She did believe him; Volta had shown himself to be very good at his job, and in fairness she could see some small differences, but it was the principle of the matter- his life didn’t get to be any easier than hers while she was stuck here.

“No they aren’t.”

“Yes they are !”  She shook her head, watching as he grew more exasperated by the moment.  Finally, he rolled his eyes.

“That pick one at random, it’s not my fault you’re colorblind.”  Volta skated backwards a few feet before muttering, “Freight,” under his breath.  It was clearly meant for her to hear, however, and Slick’s head shot up.

“What did you say about me?”

“I was thinking how you clearly don’t appreciate the finer things in life,” he sniffed, crossing his arms.  Slick tensed.  As if fabric squares were any indication-

“Watch it,” she gritted out.  She was reaching her limit.

“What are you going to do about it?” He taunted, and Slick grinned meanly.  Volta had only a moment to go “Wait, what are you-“ before the freezer truck found himself tackled by the silver and white tanker, the two crashing to the floor as they grappled.

“Get him in the side, he’s sensitive there,” called Joule gleefully, and Slick jabbed him where the dynamite truck suggested.  Volta yelped, and twisted to glare at Joule, who smiled back unrepentantly.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, why are you helping her?”  The dynamite truck shrugged, and winked at Slick.

“It's been a long time coming; you need to be knocked down a peg or two.”  Slick grinned back.  She tussled with Volta for a few more seconds before finally sitting atop him and grabbing a fistful of hair, causing him to freeze.

“Not the hair, not the hair , ow, ow, ow- ” Killerwatt sighed and got up then, moving towards the pair on the ground.  Slick looked up as he approached and gave him her most innocent smile.  It worked on her brothers, maybe it would work on him.

“Slick,” he said tiredly, seemingly already knowing her answer, “I know he might deserve it, but let him go.”  She shook her head stubbornly.

“Not until he apologizes for what he said.”

“You are the spawn of the Diesel himself!” shrieked Volta, and she looked down at him as Killerwatt crouched down and began to try to pry her hand open.  He wasn’t having much success.

“I’m literally an oil tanker,” she said, like it should have been obvious.

“Not anymore,” called Wrench, not looking up from her work, and she stuck her tongue out at the repair truck. 

“It’s the principle!”  Wrench smirked faintly at that, and looked up at her. 

“He’s ticklish too,” she said, then looked back down at her reading as Volta squawked in indignation.

“Traitor!  Why would you tell her-“  he was cut off as Slick began to do as Wrench suggested, writhing with laughter.  Killerwatt had given up on trying to open her hand, and had instead opted to wind his arms around her waist, trying to pull her off of Volta more completely.  This was also not working too well, as Slick had the foresight to lock her legs around Volta's waist.  Amateurs, truly- she had been wrestling with her brothers since Momma had brought her home.

She was overcome with giggles as this happened- she could hear Killerwatt cursing in her ear as he failed to remove her, Wrench snickering despite herself and laughter from where Joule was seated, howling into Wrench’s shoulder.  It was the first time she had truly laughed since she had been taken.  It felt good.  It was good, in fact, until they were all frozen by a throat clearing and a faintly electronic voice speaking.  Addressing her.

“Please unhand my freezer truck.”  The request (read: order) was uttered in a bored yet commanding tone, and one that made her immediately straighten up.  Electra.   They were standing there, one hand on a hip, and the other holding- shit .  The ledger she had been flipping through, and the notebook she had left with it.

Slowly, she let go of the handful of hair she had kept her grip on, and got off of Volta, never looking away from the electric engine, who stood waiting.  The freezer truck lay on the ground, certainly more frazzled now than he was when he had started out, until he was helped to his feet by Killerwatt.  But none of that mattered.  Nothing mattered except the engine who was staring at her impassively, holding the notes that she had forgotten to hide.

Electra skated forward, holding out the two books, “I was told you were examining this ledger the other day,” they began, “did you make these notes?”

Slick crossed her arms.  They absolutely already knew the answer to this, and were probably trying to catch her in a lie.  She didn’t want to know what they would do then.

“Yeah.”  They were silent, staring at her, and she shifted uncomfortably, “Why?”

“It’s… good.” They sounded baffled, and she bristled, tensing.  

“Of course it’s good,” Slick responded, offended.  She could have asked why they sounded so surprised, but she already knew.  She was freight, she was supposed to be good at hauling shit and nothing else.  She wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of saying it to her face.

“Where did you learn to do this?”  They were peering intently at her, and she looked down, unable to maintain eye contact.

“I grew up learning it.  Budgeting was big in my house.”  Momma would be proud to know that Slick had taken some of what the steamer had tried to teach her to heart- Slick hoped.

Electra nodded, and set the ledger and note book upon a table, arranging them just so, as if all of their energy and concentration went into this task.

“Volta also informed me that you took it upon yourself to modify one of my outstanding contracts with a supplier when you went on your first excursion,” they said lightly, still not looking at her, and Slick, for the life of her, could not tell what they were thinking.  She was concerned that this was the calm before the storm- that any minute they might shoot electricity at her like they did their competitors in the races, or use their electromagnetism to throw her into a wall.  

“I reduced your costs by seventy-five percent,” she said in return, trying not to sound as uncertain as she felt, glancing at Volta as she did.  The freezer truck, who had gotten off lightly now that Slick knew he had told Electra, shrugged.  She should have pulled his hair harder.

“You did,” they mused softly, and they nodded as they finally looked away from the books on the table.

“Are finances something that interests you?”  She nodded, a little confused at the line of questioning.

“It’s something I’m good at.” She responded cautiously, and they tilted their head consideringly.

“You are,” they said in agreement, and Slick jerked back a little in surprise, “you’ll do more of it, then.  Might as well put you to work,” they said, and she rolled her eyes but nodded all the same.  It would be nice to have something to do, she could get so bored once she had finished hauling and had to just sit with someone like a child.

“You’ll be a financial analyst.”  They said, tapping their chin with their pointer and middle fingers, “Stars knows I haven’t had one of those in a while.”  Slick didn’t care to ask who they were talking about.

“Fine,” she said, albeit a little cautiously.  A glance at the others revealed nothing: Joule’s head was cocked curiously, while Wrench had returned to her reading, and Killerwatt’s face had adopted neutral impassivity.  Slick missed the laughter of earlier.

“You’ll still be monitored, obviously, and your work will be checked, but Killerwatt will give you access to the database and related files.”  They said it almost carelessly, like it didn’t truly matter, and Slick blinked.  They were just giving her access? Call her crazy, but putting the person who you blamed for crashing you and you still didn’t trust in charge of your finances seemed like an… interesting choice.

“Uh, alright?”  They nodded again, and, now that they had said their piece, abruptly turned to leave the room, Killerwatt following after them as they did.  The door swung shut behind the pair, and Volta turned towards the couch in the ensuing silence.

“Wrench, I need to retake your measurements, Joule dumped water on my file.”  Wrench nodded, and Joule bolted upright in indignation.

“That is not what happened, you asked for my help!”  But Volta gave no reply as the two began to move towards the door.

“Wait,” Slick called, and skated over to the freezer truck.  He had forgotten his fabric squares, and she rifled through them, picking one that seemed sturdy and reminded her of the material of her old uniform.

“This one,” Volta took the offered square and nodded, running it between his fingers.

“Sounds good,” the freezer truck said, pocketing the piece, “you’ll look great.”  She aired for the caveat: “for a freight” perhaps, or something else scathing- maybe how she didn’t have a choice in the matter- but he said nothing, simply turning and skating out of the room with Wrench.  

Slick was left staring after the two of them when suddenly hands landed on her shoulders, and slick jumped as Joule draped herself over the tanker’s back.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” she said, and Slick felt the tickle of her words on the back of her neck.  She shivered slightly at the sensation.

“I’m not just a dumb freight, you know.”  She turned her head towards the other truck slightly, and found Joule already there, so close together their noses were touching.  The dynamite truck’s head was slightly tilted, evidently considering something.

“Are you scared I think that?”  Joule’s eyes were dark, face so close to Slick's own that they were practically all she could see.  Slick swallowed.

“You’d have to be pretty self-obsessed to think I’m worried about what you think.” She responded, trying to deflect the question as best she could.  Joule’s smile widened, and it was only in that moment that Slick remembered that Joule could always tell when she was lying.  Fuck.   FUCK.

“Don’t say it,” she groaned, flushing as she buried her face in her hands.  Joule laughed lightly.

“So answer me.”

“I…” Slick trailed off.  Freight were always considered the dumbest of the trains, and  though there was no proof that this was true, the stereotype remained.  It was one of the reasons that despite being knowledgeable about money, budgeting, and general finance that she had been relegated to hauling at Troubadour- no one, save Momma, had faith in her abilities.  It had been helpful when doing her side job, she’d admit- plenty of the diesel engines she’d been paid by had appreciated that she, as a little oil tanker, would never be considered a culprit, even if foul play was suspected.  But it was exhausting, having to work twice as hard as everyone else to be half as acknowledged.

And Joule… something she had done that had stuck out to Slick even when she had been depressurizing on the pavement was that she had called her choices smart, even as the truck had backed her into a corner and forced her to do what Joule wanted.  Even despite that, Slick found herself wanting Joule to see her properly- not the stereotype or lies, just… her.  A stupid thought, really- Joule was not her friend.  But the desire remained, shameful as it was.

“Yeah,” she whispered, not looking at the dynamite truck for fear of what she would find on Joule's face,“I am.”

Joule was quiet for a moment, unmoving from where she was still touching Slick, until Slick felt a hand on her face, guiding her to look up at Joule.

“I think you’re very smart,” said the dynamite truck seriously, “I think you just made a few mistakes that landed you here.  But do you really think we’d be as mad at you if you were actually dumb?”

She made a good albeit unfortunate point.  They wouldn’t have just kidnapped a dumb tanker who had made a mistake- the point to this was revenge.  Revenge and teaching her a lesson- the lesson she was still waiting on.

Joule's face was still close to her own, and Slick’s eyes darted to the dynamite truck’s lips.  For a second, she thought Joule might kiss her again, and couldn’t decide how she felt about that.  

But Joule did not, and only smiled again, a gleeful little scrunch that wrinkled her nose and was not at all endearing, and pushed off from Slick as the far door swung open and Killerwatt reentered the room.

“Congratulations, anyways,” she said sweetly, and nodded to Killerwatt as she passed.  Joule gathered her things, and it was only then that Slick realized she was about to leave.

“Wait,” she said, jerking up, and Joule paused, turning to look back at her.  

“Does my-“ Slick gritted her teeth, but forged ahead on the question that had occurred to her.  She might as well ask- it might shed some insight into what to expect, “ Does my contract specify no bodily harm?”

“It does not!”  Joule sounded way too excited about that fact, and it suddenly occurred to Slick that despite Joule’s earlier reassurance, torture and murder were perhaps not the same thing in Joule’s mind.

At a lack of further questioning, Joule, now grinning, winked at Slick and sped out the door.  Slick could only watch her go, and slowly turned to Killerwatt after the door banged shut.

“I think I’m gonna get maimed,” she said to Killerwatt faintly.  Concerningly, he only nodded solemnly in response.

“We can only hope.”

Chapter Text

“Hold still.”

“I am holding still!” 

“Then hold stiller, because you’re clearly moving!”

It was the night of the gala, and Slick was being subjected to the cruel and unusual punishment that was Volta with a sewing needle.  He circled around her, making a few last minute adjustments as she appraised herself in the mirror.

The worst part of Slick’s gala outfit, she concluded, was that it was actually really nice.  Volta had outdone himself, truly.  It was a black suit, of the material she had picked out- the black sturdy and slightly matte material that so closely resembled her old uniform and brought a sense of comfort with it.  Beneath it was a black shirt, made of some soft, slightly shiny material- silk, she thought.  It had been left unbuttoned low, creating a plunging v-neck down her chest, a mixture of casual and effortlessly sexy (only in appearance though, Volta had been at this far too long for any of this to be considered “effortless”).  Slick had never had reason to dress up before, but found that if this was what she had to wear, she didn’t mind it too much.

“Well, what do you think?”  Volta asked, his eyes darted up to hers, “about the fit- I don’t care if you actually like it.”  His gaze dropped to her suitjacket again, eyes scrutinizing every minute detail for things to fix.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, “thank you.”  Volta froze at her words- it was possible he had not expected a genuine compliment from her.  He recovered quickly, and straightened up, brushing invisible lint off of his charcoal-colored suit.

“Of course it is,” he sniffed, “I’m incredible.”  He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small box, handing it to her.

“Wrench made them.  It matches your uniform.”  Slick opened the box, and found two small silver cufflinks within, each her triangular symbol on her regular plating.  Volta held out his charcoal-clad arm, and she saw that he had a similar pair fastened to his cuffs: a small cluster of silver spikes.

“We all have them,” he said by way of explanation, and Slick clipped hers in with a nod.  They matched her earrings too, she thought with a start, and wondered if that was intentional.

“We should get going,” Volta announced, and skated backwards as he did.  As he neared the door, she heard the tell-tale click of it unlocking, and they headed out into the hall, towards the central station.

It was dark in the station- no light shone in through the large windows, and slick could see that the others had already gathered.  Volta had clearly gotten to all of them- Joule, Wrench, and Killerwatt were all dressed to the nines in suits similar to Slick’s own, in different shades of grey and black, with small adjustments in style to best flatter who wore them.  

Wrench and Killerwatt were in similar style suits: Wrench in dark grey and Killerwatt in black, but both wearing blue shirts: Wrench’s a lighter blue, and Killerwatt’s a button up closer to navy.  Joule, Slick found, was particularly striking:  a suit of soft grey material with an asymmetrical ivory-colored shirt below it.  Electra, in contrast to their five components, was wearing a dark blue backless dress that showed off the delicate silver circuitry on their back up their spine, a dichotomy of towering and delicate.  All four of them looked towards the pair as they entered.

“Here she is,” announced Volta with a flourish, “I know, I outdid myself.”  Wrench snorted at his words, but gave Slick an approving once over.  Killerwatt nodded, and Joule… Joule did nothing, just stared at her with an unreadable expression.  Her gaze swept over Slick, and she nodded slightly, then looked away.   Slick tried not to feel disappointed by that.

“Yes, excellent work as always Volta,” said Electra, the engine skating slightly forward.  Their dress sparkled slightly as they moved, and Slick realized there was a slit up the side as they spun around on their skates.

“Well, what do you all think?”  They asked, striking a pose.

“You’re perfect,” said Killerwatt, breathless, then flushed a luminescent turquoise blue, shaking his head quickly, amending his statement with, “you look perfect.”  The security truck quickly looked away from the engine, and Slick knew he missed the look Electra gave him, a mix of appreciative and something soft.  She wondered if that was their real reason for asking, rather than the compliments that were sure to follow.

A quick glance at the others seemed to support this theory: Wrench was looking at the floor with wide eyes and a tired expression, and Joule’s mouth was twisted in a way that suggested she was trying very hard not to laugh.

‘Anyways,” Volta broke in, wearing an almost pained expression over what he had just witnessed, “We should get going.  Now, preferably.”  Electra sighed, and nodded, tearing their eyes away from the security truck who was staring at the floor.

“Fine,” they muttered, and soon Slick found herself coupled up behind Wrench, Killerwatt holding onto her own couplers as they set out to the gala.  The trip wasn’t as long as she expected, and she relished in the feeling of the cold wind whipping across her arms and face, causing her eyes to water.  

All too soon, they reached the place where the gala was to be held: another old train station, this one looking heavily inspired by the art deco movement, but still in use.  The building glowed- a white stucco exterior shone in warm white lighting, and the inside looked almost golden as laughter and conversation spilled from within.

“Alright,” said Volta, clapping his hands as they all uncoupled, “it’s showtime!  Electra?”  The engine smiled as they delicately stepped off of the rails and took Volta’s arm.  The pair strode towards the doors, nodding to other attendees on the way, and entered without looking back.  From within Slick could hear the two announced to thunderous applause.

Wrench and Joule also started towards the entrance, the latter chattering to the former excitedly, and Slick tried not to think too hard about it.  Clearly Joule simply didn’t want to talk to her- great.

Before she could start forward as well, her arm was grabbed by the remaining member of the group: Killerwatt, who was glaring at her fiercely.

“Don’t leave the main room, and don’t do anything that draws attention to yourself.  We’re here to make Electra look good, not stand out.”  All of this he ordered, and she nodded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not going to screw this up, relax.  Go find Electra or something.”  He glowered at her, but as soon as they had made their way inside, he was gone, leaving her to fend for herself among the hungry eyes and whispering mouths of the other party goers.

Hours passed.  Slick had relegated herself to the outskirts, making polite small talk (she had learned something from the barrage of lessons, take that Volta!) with the other guests.  Music played, a small band of musicians in the corner striking up, and the large space in the middle of the room- a dance floor, she now realized- slowly flooded with couples dancing.

She glanced around.  She could see Volta, arm slung around Wrench as they spoke to another guest, and Electra with Killerwatt, the former leading the latter through a waltz.  She couldn’t see Joule, had no idea where the dynamite truck had crept off to, but suddenly she had the urge to steal away.

She needed space, or air, or something.   Just some time where a dozen watching eyes couldn’t see her.  But- if she left, someone would come after her, and she didn’t really want to incur the Wrath of Killerwatt, or any of the others.  So, a compromise.  She headed to a small alcove off to the side, out of the way and mostly enclosed- no one would see her here, and she could have a moment undisturbed in the dim lighting of this space.

The marble wall was cool under her hands, and she pressed her palms against it, breathing deeply.  It was refreshing, and faintly she realized that while she could still hear the distant chatter of the crowd, she could also hear the sound of skates growing louder.  She looked towards the entrance, and found the one person she was most worried about speaking to rounding the corner.  Hello, Joule.  The dynamite truck stopped in the little entrance to the alcove and raised a teasing eyebrow.

“You know you’re not supposed to wander off,” she said, chiding, and Slick rolled her eyes despite herself.

“I was told not to leave the room, do you see a door?  I’m still in the room.”  Joule grinned at that, crossing her arms.

“Got me there.”  She skated further into the little alcove, and Slick had the sudden realization that she, the dynamite truck with the dark dangerous eyes, was between her and the exit.

“What do you want?”

“I’m keeping an eye on you, of course,” Joule said with a shrug, “you can’t be left alone.”  Slick huffed out a frustrated laugh.  Of course she still couldn’t, of course this was the only reason Joule was here.

“Really?  You don’t talk to me all night but are willing to strike up a conversation because I can’t be left alone?”  Joule’s eyes were narrowed now, head slightly tilted as she absorbed Slick's words.

“So what is it?  Am I not pretty enough?”  Slick meant the words as a joke, but it fell a little flat.  She had never had to go to something like this before- suddenly it mattered how she looked.  It mattered how she looked to Joule .

“Not pretty enough,” Joule laughed softly, murmuring the words to herself, so softly Slick could hardly hear them.  Her eyes darted back up to Slick’s own, at once overwhelmingly fixated on the tanker.

“How are you feeling?  Be honest.”  Slick blinked at the sudden topic change, but frankly should have expected it.  Joule’s talent for turning a conversation on a dime and expecting her to be startlingly vulnerable was out in full force tonight.  Unfortunately, so was the way that Joule had been staring at Slick for weeks now- like she was something to chase and catch.  Or simply plan the demise of.  Either way not great, and the admission came unbidden.

“Like I’m being hunted.  By you.”  Joule looked delighted at the comparison, which only served to concern Slick more.

“Hunted? By me…” she repeated softly, eyes glittering.  She had started to drift closer on her skates, slowly enough that Slick wasn’t sure Joule was aware she was doing it.  Slick swallowed nervously.

“You’re like a jungle cat. Or a wolf.”

“I do like cats,” Joule mused, getting ever closer, “And a wolf!  Not a bad comparison at all.”  Slick backing up to try and keep her distance.  She hit the wall- fuck.  Joule was getting even closer now.  Five paces. Four paces.

“But I suppose that makes you something I hunt.  A mouse perhaps? No,” here she grinned.  Three paces. Two.

“A rabbit, I think.  You’re fast, and clever, but also adorable- and between you and me, a very good kisser.” One pace, even less than that.  Joule leaned forward, until her lips were brushing against the shell of Slick's ear- Slick was doing everything she could to keep her breathing even.  Her face was flushed- she felt hot.  Fear. Or- oh.  That was worse right now.

Joule's fingers were on her face now, cool against her heated skin, turning her head ever so slightly to give Joule access to her neck.  Slick shivered in- actually no.  She just shivered.  She was not going to touch why.

“My little bunny rabbit,” Joule murmured, and her lips began to trail down Slick’s neck, close to her throat and down to her collarbone.  Then, even lower, below the neckline of her shirt.

“Oh,” Slick breathed, little more than a gasp of air, as Joule left a trail of kisses where she went, moving her shirt aside until finally reaching the top of her bra.  Slick closed her eyes, and tried to concentrate on keeping her breathing steady.  It wasn’t quite working, and she felt Joule’s grin against her skin.  Then-

Joule bit her.  Joule bit her, and Slick yelped, far louder than she should have.  The sound echoed off the walls, and Joule’s had shot up to cover her mouth, fast as lightning.  The dynamite truck straightened back up as she did, using her body to fully bracket Slick in, and smirked at her.

“I thought we were very clear: don’t draw attention to yourself.  Yelling is kinda the opposite of that, you know.”  Slick's eyes widened with the arguments she could not make.  Joule had bit her , why was she in trouble-

Okay, fuck this.  If Joule wanted to play games, she could play too.

Joule stilled, grin freezing on her face as her head cocked and brows furrowed.

“Did-“ she began, still not moving her hand, “did you just lick me?”  Slick nodded with narrowed eyes; and for a moment, Joule blinked.  Then, they both heard it, their heads whipping towards the sound of wheels, approaching.  

“Damn it,” said Joule, sighing, “Killerwatt. This is your fault,” she said as she readjusted Slick's shirt, deftly buttoning it with one hand.  That was not hot, not at all.

“It is not,” Slick tried to say, but it came out muffled against Joule's hand.  Joule seemed to get the gist of it though, and smiled innocently at her.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite hear that, but I appreciate you agreeing,” she said sweetly, then leaned in close to Slick’s face. 

“And for the record,” Joule said, so close that she was all Slick could see, “you are so much more than ‘pretty enough.’”

She leaned down again, and unfortunately even knowing what was going to happen did not make it less hot.  She bit the junction of Slick’s neck, where throat and collarbone met, and this time it was a good thing Joule hadn’t removed her hand.  Her eyes fluttered shut, and her head hit the wall behind her as the sound of wheels grew louder.

“Damn it Joule, really? I thought Slick was getting murdered!”  Killerwatt, now sans jacket and also in the alcove.  The dynamite truck pulled away from Slick, looking unrepentant and unreasonably pleased with herself as she pulled a small handheld mirror from her pocket and began to fix her lipstick.

“And yet you came running,” Slick responded weakly, still recovering from the onslaught, and was rewarded with a light laugh from Joule.

“Yeah, you didn’t have to show up.  We were fine.”  Slick wanted to say that fine was a bit of a stretch, but Killerwatt rolled his eyes and grabbed Joule’s arm, pulling her along.

“We’re going somewhere private- you too Slick,” he added quickly, then spun around and released Joule arm before they could head out into the main hall, “act natural.”

Slick rolled her eyes, but did as he asked, and she rolled through the crowd with the other two in a bit of a daze.  Fortunately, no one seemed to notice anything amiss with the three components, and they were able to slip into a side room uninterrupted.  Electra, Volta, and Wrench were already in there chatting, and they looked towards the trio as they entered.

“It’s a good thing we’re leaving,” grumbled Killerwatt, “I found this one-“ he gestured to Joule, who simply smiled, “-trying to maul this one.” Another gesture to Slick, who hoped she didn’t still look as flustered as she felt.

“That is not what I did,” scoffed Joule, “all I did was bite her a little, you’re being dramatic.”  Silence, as the others processed this.  Then-

“Joule,” groaned Wrench, pinching her brow.

“Here, really?” That was Volta, looking tired and exasperated in equal measure.  Neither of them looked particularly happy, and Slick was almost scared to look to Electra to see their reaction.  She couldn’t imagine it would be anything good, and she felt her familiar fear creeping to settle in her chest.

“Slick, fix your shirt," instructed Electra, and she looked down to see one of the buttons had been done up wrong- thanks Joule - and hurriedly scrambled to fix it.  As she did, she saw Electra give her a further glance, and then, now seemingly uninterested, turn their attention to Joule.

“Why did you bite her?” They asked, and there was almost a note of curiosity in their tone.

“She looked biteable,” Joule shrugged, and both Volta and Wrench looked at her incredulously.

“What does that even mean -” Volta started, but was almost immediately cut off by Joule.

“I know you know-”

“Children,” sighed Electra, "I employ children.”  They looked like they deeply regretted asking, and for a moment Slick felt a pang of sympathy for them.  Only for a moment though.

The bickering might have continued had Killerwatt not turned to Slick, an annoyed expression on his face.

“This is your fault,” he said to her, and she sputtered indignantly.  In no way shape or form was this on her .  It was Joule who should be blamed, or perhaps-

“This is Volta’s fault if it’s anyone’s, leave me out of it!”  

“She bit you though,” Killerwatt was fixing her with an unimpressed stare.

“I didn’t ask her to, I just wanted some space,” she defended.

“We don’t trust you, you don’t get space!  You ruined tonight!” he said angrily, and Slick felt herself wilt ever so slightly.  This was more along the lines of what she had been expecting.

“Okay, hey,” that was Joule, coming to her rescue and grabbing the security truck’s arm, “Killerwatt, that’s a little harsh,”

“You’re the one who started all of this!”  He seemed to be getting ready to actually begin unloading onto Slick and Joule, rounding on the dynamite truck who stared back with a challenge in her eye, before an unexpected party stopped him with a word.

“Killerwatt.”  Electra had drawn themselves up to their full height, and was beckoning him over.  He did, though not without shooting a venomous glare at the two of them.  He skated in front of the electric engine, who Slick only now realized had Killerwatt’s jacket draped over their shoulders.  The engine began rubbing their hands up and down his arms in a soothing repetitive motion. 

“I had a good time tonight,” said Electra, seemingly only to him, but loud enough that the rest of them could hear it, and he nodded, “with you.  Nothing is ruined.

“Though Joule,” they said, looking sternly at the dynamite truck, “next time, not in public.”  Joule nodded.  They didn’t say anything to Slick, either back to acknowledging her existence as little as possible or because they recognized there was nothing to say to her was anyone’s guess.

They headed out soon after, Electra making the required social exits to their adoring public, expertly weaving the story of the fun they’d had and all the wonderful individuals they’d spoken to, and how thrilled they were to be invited to such an event.  The other party-goers bought into it eagerly, and soon they and their components were speeding into the night.

It was a short trip back to the compound, which Slick was grateful for.  She still felt a bit like she was moving in a daze, simply floating on the tracks and through the halls.  She felt like a part of her was still back in that alcove, Joule pressed up against her and telling her to stay quiet.  You are so much more than ‘pretty enough’ , she had said, and Slick shivered at the memory.

It wasn’t until later, when she was alone in her room, slowly taking off the layers of the outfit, that she noticed it.  She had been moving towards the closet, intending to hang up her shirt, when her eye had been caught by something in the mirror, and she peered at her reflection closer.

There, next to the bite mark on her chest, was a near perfect outline of black lips, done in such a soft press Slick hadn’t noticed until now, overwhelmed as she was.  Slick traced it with her hand- she could almost feel a tingle where Joule’s mouth had been on her.  The others knew about the bite (well, one of them, at least), but the kiss was between the both of them.

And if she laid awake in bed later, exhausted but yet again unable to sleep, and traced the mark with her fingers- well.  That was for her to know, and her alone.

Chapter Text

It was two days after the gala, and Slick was officially Electra’s finance truck.  It was both more and less of a change than she was expecting.

She had managed to successfully avoid Joule during this time- she still wasn’t quite sure what to make of The Joule Incident- what Slick had termed her actions at the gala.  She didn’t know what she would do if the dynamite truck asked her about it, or worse, asked her to be honest about it.

So, she had stuck close to the others- specifically Wrench and Volta; Killerwatt was still glaring at her murderously every chance he got.  Fortunately, with her new role, she also had plenty of work to keep her occupied, which was an unexpected but welcome distraction.

That morning, she had been shown to a new room within the compound, and informed that this space was hers for her job.  It was a study of some sort, one that held an entire wall of filing cabinets that had been surprisingly meticulously organized.  Only the filing cabinets though- scattered throughout the room, on the table and the desk and the couple of chairs present were boxes of papers and that could not boast the same, and much of her day had been spent rearranging them into some beginning semblance of order.  

Volta had been with her for the beginning part of the day (he had not offered to help move anything, asshole), and Wrench had relieved him at some point, opting to settle into the corner and work on her own paperwork.

Slick had determined she was finished moving around the boxes for the meantime, and had opened a new notebook, attempting to make a plan going forward to how to organize this- she hadn’t even touched the computer database yet.  Electra had essentially given her free reign, which doubled as both surprising and daunting.

She was determined to do a good job though- she may not like her employer but she would be damned if they called her work shoddy- just as she had done a good job crashing trains, she would do an equally good job with the records and the finances and the budget.  It was a challenge- not a bad one, there was so much that needed organizing- the sheer amount of tasks was overwhelming.

She had been attacking the plan with her usual fervor for a while (she had lost track of how long exactly) when she was aware of a shifting in her periphery: without looking, she knew it was Wrench.

“Slick,” Wrench announced, the tanker in question letting out a hum to show she was listening, “come on, we’re done for the day.”

“In a minute,” she said, eyes glued to her work, until a hand reached over and snatched her notes away.  She looked up to glare at the repair truck, who was standing over her holding her notebook, and giving her an unimpressed look.

“No, now.”  Slick sighed, but stood, and began to follow Wrench out of the file room, through the hub and down one of the halls, until they reached a new door.  Wrench pushed it open, and Slick was greeted with what appeared to be a lounge, complete with a fully stocked bar in the corner.

Volta was already behind the bar in question, and he raised his hand in greeting as they approached.

“Welcome,” he said grandly, and Slick took in the space properly.  It was littered with an array of couches and tables, with a brick fireplace on one side.  It was a comfortable, classy place, and while she and the others didn’t look out of place, she certainly felt it.

“What is this?” She asked, somewhat cautiously.

“Baby’s first day!” Volta exclaimed, jazz hands out in full force, and Slick could only stare in confusion.

“A congratulations on completing your first day in your new job,” Wrench clarified, “and an excuse for the rest of us to grab a drink- or four.”  Ah.  The real reason.

“Should have known it wasn’t only for my benefit.” Slick said drily, and Wrench nodded solemnly.

“You should have.”  Slick wrinkled her nose, and the repair truck shrugged, uncaring.

“ Anyways , pick your poison,” said Volta, gesturing to the bar, “chances are whatever you want, we can make it.”

“Um,” Slick looked at the array of bottles.  Usually when she drank it was less for the taste, and more for the ‘get drunk quickly’ aspect. “Something strong.”

“We can do that,” said Wrench, heading towards the bar counter.  Slick followed, and took a seat.  

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she began, a little cautious and a lot curious as to what the answer would be, “was Killerwatt acting weird, at all at the gala?  He and Electra just seemed to be- off.”

“If by ‘off’, you mean throwing longing glances at the other every time the other one isn’t looking at them and getting unreasonably upset with you?”  Volta said dully, reaching across the bar to pour himself a drink- something strong as well and bright orange, by the looks of it- “then no.  That was actually tamer than it’s been, usually they’re worse.”

Slick blinked.  How could they be worse than that?  Her question must have shown on her face, because Volta gave a commiserating grimace and poured another glass, sliding it to her.  Slick too a cautious sip.  The alcohol burned, as she knew it would, but it wasn’t bad.

“I know.”  Volta sighed, took a sip of his drink, “and if you ask either of them about it, you will not get a straight answer for the life of you.  It’s either a long winded speech about how committed he is to his job, or frantic concern that they might make him uncomfortable.”  He rolled his eyes, “it’s not good.”

“Volta,” Wrench, making a grabbing motion, and he rolled his eyes as he passed her his own drink, grabbing a third glass and pouring another.

“We just call them gay and tease Killerwatt about it mercilessly.  It’s about all we can do.” Wrench sighed and took a large swig of her drink, placing it down and snatching the bottle from Volta to top herself up again.

“They asked me if I could specifically make Killerwatt’s shirt the same color as their dress, and they’re both still convinced that the other doesn’t like them,” groaned Volta, putting his face in his hands, “it’s awful .”

“Have you considered locking them in a room together?” Slick asked curiously.  She wasn’t willing to take one for the team here, but maybe Wrench or Volta would be open to it.

“We tried,” said Wrench, taking a long pull of her drink, "unfortunately we forgot that Killerwatt is specifically designed to get Electra out of those sorts of situations.”  Oh. Yeah, that would throw a wrench in things (pun intended).  Slick took another drink, finishing hers off before grabbing the bottle by Wrench and pouring herself another.

“Just wait until we tell you about their living situation,” smiled the repair truck humorously,  “you’ll see what we’ve been dealing with.”  Slick gave her a hard look, and Wrench stared back evenly, a small smile playing on her lips.  Finally, Slick took the bait.

“What do you mean ‘living situation’?” She asked dubiously, and startled as Volta let out a laugh.

“You’re gonna hate this,” he said gleefully, “So- someone broke into the compound a while back, right? Managed to get into Electra’s room too.  And Killerwatt was freaking out and working overtime trying to up security measures.”

“But that wasn’t enough apparently,” Wrench broke in, “because next thing we know is at breakfast he’s suggesting he stays in Electra’s room overnight- for security purposes.  And Electra, who notoriously enjoys their space and privacy, just agreed.”  She took a sip of her drink, considering.  “In fairness to Killerwatt I think he really did suggest it as a security measure, but now they’ve been cohabiting like this for months .”

“Wow.  That’s… that’s really bad.”  Slick was staring wide eyed, and Wrench nodded.

“Yeah.”

Slick did not get the chance to press further, for at that moment the door opened and the object of conversation skated in.  Killerwatt was as seemingly serious as ever, beelining for the bar and giving nods to the other two and a special scowl reserved for Slick.  In response, she raised her glass to him and drained it dry.  Then she stuck her tongue out at him as he glowered.

“Killerwatt,” Wrench said in greeting, and the security truck afforded a small smile to her, turning towards the repair truck.  As he did, Volta, who was refilling both Slick's drink and his own, leaned over to the tanker.

“New game,” Volta whispered to Slick, who raised an interested eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Every time Killerwatt is gay over Electra, we drink.”  Slick huffed a laugh at his choice of words.

“What about Wrench?"

“She’ll catch on,” said Volta softly, “it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done this.”  Slick smiled, feeling the familiar tickle of mischief brewing.  She had missed the feeling.

“Sounds good.”  They grinned at each other, then quickly turned back towards the other two.  Slick was careful to school her face quickly, as Volta began a conversation with the security truck.

“So, Killerwatt,” the freezer truck began casually, “How are things?”

“They’re fine,” replied the security truck, pouring himself seltzer water, and nothing else.  Slick looked to Volta, and found him already rolling his eyes.

“I wanted to ask you about you dancing with Electra the other night,” Volta asked with an evil grin, “I didn’t know you could waltz.”  The arm Killerwatt was pouring with jerked once, before the security truck was able to mask his reaction.

“I can’t,” he said, eyes fixed on his drink, “but they talked me through it.  They’re a very good teacher.”  Slick had to look at her drink in an effort not to laugh at the security truck’s stiffness, and quickly took a drink.

“I’ll bet,” Volta said, setting his glass down after his own drink, “They seem like they’re very good at talking you through things, right?”  A glance at Killerwatt showed that the innuendo had sailed over his head completely as he nodded earnestly.  It didn’t help that Volta had a look on his face that screamed innocence even as he took another sip of his drink, prompting Slick to do the same.  

Wrench was watching this with a calculating expression, and when she caught Slick’s eye, the tanker grinned at her, raising her glass in a mock toast.  The repair trucks mouth twisted in a way Slick took to mean that she was hiding a smile.

“They are,” said Killerwatt, “but I stepped on their skates at one point, and they said it was fine, but I know I shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” he actually looked relatively torn up about it, and Slick almost wanted to tell him it was okay- almost.  She remembered how he had rounded on her after The Joule Incident and began to blame her, and took a long pull from her drink instead.

Volta scoffed, “If you stepped on their skates and they didn’t immediately bite your head off, you’re fine.  Remember what happened when Wrench had to cut their jacket off for repairs?  And that was an emergency .”

“Speaking of,” he said as if it had just occurred to him (Slick would bet anything it hadn’t), “does our dear little tanker here know why Electra was wearing your jacket?

Killerwatt, reminded Slick existed, glared at her and muttered something, beginning to blush that luminescent glow.

“What was that?” Volta, the instigator, cupping his hand around his ear.

“They asked me if they could borrow my jacket because they were cold,” Killerwatt said, and then buried his face in his hands as he did, his words seeming to catch up to him, “I should have known they would be, I’m terrible -“

“Killerwatt, Electra runs hot,” Wrench said with a tired sigh, “you had no reason to assume they would be cold.”  As she spoke, Volta and Slick made eye contact, and each took a drink.  Wrench rolled her eyes but followed suit.

“And- wait,” Killerwatt had seen them drink, “what are you doing?”  The jig was up. Damn.

“We’re playing a game,” Slick started.

“Every time you get gay about our boss we drink,” finished Volta, and Slick held her glass out to clink it against Wrench’s.  The repair truck took a gulp of her drink, not putting the glass down until it was empty.

“ Wrench ,” Killerwatt was shooting the repair truck a look of betrayal, and she shrugged.

“It’s getting bad Killerwatt,” The repair truck said this without an ounce of remorse, and turned to grab a bottle of something bright green from the shelf.

“You are all the worst,” Killerwatt said without bite, slumping onto the counter, and Slick shrugged.  She had worked with diesel engines before, and they did a lot worse than name calling when they were mad.  She’d live.  A glance at Volta and Wrench confirmed they were similarly unaffected.

“Hello all!” A cheery voice said, and Slick turned to watch as Joule skated in, twirling as she stopped, “what are we doing?”

“Joule, welcome,” said Wrench, with a teasing smile, “I take it nothing exploded?” 

“Nope!”  Joule smiled, then turned thoughtful, “Well, nothing I didn’t want to explode, anyways,” 

“Good,” nodded the repair truck, “I’d hate to replace another pump.”  She said it with a straight face, like it could be construed as a joke, but Slick stared at her wide-eyed.  Replacing a pump was akin to open heart surgery- how badly had Joule gotten hurt before?

But Slick was tipsy now, well on her way to drunk, and it was hard to focus on any one thing for too long- she was distracted by movement next to her, and realized Joule had taken the neighboring seat at the bar.  Sober Slick probably would have been more concerned about this, but Slick with a few drinks in her system now had the ability to find everything pleasant and slightly funny, and so did not mind.    Joule was here, and she liked that fact- Joule was fun, and always smiled, and always cared about how she felt.  She liked Joule, even as some part of her was confused at that fact.

She hid an unwitting smile behind her drink, retaining enough composure to remember that she wasn’t supposed to be too happy to see the dynamite truck, but wasn’t entirely successful as it was returned by Joule as she bumped their shoulders together.

“So, Volta and Wrench filled you in on our unfortunate situation regarding our beloved security truck and engine?”  Slick nodded, handing her drink over and grabbing another glass for herself.  

“We’ve made it into a game; join us, why don’t you?”

“Oh, yes ,” Joule cheered, grabbing the glass Slick had slid over and downing it in one go, “I better catch up.”  Slick laughed lightly at that, perhaps finding it funnier than she should have.  She was pleasantly floaty, and moving felt a little like swimming through syrup, and Joule was smiling.  Off balance, she realized she had leaned into Joule slightly, and the dynamite truck had an arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she stole Slick's new drink as well.

“Ugh,” groaned Killerwatt, pushing off from the counter, “well, I’m still on duty, so I’ll leave you to your probable hangovers.  Don’t do anything stupid.”  He looked at Slick specifically, which she took offense to- if she was gonna do anyone, Joule seemed pretty smart, actually- and skated out of the room.  They all watched him go.  Then-

“We stage a kidnapping,” Slick began, sitting up straight again and stealing the empty glass in front of Joule back as the dynamite truck took a swig of her new drink, “Killerwatt gets to be the knight in shining armor and save Electra.” Joule snorted into her drink and Slick slapped her arm, grinning.

“We could trip Electra, so Killerwatt catches him,” Volta said thoughtfully, pouring something strong and bright blue into Slick's glass.  She took it with a nod in thanks.

“We could just pretend that they told us they’re dating a while ago and correct them every time they tell us we’re wrong,” said Wrench, and the other three stared at her.  She flushed luminescent, “What, none of yours were any more realistic.”

“She’s right, they’re all bad,” Joule stage-whispered to Slick who giggled in response, falling into Joule as she did so.  Joule's arms raised up to catch her, soft and warm, and for a moment Slick just wanted to stay there.  But.  This was the first chance she had gotten to have fun since being kidnapped.  She wouldn’t waste it.

“Volta, is there any way to play music in here?” She asked, hopping off her chair, and Volta grinned.

The rest of the night passed in flashes- Slick remembered tasting some bright purple concoction Wrench had created, and laughing at Volta as he demonstrated the proper way to take a shot.  She remembered spinning on a dance floor to a strong beat, stumbling slightly, and swapping drinks with Joule, enjoying the burn of the alcohol.  She remembered swaying down the hallway to her room, Joule curled in her arms, her head resting in the crook of her neck, and laying down in her bed among soft sheets and warm arms.

Distantly she registered that something about this was off, but was too tired to care.  That was a problem for future Slick.  But for present Slick, all that mattered was that for the first time in weeks, she was able to sleep soundly.

Chapter Text

Past Slick was an optimist and an asshole.

That was the first thing that came to mind as Slick woke up the next morning, wincing at the light streaming in through the windows.  Her head was pounding, as if someone was striking an anvil within it.  Hangover.  She winced, and hurried her face into her pillows to block out the light- or at least, what should have been her pillow, but was instead someone’s head.  Reflexively, her arms tightened, and she realized that she was cuddling someone, wrapped around them like an octopus.

It had only just occurred to her that she was not supposed to be in bed with another person when said person stiffened and shot up, pushing Slick away and onto the floor.  She hit the ground with a thud and groaned as she looked up at the person who was still in bed.

It was Joule, which Slick probably should have seen coming.  She had a vague memory of carrying the dynamite truck down the hall- clearly they had ended up in Slick’s room.  She was staring down at Slick, head craned over the side of the bed.  She looked as confused as Slick felt, and as bleary as she did too.  Well. First things first.

“Did we have sex?” Slick asked bluntly, and Joule gave a slow sleepy blink before seeming to take stock of herself, looking down at the blankets she was covered in with a confused frown.  Slick herself was in pajamas, but it was always a good idea to get on the same page for this sort of stuff.

“Uh…”  Joule seemed to be taking stock of herself as she paused, “I don’t think so?” she finally replied, squinting in the bright sunlight.  The stabbing feeling in Slick’s head was getting worse by the second, and there was really only one thing left to do, now that the most pressing question had been answered.

“Scoot,” she mumbled, crawling back into the bed with Joule, who already seemed to be falling back asleep.  The dynamite truck raised her head slightly as Slick settled back in, pulling the blankets around the two of them, the tension leaving her body as she sighed.

“What are you-“

“Shhhh. Hangover.”  Slick had already closed her eyes, and the words came out soft, barely audible.  Still, Joule seemed to get it, and settled down into the blankets.  Everything was still for a moment, until Slick felt arms wrap around her, a reversal of how they had woken up.  Joule said nothing though, and so Slick allowed herself to drift off, in the warm sunshine and soft blankets and the pretty girl.

She came back to herself later, though she wasn’t sure how long had passed.  She felt surprisingly well rested, all things considered, and took a moment to simply stare up at the ceiling.  After weeks of being unable to sleep through the night, of battling chronic fatigue with the adrenaline of being surrounded by the electrics, it was a nice reprieve.

Speaking of electrics, however, Slick had a problem: namely the dynamite truck in her bed, who during their nap had migrated from lying next to Slick to lying on top of her, arms wrapped around the tanker.  Slick could feel how their legs had become tangled together as they had dozed.

Joule’s head was on her chest, arms wound around her waist.  Slick could feel Joule’s breath tickling her sternum, and she found to keep her breathing steady.  She needed to get Joule off of her.  Slowly, she reached down to grab Joule and push her to the other side of the bed, but as soon as her hands met Joule’s sides, she froze.  There was… an unexpected development.

As this was Slick’s room, she must have had the foresight to change into her pajamas before bed- she was wearing black satin pajamas (because even the pajamas had to scream obscenely wealthy) with silver buttons and piping- but this wasn’t Joule’s room.  This wasn’t Joule’s room, so the electric had simply stripped, and was currently lying against Slick in only her bra and underwear.  Fuck.

Joule was warm under Slick’s hands- planes of smooth, soft, heated skin that rose and fell slightly with the truck’s breathing.  The silver makeup Slick could see on her face shone slightly in the sunlight, and she smelled like gunpowder and cinnamon.  She seemed comfortable there, curled on top of Slick, and Slick slowly withdrew her hands.  She wanted Joule off of her, but Joule looked peaceful- she didn’t want to wake her up.  This was a problem.  A major problem.

She tried to remember what had happened last night around the residual pounding in her head.  She had carried Joule, she could remember that much, but drew a blank after that.  Maybe Joule had fallen asleep? She didn’t know where Joule's room was, but she knew where hers was, and so they must have ended up here.  That would explain it, but that didn’t solve the issue of the truck on top of her- who was now beginning to wake up.

Joule shifted on top of her, arms tightening and brow furrowing slightly as she woke up fully.  Slick didn’t dare move as Joule opened her eyes and craned her head up to stare at Slick sleepily.  Slick could only stare back at the dynamite truck, who even half asleep and recovering from a night of drinking as she was (they were never doing that again), was utterly beautiful, sparkling in the sunlight.

Joule quickly sat up, but rather than getting off of Slick as the tanker had hoped, she sat up to straddle Slick instead, peering down at her with an intense, searching expression.  It was unclear what she wanted, and Slick was having a hard time breathing under the scrutiny.  Then-

Quick as lightning, Joule grabbed the hem of Slick’s shirt, pulling it up to expose her stomach.  For a moment Joule stared, and Slick was frozen, unsure exactly what Joule was searching for.  Eyes wide, Joule reached out to run her fingers down Slick’s exposed skin.  It tickled slightly, spreading goosebumps where Joule’s fingers grazed.  The shock of the sensation was enough to snap Slick out of it.

“Um-” she grabbed her shirt, pulling it back down.  Joule didn’t stop her, the dynamite truck seemingly frozen, hand outstretched, with a light luminescent flush on her cheeks.

“Joule?” Slick asked tentatively when the dynamite truck had not moved in several seconds.  “Are you alright?”  That seemed to snap Joule out of it, and she blinked once, before collapsing on top of Slick.  Slick let out a breath of air as the wind was knocked out of her lungs as Joule curled up on top of her.

“Joule-“ but she was cut off by a hand in her face as Joule pressed her own face into Slick's stomach.

“Don’t look at me,” the dynamite truck exclaimed, the words slightly muffled against Slick’s shirt.  Her hand was blindly reaching for  Slick's face, trying to do something- either push her head back or cover her eyes, Slick couldn’t be sure.  Either option was annoying- Joule could do this elsewhere.

“Get off of me,” she complained, and tried to push Joule off of her.  This failed spectacularly, devolving into the two of them fighting for the upper hand in a tangle of limbs on the bed.  Joule was taller, which gave her some advantage with longer limbs, but Slick had been patched up by Wrench, and was strong from years of working in the freight yard- it was an easy fight, in that it wasn’t much of one at all.

Finally, Slick emerged victorious, leaning on Joule, knees on top of Joule’s thighs so she couldn’t move.  She was pinning each of Joule’s hands with one of her own wrapped around each wrist, but when Joule thrashed again in an attempt to throw her off, she trapped both Joule’s hands with one of her own, and used her other hand to push down on Joule's sternum to keep her still.  She looked down at the dynamite truck under her, now fully subdued, and smirked.

“You wouldn’t last a day in the freight yard if this is how you wrestle,” she smirked.  Joule’s eyes were wide, pupils so big that it was like Slick was staring into the pools of oil she normally transported- wait.  Wait a second.  Slick paused, and took the situation in fully.

Slick was straddling Joule, having barely broken a sweat in the brief skirmish- but Joule was another story.  Joule was breathing far more heavily, cheeks bearing that luminescent flush that was steadily darkening as she stared up at Slick.  

“I- I didn’t know you had abs,” she muttered breathlessly, and Slick froze, staring down at her.  She could feel her own blush returning as she realized that Joule was still in the matching silver bra and underwear, and nothing else- and, if her reactions were anything to go by, was very into what was happening.

“Huh,” she managed, but was saved from saying anything further by her door opening.

“Alright, I gave you the morning to sleep the hangover off, but-“ Wrench cut herself off abruptly as she saw the position Joule and Slick were in, which Slick realized too late probably appeared far more compromising than it actually was.

“It’s not what it-“ Slick started, but Wrench held up a hand as she closed her eyes.

 “I’m not dealing with this, take the day.”  She skated back out the door, and both Slick and Joule heard her say, “just… no,” right before the door swung shut. Slick tried to scramble out of bed, no clear plan beyond chasing Wrench down and explaining herself, but her legs caught in the blankets, and for the second time that day she found herself on the ground with Joule leaning over her.

“This is your fault,” she wheezed, recovering from the impact and glaring weakly up at the dynamite truck.

“I’m okay with that.  Come back to bed?”  That was Joule, still breathless and staring.  Slick didn’t dignify that with an answer, and instead turned towards her dresser, intending to get dressed.  She got about halfway through unbuttoning her shirt before it occurred to her that to do so she’d have to get undressed in front of an audience- the truck who was still in her bed.  

She turned back around and found Joule lounging among her pillows, staring at her.  Their eyes met, and Joule grinned shamelessly, settling on her forearms and raising her eyebrows.  That settled it.  It was time for Joule to go.

“Alright,” Slick skated over to the bed, and pulled Joule out of it.  The dynamite truck came easily, likely due to her surprise at the action.  “Don’t you have your own room?” once Joule was steady on her skates, Slick began pushing her towards the door.

“Yeah, but-”  But whatever Joule was going to say would remain a mystery as they reached the door, which unlocked as Joule drew nearer.  Slick pushed her into the hall, then dashed back into her room to quickly gather up the truck’s plating and underlayer, shoving it into Joule’s arms.  Was Joule now standing in the hall in her underwear?  Not Slick's problem.

“Go there.”  She didn’t give the flustered dynamite truck a chance to respond as she slammed the door, leaving her on one side and Joule on the other.  

She stood there a moment, listening intently.  Would Joule come back in? Or try to say something through the door? Or simply skate away?  But she heard nothing at all, and finally had to conclude that whatever Joule had decided, it did not involve speaking to her again.

Slowly, she turned back from the door, to face her plain white room.  It was empty as ever, and seemed even more so now that she was alone again.  Slowly, she crossed her room, and sat down shakily on the bed, thoughts of getting dressed forgotten.  Her head still ached a little, and the light was beginning to hurt her eyes- and of course, Joule had left her feeling more off kilter than ever.

She had forgotten, in her drunken and hungover state, to be wary of Joule.  Joule, who had cornered her at the gala and who cared about her feelings and who knew how make her vulnerable and didn’t want her to lie and who had kidnapped her-

Joule, who confused her, above all else.  She had forgotten that Joule wasn’t her friend- that none of the electrics were.  Their plan was revenge, a lesson to learn.  She couldn’t let herself forget again.  She had let her guard down the last few days- but the fact remained- she was still waiting for the other skate to drop.

Groaning, she buried her head in her pillow.  It smelled like gunpowder and cinnamon, and she closed her eyes.  Sleep did not come again- but by now she knew not to expect it.

Chapter Text

Date the document.  Determine its relevance: archive or reference.  File it accordingly.  Repeat.

She was stupid.  

Date.  Determine.  File.  Repeat.

She was so stupid.

Date.  Determine.  File.  Repeat.

She was in the little office, or study, or storage area- whatever you could call the room where she was supposed to work.  She had been told it was hers, but- no.  That was a lie.  It had to be, because everything else was.

It hadn’t really clicked until hours after she had woken up in bed with Joule- thanks Joule.  At first, Slick had been confused at the dynamite truck’s reaction to waking up on her- Joule’s breathless “I didn’t know you had abs” ringing in her head.  She had seemed surprised, maybe?  Eager?  If Slick were a little less realistic, delighted might also fit the bill.  It had made her wonder.

Date. 

Why exactly had she been so surprised?  Slick supposed that Joule could legitimately be surprised by her physique- it wasn’t necessarily like Joule had seen much before, what with her old yellow uniform and now her white and silver one- they weren’t exactly form fitting.  But- even as Slick’s stomach fluttered at the idea of Joule liking what she had seen- no.  She couldn’t forget herself like she had been.  All this time, Joule had simply been pursuing her as the jungle cat Slick had likened her to.  She wasn’t really interested in Slick- she just wanted to watch Slick squirm.  That was all it was.  

Determine.

That was all it was, she thought, even though it made something in her chest hurt to do so.

Her comment of not being pretty enough, and Joule’s reassurance that she was- but it had only been in her gala attire.  Maybe she wasn’t otherwise- Joule had messed with her before, but hadn’t really commented on it otherwise.  Maybe on the day to day she wasn’t, and for some reason the thought hurt more than she expected.  Slick had never cared before; she didn’t know why she did now.

File.

Nevertheless, she had let her guard down..  She couldn’t allow it to happen again.  She couldn’t - she didn’t know what would happen.

Slick turned her attention from the now finished files to her desk.  She had acquired copies of several of Electra’s current contracts, specifically the ones which would be up for renewal.  Based on a brief skim of a couple of them, there was plenty to amend.  She had yet to get access to their accounts (the permissions of her position only went so far), but it was clear that the initial impression she had still held: they were obscenely rich.

It was strange, she knew, to dedicate so much time and effort to work for an engine who hated her and she hated back.  But it helped to have something to do while she was stuck here, and Slick prided herself on a job well done.  That, and, as she had figured out after the first few days in this new job, she would actually be left alone in the room if she was working- she was probably still under intense scrutiny and the door was most likely locked like her bedroom, but it seemed that since everyone else still had their jobs to do, and watching her while she did hers was less productive for the others.

The others.  She was an idiot for getting even slightly comfortable around them- she was here to be punished .  The job, the celebration, several nights ago now, Joule - they were all trying to make her complacent, each in their own way.  They had to be.  Get her comfortable, give her a proper job and purpose, flirt with her-

They weren’t her friends.  They were friends, and coworkers, and united in the fact that Slick had gotten involved in a race and they blamed her for the fallout.  She had to remember that.  They had kidnapped her, and trapped her in bogus employment- they didn’t care about her.  They couldn’t.  

They didn’t - Killerwatt still hated her, and Electra barely gave her the time of day.  Both Volta and Wrench had only warmed up to her so much as to complain about their boss and coworker’s will-they won’t-they situation.  And Joule- so forward at the gala, and wanting her honesty, and strangely interested in her- she had almost convinced Slick that maybe there was something there.  For a moment, Slick had thought- she had thought maybe-

She remembered how she had felt buzzed, and missed the carefree certainty of the version of her that had simply been happy to see Joule- but it wasn’t real.  She had been complacent.  And ending up in bed with the dynamite truck- what had she been thinking ?  Sleeping with her- she had let herself be so vulnerable - she was lucky everyone else had been drinking too.

She couldn’t think about Joule for too long without completely spiraling- from the start the truck had the knack for finding Slick at her most vulnerable- hiding after the crash, or when she had been missing her siblings and Momma.  Asking her questions that cut too deep, and being legitimately curious about her answers.  It had to be because Joule enjoyed toying with her, not because she was interested.  She was doing this as simply another layer of making Slick suffer.

It scared her, how easily Joule could see through her carefully constructed smokescreens.

These realizations had not helped anything- she felt as cornered as she had always been, and the exhaustion was beginning to catch up.  She had been having trouble sleeping before, but now her concerns were dialed up to eleven- impressive, since she had thought she was there before.  She had not slept a wink lately, expecting at any moment for her door to be unlocked and her reckoning to begin.

The exhaustion from the past weeks and now this heightened stress was beginning to catch up with her in earnest too- she was running on borrowed time, and definitely not firing on all cylinders.  She hoped it wasn’t noticeable.  She was good at hiding that stuff- no one had caught on to the fact she was in fight or flight before, now would be no different.  It wasn’t going to be noticeable.  

It wasn’t , and she just needed to stay away from Joule so the dynamite truck didn’t ask her any questions that would accidentally reveal any of this.  She could do that: she had already been avoiding Joule for days now, and by some miracle it was working.

A hand landed on her shoulder and she just about jumped out of her skin- she had been so engrossed in her work and worried about everything that she hadn’t heard anyone approach, let alone enter.  Stupid .  

It was Killerwatt, which she was grateful for.  He had never pretended to feel anything other than hatred for her.  As it was, the security truck was staring at her with a mildly displeased look on his face.  She sighed, and turned to face him fully, crossing her arms as she did.

“What?”  He said nothing, still staring, and she couldn’t stop herself from shifting slightly under the scrutiny.  He was the most intimidating of all of the other components, and the hardest to read as well.  Finally, after she was thoroughly concerned (and slightly terrified- she was alone with the security truck who hated her guts), he spoke.

“We’re heading to a local race soon.”  That was good news- something to break up the monotony of the compound- but there was a catch.  There had to be.

“Alright,” she said, waiting.

“You are going to spend the entire time with one of us.”  

“Fine.”

“You may see other racers you know.”  Other racers… someone from her yard would be here.  She wondered who- certainly not a member of her family, or there was no way she’d be allowed to go- but who else? One of the other engines?

“You are not going to help another engine win, or cause a scene.”  So she had gathered- it was unlikely she’d be able to slip away long enough to do so anyways without someone noticing- though the pay would be nice.

“Obviously.”

“There will be consequences if you do.”  Consequences.  There were always consequences, or the threat of them.  She wondered what would happen when she finally faced them.  Maybe Wrench would dissect her in the repair truck’s lab.  Maybe Killerwatt would finally get to teach her that lesson.  Maybe Joule would be there at the end, to hold her with that awful gentleness and ask her for honesty one last time.

“Do I make myself clear?”  Killerwatt was watching her with steely eyes, and Slick realized she had yet to respond.

“Crystal,” she gritted out.

“Good.”  He looked around the space, at the desk she had strewn with Electra’s current contracts, and her notes of what could be improved once they were up for renewal.  He drifted closer, studying the desk’s contents, and Slick watched him, tensing in preparation of defending her work.  His eyebrows raised, but he said nothing, and she didn’t ask what he thought.

“Come on,” he said, and he started towards the door.  She didn’t move, staked to the ground by the unfinished work that littered the desk.  Once he realized she wasn’t following, he turned back with a scowl.

“I’m not done yet-” she began, but he held up a hand to cut her off.

“You’ve worked over the maximum recommended hours in a day.  Wrench will never let me hear the end of it if you overwork yourself.”  That was… a weird reason to want her to stop, and she blinked in confusion.  Maybe it was to ensure she operated at peak performance for as long as possible.  Maybe it was to ensure he didn’t have to drag her to Wrench if she collapsed.  Whatever the reason, he had skated a little closer, and Slick realized he was serious.

“Okay, fine, let me clean up first,” she said, turning towards the desk but being careful not to fully turn her back to the security truck.

“You have thirty seconds.”  Or else , he did not say, but Slick heard it all the same.  Hurriedly, she stacked her papers, and tried to make sure her notes were all with their corresponding contracts.  She wasn’t sure she was successful, but at what could have only been the thirty second mark, she felt a hand on her arm, painlessly but firmly pulling her away.  There was no give in his grip, and he did not let her go until they were in the hallway, the door to the office closed firmly behind them.

“Come on,” he said again, turning and beginning to skate down the hallway.  Slick followed him of course- she had no other choice.  They headed back to the central hub, over towards the comfortable seating area.

Wrench was already there, reading a book- some engineering journal, by the looks of it, with graphs and schematics Slick couldn’t make heads or tails of.  The repair truck looked up as they approached, inclining her head in greeting.

“Took you long enough,” she said, and Slick realized that there were cards on the coffee table, as if the two had been playing a game not long before.

“I got her, didn’t I?” asked Killerwatt with a shrug- and wasn’t that statement concerning, that they had clearly been talking about her- sitting down on another chair and making himself comfortable, before eyeing the tanker who still hadn’t moved, “Slick, sit down.”

“And how is our newest workaholic?”  Wrench asked lazily, closing her book and setting it aside, “Swamped in projects yet?”

“I was almost done for the day,” Slick complained in a huff, sitting down.  The chairs were dangerously comfortable, a fact she had never been more cognizant of.  But she had been, really- another hour or two and she would have been at a good stopping point.

Wrench’s eyebrows raised, and she shot Slick an unimpressed look, almost as if she had read Slick’s mind.  Could she read Slick’s mind?  No, of course she couldn’t.  Her paranoia was starting to get to her.

“You’ve worked later than you should have every day since you started.  Killerwatt was under orders to drag you out if you resisted.”  Of course he was; he was probably hoping he’d get to.

Killerwatt coughed, a cough that sounded suspiciously like “hypocrite.”  Without looking away from Slick, Wrench threw a pillow at him.  It would have hit its mark dead center if not for Killerwatt throwing up his forearm at the last moment to block it.  It bounced off harmlessly, and onto the floor.  Slick watched it land, and turned back to Wrench, who was still watching her.

“Don’t cross me.”  Her words were punctuated with a wry smile, but Slick knew better.  This was a woman who could take her apart- most likely had, actually, when she had fixed Slick up.  She still didn’t know the extent of the damage, or how long exactly she had been completely out of commission- no one had told her, and after Killerwatt’s reaction last time she had asked, she didn’t know how to broach the subject again.

So now here she was, with the security truck who hated her and the repair truck who could take her apart.  Together, they were more than capable of shutting her down- and that was only the two of them, not to mention Electra, and Volta, and- and Joule.

She didn’t know what exactly her face was doing, but Wrench did, and snorted at whatever she saw there.  She leaned forward, grabbing her book and reopening her page.

“Just something to keep in mind.”  Slick swallowed, and kept her eyes on the repair truck, studiously ignoring the burning gaze from the other occupant in the room.

“Right.”

Chapter Text

Slick wasn’t supposed to be here.  She was not supposed to be here.  But here she was.  Alone, in Joule’s room, as the door slid closed behind her.

It had started earlier that day.  Slick was tired, and the couches and chair in the hub were officially too comfortable to sit on without the possibility of falling asleep, which she would not do.  She would, under no circumstances, become vulnerable in the room where literally everybody regularly came to.

So, she had begun doing laps of the hallways that snaked off of the hub- around and around and around.  It was keeping her alert and moving, which was good, even as she had to stifle a yawn in her hand.  And if anyone asked, exercise was a good enough reason as any to be moving.

The only issue was that even when apparently exercising, she wasn’t getting a moment’s peace.  Volta had taken it upon himself to follow her around, trailing a few paces behind her.  Slick had increased her speed accordingly, and he had in turn increased his own speed to keep up, until they were practically speeding circles through the compound.

“We have a track if you want to use it,” he called, exasperated, as they both took a tight turn back into the hub, “a gym too.”

“There’s a couch if you want to use it,” she called in return, and she could hear him snort.

“Who knows what you’d get up to if I did.”

They were skating down one of the hallways now- Slick didn’t know which one as they had all blended together, when suddenly she had an idea.  She skidded to a sudden stop, yanked a random door open and dashed inside, turning around to gloat at Volta.  She intended to slam the door in his face and laugh, but her plan was derailed at the look of surprise on his face.

“Didn’t know you could do that,” he said with a look of surprise on his face.

“Do what?”  Slick asked, confused- did he mean open a door, because what ?- when suddenly he had skated into the room with her and pushed her back out into the hallway.

“Let’s go, Joule will probably kill us if she knows we were in her room.”  He pulled the door shut behind himself, and Slick caught a burst of color before the door clicked shut.  Volta had ushered her back into the hub, where Electra and Killerwatt had been standing by one of the screens, discussing something.  Neither paid the components any mind save for a glance over as the two entered, which Slick was glad about.  

At Volta urging, she sat down on one of the couches, and was surprised when the freezer truck sat down on the other end of the couch as opposed to one of the other chairs, slinging his skates into her lap and reaching for his sketchbook.  She pushed his skates off of her but he simply put them back in her lap, eyes never leaving his sketching.  She did it again, and he put his skates back into her lap without a word, until she grew tired of the back and forth.  

Slick sighed, and settled back on the couch, bouncing her leg to keep herself awake.  When that failed, she pinched herself, the small jolt of pain serving to keep her conscious.

Being trapped as Volta's skate rest gave her time to consider what she had learned- namely, the location of Joule’s room.  She couldn’t deny the fact she was curious about it- the opportunity to find out a little bit more about the dynamite truck.  The dynamite truck who definitely did not like her.  The dynamite truck she was also currently avoiding. 

So, she had waited until Electra and Killerwatt had left, and Volta had grown bored of his activity, skating to put his sketch book away with a stern “don’t move.”  Really, it was on him for thinking that was enough of a warning- as soon as the sound of his wheels faded, she was up and skating down the hall to Joule’s room.  Hopefully she would be back before he came back and would be none the wiser, or would think one of the others had asked her to accompany them.

Now, she was here, standing just inside Joule’s room.The door had been unlocked, which struck her as odd- her own room was locked while she was in it- why would Joule leave it unlocked while she was gone?  Nevertheless, a quick cursory glance revealed the room was empty, so she slowly skated further into it.

Joule’s room had the same layout as hers, and the same standard furniture, but that was where the similarities ended.  The room was an explosion of color- fitting for the dynamite truck.  Garlands of red and blue and orange ran across the ceiling, adding warmth to the room, and a rainbow-colored rag rug decorated the floor, with a beanbag chair in one corner.

Pinned to one wall was a long length of jewelry chain, from which hung metal charms in a variety of different styles, all shaped like stars or planets or fireworks.  They glittered slightly as Slick approached them.  Framed next to them were several certificates in pyrotechnics and demolitions handling, which Slick had no idea those were things you could get certified for.  In her world it had always been more trial and error more than anything else- you figured out what exploded or you would explode, which was a great incentive for doing something right the first time.  She turned away from them in favor of approaching the vanity instead.

Joule’s vanity was in a similar condition to the room at large- the similarities with Slick’s own began and ended with the fact that it was the same type of vanity at its base.  Upon it were several different colors of makeup, the silver and black that they all wore but also red, orange, and yellow.  Flames. In one corner of the vanity was a small vase of beaded flowers and vines that resembled fireworks too strongly to be coincidental, the glass baubles throwing colored light onto the vanity and catching in the mirror.

Speaking of the mirror- there were small photos wedged into its frame, and Slick leaned in carefully to study them.  She tried not to catch her own eye in the mirror- she was used to seeing her reflection be something so foreign to what it once was, but tried to avoid the reminder when she could. 

Upon closer inspection it was photos of Joule and the others- a photo strip of her and Killerwatt making faces in a photo booth, a picture of Electra and Volta on a podium accepting a trophy, a shot of Wrench, standing over a work table with welder in hand and poised to pull down her helmet.  A shot of her and Electra, Joule sitting atop the engines shoulders, both grinning wildly.  And another- a newspaper clipping of a clearly younger Joule, still platinum blonde but with small red streaks in her hair, standing next to Electra and the others.  None of them looked like the cohesive unit she knew them as, and Slick realized that the shot she was looking at was likely one of the first public appearances that Electra had made with their components.  Idly, she wondered what the article had said.  

All of the other photos followed the same vein- pictures of Joule with the others, or pictures of simply the others, presumably taken by Joule.  It was clear how much they all meant to the dynamite truck, and Slick found herself swallowing around a lump in her throat.  She felt like the intruder she was more than ever, and she tore her eyes away, turning completely from the vanity to survey the other side of the room.

There on the far wall was a poster of- was it a tiger?- with cloud-textured orange fur and stripes that seemed to fall off of it in ribbons.  The animal wore a black mask with the ribbon-stripes falling off of it onto the floor, and Slick drew nearer to it, entranced and oddly unsettled.  This was a jungle cat, like Joule- a nonsensical appearance perhaps, but one that still screamed at you to be on alert.  How fitting.

She was still peering at it when suddenly there was a tap upon her plating.

“Having fun?” A voice asked, and Slick nearly jumped out of her skin- as it was, she did trip over her skates trying to turn, and ended up in a pile at the feet of- fuck .

Joule, the object of her curiosity, was grinning down at her, arms crossed.  She made no move to help her as Slick scrambled upright, only watched with an amused smile.

“Now,” she mused, tapping her chin lightly, “what to do with you?”  Slick swallowed again, this time finding it difficult to do so out of nerves rather than anything else.  That was not a good sign- Joule’s eyes promised mischief.  What did you even say in your defense when you got caught breaking into your coworkers room?

“Um-“ Slick began awkwardly, “nice place?”

“Of course it’s nice, I decorated it myself,” Joule’s words were dismissive, but the way she practically lit up told Slick that she seemed to appreciate the compliment all the same, “This is why we don’t leave you to your own devices, you know.  You do stuff like this.”

She was drawing closer, and Slick found herself rolling backwards to keep the distance between them, until she hit the wall.  Crap.  This felt very familiar.  She shivered, and hoped it wasn’t noticeable.  Joule was still skating forward with that smug smile, and Slick hoped that she hadn’t been too obvious.

“Did you at least check out the bed?”  Joule asked her, and Slick unwittingly glanced over to it.  It was a queen sized bed with a comforter containing an explosion of color to rival the fireworks Joule was so fond of.  It also looked supremely comfortable to a very tired Slick, with four little stuffed sheep resting upon it.

“We should have come back to yours the other night,” she said blurted, then froze as both of them realized what Slick had said.  Joule's eyebrows rose.

"Because- because your sheets look soft," Slick stammered.  Based on Joule's expression, this was not helping things. The dynamite truck was still smiling but there was the lightest flush on her cheeks as she drew ever closer, leaning into her space until the dynamite truck’s mouth was right next to the tanker's ear.  This was very familiar.  Slick shivered despite herself.

“Slick?” Joule's voice was soft, tickling her ear. 

“Yeah?” Was it getting hard to breathe in here?

“Get out of my room.”

Slick didn’t need to be told twice.  Pushing off from the wall, she sped around Joule, who did not turn to watch her go.  Slick didn’t have time to question that, however, as she skated out the door, down the hallway and back into the hub.  Volta was there again, with a book this time, and looked up as she approached.  There wasn’t any mistaking the look of judgement he gave her as she approached.

“Joule’s room? Really?” he deadpanned.

“I was curious,” she defended, and he snorted.

“We have cameras, genius.  Killerwatt told her the second you entered her room.  You just missed him actually.” Here he paused, and seemed to take her in more fully, carefully scrutinizing the other component.

“I’ll be honest, I’m surprised Joule left you in one piece.  We totally expected her to take your head off.”  Slick had no doubt who ‘we’ was- the only question was whether he meant that literally or figuratively.

“Oh well,” Volta sighed, turning back to his reading, “maybe next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Slick shot back, painfully aware that she was digging herself deeper with every instance that she couldn’t let the bait lie.

“No?  Did you find whatever you were looking for then?”  His question made her pause.  She had been looking for more insight into Joule- and she supposed she had technically gotten that.  But Joule’s reaction had only served to confuse her more.  Joule’s earlier words came back to her: Now, what to do with you?   Slick shivered, then realized Volta was still watching her, waiting for an answer.

“I’m going to my room,” she said instead, and skated off before he could respond.  She skated down the hall as quickly as she could, being sure to flip off one of the many cameras that followed her movement before dashing inside.  The door was unsurprisingly unlocked, but the lock immediately engaged as soon as she was in.  Figures .

Now she was alone in her room at least- a relatively safe zone where she could at least get some warning before someone came after her- maybe Killerwatt, for sneaking off, or Joule herself, if she decided to actually bite Slick’s head off for breaking in.  It was always a possibility.

She flopped down on her bed, groaning.

We should have come back to yours the other night.

“Idiot.”  She tried not to read into Joule’s reaction to her words, but it was impossible- it seemed the dynamite truck occupied her mind whether she wanted Joule to or not.  She was surprised at Slick’s words, surprised enough that whatever new way to mess with Slick she had planned had been thrown off.  Slick would pay for that at some point, she knew.

There was nothing left to do now but agonize over the things she had or hadn’t done, and Slick knew she had all night to do so, for sleep was an old and distant enemy.  She lay on her bed, as she always did, tense and jumping at every small sound, waiting for the inevitable moment her door was opened and the punishment she had been promised began.

And as always, when she imagined the day her reckoning was upon her, it was Joule they sent to make her pay.

Chapter Text

If Slick were being honest, she would say that racing wasn’t really her thing.  Sure, she had participated- mostly to fix the outcomes for whoever had paid her, but she had never truly gotten the appeal of the actual sport.  They already traveled the tracks for work, why would you do it for fun?  But no one had ever asked her, so her opinion remained only her own.

What she did enjoy, however, was the atmosphere- nothing beat the roar of the crowd or the thrum of the engines, low and constant below it.

It was the thing she was looking forward to most as they entered the arena where today's race would be.  It was a smaller race, not like the championship races held at Troubadour- this one was not for a title, but rather for prestige, an opportunity for engines to rack up wins in the off season.  Or it would be, had Electra not been competing.  Slick had been told that they had won this one every time they entered it, and none of the other components expected this one to be any different.

Electra was racing with Volta in this one- apparently they normally raced with the freezer truck and had for years, but hadn’t in the championships due to his recovery from elective surgery (no one told Slick for what, and she didn’t ask).  Not wanting to miss out entirely, Volta had picked a racer that he was certain wouldn’t advance instead.  This story had been relayed to Slick by Wrench and Volta himself, the two of them rather smug about having gambled and won that particular bet on Green Arrow.

As such, Volta and Electra had separated from the other components as soon as they had arrived- heading into a locker room to get ready for the race and practice running the track, leaving the others to their own devices until the races started.

That was where they were now- in the foyer of the arena, waiting for the doors to open so they could head in.  Slick was sitting on the ledge of a planter, idly rolling her wheels to stay awake while Joule was chattering everyone’s ears off about looking at the concessions, or the merchandise, or-

“Do they have flags here? Wrench, we should have brought flags!”  Wrench rolled her eyes but afforded her friend a small smile all the same.

“I’m sure they have flags, we can look at them as soon as the doors open and the crowd dies down a bit.”  Joule cheered at that, spinning around on her skates in delight and throwing an arm over Killerwatt’s shoulders.

“We should get popcorn too, that seems like the sort of thing they’d have here- come on Killerwatt, back me up!”  The security truck was spared from answering as a commotion occurred a ways ahead.  The doors had opened, and the other trains present surged towards the entrances, flowing around the electrics and where the four of them stood.

“ Now we can go look at flags,” said Killerwatt, and Joule grinned, bright and beaming.  Slick tried not to think about that look too much.

The three turned to set off into the crowd, and Slick stood to follow the trio, but as she did, a hand clasped around the collar of her uniform.  The stiff metal plating dug into her throat, making it impossible to breathe, her vision beginning to blur as she fought for air.  She couldn’t scream, couldn’t even speak, and all she could do as she was dragged backwards was watch the others’ backs retreat through tunneling vision.

She was dragged through a side door as she thrashed desperately, fighting both her attacker and for air.  Finally, the grip loosened, and she gasped roughly as she threw an elbow back, glancing over her shoulder to see… Green Arrow.  Shit.

The taller train caught her elbow easily, wrenching her arm down to her side and spinning her around roughly as she tried to take stock of where they were, systems still working in overdrive at the renewed access to air.  They were in an area that she realized was under the bleachers of the arena.  Slick could hear the pounding of skates on the metal and concrete as the awaiting crowd made their way to their seats.  She stared at the diesel engine as he took in her appearance, looking her up and down with a critical and unfriendly eye.

“Slick,” he seemed a little surprised, “it is you.  You look… different.”

“Arrow,” she rasped in return.  It always paid to be cordial with your contacts, even when said contacts had choked you out, “been a while.”

“It has,” the engine mused, staring at her all the while, “none of us were very happy when we found out you'd just up and left, you know.  That you’d sold out.”  Oh.  Of course.  They all thought she’d taken the job willingly, of course they’d be mad.  But what was the alternative? Tell the truth, how she’d been kidnapped and forced into this instead?  No.  Slick was too proud for that.

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said, crossing her arms, and he chuckled.  It was not a happy sound, and at once Slick realized she had skated into uncomfortably familiar territory.

“You aren’t sorry yet, tanker, but you will be.”  His grin had taken on a dangerous edge as he began to advance towards her, and as Slick could hear the roar of the distant crowd she realized for the first time how much she wished one of the other components was here.

Suddenly, there were hands grabbing her shoulders, and maneuvering her behind them carefully.  She caught a glimpse of angular rectangular plating on the individual now in front of her.

“Killerwatt.”  Green Arrow smiled but there was no humor or warmth in it.

“Green Arrow,”  returned Killerwatt, stoic as ever but with a note in his tone Slick didn’t recognize.  There was a hard edge to it, a warning she hadn’t heard him use before, “can we help you?”

“No, thanks.  Me and Slick were just catching up; right Slick?”  Arrow's eyes were hard even as his tone turned jovial, and she nodded as Killerwatt turned to her for confirmation.  This didn’t placate the security truck as he looked her over, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly before he turned back to the diesel engine.

“We should go.  Don’t talk to her again.”  Arrow scoffed incredulously, arms crossing.

“Don’t be like that K, I was just saying hi-“

“My name is Killerwatt,” said the security truck tersely, “use it.”

“Come on, I raced with Volta-“

“Volta isn’t here right now.”  Killerwatt’s stance shifted slightly, menacingly, and Slick had the sudden image of a trap, spring-loaded and just waiting to be sprung with one wrong move.   There was no threat in Killerwatt, only promise, and it seemed that Green Arrow had also come to that conclusion if his slowly darkening features were any indication.  Finally, Killerwatt spoke again.

“They’re going to begin announcing competitors soon.  You should get going.”  Arrow glared, but turned to do as Killerwatt had suggested.  A few paces from leaving the area, he turned back, looking directly at Slick.

“Good to see you, Slick.  The others will be glad to hear you’re doing well.”  And with that, he disappeared, leaving the two components alone.  

Killerwatt said nothing for a few seconds, only stared in the direction Arrow had gone.  Finally, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, still not looking at her.  Shakily, she nodded.

“Y-yeah.”  She started to roll forward, to catch up with him so the could make their way back, but was halted by his next words.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she swallowed roughly, and tried to keep moving, but he stepped in front of her, making her stop and look at him properly.  

“What. Was. That?” He asked slightly more forcefully, and she felt herself shrink a little.  His eyes were intent, and if she hadn’t known better (but she did, after all this time) she would have almost thought he was worried.  The idea was preposterous.

“ Nothing , Killerwatt, he just wanted to tell me they- they missed me at the yard.  I wasn’t trying anything.”  She realized as she said this she had been massaging her neck- a dead giveaway- and as casually as she could she put her hand down at her side.  His eyes tracked the movement.

He was studying her with a strange expression on his face, one she couldn’t quite decipher.  Finally, he nodded once, and placed a hand on her arm- not grabbing, strangely, just resting there.

“You don’t talk to him again.  Let’s find the others.”  She nodded, recognizing the admonishment for what it was, and followed after him, too shaken to put up a fight.

They headed back, out of the restricted area they had been in, through the entrance to the bleachers and climbed up the stairs of the stands and into a private box.  Figures: of course the electrics would have a private box when they could.  Wrench and Joule were already there, sans flags unfortunately, chatting idly, and they both looked up as the pair arrived.

“Where were you two?” Wrench asked, and Killerwatt shrugged, taking a seat next to her.

“Sightseeing.”  He responded flatly, crossing his arms, and leaning back, “you all make my job more difficult.”  He didn’t say anything else about what had happened, and for that Slick was grateful to the security truck.

“But you looooooove us anyway,” cooed Joule, reaching over to pinch his cheek.  He swatted her arm away, but did not refute the statement.

“Slick!” That was Joule again, smiling as she spotted her and waving her over to the only other unoccupied chair, “sit, sit!”  

The cheers from the other spectators reached a new pitch, and Slick realized the races must be starting- she could see the brightly colored figures making their way out onto the track, announced one by one.

“You look terrible,” murmured Joule, and Slick  gave her a tired glare. 

“Thanks,” she grumbled, and was rewarded with a light laugh from the dynamite truck, “no flags?” she asked instead, hoping to change the subject.

“Nah.  Once Killerwatt realized you were missing he wanted us to head up here instead, and he’s a good security truck: when he says something he’s generally right.”  She was very certain about this statement, and Slick found herself hoping that Joule’s faith was slightly misplaced.  She didn’t want Killerwatt reading into what had happened between her and Arrow.

Joule, oblivious to her internal dilemma, leaned in slightly, so her words wouldn’t be over heard by the other two, who were watching the race announcements intently.  

“You can take a nap, you know.  I won’t tell.”

“I’m not tired,” Slick tried.  She knew it wouldn’t work- she was exhausted- but she wasn’t just going to fall asleep here, with the others so close.  It wasn’t safe .

“Right,” said Joule with a snort, “not at all.”  She pulled Slick slightly towards her, until her head was resting on the dynamite truck’s shoulder.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time to leave,” whispered Joule, “but you need some sleep.”  She was stroking the nape of Slick’s neck, right where Slick had been grabbed previously- this was a vastly preferable feeling.  

The combination of Joule’s hand, the distant sound of announcer’s voices, and the constant cheer of the crowd served to be the perfect storm.  Her eyes fluttered closed without meaning to, the cheers of the crowd fading into a wash of white noise.  She could feel Joule’s arm shift and wrap around her, but couldn’t muster the strength to push it off.  She wasn’t sure she wanted to, either.  She was so tired - this was nice, even if it couldn’t last.

She drifted along the current of drowsy tides, not actually asleep but as close as she had gotten in a while.  Joule’s plating was pleasantly sun-warmed, and Slick was aware of how the dynamite truck’s arm would periodically tighten around her to keep her stable when she was in danger of slumping forward or slipping off of the offered shoulder.  It felt like even when she began to lose track of her own limbs in her sleepiness, she was still aware of Joule.

And your winners, Electra the electric engine and Volta the freezer truck!

She jolted back to awareness at the cheering, and the movement of Joule's clapping.  Electra had won. Unsurprising frankly, even though she wasn’t their biggest fan she wouldn’t have bet against them.  She was glad to see, however, that the emerald green figure currently storming off of the track hadn’t even placed.

She turned to look at the others celebrating- Wrench and Joule were cheering as she had expected, watching Electra and Volta on the podium, but Killerwatt was not.  The security truck’s gaze (and everything he was capable of) was trained solely on her, with an unreadable searching expression on his face.  He didn’t seem embarrassed or worried about the fact she had caught him watching her, only slowly turned his attention back to his friends down on the track.  She swallowed sharply, a move that still hurt, and readjusted her collar ever so slightly. 

He’s a good security truck , Joule had said.  Stars, she hoped not.  Unfortunately, what everything about her situation had taught her so far, it was that the universe didn’t care what she wanted or hoped for here- a good security truck would be able to see through her weak excuses and remember this to use against her.

No one seemed to notice that she didn’t say anything as they met back up with Electra and Volta, the other three congratulating the pair on their win.  Electra and Volta, for all that they had expected to win this race, did seem to legitimately appreciate the congratulations of the others, even the small, shaky smile and nod she sent their way.  Maybe it was different when it was your friends offering it- Slick wouldn’t know.  The only race she had even been in had landed her here.

It had landed her here, in quiet contemplation as they sped back to the compound, Killerwatt’s grip on her couples as steady and final as ever.  She felt his eyes burn into the back of her head, and chose the coward’s way out.  She did not look at him again, for fear of what she would find there.

Chapter Text

It had been a week since the race, and Slick was doing great.  She was!  She was finally settling into her new role, and was realizing how easy it was to avoid literally everyone else in the process.  She hadn’t seen much of the others in days, save for the few times she had seen them in the common area, but frankly it was for the best.  It felt like there were a myriad of reasons to no longer see the components- they all definitely still hated her, for one, but individually as well.  

Volta still seemed to insult her every chance he got (she hadn’t jumped him again but it had been a near thing), while Wrench had been difficult to face since the whole Bed Thing, where she had totally thought Slick and Joule were hooking up.  Slick didn’t know exactly what Joule had said to Wrench since then, but it clearly had not endeared the repair truck to her.  

Joule was still Joule- the enigma wrapped in a mystery that all seemed so simple at a glance, simply a smiling someone who liked to laugh.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  The truck who didn’t really like her but had thought she could be pretty, who had made Slick get some rest (and wasn’t that impressive, given Slick’s track record- though looking back on it, the only times she had gotten any semblance of a good night’s sleep had been with Joule) and who was doing her best to make Slick complacent until she was caught off guard by the reckoning that was surely coming.

And Killerwatt, the security truck who hates her above all the others, who since the race had seemed to be watching her every chance he got: not the hungry, hunting, oil-dark eyed stare Joule gave, but something more calculating, eyes narrowed in a way that made Slick feel very small.  He and Electra made a good team in that respect.

Speaking of Electra- the engine was as elusive as ever, having no time for the finance truck they had shoehorned into the position.  She didn’t see them often, but when she did, Killerwatt was their ever present shadow- even more reason to steer clear.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to be able to for this.  She had been working on a proposal for one of the contracts that was coming under review in the next couple weeks- a compilation of the ideas she had that could make the partnership better- they had the potential to save thirty percent of current costs within the contract, but she had to finish it first.

She sighed; it was time to clean up.  She was definitely working overtime- and if she wasn’t finished soon, someone (hopefully not Killerwatt, but probably Killerwatt, because her luck would be that bad) would come to yank her away.  She gave one last minute once over to her work- it was a report she’d submit soon for Electra’s consideration.

Wait.  That graph- notating weekly spending over a period of six months- why was the large spike in March not reflected in her data table?  Confused, she flipped back to the original document she had pulled her numbers from.  That graph was important, a section of the proposal was all about how to get costs lower for those weeks.  All of the numbers had to match, she just needed confirmation the table was wrong-

It wasn’t.

“No,” she breathed out, horrified.  She had missed a zero.  She had missed a zero and her calculations for the graph were off by a magnitude of ten throughout the entire report.  The section was useless, and the entire thing would need to be reworked.

“No no no no no-“ She scrambled to look at the other pages- maybe it wasn’t a reoccurring typo, maybe she hadn’t throughly fucked it up-

But she had.  Somehow, in her increasing exhaustion, she had missed it, and days worth of work went down the drain.  Fuck. Fuck .

She was going to have to redo everything, as quickly as possible- if any of the others found out it would be seen as an act of sabotage against Electra.  Then, her real problems would begin- and though she knew to expect them, she did not want to face them over something like this.  Not when she had made an honest mistake-

Her arm caught one of her files on the desk, and the papers within spilled out onto the floor.  All she could do was watch them fall, the white ream of paper floating to the ground with a thwip.

“No,” she whispered again, less frantic now and more numbly horrified.  Slowly, she knelt down and began to gather them, the smooth white pages slipping under her fingers as she tried to arrange them into some semblance of order.

She had fucked up, big time.  Not only this report and the mistakes made within it- and she had really messed it up- but this entire situation.  She should never have thought any of this was a good idea- she should never have offered to race with Electra-

“Slick?”

That was Killerwatt standing just inside with Joule holding onto his arm, and Volta and Wrench in the doorway, because of course it had to be all of them when she was at her lowest.  Of course they’d all want to see her biggest screw up and finally make her pay- of course it would happen now, oh stars she was screwed -

“Slick, you’re crying.”  It was Killerwatt who had spoken, a frown on the security truck’s face as Slick sniffled, reaching up to wipe at her eyes.

“Oh.” She said quietly.  She hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her panic to realize that there might be another cause to her blurry eyes.

“You’ve worked too long again,” said Joule, for once not smiling, brows furrowed, “we decided to come get you.”

“You need to stop doing that, by the way” Wrench interjected, arms crossed, “you’re helping no one when you do that.”

It was a strange admonishment from Wrench, she thought- she would have thought that anything that made her more on edge would be a good thing to this group, but surprisingly not.

“What are you working on anyway?” Asked Joule, and Slick tensed as they all began to advance.

She drew back as they approached, until she hit the edge of the desk and could go no further.  The movement was innocuous on its own but Slick knew better- they were circling, the vultures ready to pounce on their prey they had been tracking for too long.  Volta skated behind the desk, looking at the papers she had left there.

“What’s wrong?” He asked,  leaning slightly over to see what she had done.  She resisted the urge to swipe the papers away- it was too late.  He would see, and they all would know.  But maybe if she could convince them it wasn’t an issue, maybe, maybe ,  she could get out of this and figure something out.

“It’s fine,” she said, though she could tell from everyone’s faces that no one believed her, “I got a papercut and knocked over some papers.  I’m overreacting.”  She wiped her nose on her sleeve, and chanced a glance at the security truck.  Killerwatt’s eyes flickered to Joule, Wrench’s following the motion.  The dynamite truck’s arms were crossed as she stared at Slick, eyes narrowed.

“You’re lying.”  She stated, and Killerwatt and Wrench’s eyes flicked back to her.  She flushed.  She hadn’t expected Joule to bring that up in front of people, and she had no defense.  The others had looked to her for confirmation, for stars’ sake- they knew this was something Joule could do.

There was a shuffling behind her, and she remembered- Volta was still here, closest to the papers she now knew were full of mistakes.  She turned to see him peering at the desk and fiddling with a paperclip that had laid on the corner.  She had to make sure that he didn’t touch the papers-

“Come on,” a voice said at her shoulder, and she startled, spinning around to see Killerwatt standing far closer to her than she’d realized, “It’s late.  Time to go.”

“Wait, no, please -” she was frantic now, terrified- where did Killerwatt want to go?  Was he angry that they had all had to come to collect her?  He was mad that she had lied about why she was upset- was this the breaking point?

“Slick, calm down,” Wrench, eyes narrowing, and she spun to face the repair truck-

“What are you working on, anyway?”  That was Joule, skating past her and Killerwatt, skirting the desk to join Volta, who was-

“Volta, don’t,” Slick made to grab it, but he had already picked up the report, flipping through the pages and taking each of them in a Joule peered over his shoulder.  All she could do was stand there, painfully aware of the security truck at her back and the repair truck burning holes into the side of her face.  Finally he looked back up, closing the packet with a thump.
“It seems fairly comprehensive; what’s the issue?”  He was waiting expectantly for an answer, and stars, she wanted to cry again.  How had he not seen how bad this was- did Volta want her to be the one to tell the others?

“The- the numbers are wrong,” she stammered, “I messed up- the whole thing is wrong -” Her voice cracked, and she crossed her arms over herself, grasping her arms in an effort to hold onto something .  He was staring at her, uncomprehending, and Slick knew she was struggling to articulate the problem adequately.

“It was an accident,” she stressed, and he nodded slowly.  She had to get that point across- she hadn’t meant to.  She didn’t dare look at any of the others to see their reactions.

“Well, you caught it, right?”  Joule asked.

“Yes, but-”

“And it hasn’t gone out to anyone?”

“No, it’s-“

“So it’s fine.”  That was Volta, handing the papers back to her with a small shrug, and she took them bemused, “You can fix it tomorrow.”

“I- tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically, “it’s what we call what happens after the sun rises again.”  Slick was silent staring at him, and he shifted slightly on his wheels.

“This is the part where you insult me for implying you don’t know how days work,” he said drily, albeit a little unsurely, but she still didn’t rise to the jab, simply stared, upset and confused.  None of them seemed to understand why she was so concerned; conversely she did not understand why the others weren’t furious with her.

“I don’t understand,” she finally managed, voice smaller than she wanted it to be.  

“Let’s go let you lie down,” suggested Joule, looking at her with an odd expression, Volta nodding with a strange expression of his own.

“And stop doing this,” groaned Wrench, “overworking yourself helps no one.”  Slick did not have time to do more than think about what an odd thing that was to say before Joule grinned, and skated over to Wrench, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“I know what we can do: movie night!"  Wrench smiled, looking at Joule and nodding.

“Nothing with explosions tonight please,” the repair truck said, “I don’t want to hear about how they’re improperly handling their explosives.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.” said Joule, sticking her tongue out but skating away towards the door all the same, “Fine, we can watch a nature documentary or something, I guess .”

“As fun as this has been,” interjected Killerwatt, “let’s go.”  He too skated to the door and out it, the others filing through behind him.  Slick placed the papers back onto the desk, and slowly followed.

The others were headed down the hall, and Slick could hear the conversation from the quartet, who- hadn’t looked at her once, she realized with a start.

No one was looking at her, and she suddenly realized she couldn’t recall the last time someone had done so in that distrusting glare she had come to expect from the others.  Or the last time she had done her work with someone constantly breathing down her neck- she had been left alone.  That was the whole reason she had been able to be grabbed by Green Arrow- no one had been watching her .  They had all simply trusted that she would follow.  Trusted, to some degree, her .

The idea rocked her world- like the floor under her skates was suddenly the high seas, pitching this way and that.  It was impossible, fantastical.  They hated her.  They wanted to take her apart.  They- they flirted with her to get her to slip up and let her guard down.  They couldn’t . And yet… at some point, without her noticing, they had.

She looked towards the others again.  Joule and Volta were right ahead of her, Volta laughing at something Joule had said, while Wrench and Killerwatt skated right in front of them, deep in conversation.  They weren’t looking at her, trusting she’d follow.  And, on shaky legs, she did, beginning to skate forward after the quartet.

Normally, this would have been fine.  Normally, Slick could have relaxed, and skated to catch up to the others, and everything would have been fine- a good night may have even been on the cards.

But this situation wasn’t normal.  Nothing about this situation and how she’d gotten here were normal. Slick hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks, since she arrived really, and had been wound so tightly in fight or flight mode, jumping at her own shadow and bracing for the worst from the others.  And as it was, between her shoulders un-tensing and the shock of the realization flooding her chassis, her systems couldn’t take the sudden shift.

She blinked.  She was on the floor now- when had that happened?  Everything was heavy now, and she blinked a few more times, trying to come back to herself.  It wasn’t working- if anything it seemed to be making her vision swim more, the lights in the ceiling swaying when before she had been certain that they were embedded in there.

She was quite comfortable actually, here on the floor, now that she thought about it, though distantly she could also hear some form of commotion- loud but indistinct, and she wished that whatever it was would be quiet.  Hey eyes were getting heavier now too, and she was finding it a struggle to keep them open.  

Shapes slid in front of her vision, and she felt pressure on her cheeks, as a figure in white and silver swam into her view, and she smiled slightly despite herself. Joule . 

Joule was here, it would be okay.  She looked upset though, and Slick didn’t like that- didn’t like that at all.  She tried to reach an arm out to Joule, to let her know everything was alright, but- oh yes.  Everything was heavy, and it was getting dark.

She suddenly felt light, weightless, and wind on her fingers- she had been lifted, and above her she could see Joule, mouth moving as she looked to someone skating beside her.  Slick didn’t know who.  Her eyes were only for Joule, as her head lolled slightly to the side.  Just Joule, looking frantic and periodically glancing down to double check on her.

Well, that was alright then.  She’d be okay if Joule was here.  She had been last time, after the crash, even if she had been hurt and scared too.  Joule had kept her word. Reassured by the dynamite truck’s presence, Slick allowed her eyes to close, and did not open them again.  

A sound echoed inside her head, like a computer shutting off.  If she could have laughed, she would have- her, shutting down like a computer!- but then darkness overtook her, and the little component surrendered to a deep sleep, cradled in an embrace that smelled like cinnamon and gunpowder.  The loud noise grew louder, but Slick was no longer awake to hear it.

Chapter Text

Joule had never been a worrier.  That was Killerwatt’s job, or maybe Wrench’s, or on an especially bad day Volta’s- but never hers.  She had faith in herself and her abilities, accepted the things she could not change, and trusted her friends to do their jobs to the best of their abilities.  That’s why Electra had hired them, after all- they were the best of the best.

So, when she had brought Slick to Wrench- when it turned out that Slick had been worse off than she had realized, out of commission for weeks on end, she hadn’t been worried.  Wrench was the best repair truck Joule had ever met, she would fix Slick.

And when she had realized that her feelings for Slick went beyond just anger over the crashing, had begun to realize that against her better judgment she had fallen for the little no-longer-oil-truck, she had come up with the idea to require Slick’s honesty when she asked.  And when Slick had started working for Electra, and had been skittish yet receptive of her advances, Joule hadn’t been worried.  They had time.

And then came the gala.  And the day they woke up together.  And when Slick had begun pulling away and avoiding her, Joule hadn’t been worried.  She had started a new job, and clearly hadn’t been sleeping well, but that was normal.  So she did what she could.

But then the four of them had found Slick in her office, having worked herself to a panic, and hadn’t known what was wrong.  They had calmed her down, and she was going to rest.  They were fixing it.  And she had looked away for a second- just a second - and Slick had collapsed, shutting down abruptly in her arms.  She couldn’t be roused, entirely limp as Joule sped to Wrench’s repair shop, hot on the repair truck’s heels.

“Put her on the work bench,” instructed the repair truck, rolling to her wall of tools and beginning to select various implements Joule did not know the names or functions of.  She did as Wrench had ordered, laying Slick down as gently as she could upon the hard metal surface.  

Still no response from the tanker, and Joule could do nothing but stare.  Slick was lax, her face more serene than Joule had seen it in weeks- a horrible realization.  Slowly, she reached out a trembling hand to brush Slick's hair back.  Everything had been fine- she had looked away for a second - she had been laughing at Volta, for stars sake Slick had been okay -

“Wrench,” came Killerwatt’s voice, and Joule jumped, spinning to see the security truck holding a packet of something- metal sensors, she realized, the sort that depending on where they were plugged in could tell Wrench about a train’s electric current, or hydraulic pressure, or digital hookups.  What it told Joule, however, was that Wrench didn’t know what was wrong with Slick- she was just covering her bases.

“Start placing them,” instructed Wrench, and he skated to do so, placing the sensors on Slick’s head, neck, and wrists.  Joule could only watch, shifting anxiously on her wheels.

“What can I do?” she asked.  She wasn’t trained in emergency field repairs like Killerwatt, but surely she could do something besides stand here.

“I need you to step out.”  Joule did not respond to Wrench’s request, eyes not leaving Slick’s prone form.

“Joule.”  Killerwatt had been forced to stop his work, and Wrench had skated closer to Joule.  She turned to the repair truck again, who was staring at her with a sympathetic look on her face.  Of course Wrench would look at her like that- she had only been waxing poetic to the repair truck about Slick daily- Slick, who had collapsed -

“What can I do?”  She asked again, borderline desperate.  She didn’t want to go when they didn’t know what was wrong, when Slick was just lying there -

“You need to leave.  You’re going to be in the way.”  Wrench’s eyes darted to Joule’s hands, and she realized she was still stroking Slick’s hair.  She withdrew fully, though she hated to do it.

“I can help,” she insisted, and bristled as Wrench shook her head.

“No, you can’t.”

“You don’t know that-“  Joule started, but was cut off by Wrench turning away, heading towards a monitor Killerwatt was attaching inputs to.

“Volta?”  She asked, Joule felt a hand on her shoulder: Volta, ushering her out.  As he did however, there was a beeping noise coming from the monitor- one that caused Wrench to look sharply towards the unmoving Slick with no small amount of concern, and Killerwatt to look to Wrench, waiting for direction.  

“We’re doing a full examination,” Wrench said to the security truck, “get the hydraulic lines.”  Her words caused Joule to stop short.  Wrench would only need those to outsource the load managed by the internal pump- Wrench was worried about Slick’s new pump -

Volta had to all but drag her out of the room- she was not fighting him, but had frozen in place.  Lucky him, that she was on wheels.  The last thing she saw before the door closed was Killerwatt beginning to loosen Slick’s plating as Wrench began to examine the readouts from the sensors on her computer.  Then, they were in the hall.  

She was still staring at the closed door, unmoving, when she felt hands grasp her own, coaxing them open.  She had been clenching her hands tight, and as Volta loosened her fingers she could see crescent indents on her palms.

“Joule, take a deep breath,” instructed Volta, massaging the feeling back into her hands, thumbs pressing into the center of her palms.  She nodded, gasping, and distantly realized she was shaking, badly enough to be skittering back and forth on her wheels.  If not for Volta’s grasp on her, she probably would have ended up on the floor.

“We’re going to sit down now, alright?  Just until Wrench comes and gets us.”  She nodded, and he carefully guided her to the floor, until they were both sitting opposite the door, her head on his shoulder and hands intertwined.  They were quiet for a while, as Joule focused on her breathing.  Finally, Volta spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?”  It was a stupid question, and he knew it.  He knew given the chance Joule would always talk about it.  Tonight was no different- given an outlet, the words poured out of her in a disjointed panic.

“I don’t know what happened- Volta, we were right there, she was fine -“

“I know.”

“I was trying to give her space but she’s looked so tired lately- I tried to get her to sleep at the race- I thought things were going well -“

“Joule, this isn’t on you-“

“ Stars , what if it was her upgrades and I never noticed-“

“Joule-“

“Or her computer, maybe it didn’t integrate-“

“Joule!” She was breathing hard again- she was ignorant , she was awful -

“Slick is with Wrench,” Volta said.  Slowly, firmly, “she’ll figure out what’s going on.  And Killerwatt is helping her.  Slick is in good hands.”  He rubbed her back in a comforting manner, and she slumped into him, eyes closing.

“I’m worried too,” he said softly, and she did her best to get even closer to him. 

“I’m not worried,” she said quietly, not looking at him.  And it was true.  She hadn’t been worried before, she wasn’t now.

“No?”

“I’m scared,” she whispered instead, and his arm tightened around her.  They were quiet for a little while as they sat in the hall, Joule leaning into the freezer truck and focusing hard on the chill of his plating.  Beyond the closed door, Wrench was undoubtedly still working on Slick- who knew what had happened there.  Hopefully Killerwatt had not truly needed to step in beyond his help with the initial set up, but the fact he had remained inside was not reassuring. 

“You know,” Volta said conversationally, breaking the silence, and she looked up at him, cheek still pressed to his plating, “if you had told me before the championships that we’d end up working with an oil truck of all trains, and that we’d actually care about her, I would call you crazy in a heartbeat.”  He was sending her a teasing smirk as he said it, and she couldn’t help but huff out a weak laugh.

“I’d probably ask if you had gotten in the way of one of Electra’s lightning bolts.”  She returned- they had all had the unfortunate experience of an accidental zapping and temporary scrambling via the electric engine’s electricity.

“Or if you’d let Wrench mess with your hard drive.”  They both laughed at that, then descended into silence once more.

“You like her,” he said suddenly, and she sighed, nodding.  She did, despite her best efforts- had since she had found Slick after the championship, impressed with how even so injured the tanker still had the foresight to get herself to a relatively safe place- not that it had worked, of course, but it was the thought that counted.  And ever since, she had only become  more enamored with the tanker as she learned more about Slick: who she was and what she could do.

“You do too,” she deflected weakly with a wobbly smile.  She knew he did- he would never engage in his game of insults with her if he didn’t.  The tackling and hair pulling had been new though- Joule suspected he’d never had someone react quite like that.

“She’s like the little sister I never wanted,” He said drily, “an absolute brat.”

“Like recognizes like, I guess.” He gasped in mock offense, and Joule found herself giggling in earnest.

“Killerwatt said she grows on you.”

“He said ‘like a fungus,’ you can’t forget the ‘like a fungus’!”  He whacked her arm and she pushed back playfully.

“A very pretty fungus though,” Joule said thoughtfully, and Volta groaned.

“You have the worst taste in women.”  Was all he said, and Joule would have tortured him with exactly how far her interest had gone- he didn’t know anything except what she had done at the gala, and he definitely didn’t know that Slick totally liked her too- when suddenly the door to the repair shop opened, and Wrench skated out.

 Joule shot up instantly, scrambling to her skates, Volta standing as well.

“Well?” Joule asked, more than a little impatient, and Wrench stared at nothing for a moment before turning to the two of them.

“She’s stable; it was a minor cascade failure.  She’ll be taken off the work rota for the next few days to recover.”

“But what caused the failure?”  Joule pressed, more concerned now, and Volta put a hand on her arm.  She was getting worked up again, and somewhere through her distress she hoped Wrench wouldn’t hold it against her.

“The leading theory is exhaustion- it would explain the abrupt collapse and lack of symptoms, and the heightened reaction to her mistake.  There’s no reason she should have been as concerned about it as she was.”  Wrench was putting it lightly- Slick had been in tears, something that Joule had hated to see, especially over something that was so minor.  But, given Wrench’s explanation, exhaustion would fit the bill- and rest would fix it.  Joule would make sure of it: Slick would never be as well-rested as she would in Joule’s care.  All Slick had to do now was actually wake up so they could tell her.

“I’ll let Electra know,” Volta said, running a hand over his face, “Someone has to tell them we broke their finance truck.”  But Slick wasn’t broken, just needed rest, she was going to be okay-

“Thank you for falling on that sword for us,” Wrench said drily, and he rolled his eyes as he began to skate away.

“The things I do for you people,” he muttered, loud enough to echo down the hall, and Joule let out a humorless laugh.  What he had said was not particularly funny, but she was stressed and frantic, and she was discovering that some things were beyond her control in a way that she could not make peace with.

“Joule, take a moment,” Wrench instructed, reaching over to her and rubbing down her arms.  It served its purpose; she was able to focus back on the repair truck who was looking at her intently, “I can only focus on one emergency at a time.”

“ Wrench ,” She said, almost pleading, and the repair truck turned to her, “what can I do?”  Joule didn’t know if she could take another rejection from her.  Slick was on the other side of that door, stable but still unconscious- there had to be something she could do.

“Come on in,” said Wrench tiredly, “let’s discuss where we go from here.”  She opened the door to the repair shop and entered, holding it open for the dynamite truck.  Joule swallowed and started forward, the door closing shut with a definite click behind her.

Chapter Text

She was dreaming.  She must be, for she was back in Troubadour, standing outside her shed, something that she distantly registered as off, somehow.  Everything was much bigger than she remembered- or maybe she was smaller than she had been.  Either way, the windows of the shed glowed in warm light, beckoning and inviting.  Carefully, she skated towards the door to the shed, clambering up the steps that were far steeper than they should have been.

She stood before the door, staring up at it.  She could hear faint voices beyond it: Porter and Lumber’s squabbling, Hydra’s laughter, and Momma’s singing, too faint to make out any of the words.  She stood, contemplating- she wanted to see them- she missed them- but she was scared they would not want to see her.  Finally though, she gathered her courage, and opened the door.

Correction: she tried to open the door.  It wouldn’t budge- either locked or simply too heavy for her to move.  She tried again, jiggling the door handle.  She banged on the door, hoping someone would hear it and come to her aid, but the sounds from within had not changed- the light-hearted chatter and soft singing floating from beyond the door.

No one could hear her, she realized.  Within that shed, she wasn’t missed- wherever she was, they did not think it should be in there.  Her brothers, her momma- they were happy in that shed, on the other side of the door.  Away from her.  She backed away from the door, now seemingly grown to scrape the sky, tripping down the giant steps as she did.  She had to leave.  She had to go-

The door creaked open behind her, light spilling into the dark yard.  Someone had opened the door, but as she turned to look-

Awareness came back to Slick abruptly, but muted somehow, almost as if she wasn’t really waking up at all.  She was lying on something hard- metal, she thought, and she could hear the beeping of machines- she was in Wrench’s repair shop, where she had woken up those weeks ago.  The thought should have been more concerning than it was, but she was still so tired - her mind was fuzzy and her limbs heavy- so she simply remained as she was, for all intents and purposes dead to the world.

There were voices around her- some calm, some frantic, all tense.  The others.

“For the last time, I didn’t do this.”  Wrench- calm but with an edge to it.  The repair truck was losing her patience.

“What else could? Your repairs- you said at the start there was a risk-“. That was Joule, frantic and coming from close by.  Slick felt her hand move under another’s power- Joule was by her, holding her hand.  She was reminded of the last time she had woken up here, and how Joule had played with her fingers then.  Now, the dynamite truck was holding her hand in a much tighter grasp.

“Nothing I did explains this! Mechanically she is  fine - the integration took-“ Integration?

“Can her computer tell us anything, Wrench?”  Killerwatt, calm and seemingly the most levelheaded at the moment, but- computer?  Slick didn’t have one of those- she was an analog truck.

“It’s regular diagnostic information, nothing special.  It doesn’t say anything here.”  Slick heard a sigh, and then Wrench continued, “The fact of the matter is that whatever it is, this wasn’t a mechanical issue.  We won’t know what caused her to pass out until she wakes up.”  Silence.  Then, Killerwatt spoke up.

“I’ll go check on Volta, see if he and Electra have worked anything out about this latest development.”  Slick didn’t like the sound of that, but couldn’t muster the energy to move.  There was the sound of skates, and then a door closing.  Silence again.

“As best as I can figure, she’s exhausted and needs rest.  She’s not hurt.”  The sound of skates, drawing closer. “She’s alright, Joule.”  Joule's hand tightened around her own, but Slick didn’t hear a response.  She did, however, hear a sharp inhale.

“She’s free to leave as soon as she wakes up,” Wrench said quietly, “she just needs time.”

“Can I take her now?”  Joule asked abruptly, “I’ll keep an eye on her but if there’s nothing to do but wait…” She trailed off, and Slick assumed Wrench was considering her request.

“Joule-“

“Please, Wrench- she’ll sleep better in a bed than here,” Joule was begging, and Slick found herself touched by the request.  It was probably true, too, but frankly Slick was at the point where she didn’t really care- she just wanted to go back to sleep.  It was nice of Joule to care though.  She did that.  Even when Slick was certain she was messing with her, Joule was kind.  It was nice to see that was still true, even when Joule didn’t realize she was awake to hear it.

“Fine,” sighed the repair truck, “but I need you to be vigilant.  If anything seems strange- anything at all- get me immediately.”

Hands methodically removed the sticky pads of sensors that had been placed on her- on her forehead, and neck, and wrists, and waist.  Her plating must have been removed, she realized, and her underlayer had been hiked up to expose her ribs: as she came to this conclusion, she felt a tugging at her sides, and the sound of some metal tool squeaking: fasteners, being loosened.  It didn’t hurt, which surprised her- this would have been the perfect time to do something to make her regret everything- but no.  They trusted her- had for some time.  She had been wrong about what to expect from them- maybe. 

“Her pump is fine, which was the main concern.  And the failure has auto-corrected, which is good.  I want to make sure that nothing trips it again.”

“ Thank you , Wrench," Joule sounded relieved, though Slick didn’t hear a response from the repair truck.  Only shuffling, and the clank of metal plating.  Then she was lifted gently, very gently, and held to Joule’s chest.  

“Tell me the second something changes, Joule.”  She felt Joule shift slightly, and assumed she had nodded.  Then, she felt Joule start to move, and a door slide open and shut.  They were off.

The even rhythm of Joule’s skating was soothing, lulling her further into a doze as they travelled.  She could hear the sound of the dynamite truck’s skates on the floor, echoing off of the walls of the hallway, and becoming more resonant as they entered what had to be the central hub.

As they moved, Slick shifted to become more comfortable, laying her head on Joule’s shoulder with a content sigh.  Oddly though, as she did, they stopped moving entirely.  They stopped moving, and Slick gave a wordless grumble at the abrupt pause.  Joule's arms tightened minutely, and she resumed skating, headed towards… wherever they were headed.  

Slick wasn’t worried: she had been safe with Joule before.  She was just sleepy now- the constant concern and terror and worry had been exhausting, and the rolling now was soothing.  As they moved, Slick felt herself be shifted at one point so her head was no longer in danger of falling off Joule’s shoulder, but Joule’s grip never faltered.

Finally, she heard the tell-tale sound of a door unlocking, and the slight change in the reverb of the sound of skates as they entered the room.  She was laid on a bed, and heard Joule moving around the room, the clunk of plating.  She felt a soft press of lips against her forehead: a kiss, soft and lingering.  It was nice, and as Joule pulled away Slick missed her warmth.  She did not have to wait for long however: soon after, the bed dipped, and a warm body curled into her side.

“I know you’re awake.”  Joule said softly.  Slick opened her eyes blearily to find Joule looking up at her from where she was curled up.  They were in Slick’s room, she realized, glancing around at the blank white walls as Joule lifted herself onto her forearms to stare down at her.  A hand on her chin brought her attention back to the dynamite truck.

“You scared me,” said Joule quietly, swallowing hard, and Slick saw the glitter of quicksilver tears in her eyes, “don’t do that again.”  Slick just blinked drowsily up at her.  Joule was much prettier when she was happy, she thought, and hated the fact that she had been the one to make Joule cry.

“Joule,” she breathed, a hand made clumsy by sleep reaching out to grasp at the dynamite truck’ arms.

“We thought your repairs…” Joule trailed off, hesitating, then shook her head.  “But they were fine.  Wrench is really good.”  Slick nodded.  Joule seemed to realized Slick was reaching for her, and carefully leaned forward, closer to Slick.  She shakily grasped Slick’s hand, closing her eyes.

“But you’re alright,” she continued, “I’m going to be very mad at you for scaring us once you’re better, but you’re okay.  You’re safe.”  Safe.  That was the first time anyone had told her that here, Slick realized.  Maybe it was true.  Maybe not.  She wasn’t sure anymore.  She was tired.  She just wanted to go to sleep.  

Joule leaned in and kissed Slick’s cheek, low on her jaw.  Slick found herself wondering if Joule’s lipstick had left a mark, and found that she wouldn’t mind it if it did.  

“Get some rest,” Joule said softly as she pulled away, “can’t have you passing out on me again.”  A weak joke, and one that didn’t land for either of them as Joule swallowed.

“Alright,” Slick said softly, barely a noise even to her own ears, and Joule smiled, relieved, and nodded.

“Close your eyes,” the dynamite truck said, “things will be better in the morning.”  Slick didn’t know who she said it to reassure- herself or Slick.  She closed her eyes again, and felt Joule shift, lying down next to her again- only this time, with her head on Slick’s chest, right over where her pump lay.  

It was a grounding pressure, not an uncomfortable one, and with great effort she brought her hand up to rest on Joule’s back.  She felt one of Joule’s hands fist in her shirt and rest there, the dynamite truck breathing softly.  It was nice- Slick had been tired for so long, scared and anxious and on edge- it was nice to simply lie down, comfortable and drowsy and with someone who she, despite everything, liked- and might care about her too.

Joule was right though.  She needed to sleep- after everything she wasn’t going to be able to stave it off for very long.  So she didn’t, and hoped this time she would get to find out who had opened the door, and whether or not she could go inside.

As she drifted off, she thought she heard Joule speak, softly, almost sadly.

“I really do like you, you know.”  But Slick was asleep before she could respond. 

There were no more dreams that night.

Chapter Text

Everything was different now.  Well, everything for her- for the electrics it was probably business as usual.  Slick wasn’t sure.

She had woken up that morning- or really, apparently that afternoon, based on the sunlight streaming in- with Joule still curled around her.  The dynamite truck had looked up at her with big, dark eyes, then curled up even tighter.

“Electra wants to meet with all of us as soon as you’re up.”  She said softly.

“Am I in trouble?”  Slick croaked.  It was best to ask, to get that out of the way.  Joule shook her head.

“No, no- we just need to discuss what happened.  And what to do now.”

“Oh.”  Slick blinked, blearily looking around her room again.  She saw two piles of plating on the ground: one neatly piled at the door, and another haphazardly near the wardrobe.

“How did you sleep?” Joule asked, and Slick looked back at her, taking a moment

“I dreamed about my old yard.”  Joule was quiet at that, contemplating.  Finally, she spoke again.

“A good dream or a bad one?”  Great question.  Slick thought about the dream- being locked on the other side of a door from the rest of her family, but the door opening, and waking up before she saw who had opened it.  

“…I don’t know.”  Joule nodded at that, then pushed up off of the bed so she was leaning over Slick, nose to nose.  Slick, still fairly sleepy and definitely still tired, only stared.

“Well, dreams are good.  Wrench always says that dreaming is a sign of REM, which is good.”

“REM?”

“Regenerative Electro-Magnetism.  Your systems need it to recover.”  Right.  Slick hadn’t ever heard of it before, but she was going to have to trust Joule and Wrench with this one.

“Okay.”

“How are you feeling, otherwise?”  One of Joule’s hands reached up to brush at her hair as she asked, and Slick’s eyes followed the movement, going cross-eyed as she did.  Joule laughed lightly.

“Better.  Still tired.”  It was true- Slick felt better than she had in weeks- probably due to the fact that she had slept well for the first time in weeks.  Funny how that worked.

“Wrench said you’d probably be like that.  She said that you’d worked yourself to exhaustion and that you’d probably be a little unsteady and need more rest for a few days.”

Joule dropped from her position above Slick, collapsing on top of the tanker and burying her face in Slick’s neck.  Her arms wrapped around Slick, and Slick’s automatically came up to rest on Joule’s lower back.  Neither of them were in pajamas, but their underlayers- after everything it seemed Joule hadn’t bothered to change, instead just fallen asleep with Slick.  The dynamite truck’s underlayer had ridden up slightly, and Slick could feel the line of warm skin under her palms.  She tried to hold back a shiver, but wasn’t entirely sure she was successful as Joule’s arms tightened.

“We are going to go to this meeting and then you are going to get more sleep,” Joule murmured, breath ticking Slick’s ear and sending goosebumps over her, “I will tie you to the bed if I have to.”

“Or get Wrench to turn off my legs again,” Slick snarked.  She probably wouldn’t let that one go ever.  She felt a smile against her neck.

“Ooooo, not a bad idea,” Joule rolled off of her then, and Slick tried not to miss her warmth or weight.  Joule skated over to the haphazard pile of plating on the ground, beginning to snap pieces on.

“Joule, that was a joke,” said Slick, sitting up slowly- very slowly, she was dizzy all of a sudden- and looking at the dynamite truck who had her back to her and was humming.  “Joule?  You know that was a joke right?”  Joule caught her eye in the mirror and smiled mischievously.

“You should get dressed,” was what she said instead, and Slick rolled her eyes but carefully clambered out of bed all the same.  Her plating was the neatly folded pile by the door- someone must have brought it by from wherever it had been taken off- Wrench’s workshop, presumably.  She clipped it on as quickly as she could with clumsy fingers, struggling to match the fasteners to each other.  She had particular trouble with a shoulder piece, until deft fingers swooped in and clipped it into place.  She looked up to see Joule, already watching her.

“Come on,” said the dynamite truck, taking her hand and pulling her towards the door.  As the door slid open, Slick realized she had not heard the sound of the door unlocking.  It had already been unlocked, she realized and she wondered how long she had been free to leave her room without her notice.

The two components headed down the hall, towards the central hub.  Before they entered the hub, Joule stopped, and turned to Slick, grasping her arms.

“Now remember,” she said, gripping Slick’s forearms slightly tighter for emphasis, “No one is mad at you, probably, and things could definitely be worse, but they aren’t great.  Working yourself until you collapsed was stupid and we’re going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”  She finished this off with a smile and a squeeze of Slick’s forearms, and Slick just stared at her.  Joule was two for two.

“You are really bad at pep talks.”  Slick said flatly, and Joule made a face, offended.

“I am not!”  She drew back, arms crossed, before a curious expression crossed her face.  “So what would you say?”  Slick paused, considering.

“I would say…”. She reached out, and carefully cupped Joule’s face between her palms.  Joule looked mildly surprised, but did not stop her.

“I know you were scared.  And I know you didn’t understand what was happening.  But the important thing is that you are safe, and you’re going to be okay.  We’re going to figure this out.”  

She and Joule stayed like that, staring at each other for a long while, Slick still carefully cupping Joule’s face and Joule... staring with the dark oil slick eyes she always seemed to get around Slick.  Slick no longer knew who she had been talking about- herself, trying to give an example of a pep talk to Joule?  Or Joule, who had been so scared for her last night, pleading with Wrench?  Finally, Joule broke the silence.

“You’re really good at pep talks.”  She said breathlessly, and Slick ducked her head, flushing.

“Come on.”  The door opened, and they headed into the hub.

The others were already there, seated on the couches, seemingly deep in discussion.  At the sound of their skates approaching, however, all conversation stopped, and four faces turned to look at them.  Volta was the only one who looked happy at their approach, but he did , shooting a relieved smile her way.  The others- Wrench, Electra, and Killerwatt, simply watched with expressions of ranged neutrality.  Slick tried not to read into that.

“Slick, Joule,” Electra greeted, “welcome.  Take a seat.”  Joule skated over first, Slick following cautiously behind.  Joule sat next to Wrench on a couch, leaving Slick to sit on one of the armchairs.  Volta was seated on the couch next to Electra, while Killerwatt stood on their other side next to the couch.

“You gave my other components quite a scare last night,” the electric engine said, “how are you feeling?”  Slick blinked.  This was not the line of questioning she had expected from the engine who tried to ignore her existence as much as possible. 

“Uh, fine?”  They nodded consideringly at that.

“Killerwatt tells me you were considerably distressed even before your collapse.”  Slick looked at Killerwatt, who was staring at her.  He nodded at her as she met his eyes.  It was hard to tell what he was thinking, and she was reminded of his gaze at the racing arena, the unreadable eyes that saw more than she wanted him to.  Slowly, nervously, she nodded.

“I was.”

“Why?”  They were staring, intently and curiously at her.  She had forgotten how unsettling the full force of their concentration was.  At least this time, they did not seem angry with her, which was a relief.  

“Uh…”

She glanced at the others.  Wrench  was leaning back on the couch, watching her, while Joule sat next to her, drumming her fingers on her knee.  Volta’s eyes were on her, his head tilted slightly where he sat, while Killerwatt, still standing, was staring at her with another of his odd expressions.

“I had messed up some numbers on a report I was going to send to you,” she started, “it was a stupid mistake.”  They nodded, expression not giving anything away.  Slick tensed, ever so slightly, but they said nothing, did nothing.  It was still off-putting: any other engine she had known would have sent her sprawling for her fuck-up.  They should too.

“It was an accident,” she said uselessly.  She just wanted to make sure they knew that- who knew if the others had told them that.  She hadn’t meant to screw things up.  They nodded, and looked away, towards Wrench.

“At Wrench’s recommendation, you have been placed on medical leave,” they said, gesturing to the repair truck in question, who nodded at her, “she will reassess you in a few days and reevaluate then.”  Slick nodded; it seemed reasonable.  But- why weren’t they mad?

“I do have concerns about the events leading to your collapse, and would ask that you refrain from overworking yourself again.  A burnt-out tanker is of no use to me.”  Oh.  Maybe that was it- they just wanted to make sure she continued to do her job.  That made sense, she supposed, but it was still strange that she wasn’t facing some punishment for her fuck-up.

“Uh-“ She had been about to ask, about why they weren’t angry, and why her safety suddenly mattered, when she was cut off by their resident dynamite truck.

“She should stay with me,” Joule announced, and all eyes turned to her, Slick’s surprised ones included.

“Her room is so boring - and ya know, blank walls aren’t conducive to recovery”. Joule was nodding vigorously along to her own reasoning, “Plus, in case anything happens- it’s good to have someone watch out for her if anything goes wrong.”  No one said anything- Killerwatt was watching her with a raised eyebrows and Volta was poking his tongue in his cheek with a hand over his mouth.  Wrench was staring with a twisted mouth and Electra’s face was unreadable- perhaps faintly amused.  Joule continued.

“And besides- she should have someone with her while she’s recovering.  A friend, or something.”  Joule finished, looking very pleased with herself for her argument.

Slick saw Killerwatt duck his head sharply, and Wrench glance at him out of the corner of her eye, a smile playing on her lips.

“You’ll notice nobody was arguing with you,” said Volta snidely, and Joule stuck out her tongue at him.  Electra watched this exchange, eyes cutting from Joule to Volta, and then Slick.

“Slick?”  She jolted slightly, not really expecting to be addressed.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think?”

“About- about staying with Joule?”

“Yes.”  They were staring at her intently, but their face was…open, in a sense.  Curious.  They actually wanted to hear her opinion.

“Yeah… that sounds good.”  Joule beamed.

“Perfect!  I’ll help Slick move in after this.”  Slick wanted to say that it wasn’t necessary- she didn’t really have things to move in, per say- but Electra was nodding approvingly.

“Wonderful.  I’ll leave that to you then.  Now, if you’ll excuse me,” they stood suddenly, “I have some matters to attend to.”  They nodded at them all and skated off, down one of the other hallways Slick had not explored yet.  It left the five of them in the little seating area in the hub, staring after the engine, before Killerwatt skated up to Slick, peering down at her where she sat.

“I want to talk to you.”  He said bluntly, then turned and skated away.  Neither Wrench, Joule, or Volta stopped him or asked about it, the trio engrossed in some argument involving updated work schedules.   Slick stood and followed him, ending up at the corner of the room with the giant map, glowing with pinpricks of light.  He turned to her again, with a frown on his face, peering at her closely.

“How are you doing?”  He asked, and Slick tried not to let her surprise show.  Out of all of them, Killerwatt still probably liked her the least.  And was clearly the most likely to tattle to Electra with whatever she told him.  Not a good combination.

“I’m fine,” she responded unsurely, immediately on guard.  So they might trust her a bit, big whoop.  She still didn’t really know what they wanted.

“I’m glad.”  He was quiet for a moment, clasping his hands behind his back, elbows gripping forearms.  Slick watched him as he shifted slightly.  Finally, he looked at her again with that same strange unreadable expression.

“I have concerns about your reaction to your clerical error yesterday.”  Outwardly Slick nodded.  Inwardly she sighed.  Of course he did.

“I was tired.”  

“I agree.  I think there’s more to that.”

“Like what?”  She challenged.  Maybe she was a crier- he didn’t know.  He raised an eyebrow, and continued.

“You were in tears over a simple numerical mistake- it’s clear you pride yourself on your work, but I’m sure you can agree that was excessive.”  She said nothing, and he spoke again.

“And you panicked when I touched your arm and said it was time to leave.”  Slick had forgotten about that, but he was right.  She had been terrified he was about to take her somewhere worse, that her mistake had been the final straw he was waiting for.  It wasn’t a good sign he was asking about it.

“And after that run in with Green Arrow at the races-“

“Your point?” She gritted out, cutting him off.  She did not want to be reminded of the engine and his threats.

“This isn’t a fight, Slick.”

“I’m not trying to fight, Killerwatt.”  Slick crossed her arms and looked away, shifting on her skates.  Without looking, she knew his eyes tracked her movements.  Stupid security truck.

“You’d probably win anyways.” She muttered, still not looking at him.

“That’s not what I-“

“Killerwatt, save the interrogation for while she’s on the clock,” called Joule, skating over and grabbing Slick’s arm, “she’s on vacation.”

“Medical leave from collapsing is not vacation, Joule,” sighed Killerwatt.  Joule shrugged.

“Eh, semantics.”  He fixed her with a flat look, and she grinned.

“Anyways, someone is going back to bed,” Joule announced as she began to pull Slick away, down the hallway that led towards the dynamite truck’s room “and my threat of tying you to the bed still stands, so you’re going to get as much rest as possible.”  

Slick wanted to argue, but in truth she realized she was fairly tired.  Apparently collapsing after being on edge for weeks (though the others thought it was solely due to overworking) took a lot out of you, even after so much sleep.

“Don’t want that,” she said instead, sarcastically, “or Wrench turning my legs off.”  Joule grinned at her, but before she could say anything, Wrench spoke up.

“I mean, if you’re asking,” said the repair truck with a perfectly straight face, and Volta rolled his eyes.

“Wrench, I don’t care how effective it is, none of us like it when you do that,” Volta complained, swatting at her.  Wrench smirked, ever so slightly, and Slick realized she had been making a joke.

“Don’t do stupid stuff that makes it an option then.”  He scoffed, but Joule was tugging Slick out of the hub now and the conversation could not continue.

“Everybody say ‘bye Slick!’” She called over her shoulder, and Slick heard a ‘sweet dreams’ and ‘don’t let the bedbugs bite’ right before the door slid shut.  She suddenly felt rather dizzy again, and slumped forward.  Fortunately, Joule seemed to anticipate this, and she found herself lifted gently into Joule’s arms.

“Yeah, I’m gonna let you sleep,” said Joule as she started skating again, “we can figure out what to do on your vacation later.”

“Not a vacation,” Slick muttered, leaning her head back to watch the lights as they passed.

“Not with that attitude it’s not.”  Sleepily, Slick looked up at Joule, who was shining against the overhead lights.  Suddenly, a question occurred to her.

“Has Wrench ever turned your legs off?”  She asked curiously, and Joule made a face.

“You’re delirious, Slick.  Go to sleep.”  That wasn’t a no.

“Wait, she has?”

“Sleeeeeep.”  Joule was definitely glowing that light luminous blue of an electric’s blush, and Slick grinned.

“Fine.”  She closed her eyes, but made a mental note to ask Wrench about it later.

Unlike the last time she was in Joule’s arms, she was not awake to see their arrival at Joule’s room.  She was, however, woken long enough to change into a borrowed pair of pajamas and curl up under an incredibly soft blanket, surrounded by four soft stuffed sheep.  She was roused only once more, later, at the feeling of the bed shifting within the dark room as another person climbed into the bed.  Sleepily, Slick wrapped her arms around the person in question (Joule, of course it was Joule), and was out like a light once more.

Chapter Text

Slick woke up the next morning in Joule’s room, arms still wrapped around the dynamite truck.  She lay there for a while, still tired- Joule’s bed was comfortable, and it was quiet- and she had nowhere else to be.  Slowly, she sat up.  She felt a little dizzy as she did, but remained still until the dizziness faded.

Beside her, Joule muttered something unintelligible, and was making searching motions with her arms, beginning to wake up, so Slick snagged one of the many sheep (the very floppy one, she had classified it as) and placed it into her arms.  Joule settled at that, and seemed to fall back into her previous deep sleep.  Slick smiled, despite herself, and sat on the edge of the bed, taking in the room.

It was relatively unchanged since the last time she had seen it- the garlands still covered the ceiling, and the rag run still lay upon the floor- an explosion of color, wherever you looked.  The entire place screamed Joule , and despite knowing Joule’s reasoning yesterday was nothing more than weak excuses, Slick was inclined to believe that her recovery would in fact be better here.

She carefully got up from the bed, careful not to wake her bedmate- as it was, Joule simply turned her face into her pillow and did nothing else.  Slick would leave her to sleep- she couldn’t imagine Joule had slept too well the last couple nights if she was monitoring Slick. She looked around, and her eyes caught on the vanity, and the figure in the faded silver makeup that stood in the reflection of the mirror.

She sat down at the vanity, and as she did her eyes caught on the photos that bordered it, and realized with a start there was a new addition.  It had to have been taken from security footage, but it was a shot of the five of them: Wrench and Joule laughing on the couch, while Killerwatt has his arms around Slick, who in turn was laughing and tickling Volta with one hand, the other firmly fisted in his hair as he reached up to swat at her.  A little ways away, unnoticed by the five of them, stood Electra with their head cocked, holding the ledger Slick had made her notes in.  Surprisingly, although she had not paid too much attention to their expression that day beyond whether or not they were angry with her, they seemed to have a small smile on their face.

She looked happy there, she realized with a start- she had been happy.  It had been the first time she had laughed since all this started.  

Maybe that was why it was here.  Or maybe Joule just wanted more photos and this was an option she liked.  It was hard to tell.

Her eyes traveled lower, down to the makeup stores on the vanity.  This was unchanged too- the silver and black and brown (two sets now- presumably the makeup from her room) present, but also the red and orange and yellow she had seen previously.

As she sat there, she had an idea.  Trains had synthetic skin- there was no danger of cross contamination between makeup users.  Surely Joule wouldn’t mind if she borrowed a little?  She looked back towards the bed.  Joule was still peacefully asleep, cuddled up amongst her sheep, the floppy one in her arms.  Slick decided not to wake her.  It was probably fine.

The motions came back to her easily- the yellow at her temples and forehead, coupled with the orange, the yellow and orange and black around her eyes and brown on her cheekbones- all familiar old friends.  Then, the lips, lined as always with lipstick to match.  The colors weren’t quite right, but they were closer than she had been in weeks.

She looked at herself in the mirror, really looked instead of focusing on the details- and it was Slick the oil tanker she saw looking back at her.   It had been too long.  She smiled, feeling something odd in her chest- tight, but not in a bad way.

There was the shifting of covers behind her, and through the mirror Slick could see Joule sit up, sleepily staring in her direction, and rubbing her eyes.  It was hard to tell what exactly she was thinking, and Slick found herself frozen as Joule left the bed and skated over to her.  She wrapped her hands around Slick’s shoulders, hooking her chin over the truck’s shoulder so their faces were side to side in the mirror.  Then, Joule smiled, a soft, fond thing that made Slick’s chest feel fluttery.

“Pretty girl,” she breathed, “There you are.”  She pressed a kiss to Slick’s shoulder, eyes still meeting hers in the mirror, and Slick-

Slick, who saw herself properly again, who was safe and comfortable and trusted and had slept well for the first time in ages , who was confronted with a dynamite truck who understood - well.  What else was she supposed to do?

Joule made a surprised noise as Slick kissed her, one hand on her cheek and the other cupping her head.  She melted into it quickly however, and Slick could feel a smile against her lips.  Joule let her set the pace, not demanding more than Slick gave or taking more than Slick offered, simply following her lead.  Finally, they broke apart, breathing hard.

“What was that for?”  Joule asked, eyes sparkling and expression open.  Slick ducked her head slightly with a small smile.

“You told me to be honest with you,” she said, and watched as Joule broke into a big smile.

“That was me being honest.”  Joule smiled even wider, and leaned forward.  As they kissed Slick thought she saw a glow out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she pulled back to rest her forehead against Joule’s it was gone: a trick of the light.

“A deal’s a deal,” Joule murmured.

“Sealed with a kiss,” replied the oil tanker.

“Sealed with a kiss,” Joule repeated.  Then she smiled mischievously as she pulled back.  “It was pretty romantic, huh?”  Slick snorted.

“Nothing screams romance like kidnapping and hair bleach.”  Joule conceded the point with a shrug.

“I got you in bed though, didn’t I?”  Joule’s fingers reached up to toy with the collar of Slick’s pajamas, tracing the silver piping down towards her chest.  Slick grasped Joule's hand with both of hers before it traveled too low, causing the dynamite truck to laugh.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.  Good.”  Truthfully, the best she had felt in ages , the dizziness aside.  Joule smiled at that, squeezing Slick’s clasped hands with her own.

“Any dreams?”  Joule asked, and Slick paused.  There had been no dreams- no reoccurrence of the door that was opened by a faceless someone, but also no others: no pleasant dreams nor true nightmares.

“Nope.”

“Okay.  That’s probably fine, you can talk to Wrench about it later.”  Joule didn’t seem concerned, so Slick decided she wouldn’t either.  She felt fine, anyways- and she did not want dreams if they would simply remind her of how Momma didn’t want her at home.  She’d talk to Wrench.

Before she could say anything to Joule in response, the door to the room swung open, revealing Volta on the other side.  Joule and Slick sprang apart, the former skating back over to her bed while Slick remained at the vanity and twisted to look at the freezer truck, who skated in with his hands over his eyes.

“I hope you both are decent, because I’m coming in now.”

“Actually, we’re trying to have sex, could you come back later?”  Slick asked flatly, and he uncovered his eyes to make a face at her.

“Good to know your standards are no higher than Joule’s,” he said sarcastically, and Slick scoffed as Joule gave an indignant squawk.

“Intruder! What do you want?”

“Just wanted to let you know that the shipment you were waiting for arrived.  The fireworks and the… pinecones?”

“Oh good!”  Cheered Joule, bouncing on the bed.  To Slick she said, “I’ve been experimenting with soaking pinecones with different chemicals to make a fire different colors when they burn.”  She frowned suddenly, contemplating.  “The pinecones have a bad habit of exploding, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Right.”  Volta said slowly,  “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know they’re being delivered to your workshop- and before you ask, the fireworks have been secured properly this time.”

“Good.  It’s a concern, ya know.”

“I know.”

“Because last time there was an explosion that wasn’t my fault but Wrench still lectured me when she fixed me up.”

“I remember,” said Volta, looking like he really wished he’d forget, “this is why I’m a textile engineer, for the record.”

“Yeah yeah, you do good work, this is about me,” said Joule, waving him off, “if your materials were likely to combust with mismanagement you’d complain too.”  

Volta rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree.  He looked at Slick again, seemingly really taking her in for the first time, and frowned.  Slick knew he had finally registered her makeup.

“That doesn’t fit the uniform,” was what he said, and she frowned, fingers reaching up to touch her face self consciously.

“I know.”

“She’s on vacation, Volta, chill.”  Joule to the rescue, slinging an arm around Slick’s shoulders, “she doesn’t have to follow it if she’s not working.”  He stared at her a moment more, then nodded.

“It looks nice,” was what he said in response, and Slick found herself too surprised to answer.  She hadn’t expected a compliment.

“Like a sunset,” said Joule softly, nodding, which stopped Slick short.  A sunset . No one had ever said that to her before.  

“Well, that’s all I had,” said Volta, “have a good morning and use protection.”  Slick rolled her eyes at his comment, as the freezer truck turned on his heel towards the door.

“Wait!” Joule scooped up the sheep she had been cuddling earlier and held it out towards Volta, who had turned back at her exclamation.

“Volta, say hello to Ms. Frosty.  She’s missed you.”  Volta looked down at the sheep, then back up at Joule.  Slick got the impression this was not the first time this had happened.

“I am not saying hello to Ms. Frosty.”  Joule set the sheep- Ms. Frosty- back down on the bed, and they all watched as she immediately collapsed.

“You made her sad!” Joule wailed, and Volta sighed, turning to Slick.

“She named this one after me because she never stays upright and Joule hates me ,” this last comment was pointed at a pouting Joule, who had gathered up the stuffed animal in her arms and was speaking to it dramatically.

“It’s okay Ms. Frosty, I’ll protect you from the big bad Volta.  He doesn’t understand how special you are.”

“You like her more than you like me,” Volta complained, making a face.

“ Yes ,” Joule said earnestly, looking up from the sheep she cradled, and he placed a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“Are all the sheep named after you guys?”  Slick asked.  There were four of them- it might make sense.

“Yes!” Joule said excitedly, “I need to introduce you!”

“And that’s my cue,” said Volta, skating backwards towards the door and turning once he reached the threshold.  Over his shoulder he said, “Slick, I’d say it was nice knowing you, but that’s debatable.”  Slick flipped him off behind his back as the door slid shut behind him.  As soon as it had shut completely, she turned to Joule, sighed, and opened the can of worms.

“So, what’s the deal with the sheep?”  She asked, and Joule grinned.

“Allow me to introduce you to my babies.” Joule crossed to the bed, and arranged the stuffed sheep in a line before stepping back and turning to Slick.

“So you’ve met Ms. Frosty- this is Ms. Buckle.”  Joule gestured to another sheep- the only one who seemed to be able to stand upright properly under its own power.  “She’s named after Killerwatt.  He thinks it’s because she stands at attention- but it's really because she also has big eyes.  Next, Mr. Clutch- that’s the loaf one: Wrench thought he was funny when I showed him to her, so that’s the one named after her.  Next is Mr. Detonation- that’s me!  He’s very cuddly.  

“Now,” Joule said very seriously, “each of them has a very important life story that brought them to this moment, so pay attention- there will be a quiz.”  Joule looked entirely too serious for Slick to be sure she was joking, so the oil tanker nodded, and Joule began.

By the end of it, Slick understood why Volta had made his abrupt exit.  Unfortunately, there actually was a quiz.

Chapter Text

There was a fine line between medic and mad scientist, and as a repair truck Wrench toed the line with the grace of a prima ballerina.  Or, less charitably (and Slick was nothing if not uncharitable towards the woman who had turned her fucking legs off ), Wrench used that line as a personal jump rope and the rest of them just tried not to get in the way.

Then again, Slick rarely spent time around repair trucks, so maybe this was normal- it’s not like she would know.  Repairs could be expensive- when they were little Momma would generally take care of any injuries they had- fortunately she, Lumber, and Porter had never been hurt beyond the steam train’s capabilities- a cracked fitting or bent pipe being the worst of it.

Years ago, when she and her brothers had been little (before Hydra had come into their lives, before Rusty became Momma’s little champion and she suddenly didn’t have time for them anymore), Momma was the best person ever to handle repairs.  She always knew just what to say to comfort a crying trainlet, and how to seem so reassuring and confident when it was the thing that was needed most.

She remembered the day that things had changed- Momma had come home late one evening looking more tired than normal, and looking like she had been crying.

“There was an accident on the tracks,” she had said in explanation, “Rusty was involved in a collision during one of our supply runs.  He’s with the repair trucks now.”  She had tried to keep an even reassuring tone, but hadn’t quite managed it.

“But he’ll be alright,” said Lumber, “won’t he?  We get hurt all the time, and we’re fine.”  Slick had nodded; Lumber’s logic seemed sound.  There was no true reason to be so worried.

“His recovery is different than yours would be,” Momma had said, “it’s hard to explain if you aren’t a steam train.  I don’t know if you’d understand.”  Lumber and Porter had taken this explanation with a nod, but that had stopped Slick short.  What did that mean?  They were all fuel trucks, not engines, sure, but how different could it really be?

A repair truck had come by the house later to talk to Momma, speaking in hushed tones in the living room as the three of them had listened from behind the door.

“It was my fault,” Momma had said heavily to the truck after he had outlined Rusty’s treatment plan- large amounts of mechanical jargon that Slick had no hope of understanding, “I didn’t realize he didn’t know the shorthand until he failed to make that track switch.”

“He got lucky, that’s for certain,” replied the repair truck, “but he should make a full recovery.  Now…”

They had continued to speak after that, but Slick had stopped listening after that.  She had never heard Momma sound so distressed, ever- and over some random engine, not- not one of them.  It had been scary, to hear her normally unshakeable mother so upset, and equally distressing was the morbid creeping curiosity that asked but what if it was one of us?  Would you still be as upset?

Whatever.  Rusty would get better and then this would all be some weird story to tell next time someone got majorly hurt.  Except… after he had, Momma had still spent a ton of time with him- coaching or something, since he was the only other steam train.  And suddenly it was “Rusty beat his best time today” and “Rusty learned how to brake with his heaviest load” and all this stuff that Momma had never cared to talk to them about or coach them on.  Maybe it was different for steam trains, it’s not like Slick would know- or, sorry, understand .  Regardless, it never stopped Slick from wondering if Momma secretly had wanted a steam engine of her own, and had settled for fuel trucks.

Stars, she missed Momma, even if Momma might not miss her.  She wanted a hug from her right now, and some reassuring words while getting looked at from a repair truck would be nice, because while Wrench was confident in her job and certainly capable, she either didn’t have any practice in bedside manner or was actively choosing not to use it for Slick.  It could go either way, really.

Out of all of the components, Wrench was certainly the bluntest.  Slick got the sense that the repair truck mostly didn’t mind her, per say- at least no more than she minded dealing with any of the others.  But of course, that didn’t mean that she liked her.  Wrench had asked her to come in the previous day, sending Killerwatt to find her in the library ( a far bigger library than she had expected; no wonder the components always had books on hand this was huge ) and telling her that her presence was required in the repair shop at 0800 hours the next day.

So, the next morning Slick had shown up at the repair shop (Joule had spent the morning pouting as they got ready that she had work and couldn’t go, and Slick had mollified her with kisses and the very reasonable argument that she was an adult who could do things on her own) and had been greeted by Wrench who had ushered her in with little fanfare.  ‘Greeted’ was perhaps too strong a word for what had happened: in reality the two had exchanged next to no words beyond Wrench’s instructions for Slick’s examination, and Slick hadn’t been inclined to change that.

Wrench seemed to be doing some sort of diagnostic review, and an extensive one- checking her hydraulic hookups, clipping sensors to different parts of Slick’s frame, and examining her tank connectors.  She had also wanted to see the stitches on Slick’s torso, which had auto-repaired alright- the cut had knitted back together until it was only a thin dark line of scar tissue, and the metal of the silver staples had dissolved into her frame, leaving only silver marks that ran perpendicular to the scar line.  Wrench had seemed satisfied with the repair after some prodding that had tickled more than anything else.  Finally, Wrench had given Slick the greenlight to put her plating back on, which she did quickly.  A question had been itching at her as Wrench had worked, and now that they seemed to be almost done she felt comfortable asking.

“So,” she began, bucking the plating that covered her calf, “You’ve disabled Joule’s legs before too?”  Wrench, looking at one of her computer readouts, glanced up at her with raised eyebrows.

“Did she tell you that?”  

“No.  When I asked she told me I was delirious and to go to sleep.”  Wrench nodded, face still betraying nothing.  Her resting face was one of disinterested neutrality, Slick decided- she had no idea how the repair truck felt about this conversation.

“That sounds like her.  And yes, I did.”  She said nothing else, and Slick stared at her expectantly.  There was absolutely more to that.  Wrench met her stare with pursed lips and a flat gaze.

“Her I did it to because she had exposed circuitry after a refurbishment and needed a recovery period with complete immobility or there would have been lasting damage.”  Thank you Wrench, that only raised more questions than answers.  Wrench wasn’t done, however.  “You I did it to because you were a flight risk and I hate you.”

She stared at Slick, deadpan while Slick stared back.

“I appreciate the honesty.”  Slick said sarcastically, and Wrench huffed in what could have been a laugh.

“Relax, you’ve grown on me- marginally.”  She said nothing else on the subject, and Slick rolled her eyes, hopping down from the workbench to solid ground.  As she did, her vision swam and she had to grip the edge of the bench to keep herself steady.  A hand clamped down on her arm, and she looked up through hazy vision to see Wrench staring at her, concerned.  The repair truck’s mouth was moving, but she couldn’t quite hear the sound over the ringing in her ears.  Slowly, the ringing subsided, and Wrench’s words became audible.

“-ick? Can you hear me?”  Slick nodded, and slowly sat back down on the workbench, relishing the cool metal under her palms.  It felt like her fans had kicked up a notch, trying to suck more air into her internals.  Wrench pointed something at her- a small handheld device that beeped after a few seconds.  She examined the readout on the screen, and frowned.

“You’re overheating,” she said, and crossed to a storage shelf.  She was back a moment later, cracking a plastic bag that she handed to Slick.  It was cold, and grew colder as she held it.

“Put it on your neck,” instructed Wrench, “I want to get your core temperature down before I discharge you.  Have you been dizzy often?”  Slick did as she asked, still slightly dizzy, and thought about it.

“A couple times,” was what she settled on, and it was true.  It wasn’t that often, but had been a present issue since her collapse.  Wrench accepted this answer with a frown, and turned back to her computer, presumably to make a note of some sort.  Slick waited patiently, shifting the ice pack slightly on her neck to better cool the synthetic skin there.  Finally, Wrench frowned- properly, actually frowned- and looked at Slick, and then her computer.  Then Slick again.

Wrench stared at her for a beat, then finally spoke in a tone Slick distinctly did not like.

“Your exhaustion was attributed to overworking yourself at your job, right?”  Slick nodded cautiously.  It wasn’t really, but it wasn’t like anyone else knew that.  The job was the conclusion the others had come to, and Slick wasn’t inclined to set the record straight.

“Yeah.”  Slick watched as Wrench’s brow furrowed further and the repair truck nodded.  “What?” She asked, sensing more to Wrench’s question.

“Your symptoms are consistent with prolonged exhaustion, but the time period in which the exhaustion is attributed to is too short a period for it to develop this level of severity.”  Slick just stared at her, and Wrench huffed.

“Based on what I know, you’ve had trouble sleeping since before you started managing the finances.”  Slick froze.  Shit.  She hadn’t known that would be evident from an examination.  Of course Wrench would pick that up.  That was bad.

“How long have you actually been having trouble sleeping?”  Okay, that was a stupid question, and despite now being on edge Slick couldn’t help but scoff.

“Well, it all started when you kidnapped me,” Slick said sarcastically, and Wrench scowled.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I- a strange place with people I don’t trust who hate me?  I didn’t know what would happen.”  Wrench looked unimpressed at this admission, which only served to make Slick more frustrated.  She was telling the truth, damn it.

“I think the terms were pretty clear.”

“Like that’s ever stopped anyone before,” Slick snapped without thinking, and froze as she realized what she’d said- what she’d implied.  Wrench had stilled at her admission, and very slowly turned to face her completely, a mixture of suspicion, confusion, and something that Slick almost could consider concern on her face.

“What?”  

“Nothing.”  Slick looked down, glaring at her skates.  That had been stupid .  She had let Wrench get under her skin, and now-

“No.  I want to unpack that.”

“Well I don’t.” Slick swung herself to her feet, and was relieved to find that she was not dizzy this time.  She straightened up, and looked over at Wrench, who was still staring at her.  It was time to shut this down and cut loose.

“Look,” Slick began, “you don’t like me, I don’t like you.  I’m not discussing shit with you other than the mechanical issues that for all I know, you caused.  Joule says you’re the best- I don’t see it.”  Wrench’s eyes were narrowed now, a scowl having fully eclipsed her face.  Good.  Slick had struck a nerve.

She wanted Wrench to be mad, she realized.  Mad would mean she was written off as just the tanker who had crashed Electra, who was here and pissed about it.  Mad would mean Wrench didn’t look into anything she had said further, and after Killerwatt’s probes, she didn’t want another component getting suspicious of her.  She didn’t want them to know anything.

Slick skated slightly backwards, away from the workbench and Wrench and towards the door.

“If that’s all, am I free to go?”  She spat.  Wrench still hadn’t moved, the repair truck only tracking her movements, but Slick was sick of it.  She wanted to be out of this shop and far away from the repair truck who did not like her and knew too much.  Wrench watched her for a moment more, and then spoke.

“Are you still having trouble sleeping?”  she asked, still staring at her with a hard, angry look, and Slick stopped short in surprise at the difference in the repair truck’s look and words.

“What?”

“Are you still having trouble sleeping?”  Wrench repeated evenly, and said nothing more, waiting for a response.  Slick glared at her.

“...no,” she gritted out.  Ever since she had collapsed, she had actually been sleeping well (and she was not unpacking why that was right now- not in front of Wrench and her laser focus)- well enough that she was beginning to feel normal again.

“Wrench nodded, considering, and Slick waited, tense as a pipe under pressure for her verdict.  Really, regardless of Wrench’s response she was out of here.  She was not dealing with any of this a second longer than she had to, and it had already been way too-

“You’ll return to work next week.  Let me know if the dizziness gets worse.”  With that, Wrench turned back to her workstation entirely, cleaning up her instruments and effectively ignoring Slick completely.  Slick was okay with that- if Wrench never spoke to her again she’d be okay with that too.  She turned on her skates and sped out the door, tearing down the hallway to get as far away from there as possible.  It was possible Killerwatt saw her on his cameras, or someone would question her about it later- or Wrench would decide that Slick’s insults did not deter her from learning the truth of the matter- all equally horrible, likely things.  

She skated as fast as she could through the compound, until finally- finally!- she found the door she was looking for and raced inside.  Empty, thank the stars- neither the frozen smiling faces in the photographs on the mirror nor that cloud-ribbon tiger on the wall would tell anyone if she gathered up one of the sheep in her arms- the big round one, the best for cuddling she had determined, though she could never remember which sheep exactly this was- and curled up on the bed, breathing hard until she felt marginally alright again.

Chapter Text

“Slick.”  A poke at her side, and she grumbled.  She was trying to sleep , random hand, go away -

“Sliiiiiiick.”  A light laugh, and she burrowed further into the person laying next to her.  Joule.

She was wrapped around the dynamite truck, having gravitated to her sometime in the night.  Joule was warm, and soft, and smelled like the explosions she loved and cinnamon spice.  Slick was okay staying here forever, cuddled with her, face burrowed into the crook of Joule’s neck.

“No,” she mumbled, “‘m warm.”  She turned her face into Joule again, trying to burrow down further into the blankets.

“Come on,” Joule nudged her again, “it’s your first day back.  'Curse of the drinking class' and all.”

“Fine,” Slick mumbled, craning her head up to glare sleepily at Joule, who only smiled.  She did, however, accept the kiss Slick gave her before the tanker moved to get out of bed and get ready for the day.

Her first day back- and her first day back in uniform.   She dressed in the sliver plating, grinning at Joule’s teasing whistle as she slipped on her underlayer.  She had to reapply her make up, back to the silver from the yellow.  It was hard to say goodbye, but the knowledge Joule had the colors again helped- she could steal the dynamite trucks makeup again to reapply her colors.  There was always that option.

She finished the look quickly, the black lipstick and setting powder the final touch.  A glance at her hair- the black and white updo still tightly braided in that faux-hawk style, and looked further into the mirror’s reflection, behind her to Joule, still buckling silver pieces into place.

“So, quick question,” she asked, skating over to Joule and kneeling down to help her with her plating- Joule had helped with hers before, it was only fair she returned the favor.  And if she was able to tease a little and run her fingers up Joule's thigh while helping with the armor on her legs, all the better.

“ What , you brat,” exclaimed Joule, slapping her hands away as Slick flashed her a smile, looking up at her from her crouch.

“Your makeup- why the different colors, if you only ever wear the silver?”  Joule appeared surprised by her question.

“I don’t get to wear other colors very often,” she started, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to, from time to time.”  Slick thought of the colors she had picked through- the yellow and orange she had used, the red for her lips, and a small vial of iridescent dark blue that had remained unopened and almost unnoticed.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Color?”

“Yeah- you have every color for fire, but which one do you like the best?”  Joule smiled at that, looking over to her vanity and the makeup assembled there.

“Red.”  Slick wrinkled her nose.

“Like my brother.”  

“ Not like your brother, his shade of red is way too orange.”  Slick made an unimpressed face at her.

“I’ll take your word for it.”  Joule did not seem to pick up on her sarcasm, instead nodding solemnly.  

“Good.”  She knelt down until she was at Slicks level, taking the surprised tankers face in her hands carefully.

“I will say though, you make a very convincing argument for yellow.”  Slick broke into a grin despite herself, and felt herself blush under the weight of Joule’s gaze.  The dynamite truck smiled wider, and leaned forward to kiss Slick deeply.  She threw her arms around Slick's neck as Slick's hands found their way to her hips.

“Happy to hear it,” Slick gasped between kisses, “I’d hate to not do it justice.”  She playfully nipped at Joule’s jaw, but in leaning forward they both lost their balance and crashed to the floor, Joule falling backwards with her arms still around Slick.  It was only Slick throwing an arm out to land beside Joule’s head that saved her from landing on top of the blushing truck.  They stared at each other a moment before Slick snickered and Joule began to giggle.

“Oh, I see- ‘Slick wake up, Slick, curse of the drinking class’- you’d play hooky in a second if you thought we could get away with it,”  Slick declared, and Joule nodded with a shameless smile, still wracked with giggles.

“Guilty.”  She gasped, “kiss me again?”  Slick obliged eagerly, the two simply a pile of metal on the rug in Joule’s room, the only witnesses to any of this the sheep Joule so loved.

After a few minutes they separated again, breathing hard.  Slick was lying on her back, staring up at the garlands on the ceiling, listening to her fans whir.  Joule laughed again, and Slick looked over at the dynamite truck with a smile of her own.

“Maybe I need another day,” Slick said, “I need to spend it in bed… recovering, or something.”

“Or something,” Joule repeated closing her eyes and tilting her head back.  She sighed, suddenly looking pensive, and sat up, glancing back down at Slick.

“We should get going,” she said, and Slick sat up as well, being pulled to her feet by Joule.

“Joule,” she said, but Joule didn’t say anything, simply looked down at their joined hands.  She turned, still holding Slicks hand, and skated towards the door.

The door slid open, but before either of them could enter the hall, Joule turned to face Slick, suddenly looking nervous.

“So.  You’re back to work today.”  Slick nodded, unsure where this was heading.

“Despite my best attempts.”  She joked weakly, but Joule only nodded in response, still looking slightly unsure.

“You… don’t need to be here to recover any more,” she spoke the words hesitantly, a little stilted, like she was nervous about Slick’s reaction, and Slick straightened up, swallowing hard as she gave a nod.  Joule didn’t need to be worried, though.  Message received, loud and clear.  Slick would miss sleeping with the dynamite truck, but Joule wanted her space back.  It was understandable, even if Slick wanted nothing less than to return to her blank room.  Slowly, she released Joule’s hand.  She would spare Joule having to say it, and herself having to hear it.

“I can move my stuff back to my place after work.”  Slick said.  It wasn’t like there was a ton to move after all, but oddly Joule didn’t look happy at this statement.

“Okay,” she said, somewhat dejectedly, “that- that’s great.”  Joule wasn’t looking at her anymore, glancing away from her out the door, and Slick had the feeling that somewhere in the last few minutes, she had missed something important.

“Well, I should get going.”  Joule said, turning and skating through the open door.  “I’ll be working late tonight, so just… come grab your stuff when you can.”  Slick nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and Joule smiled, small and in a way that didn’t reach her eyes.  She shifted slightly on her skates, opening her mouth to say something and then apparently thinking better of it.  She turned, and skated down the hallway before Slick could get another word in.

Slick watched her go, trying to wade through the rising emotions in her chest.  She had been so happy , waking up this morning with Joule, getting to chat and tease and kiss her, and now…

Joule had offered to let her stay with her during her time off- it had been nice, to not be alone, and to get to spend more time with Joule.  But now Joule was distant, and Slick was muddled- Joule had wanted space after Slick's stay, and Slick, not wanting to hear the dynamite truck utter the words, had offered it herself in an attempt to spare herself hearing it.  Self-preservation, and all.

It was all this on her mind as she skated through the compound, head swimming.  She saw a flash of Volta at one point, carrying a bolt of blue fabric under one arm and what appeared to be a tool box of some sort in the other, and passed Killerwatt in the hall, the security truck’s gaze following her as she passed, offering her a nod as she met his gaze.

Finally, she reached the office she inhabited, and the door slid open.  She skated inside, fully prepared to put all of her issues aside and begin to fix the problem she had caused and the work she had to do-

“Good morning Slick.”  A voice said, and she all but jumped a foot in the air.

“What the- Electra ?”

It was indeed the electric engine, who had been- had they been waiting in the dark ?

“What- how long have you been here?”  They glowed lightly, and Slick realized they were blushing as the other components did.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Were you waiting in the dark?”  They shifted on their wheels, and for the first time they looked slightly unsure and borderline defensive.  So they had been for some time.  It was almost funny, but she didn’t dare laugh.

“Wrench told me you would be back today,” they said, “I am glad you are doing better.”  Slick nodded slowly.  This was uncharted, odd territory.  Absently, she wondered if that was all Wrench told them.

“Okay?  Thanks?”  Now they could go?

“I also wanted to observe you back in your role.”  Fuck. Slick tensed.  

“If this is about the report I messed up I’ll fix it-“ their eyebrows raised, and she fell silent abruptly.

“I am not concerned with your work ethic.”

“So you’re just here to… watch?”

“Yes.”  What the fuck?  They ignore her basically as much as they could since she got kidnapped, and now they- what? Wanted to just watch her?  What the fuck .

“Why?”  They raised their shoulders in an elegant shrug, crossing the room to one of the chairs placed by the door.

“Curiosity.”  Was all they said, and said nothing more, a silent invitation for Slick to begin.  With a roll of her eyes and a determination to ignore the electric engine, she did.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty to do.  Organization was still the beast to battle that took up the most of her time, and she had that report to fix- the one that had started all of this.  She let herself get lost in the work of offering files and double checking math, losing track of time completely, until a voice broke the silence.

“So, you have a large family?”  Slick stopped and looked up to find Electra staring at them specifically.  Were they trying to make conversation?

“Uh. What?”  She asked, scanning her papers to make sure she hadn’t lost her place.

“Your Momma.  She has a lot of children at your yard.  Even your controller.”  Oh.  They wanted to know about her family.  Clearly they had made a few assumptions here- Momma wasn’t her real name, Slick knew, but she had been Momma for so long everyone just… called her that, children or no.

“No, everyone just calls her Momma.  But she only has four kids.”

“Oh?”

“Me and the other freights.”

“Not the other little steamer?”  They leaned forward slightly, evidently curious about her answer.

“No.”  She did not want to think about Rusty.

“They seemed close.”  Electra mused, “she wanted him to win the race.”

“They are.”  She kept her eyes determinedly on her files, already arranged perfectly.  

“Why crash him, then?”

“Because he’s not family.”   Momma was her mom- he needed to remember that, even if Momma seemed more proud of him for racing than she ever had been of her or Lumber, he still wasn’t Momma’s kid.  They were.

It… it wasn’t his fault, she knew.  She did know that- Rusty was nothing but nice and polite, and she did feel bad about the fact that he had gotten caught in the crosshairs of it all- even if she hadn’t believed he would win before she had gotten involved.  She had just been angry.  And hurt.  And scared she would lose Momma for good to him.  Who would want an oil tanker who thought steam was obsolete when you could have a steam engine who had won the championship and proved them all wrong?

She was drawn out of her thoughts by Electra humming in response to her statement.  They said nothing, and she looked over to see them examining their nails.

It was her turn to ask, she figured.  Fair was only fair.

“What about you?”  She asked, and they looked up, raising their eyebrows.

“What about me?”

“What about your family?  Parents, siblings?”  She knew precious little about the engine, and hoped this might give her some insight into them.

“I was constructed some time ago, and brought on a staff soon after.”  They said, seemingly in response to her question.  If only that was an answer.

“But like… who looked after you?  Was anyone else constructed too?”

“The engine of the future is one of a kind,” they said, head cocked slightly as they blinked at her slowly.

Okay.  That was honestly pretty sad.  Even though her relationships weren’t what they once were, Slick couldn’t imagine life without Momma, or Porter and Lumber.  Even Hydra, though he had come into their family so much later, was still her brother, annoying tanker though he was.  And the freights were a matched set.  Family.

“So, you don’t… have a family?”  She ventured cautiously.

“My components are my family,” They looked confused, and she was sure she was no better.  That didn’t make sense.

“Your… employees are your family?”

“Yes.”

“But… you pay them to stay here.  You’re their boss.”

“Yes.”  They were staring at her uncomprehendingly- they didn’t get what she was saying.

“But… would they stay with you if you weren’t paying them?”  She asked hesitantly, and they blinked at her.

“They are loyal to me.”  They still looked confused, but certain in their statement.  She already knew that though- Joule had said as much.  It was sweet, and it was clear how much they cared for one another, but at the end of the day Electra was still their boss.  Not their friend.

“Okay, but… that’s not the same thing.”  She was concerned she was going to upset them- she needn’t be.  They still looked confused.

“No one pays me to be in a family,” She managed.  She thought of Momma, of Porter and Lumber and Hydra, and the nights she had spent curled up with Momma when she was little and had a bad dream, or the times she played board games with her brothers.  “No one pays me to… to love my family.”  

Silence.  Slick could only stare at Electra as they processed this.

“You believe that their care for me is contingent on their employment.”  They said quietly.  For the life of her, Slick could not figure out what they were thinking.

“I don’t know.”  She said in response.  They looked troubled now, and she realized she actually did feel kinda bad now, “but loyalty isn’t the same as love.”  They said nothing in response to that, only looked down at their hands folded in their lap.  For several seconds they did nothing, and Slick waited, until finally they nodded, and looked back up at her.  They stood, and she watched as they made their way to the door, turning back towards her as they reached it.

“Thank you for your time, Slick,”  They said quietly, “This has been… enlightening.”  Slick could say nothing to that, only nodded as the door slid open and they skated out into the hall.  The door shut, and she was left with the sinking feeling that whatever Electra had hoped to figure out by watching her work, they had been blindsided by something they were wholly unprepared for instead.

Chapter Text

The dream played out exactly as she remembered.  She was relaxing, taking a break from her shift in a little-visited corner of the yard.  She liked the solitude of the space- no one bothered her here.  No one, until now.

“Greaseball wants to see you.”

It had been Golden Eagle and Blue Lightning who had come to get her, in the end.  Neither engine looked particularly happy to see her, and she had quickly scrabbled to her feet, immediately on guard.

“Why?”  She asked, and was rewarded with Eagle grabbing onto her by her tubing and hauling her up and forward, until the two of them were face to face.

“You don’t get to ask questions, tanker,” he snarled, “you’re coming with us.”  His hands dug into her tubing and she scrabbled to stay upright, holding on to his forearms as she tried desperately to balance on her toe stops.

“Eagle.” Both Slick and Golden Eagle looked over at the other engine, whose arms were crossed with a frown on her face, “you don’t need to hurt her.  Yet.”  Slowly, his grasp loosened, though he did not let go, as the two engines stared at each other.  

Finally, he scoffed, “You’re the one who said she was tricky, you deal with her,”. He shoved Slick roughly towards Blue Lightning, and it was only the blue engine’s tight grip that kept Slick from falling to the ground.

“You fucked up this time,” muttered Lightning, “Greaseball is pissed.”  She said nothing else, and with another shove to her back from Golden Eagle, the trio set out across the yard to… wherever they were going.  Slick didn’t ask for fear of Eagle getting angry again.

She was dragged all the way across the yard- literally.  Both Golden Eagle and Blue Lightning were much taller than she was, and on normal shifts with them she often had to skate faster to keep up with them in comparison.  This time, she wasn’t given a choice- any time she had lagged or slowed, Lightning would yank her forward, until she was speeding along under the engine's power.  Golden Eagle followed close behind- she could hear his engine behind her, but she didn’t dare turn to look.  She didn’t dare ask what exactly this was about- Greaseball was angry with her, that was really all she needed to know.

Finally, they stopped in front of an old warehouse- one of the ones no longer officially in service, and so could be used by trainfolk for their own purposes.  Golden Eagle pulled open the door, and she was dragged inside.

It was clearly some sort of meeting place for the diesel engines.  Greaseball was there, seated on an old steel spool, deep in conversation with Orange Flash.  Green Arrow was closer to the door, leaning up against an old shipping crate and fiddling with one of his wrist guards.  All three of them looked up as the large warehouse door rolled open and sunlight streamed into the dusty space.

Blue Lightning pushed Slick forward, into the center of the space and consequently closer to Greaseball and Flash.  She did not remove her hands from Slick’s arms, immediately putting the oil tanker on guard for whatever was about to happen.  Greaseball simply watched, head tilted and saying nothing as Slick heard more wheels approach.  Green Arrow, closing in.  Behind her, the warehouse door shut, and the weak afternoon sunlight was gone as quickly as it arrived, plunging the room into grey dingy shadow once more.  None of them said anything, letting the echoing of the door slam ring out and die.

Greaseball still said nothing, Flash at her side.  She simply stared at the yellow tanker evenly, face twisted in a glare that would make a lesser freight quake.  Slick was not immune to this glare either, but steeled herself against showing outward weakness.  Inside, however, something froze, hard and cold.  She swallowed, and waited.  Finally, Greaseball spoke.

“Bullet’s in the shop, thanks to you.”  Oh shit.

“I didn’t-“

“I don’t care.”  The diesel train’s voice had taken on a hard, dangerous tone, and Slick quickly stopped talking.

So that’s what this was about.  She had rigged a race for a competitor from out of town a couple days ago- nothing major, just a train looking for a leg up who paid well.  It had simply been bad luck Bullet had been where he was, but he and one other competitor had crashed rather spectacularly due to the oil she had spilled.  She had thought she had gotten away with it, like she always had, but clearly somehow Greaseball had found out.  How-

Holy shit.  Flash was still standing next to Greaseball, behind and to the right where Eagle usually was.  Flash was never Greaseball’s right hand, unless… they had provided her with something valuable.  Like insider knowledge about Slick’s extracurriculars.  They had sold her out.  Flash met her gaze and shrugged unrepentantly, confirming her suspicions.  Fucking traitor- literally.  See if Slick ever messed around with them again-

“Ah-ah,” Greaseball clicked her fingers, drawing Slick's attention back to her as she slowly stood and began to drift forward.  Slick felt rather than saw the other engines advancing as well, drawing closer.  Trapping her.  “Don’t look at them, look at me.”  The diesel engine crossed her arms, still staring at her with that menacing scowl.

“Where’s your loyalty, Slick?  Crashing a member of your own yard like that.”

“I’m loyal to whoever pays the best,” spat Slick, hoping she sounded less scared than she was, “it’s not my problem if someone is at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

The blow came out of nowhere, so hard that Slick’s head snapped to the side and she saw stars.  When her vision returned, she found Greaseball still standing in front of her, gaze dark with fury.

“It doesn’t look good when this happens.”  Snapped Greaseball, “For us.  For the yard.  Makes it seem like we’re losing control of our trains.”  She spoke quietly, and Slick gritted her teeth.

“I’m not a spokesperson or a racing champion, deal with that yourself.”  Greaseball laughed.  It was not a nice sound.

“No, you’re not- what are you, except a dumb little tanker who needs to learn to do what she’s told?”  Sneered Greaseball, and a dark chuckle ran through the assembled engines.

She tensed, shifting slightly on her wheels, and felt the hands grasping at her arms tighten to the point of pain.

“Give me a reason,” muttered Blue Lightning behind her, “I’m hoping you will.”

That… that stung, a little.  She knew what she and Lightning had was just sex, same as with Flash, but- she had hoped that it would at least endear the diesel engine a little to her.  Lightning liked Slick because her small size made her easy to manhandle, and use her for the engine’s pleasure.  It made her feel powerful, Slick knew.  Right now, Slick would bet she felt that regardless- she was surrounded by engines who wanted nothing more than to tear her apart if she stepped out of line.  And she had.

Flash was no better- the orange engine sneering along with Greaseball’s words.  There was no sympathy for Slick here.

 “You’re useful, Slick.”  Greaseball said softly, quietly, “Useful is good.  But you are so, so stupid to think there wouldn’t be consequences to crashing one of our own.”  Blue Lightning’s grip, already painful, tightened even further- Slick could hear her plating begin to groan at the pressure.

The punch she expected but still wasn’t fully prepared for- a fist to her stomach that knocked the wind out of her and sent her fans working in overtime as she fought for air.  She doubled over, and this time Lightning let her drop.  Slick could hear laughter from the others as she curled in on herself on the ground.

“Next time, think twice about working with an engine from outside the yard.  Am I clear?”  Slick said nothing, still gasping for air, and she saw the black and yellow skates of Greaseball grow even closer as the engine knelt down in front of her.

She grabbed Slick’s chin roughly, forcing the tanker to look at her.  Slick could feel where the diesel’s nails pierced her skin.

“I asked you a question, freight.   Am. I. Clear?”  Slick swallowed, acutely aware of the threat being posed.  There was really only one answer she could give.

“Crystal.”

Slick bolted upright in bed, chest still heaving from the nightmare.  It wasn’t real- it had happened ages ago- but thanks to her dream it still felt like she was curled up in that dusty warehouse, surrounded by engines who wanted nothing more than to make her pay.  

She glanced frantically around white walls that were a slightly lighter shade of grey in the darkness, trying to ground herself.  They were no help, blank and featureless.  Horrible.

She couldn’t stay here, she thought as she hugged her knees.  She didn’t want to be alone, with only the memories of hard-learned lessons of why she should always be on her guard haunting her.  She knew where she needed to go.

Slick threw off of the covers, quickly making her way out the door of her room.  The rest of the compound was dark; there was no one there to see her speeding through the space, retracing the path she had taken only hours ago, so sure then that she would not be returning.  But here she was now, in front of the room she knew she was no longer welcome in.  But now she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The door slid open, the space full of shadowy shapes that she knew well.  She cautiously entered the room slowly, scared to wake Joule for fear of being turned away and told to go back to her own room, but knowing that ultimately it was her only option.

Joule was curled up in her bed, facing Slick.  She looked peaceful, and for a moment Slick simply stood there, debating.  She could go back to her room- Joule would never know she was here.  But she didn’t want to- and if she was honest with herself she wasn’t sure if she could.

Joule shifted in bed, eyes fluttering lightly, and Slick stiffened slightly.  Maybe she had been alerted to the sound of Slick’s fans- maybe she was just a light sleeper.  Who knew.  Who cared.  Either way, she was awake.

“Slick?”  Joule muttered, craned her head towards the tanker.  Slick said nothing, the whirring of her fans the only sound in the space.  Speaking felt beyond her in the moment.  After a moment, Joule seemed to realize she was not actually dreaming and Slick was in fact standing there, and sat up, rubbing her eyes, “are you alright?”

“Can I- can I stay here?”  Slick gasped, “I know you wanted space, but I can’t- I can’t -“ 

“Whoa, yeah of course.”  Joule pulled back the covers and opened her arms, and Slick pounced, crawling into the bed and latching on tight.  Joule's arms encircled her automatically, and for a moment the two of them laid there, Slick laying on top of Joule, as Slick tried to get her breathing under control.

“Bad dream?” Joule asked quietly, and Slick nodded.

“Memories,” was what she said in response, and she felt Joule nod against the top of her head.  A moment later, she felt a kiss on the top of her head.

“I get them too,” Joule said quietly, and Slick looked up at her to see Joule staring blankly at the ceiling, caught up in something only she could see.  She hugged Joule tighter, and the pressure seemed to make Joule jolt, looking back down at Slick.  She was frowning slightly, but squeezed the tanker back.  For the life of her, Slick couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and settled on the most obvious reassurance she could.

“It’s just for tonight,” Slick said quickly to reassure her, “I’ll go back to my room tomorrow, I swear.”  Once again, her words did not have the intended effect on the dynamite truck, who swallowed and nodded.

“Am I really that terrible?”  Asked Joule.  It sounded like she was trying to make a joke, but the uncharacteristic anxiety in her voice made it fall flat.  

“No, not at all,” Slick said, scrambling for words, “I just figured… you probably want space after having me here for so long.”  She had tightened her grip slightly on Joule as she spoke, for fear of the dynamite truck truly confirming her worries, but Joule said nothing, only laid back and stared up at the ceiling again, idly stroking Slick’s back.  Slowly, Slick put her head on Joule’s chest, and closed her eyes, listening to the electric’s pump.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t stay.”  Joule finally whispered, “stay forever, if you’d like.”  Slick felt Joule’s hand fist in the back of her shirt as she spoke.  Oh.  Okay then.  Slick didn’t move from her position, but placed a kiss on Joule’s collarbone, enjoying how Joule shivered slightly and her arms tightened.

“Don’t say that,” she murmured in response, “I will move in, your bed is really soft.”  She felt Joule laugh, and she smiled slightly, “and the company isn’t bad either.”

“No, I guess not,” Joule mused, “I’m rather fond of a certain tanker I’ve been talking to recently, ya know?”

“Oh, a freight? Yikes,” said Slick, making a face.  Her dream was too fresh in her mind to be willing to hear about anything Joule found nice about her.  In retaliation, Joule flicked her nose.

“Don’t say it like that, she’s great.  This one is funny, and smart, and she’s really strong- her arms are no joke.  And her abs…like, holy shit- I thought I was laying on rocks at first, but no, she’s just actually jacked.”  Slick snorted, feeling an odd pressure in her chest as she listened to Joule wax poetic about her.

“She’s strong, is she?”  No one had ever wanted her for that before, and she found herself wanting to hear more about what Joule thought about that.

“ So strong.  Like, I can carry her but I’m pretty sure she could bench press me if she wanted.  It’s really hot.”  Slick ducked her head, blushing, but Joule gently guided her chin so Slick was looking at her.  The dynamite truck was still smiling now, but softer, fond.

“She’s also really smart,” said Joule, “she’s completely overhauled the finances and impressed Electra- and I can’t make heads or tails of it, but I can’t imagine anyone ever calling her dumb.”   Joule finished her thought, almost shyly as she stared at Slick, gaging her reaction.  Slick was openly staring at Joule now, mouth open and trying to find the words to respond.  She found none however, and settled instead for leaning forward to kiss Joule as deeply as she could.  Then do it again.  And again.

Joule made a soft sound, almost like a sigh, and that spurred Slick on, kissing her with the fervor of all the words she couldn’t say.  Joule was just as eager, meeting her enthusiasm with plenty of her own.  Distantly, Slick considered how fortunate it was that their rooms were all soundproofed.

Joule’s hands were on her now, gently flipping them so the dynamite truck was on top and guiding her to lay back while still kissing her as hard as she could.  Once Slick’s head hit the pillows, Joule sat up and straddled Slick’s hips, smiling down at her.  Slick could only look up and stare, the familiar habit of waiting for her partner to take coming back in full force.  It was what she knew, and what she expected.  She was good for that.

But Joule did none of that.  Instead, Joule reached forward and grasped at her pajama shirt, dark eyes staring down at her and waiting for Slick’s permission.  At Slick’s shaky nod, she began to unbutton it slowly, pushing the soft material over Slick’s shoulders and down her arms.

Even once Joule had Slick’s shirt undone, nothing she did was as Slick expected: there was no hasty grabbing at her or rough placement of Slick's hands on the dynamite truck: only Joule, staring down at her and softly touching her in ways that left goosebumps wherever her fingers trailed.  She leaned forward and kissed Slick again, at first feather-light and building force as she went.  Slick’s hands found Joule’s shirt and began to unbutton it as well, exposing warm planes of soft skin.  Fair was only fair, after all.

Joule’s hands began to move lower, toying with her pajama shorts, and the truck began to mouth at her neck and collarbone as she did.  Joule moved lower, from collarbone to sternum, and Slick realized what the dynamite truck intended.

“Wait-“ She gasped, and Joule stilled,  “I’ve- I’ve never-” Her past partners had always demanded she use her mouth on them, but they had never returned the favor- it had always been rough fingers, if they had cared enough.  Most of the time they hadn’t.  This was uncharted territory.  Mercifully, Joule seemed to understand.

“Do you want me to stop?”  Asked Joule, peering at her intently for an answer.

“Don’t you dare,” Slick breathed, more pleading than anything else.  Her hands slowly moved to push Joule’s top completely off, the dynamite truck letting her set the pace.  She absolutely, positively, did not want Joule to stop.  The world could end right now, and she wouldn’t register any of it, only Joule’s hands and mouth on her for as long as it would last.

“Trust me, okay?”  Joule whispered softly, darting back up to kiss her properly.  Then, with a smile that Slick returned, she began her migration again.  This time, Slick did not ask her to stop, and did not fight the feeling- she only closed her eyes as Joule kissed her, going down and down and down.

Chapter Text

Slick’s new favorite thing was mornings with Joule.

She could admit that to herself now, now that she had essentially permanently moved in with Joule.  It had been a week: a week of waking up and getting to lay in bed with the dynamite truck before getting ready for the day, a week of returning to work, a week of getting to finish work in a timely manner (“you are not overworking yourself on my watch”) and just get to explore the compound.  Best of all, a week full of deep, uninterrupted sleep.  Even before everything, back in her yard, Slick didn’t think she had ever felt this good.  The romantic in her wanted to say it was the new sleeping arrangement.  The realist in her knew it was probably her repairs or getting an appropriate amount of sleep or something stupid like that.  Whatever.

They had settled into a tentative form of real peace, in the days that had followed Slick’s return to work, and a week later it was holding strong.  They had been granted a full day off- a rarity according to Joule.  It was still mid-morning, though it was hard to tell that as rain battered the windows, a far cry from the dusty sunlight that normally flooded the old train station at this hour. 

She was seated on one of the couches with Volta, Joule, and Wrench.  She, Joule, and Volta were playing an intense game of UNO, with the promise of not causing major property damage this time, while Wrench was fiddling with one of the small army of robotic rats that worked to keep the place clean.  She had opened up its back and seemed to be working with something around its torso- every now and again she would tap its head and its eyes would glow as it chittered.  The repair truck would peer at it intensely, nod, then continue working.

Wrench had not approached Slick since the tanker’s medical clearance to return to work, a fact Slick was secretly grateful for.  She hadn’t seemed to mention it to anyone else either, not even Electra, for reasons Slick could only guess at.  Maybe she was respecting patient confidentiality (unlikely), or perhaps hoping for some blackmail material on the tanker (more reasonable).  Or, perhaps she was more like Killerwatt, where whatever he thought was happening, he was simply keeping it to himself.  Slick didn’t know, and didn’t care.  Wrench’s reasoning could stay her own, same as Killerwatt’s- what mattered was what either of them chose to do with their suspicions, which so far had been- nothing.  Eerie nothing.

Volta and Joule, however, remained none the wiser in this respect, a fact that Slick was grateful for.  It meant she could kick ass at UNO, with no fear of repercussions.  Or rather she would have, had Joule not placed the yellow reverse card right before she could place her last card, allowing Volta to win.  Damn it.  Betrayed by her own color.

Joule, for her part, had been completely blindsided by this, turning to a very smug Volta.

“Traitor! How could you?” She cried dramatically, to which he scoffed. 

“Joule, you were never going to win.”  Volta crossed his arms and smirked unsympathetically.  “We hit you with three ‘draw four’ cards in a row.”

“I might have,” Joule crossed her arms, pouting.  “Slick would have let me win.”  Slick flashed her an incredulous look.

“You literally just caused me to lose!  And for the record-” she slammed her last card- coincidentally also a draw four- on the table, “I would have absolutely hit you with this if Volta hadn’t won.”

Volta barked out a laugh while Joule gasped, and Slick had a moment to snicker herself before Joule threw herself down onto her.

“How could you?”  Slick spat out a mouthful of hair and looked down at the dynamite truck in her lap, and then up to Volta, who was watching this with a bored expression, suggesting this was not the first time Joule had been a sore loser.

“Well, you’re not very good at UNO,” Volta said, “it’s not even fun to beat you, it’s just expected at this point.”  Silence for a moment, and Slick made eye contact with Wrench, both thinking the same thing.  Brace for impact .

“That is the meanest thing you have ever - 

“No it is not , I said worse to you yesterday-“

“Volta, you’re being incredibly mean to Joule right now, what the hell-“

“Wrench, back me up please-“

The argument continued, the trio talking over each other in a cacophony of sound- Slick no longer knew what the argument was about, only that it was her job to sow as much dissent as possible- and maybe end up on Joule’s side.  Maybe.

The yelling was cut short as the fifth component entered the hub.  All four of them looked up as Killerwatt trudged in, an impressive feat to accomplish since he was on skates and primarily rolled.  This was already a far cry from the calm and collected security truck they were familiar with, and Slick felt Joule jerk back a little and scramble off of her as he approached.

Killerwatt collapsed onto the couch next to Volta, looking… shell shocked, for lack of a better word.  It was a strange sight on the normally stoic tanker, and Slick sat up fully and pushed Joule off of her to get a better look, exchanging another look with Wrench.  Weirdly enough, they seemed to both be on the same page about this, too.  Something was very wrong.

“Um, Killerwatt?  You good?”  She asked hesitantly when none of the other components did.  Volta waved a hand in front of the security truck’s face carefully, and Killerwatt turned to the freezer truck with big watery eyes.

“Electra kicked me out,” said a Killerwatt in the smallest voice Slick had ever heard from him, “they said it was a gross overreach of my employment and that I never should have been in their room to begin with- they hate me.”  He cried, burying his face in his hands, “and I don’t know what I did .”

Volta was now patting Killerwatt’s back with a grimace and shooting a wide eyed glance at the others.  Help me , he was mouthing as Killerwatt fell sideways into him, resembling a pile of scrap metal with big, wet eyes more than anything else.

“Okay, whoa, I’m sure that’s not true,” said Joule, confused and concerned, “we tease you about it but you are totally their favorite, they do not hate you.”  She too stood up from her seat and carefully approached the pair, sitting down beside Killerwatt and rubbing his arm, “I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

Slick watched this, beginning to feel prickles of concern.  Was this due to her conversation with Electra?  She hadn’t thought too much of it- she had her own problems to clear up with the finances, and they hadn’t come to see her since.  Their admission about their own perception of family had been strange, but she hadn’t thought she was wrong for pointing out the fact that they paid the components (and her, apparently, but she had yet to see it) to work for them, to be there.  Maybe that could be family, but it hadn’t seemed like this had occurred to them- that employees weren’t necessarily friends.  She wondered if it had ever occurred to the others either- they were loyal to Electra, but why?

“I’ll go check on Electra,” muttered Volta, “see if they’ll tell me what’s going on.”  He very gently pushed Killerwatt off of him and into a crumpled heap in Joule’s arms, and stood, skating off one of the hallways to where Electra presumably was.

“It’s okay,” Joule was telling Killerwatt, “I’m sure it won’t be for very long, you know they can have their moods.”  Killerwatt nodded, but based on his expression he was a million miles away, and not truly listening.  Joule frowned.

“Hey,” Joule tried again, poking him in the side, “I know- you can stay with Wrench until this blows over.  I’ll bet she needs protection.”  She shot a look at Slick, who nodded along as Killerwatt’s eyes turned to her.

“Joule’s right Killerwatt, I’m sure Wrench would love a roommate.”  They all looked over to Wrench, who was currently organizing some form of portable tools that looked akin to torture devices.  Behind Killerwatt, Joule shot her a look, and Slick had to look down to stifle a laugh as Wrench nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she said haltingly, “I am a damsel in distress.  I will definitely need protection.” 

Joule made an and? motion with her hand, and the repair truck sighed.

“And if it makes you feel better, you can sleep in my room for a few nights.”

“Thank you,” said the security truck tearfully, and Wrench sighed.

“You could always talk to them,” she suggested, and Killerwatt shook his head quickly, detangling himself from Joule to sit up.

“ No - Wrench, you didn’t hear them this time.  They were really clear they didn’t want me there,” he made a choked sound, and continued,  “I think I really screwed things up.   I can’t .”  Wrench frowned, her face clearly one of concern.

“I sincerely doubt that,” she began, but whatever she was going to say next was cut off by the sound of wheels approaching as Volta skated back into the hub.

“Well, they are currently hiding in their room like a coward ,” Volta yelled back down the hallway, “and won’t open the door to talk.  So I’m back.”  He looked at the group, and how Killerwatt was now sitting up, and brightened, speeding over. 

“It’s not all bad,” he said to Killerwatt, “we can hang out more now.  We could watch a movie, or- we could play Monopoly! You love Monopoly!”

“Electra was always so good at Monopoly,” Killerwatt said despondently, and Volta sighed.

“Or maybe we go hit things until our problems feel more manageable instead,” he said resignedly.  “What sounds good?”

“Can we do the third one?” Asked Killerwatt, and Volta nodded.

“Yeah buddy, gym or rage room?  We have plates to break if you want.”  Killerwatt paused, considering.

“Gym.”

“Okay, I can hold the boxing pads.  Sound good?” Volta asked, and upon Killerwatt’s  nod tugged the security truck to his feet.  Volta put his arm around Killerwatt’s shoulders and the pair skated off, across the hub and past the giant light up map.

“On an unrelated note, how do you feel about knitting?”  Slick heard Volta ask, but they were gone down a hallway before she heard Killerwatt answer.

Now, it was Slick, Joule, and Wrench left in the hub, the repair truck leveling Joule with a flat look.

“I am going to miss out on so much phone sex because of this,” she said flatly to Joule, who shrugged.

“Sucks to suck- I would have said he could stay with me but I already have a roommate.”  She cuddled into Slick, who grinned at the repair truck shamelessly.  Sucks to suck, Wrench .  She placed a kiss on Joule’s forehead for good measure, and was rewarded with a smile.

“You two are disgusting,” said Wrench, making a face.

“Oh please, the instant Other-Joule shows up you two are going to be even worse- she uses multiple vacation days so they can ‘catch up’” Joule informed Slick conspiratorially before turning back to Wrench, “you have no leg to stand on.”

“Other-Joule?”  Slick asked.  This was not someone she had heard of before.

“Wrench’s girlfriend, coincidentally also named Joule.  Tall, German, hot- lots of fun at parties.  She works for one of Electra’s sibling engines- we met at an event awhile back.”  Joule smiled with glee, “Wrench didn’t realize they were flirting for the longest time, it was really funny.”  The repair truck in question scowled at her, but was absolutely glowing with a light bluish-purple blush.  

“Other Joule stole her tool belt and put it on to make Wrench chase her.”  Joule continued, eyes sparkling as she began her story,  “And Wrench-”

“Was completely justified in her reaction.“ Wrench muttered.

“-chased her down and pinned her against a wall to get her belt back.  Electra yelled at them both because they thought Wrench had decided to fuck her there.”

“ What ?”  Slick couldn’t contain her laughter, even under the threat of Wrench’s glare.  Joule cackled, continuing.

“And of course, Wrench thought the entire thing was a ploy to make her look bad because Electra told her if her pants came off for any reason she was fired and the entire time this lecture was happening Other-Joule was hanging off of her and giving her bedroom eyes- Electra was going to lose it , it was really funny.”

“So what did you do?” asked Slick, and Wrench met her gaze evenly.

“We fucked in the coat room and she gave me her number.”  Slick blinked as Joule groaned.

“You are the worst storyteller- where’s the romance?  The passion ?”  Joule may have been right, but Slick leaned forward, invested.

“Did you get your belt back?”  Slick asked.  Wrench smiled mischievously.

“I did.  Sometimes she steals it again- only this time there are less clothes involved.”  Wrench’s head tilted consideringly, “and I get to wear a different sort of belt.”  She smirked as Slick made a face.

“I didn’t ask for details about your sex life, why -”

“Because Joule gets jealous I’m getting more than her.”  Wrench cut her off, nodding sagely.

“That’s what you thi-“ Joule retorted, and Slick placed a hand over her mouth before she could finish that sentence.  Whatever they had was still new.  Best to keep some things private for the time being.  Wrench’s eyebrows rose.

“Huh.  Guess we’ll have to up our game.”  Now that was a challenge Slick could get behind.

“Guess you might.”  She said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Well, if you ever want pointers,” began Wrench, “look elsewhere.”

“Really feeling the love here,” Slick snarked, and was rewarded with a laugh from the repair truck.

“I don’t try.” 

Lightning crashed outside, and for a moment the lights in the hub flickered, plunging the room into a split-second of darkness.  Wrench sighed and stood, placing her instruments back into their bag.  The rat she had been working on chittered again to her on the table, and with a few hand gestures- Slick caught signs for sleep , go , and find , among others- the rat scuttled off to wherever the rest of them stayed when not in use.

“I’m going to go check on the backup generator.”  She announced.  “This storm is supposed to last all week, and the last thing we need is a power outage.”

“That would be bad,” agreed Slick, and Wrench rolled her eyes.

“Really stating the obvious lately, aren’t you? She said, and Slick glowered.  Screw whatever Wrench suspected, she was going down .

“I’ll show you what’s obvious-”

“No! Nope,” Joule stood to get in between the two of them, “let’s not do this.  Wrench, you promised .”  Wrench rolled her eyes, but seemed to back down.

“I told you I wouldn’t be too mean, not that I wouldn’t be mean at all.”  She scowled, and turned, skating out of the hub.  Lightning flashed, and outside thunder rolled in response, leaving the two remaining components seated in the hub.  Fortunately, the lights remained on: no power surge nor outage occurred.

“I could have handled her,” Slick complained, sitting back and purposely knocking into Joule, wrapping her arms around the dynamite truck and pushing them back until it was Joule who fell back against the couch as Slick clambered on top of her.

“I don’t doubt it.”  Joule grinned up at Slick, “but Wrench plays dirty, and I like you a little too much to take that chance.”  Slick smiled at that, considering.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she said, and readjusted herself so she lay next to Joule on the couch, legs entangled.

“Now what?”  Slick asked.  They still had a day to kill after all, even with the theatrics of the morning behind them.  Joule’s eyes narrowed in thought, then she smiled, evidently having had an idea.  She leaned in to kiss Slick, then drew back and nodded to the table.  Slick had the sinking feeling she knew what Joule would suggest before she next spoke.  Unfortunately, it was what she feared.

“Another round?”  Joule suggested.  The yellow reverse card still lay upon the top of the pile, teasing her and promising nothing but anguish.

“Absolutely not.”  She quickly shut that down.  She had learned very quickly that when Joule played, nobody really won.

“Boo.”

Chapter Text

The beginning of the end began two days later.

It was the early evening, though given how dark the sky was outside, it could have been the middle of the night, for all anyone knew.  Slick had managed to get to a stopping point in her work and had left her office early, the lights continuing to flicker.

She ran into Volta in the hall outside her office, the freezer truck having evidently come to the same conclusion as she had and skating to meet her.  She crossed her arms, but smiled as he approached.

“Rough day?”  She asked, and he huffed.  

“Power surges and sewing machines do not mix,” she raised her eyebrows, and he grimaced, “once the black smoke leaves something you know it’s fucked.”  Slick nodded in response.  What did you even say to that?

“How’s Killerwatt doing?”  she asked as they entered the hub.

“About as well as you’d expect.  He’s still adamant about doing his job for Electra, but he’s miserable doing it, so he’s just following them around looking upset.”

“Yikes.”

“It’s not like they’re any better.”  Volta rolled his eyes, “As long as they’re in one of their moods and won’t talk to anyone about why they kicked Killerwatt out, I think they deserve to be followed around by their moping security truck.  They should see what they did.”  Volta’s words may have seemed mean, but his face betrayed his true feelings on the matter.  He was troubled, and worried for both of them.

Something in her twisted at the thought.  She was fairly certain what had caused the engine’s sudden distance- her.  And even if Volta was irritated about Electra’s treatment of Killerwatt, it was clear he was also concerned about the electric engine.

“Look, Volta, you should know-“  but her concerns about her conversation with Electra would have to wait, for at that moment there was a flash and a distant pop and suddenly they were plunged into inky blackness, the only light emanating from their belts and backpacks.  The light reflected slightly off of the silver plating the two wore, giving Slick the faintest outline of the freezer truck.

“Was that the-”

“The generator blowing?  Yes, yes it was.”  Volta huffed, and a moment later Slick heard a clunk that she took to mean he had stamped his skate on the ground.

“This couldn’t have happened hours ago?” Volta complained and Slick stifled a laugh.

“I'm sorry, did the princess not want to work today?  Was it too much?”  She asked, and she heard a gasp as the vague Volta-shaped outline turned towards her.

“I nearly sewed my fingers into a coat, you brat.  The worst a power surge will do for you is what, turn off a computer?  Make you redo a few data points.”  Damn it.  He made a good point.

 “Sound’s like quitter’s talk.”  The sound of his wheels abruptly halted, and she immediately felt a hand smack the back of her head.

“Dick!”  She shouted, and turned to hit him back.  Unfortunately he was ready for her, and placed his hand on her forehead to hold her back, so she was simply taking shots at the air, swinging wildly.

“As exciting as this is,” Volta said in a bored tone of voice, seemingly unbothered by he blind attacks, “let's try to find the others.”

“Fine,” Slick grumbled, stepping back.  As soon as she realized Volta had turned away, arm dropping, she darted forward to fall into stride with him, being sure to ‘accidentally’ jostle him in the process.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry- it’s dark.”  It was, but they both knew she was lying.

“Right.”  Said Volta in a tone that said he did not believe her but would ignore it in favor of their bigger problems.

They entered the central hub, which was unsurprisingly dark.  Lightning flashed in the high up windows as more rain slammed into the windows, periodically throwing small flashes of light through the hub.

“Right,” announced Volta, “In emergency situations the central hub is our meeting place, so others should be on their way shortly.  I’m going to go try to find Wrench, she’ll probably be monitoring the emergency generator.  Stay here.”  Slick nodded, then realized he couldn’t see.

“If you’re not back in five minutes I’m going to start setting things on fire for light.”  She threatened, and he sighed, but gave no other response.  She saw the emblem on his back appear as he turned and began to skate away.

“It’ll be for warmth too,” she hollered after him, “because you’re so frigid.”

“Good,” he yelled. “All my cold silent motor feels is disdain for you.”  His lights disappeared down one of the other halls, Slick grinning as she watched him go.  Volta was very fun to rile up.

She slowly skated forward, arms outstretched and carefully searching for the edge of the couch.  It wouldn’t do to trip in the dark, and it wasn’t like the light her belt gave off was that helpful. 

She had found the edge of the couch in the dark when lightning flashed again.  The room went dark, and the thunder crashed- and suddenly, she had the distinct impression she wasn’t alone.

“Boo!”  Arms encircled her waist and a giggle sounded in her ear as she jerked in surprise.

“You nearly caused my pump to stall,” Slick complained with a smile, turning in Joule’s arms to face the dynamite truck.  Joule was nearly invisible in the dark, only able to be glimpsed in flashes of lighting through the windows and glinting off of her silver plating.  In Slick’s mind, the flashes that she caught of Joule- the glimpse of her smile, the flash of her pale hair- made her appear ethereal, like the stars themselves had found their home in her.

“It was too good to resist,” murmured the dynamite truck, hands moving to rest on Slick’s waist as Slick wound her own around Joule’s neck, “why were you alone in the dark anyways?”

“Volta was here, he skated off to find the others.  Told me to sit tight.”

“Smart.”  Joule remarked, nodding.

“I also told him that I’d set things on fire if he left me alone for too long.”  A pause, and then Joule gave a surprised laugh.

“Oh, nice!  Honestly we could use some redecorating in here, it’s been long enough.”

“Point out the stuff you want destroyed first, I’ll start there.”  Slick said with a grin.

“My own personal renovator,” Joule purred, “I like the sound of that.”  They were silent for a few seconds, listening to the storm outside as Slick tightened her arms, drawing Joule closer.

“Ya know,” Joule whispered, “I’ve got you all to myself, and who knows when the others will be back.  I have some ideas,”

“Funny, said Slick, lips twitching in a smile that was lost to the darkness, “I do too.”

“Well then, pretty girl,” purred Joule, “I’m a captive audience.”  Her hands drifted lower, and Slick let out a surprised shout, feeling her face begin to heat as she drew the dynamite truck in for a deep kiss.  She’d get Joule back for that; Joule was always pretty when she could make the truck blush blue.

They broke apart, both breathing hard.  Joule was smiling, Slick could tell- another flash of lightning lit the space, closer than the others, illuminated the entire space in bright white light that left Slick blinking spots out of her vision.  Spots that, as they cleared from her optical sensors, turned out to be hiding a whole other issue.

“Wait, what-”  There, reflected in Joule’s silver plating, only visible because of how dark the room was and how close Slick was to her, was a faint yellow glow.

“Hmm?”

“Where is that light coming from?”  Joule looked down at where Slick was staring, and then back up at Slick.

“What light?”  Slick was still staring at that glow reflected in the plating, when she had a realization.  She raised a shaky hand to her face, and watched as the glow dimmed, its source suddenly covered.  Oh Starlight.  Oh Starlight, no .

“Oh, that,” said Joule dismissively, unconcerned, “I love seeing that glow, it means I’ve done my job.”  There was a self-satisfied tone to Joule’s words as she winked at her, but Slick was reeling too hard to register anything beyond that.

She had spent nearly two months here now, surrounded by Electra and their components.  Two months of learning their personal quirks, and the quirks that came with being an electric, the most damning of all here, on full display: Wrench had done it the other day when Joule had talked about her relationship, and Killerwatt did it when he had seen Electra at the gala.  She had done it to Joule several times- Joule had made it happen to her which made the realization even worse.

“Slick?”

Many- far too many- things were coming together with sickening clarity.

The fact that no one had ever told exactly how badly she had been hurt- how long she had been shut down.  How the concern when she had collapsed had immediately been about her repairs.  No.

Maybe even the fact that she had felt good, better than ever, having chalked it up to Wrench’s skill- but what if that hadn’t been it at all?  What if her parts had been swapped out for something newer- something different .

“Slick, are you in there?”

The flash she had seen in the mirror as she had kissed Joule.

The shutdown noise she had made when she had collapsed- she had thought that was her imagination but what if -

“ Mechanically she’s fine- the integration took- ”  Wrench had said that, when she had woken up, not knowing that she could hear.

“I’m not an electric. I am never going to be one of you.”   Her own words rang in her ears, the angry, terrified determination of her certainty.

“Keep telling yourself that.”  Electra, and how all of the others had reacted.  No, no, no.

And now this- for the absolute truth of the matter was that only electrics ever glowed when they blushed .

Holy shit.  Starlight above, she was electric .

Stars, she was stupid.  She was so stupid , and complacent, and every inch the dumb tanker everybody said she was.  How had she not seen this coming?  How had she not realized- of course there would be more .  The other skate had dropped, but it had done so a long time ago: she just hadn’t realized it until now.

Lightning flashed again outside, and at the roll of thunder the emergency lighting finally kicked on.  The hub was bathed in minimal red emergency lights that left long searching shadows anywhere, but Slick barely registered the change, too numb with horror to react.

“Slick, you’re scaring me,”  Joule approached her cautiously, and Slick had never moved so fast in her life .  She scrambled backwards, nearly falling over in her haste, one arm out in front of her as if that could protect her from all of the damage Joule had already done.

“Okay, I found Wrench- oh,” Volta, Wrench in tow, had skated back into the hub and stopped short at the sight before them, “should we come back later?”

“Speak for yourself,” said the repair truck with a snort, pushing past him.  She too however stopped when she saw the pair.

“When were you going to tell me?”  Slick yelled, the question directed at any of them, all of them.  Whoever could answer her question.

“Tell you what?” Volta asked.

“I’m- that I’m-“ she couldn’t get the words out right.

“That you’re electric,” said Joule, voice more solemn than Slick had ever heard it.  She looked afraid.  Good.  She should be.

“Shit,” Slick heard Wrench mutter, but paid it no mind.

“Was this it?” she spat at Joule, who stared back at her wide eyed.

“Slick-”

“The- the flirting, the jokes, everything- was it all about this?”  She pointed to her heated face, surely still glowing, “to see this and laugh at the fact I didn’t know?  To make fun of me?  Do you even like me?”  Joule’s eyes were wide, mouth opening to say something, but Slick wouldn’t hear it.

“No Slick, I swear-“

“ Stop lying to me .”  That stopped Joule short- she reeled back as if she had been slapped, which made Slick want to scoff.  Joule was not the victim here.

“What is going on here?”  Lightning flashed outside again as Electra skated in, their blue spikes the brightest thing in the room, Killerwatt on their heels.  Both stopped at the sight in front of them.

Slick inhaled sharply, straightening up.  To think that she had actually begun to get along with some of them, that one day despite everything they might have even been friends-

“Nothing,” she said, chest tight.

“Slick found out,” Wrench said, eyes narrowed and never leaving the - electric - tanker.

Silence.  Silence within the hub, as the rain poured down in sheets outside.  Electra looked at Wrench, then turned to look at her, the others following suit.

“I don’t understand,” they said, annoyed, “what’s the problem?  Consider it an upgrade.”  They seemed a little confused but largely just annoyed, as if she- her fucking make, her life - was little more than an inconvenience.  An upgrade.  How dare they.  She could kill them. If Killerwatt weren’t here, she might have tried.

“How could you do this?”  She all but screamed, eyes burning and voice breaking.

“Because there were no other options,” snapped Wrench, crossing her arms.

“Like I’m going to believe that,” Slick choked out.  She could feel tears running down her cheeks- how could they- “go to hell, Wrench.  All of you, go to hell!”  Momma had often cautioned her, saying that when you believed in a place like that, it was the worst curse imaginable, and right now Slick hoped with all her might that was true.

Oh Starlight, Momma… she would never forgive her for this.  The steamer had decried electricity for so long- what would she say?  What would she do ?

“Slick-“ Joule again, reaching out to touch her arm, and she jerked away as if she had been burned.

“Never- don’t ever touch me.”  Joule had lost that privilege.  How many times had she toyed with Slick, making her blush and leading her on?  From the start the dynamite truck had been determined- she should have known it was too good to be true.  Who would ever fall for a dumb little freight like her?

“Go to hell Joule,” she said softly, darkly.  She could speak no louder for fear of her voice giving into the sobs tearing at her throat, “I’ll see you there.”

She skated off, away from the others who called after her but did not follow her, and into the hallway towards her room- not Joule’s, never Joule’s again.  She had been so stupid - every bad thing anyone ever said freight was- she had fallen for Joule’s act, hook line and sinker.  

She reached her room finally- the door was able to be forced open and shut under her own power.  There were less lights in both the hallway and her room- clearly all lighting and available power was centered on the hub.  That was fine, she didn’t need the light anyways- apparently she fucking glowed now. In the faint red light of the bulb above the door, she collapsed on to her bed, all energy entirely gone, and curled into the smallest ball she could, in an attempt to protect herself from the others who had already hurt her.  It was then, and only then, that the little electric tanker finally allowed herself to cry.

Chapter Text

Three days.  It had been three days since she had found out: three days of hiding out in her room and three nights of struggling to sleep as she reckoned with her new existence.  An electric.  How dare they.

She had spent the first two days after the horrible realization hiding in her room, hurling pieces of her plating at the door whenever someone knocked.  It had been an effective deterrent, and she was willing to bet that everyone was busy enough with riding out the storm and restoring the compound’s power to be able to devote themselves to the problem of the newly-realized electric oil truck.  She was okay with that.  She didn’t want to see any of them.

But the morning of the third day, she had grown restless.  She hadn’t been locked in her room, and power had been restored sometime in the night- she was free to go where she pleased with no trouble.  So, she had waited until midmorning, when she was sure everyone would be busy and out of the way, and set off to find the gym.

That was where she was now, among the exercise equipment, attacking a punching bag with enough force that the entire apparatus it hung from shuddered as she hit it, over and over and over.  It was a good feeling, to begin to feel the burn in her shoulders, the ache in her hands.  Something should hurt now.  Her recovery- feeling better than she had in a long time- had been too good to be true.  It felt good, to have a physical reason to feel so awful.

She had been at it for some time, when she heard the door open, and the sound of skates approaching.  She ignored it, even when the sound stopped somewhere close by, and continued to attack the punching bag with as much vigor as she could.  It hurt and she was tired- good.

“Slick?”  She hit the bag again, and huffed.  She supposed she should have expected he would come to bother her sooner or later.

“Go away, Killerwatt.”

“I wanted to check on you.”  Ha.  Absolutely not.  Time to bring out the big guns and be left alone.

“Don’t you have an engine to mope over?  If you put out, maybe they’ll let you out of the doghouse,” she spat, and felt some sick satisfaction as he flinched.  Good.  She wanted this to hurt.

She turned her head slightly, just enough so he could see she was smiling as she drove her point home, “Take a page out of my book- they’ll at least find you good for something .”  She smirked, beating back memories of her time with Blue Lightning and Orange Flash to enjoy the hollow and poisonous victory her words won her.

His eyes were wide and he was no longer looking at her, instead staring down at the floor as he went very still.  Slick could only hope that this meant he would go away and leave her alone, too angry or upset to do whatever he was trying to do.  But no such luck.  Finally, he swallowed hard, and looked back up at her.

“You’ve been hitting that bag for over an hour,” he said instead, and Slick scoffed.  Back on track, of course he was.  What a good security truck.

“Spying on me again?  Fucking typical.”  She turned away and began to attack the bag with new vigor.

“I was wondering if you’d prefer to spar with a partner.”  That made her pause, and turn back to him.  Killerwatt was waiting patiently for an answer, hands clasped behind his back.  So patient, so earnest.  Stars, she wanted to hit him.  She wanted him to hit her as well.

“Why?” She spat, but this time he was ready for her ire.

“Wouldn’t it help?”

“Like how making me electric helped ?”  He did not rise to her barb, but she watched him shift slightly on his skates.  Now she really wanted to hit him.

“Fine.” She spat, turning away from the punching bag, that at this point had seen better days, “let’s spar.”  He nodded, and stepped onto the large mat close to the punching back, Slick following behind.  They faced each other, and Slick carefully scanned Killerwatt for any indication as to what he was planning.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, and she scowled at him.  Of course he was considerate now .  Killerwatt widened his stance slightly, but did not move to attack.  Her move then.

She lunged at him, as quickly as she could.  She had grappled with her brothers before, and chances were this would be no different.  She crashed into his torso, wrapping her arms around him.  He stumbled back with a grunt.  They struggled for a moment, until his leg hooked one of hers, and suddenly- wham !

She was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, the wind knocked out of her.  Killerwatt’s face appeared above her looking down with a concerned expression.  It infuriated her.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Fine,” she wheezed.  He offered her a hand, which she ignored, scrambling to her skates and reassuming her stance.

“Again.”

He sighed but nodded, and she lunged again.  This time she aimed a hit at his side, aiming for just below his ribs- the internals there were durable enough to withstand a hit but would hurt like anything- but found her arm blocked, her fist caught before it could connect.  

She aimed a kick at his knee, but was stopped by the sweep of his other hand, successfully knocking her off balance.  One hand found the space between her shoulder blades and the other pushed at her shoulder as he used the fact she was on skates against her, throwing her off balance and causing her skates to slip out from under her.  He guided her to the floor, only dropping her the last foot.

“Again.”

“Slick-“

“ Again. ” He sighed, but acquiesced.  She once again only managed a few moves (not hits, none of them made contact) before she found herself back on the ground again.  And again.

Each time, Killerwatt ended the fight almost as soon as it had begun, leaving her flat on the floor after a short grapple.  She would bet anything that this wasn’t his true style of sparring, simply the one he had adopted to spar with her.  Because it was similar to how freight fought.  Similar to how her brothers fought.

Her hits grew sloppier, though it didn’t matter much.  It wasn’t like any of them connected anyways.  Killerwatt skillfully redirected her momentum, carefully preventing her from ever hurting him- or herself.

The realization was what truly sent her over the edge, vision clouding with anger as she scrambled up again.  How dare he.  How dare he come in here, and talk her into sparring only to not make a single move beyond defend himself.

“Coward!”  She swung at him again, her fist being caught again.  Damn it. She tried to head butt him, only to be knocked back.  He was so careful as he knocked her off balance and brought her to the floor, and she burned with fury.  How dare he.

“Hit me!”  She staggered to her feet again, hardly able to see from the tears of rage clouding her vision, and threw herself at him again.  This time he caught her easily, holding her as she thrashed.  Skillfully, he folded her arms back towards her torso, his own arms encircling her in mimicry of a hug.

“Just hit me,” she sobbed, weakly hitting his chest as he lowered them both to the floor, “why won’t you hit me?”  Killerwatt said nothing, simply continued to hold her firmly within his arms as she exhausted herself.

This wasn’t at all what she wanted.  He hated her, she was angry with him- why wouldn’t he just fight her properly?  She understood pain- she wanted an excuse to feel this awful, and he wouldn’t give it to her.  She gave up on hitting him, sobbing into Killerwatt’s chest hysterically.  She didn’t know what she was saying anymore, nonsensical babbling as he held her firmly, arms not giving an inch.  

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice close to her ear.

“Fuck you,” she cried.  “You don’t get to be sorry now.”

Killerwatt didn’t respond to that, and she was grateful as she curled up in his arms, hating herself for this weakness.  He placed his chin atop of her head and did nothing else, waiting until her sobs pettered out into sniffles.  Hot, silent tears still dropped down her face as she stared dully at nothing, too drained to fight or yell any longer.

Slick lost time at some point- days of existing in a daze and an ill-fated fight would do that to you, she supposed.  When she became aware of her surroundings again, she found that they had moved to the corner of the gym, her head laying on Killerwatt’s thigh.  The security truck in question was sitting cross legged and watching the entrance to the room intently.  He had purposely chosen a spot that ensured a clear view of the entrance while also ensuring that they could not be snuck up upon.  The care that went into that action was almost touching, if Slick had the bandwidth and ability to be charitable.

Slick shifted to sit up, and his head cocked to track her movement.  She sat next to him, her back to the wall and her arms around her legs.

“Volta did the same thing for me,” Killerwatt said quietly, not looking at her, “let me tire myself out before I got hurt.”  She said nothing to that, and he turned towards her fully, eyes carefully scanning her and cataloging everything.  She wondered what he saw.

“How do you feel?”  He finally asked, and she sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know.”  She felt like she had been wrung out to dry, or in another race crash.  This was cathartic, but that didn’t make anything better.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Slick.”  He said, and she wished it was true.

“Too late.”

“I’m sor-“

“Please don’t.” She whispered, and he went silent.  They sat together in that corner, not speaking for some time.  Finally, she broke the silence.

“Why are you still here?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

“You aren’t more concerned about Joule?”  She tried to say it angrily, but didn’t have the energy.  It came out tired, small, and sad.  He fixed her with a knowing look that left her wondering what exactly he knew about her and Joule.

“Do you want to talk about Joule?”

“No.”  She said immediately.  Joule was the absolute last person she ever wanted to talk about.

“Alright.”  They sat together in silence for a little while longer.  This time, the silence was broken by Killerwatt.

“Joule is working late tonight.  If you need to get anything from her room, she won’t be there.”  Slick looked at him sharply.  She and Joule hadn’t hid the fact that she was sleeping in the dynamite truck’s room, per say.  She just hadn’t realized the security truck knew.

“Noted,” she said cautiously.

“Just in case.”

“Right.”

“No one will be there.”

“Thank you, Killerwatt,” she groaned, and realized from the slight smile he threw her way that he was purposely pushing her buttons.  Buttons that if they were literal would be electric.  Because she was electric.  

She stood up quickly, the quiet contemplation of the moment between them over.  He said nothing, only watched her from where he sat, hands on his knees.

“I’m going to go do that,” she said, and he nodded.  She turned to skate away, but was stopped by his voice.

“Let me know if you want to spar again.  We don’t have to talk about it.”

Slick nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and skated off towards Joule’s room.

It was still the middle of the workday, so she saw no one else in the halls.  Good.  She still felt frayed, and she didn’t think she could handle anyone actually trying to talk to her.

She made it to Joule’s room in record time, and glanced around to make sure no one would see her going in.  There were none, as expected.  With a deep breath, she triggered the door to slide open into the room.

She crept in cautiously, but true to Killerwatt’s word the room was empty.  Joule was out, working on explosives or something, who knew.  Who cared.  Either way, Slick wasn’t going to linger.  She didn’t want to be here, in this room that the dynamite truck had made her own.

Quickly, she rushed to the vanity and gathered up her makeup.  It was really the only stuff of hers in here anyway- the good part about that was that it would only take one trip to get everything out of here.  All of her spare under layers and pajamas were still in her room.  She had considered asking Joule about moving them in, but- well.  It didn’t matter now.

She chanced a look at herself in the mirror.  Same silver eyeshadow and brows and black lipstick.  No yellow to be seen- but that wasn’t quite true.  She had lights now, underneath her synthetic skin.  She would always glow yellow now.  The worst part was that had she found out all of this some other way, if circumstances had been so very different, it might have been a comfort, to know her color wasn’t completely gone.  Now it just felt like a joke.

Her eyes landed on the photos tucked into the edges of the mirror- specifically the one of all of them, when she had tackled Volta.  She had been so happy…

With trembling fingers, she reached forward and tore the photograph free, leaving behind a corner that was wedged too tightly into the frame.  Joule didn’t get to have this.  Not when it was all based on lies.

She breathed deeply, turning away from the vanity and giving the room a once over.  The garlands, the charms, the beaded flowers- all as she remembered, all as quintessentially Joule as they had ever been.  The thought made her throat ache.  Tearing her eyes away, she looked at the bed.

It looked as soft as ever, made up no doubt by Joule this morning.  Her four stuffed sheep were staring at Slick, and she absently ran her hand over the floppy one- Ms. Frosty, as she recalled.  She looked at all of them, struggling to remember their names- one was Buckle or Bolter or something, and another was definitely Clutch, and one might have been named Destruction, but she couldn’t remember.  Sue her, Joule had given her the entire history of the four.  

…She did not want to think about Joule right now.

She stared at the quarter a little longer, before the idea struck her.  She… she could be weak.  Just this once.  Her room was still empty, after all.  And the round one was the softest, and the best for cuddling.  And Joule had three others.  And Slick might have trouble sleeping again… yes.  She was going to take this one.  Whatever its name was.

She gathered up the sheep, along with her makeup and the picture she couldn’t bring herself to fully destroy, and headed out.  She didn’t know whether the lack of trains she saw on her way back to her room was luck or Killerwatt, but she knew better than to question it.  All she knew is that she could not stop, skating as quickly as she could until she was safely back in her room, where no one could bother her.

And there was no one to see when she hugged the sheep to her chest, breathing the scent of gunpowder and cinnamon in deeply, and pretending the sting in her eyes and nose was from the smell.

Chapter Text

Really, Slick probably should have expected this.  She had stolen something of which there were only four, of course Joule would notice right away one of them was missing.  She just hadn’t quite expected what Joule would do about it.

She was hiding in her room again, the morning after getting the rest of her things from Joule’s room and her impromptu kidnapping.  She had been lying on her bed, idly toying with the sheep’s wool, when suddenly, there was a knock on the door.  She froze, ears straining to confirm she wasn’t hearing things.

The knock sounded again, and Slick sprang into action, shoving the sheep under the bed.  She crossed the room and cautiously opened the door slightly, to find Killerwatt on the other side.  Uh oh.

She peered around, and was unsurprised to see Joule and Volta further down the hall, the former being held back by the latter.  Joule was staring at her, panicked.  That was not a good sign, and Slick tore her eyes away from the sight before her eyes started to burn at the sight of the dynamite truck.  The dynamite truck who had betrayed her, and messed with her head.  That fucking dynamite truck.

She turned her attention back to Killerwatt, the security truck still standing in front of her and watching her intensely.

“Slick.”  He said in greeting.

“Killerwatt.” She responded in kind, crossing her arms.  This could be about anything really, it didn’t have to be about the sheep.

“Killerwatt, be careful!” Joule hollered from down the hall, straining against Volta's hold, “she could have a seam ripper!”  Oh shit.  This was about the sheep.

She went to close the door but Killerwatt caught the edge, opening it enough for him to slip in before closing it behind him.  Now they were both in Slick’s room.  As an act of protest, she flopped down on her bed, doing her best to appear as nonchalant as possible.  Amazingly it seemed to be working, even under his scrutiny.

“Slick.”  He said again.

“Killerwatt.”  She replied again, just to be difficult.

“When you grabbed your stuff from Joule’s room, did you take one of her stuffed animals?”  Slick stared at him, unblinking. 

“What stuffed animals?”  He sighed.

“You know I can access the cameras, right?  If I do, am I gonna see you take it?”

“I guess you’re gonna have to check your cameras to find out,” Slick said, in an attempt to be as annoying as possible.  It seemed to be working- Killerwatt looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Fine,” he sighed, turning back towards the door, “but I’ll be back for Mr. Detonation as soon as I confirm you took him.”  With that, he headed out the door, leaving Slick reeling.  Slowly, she reached under the bed and pulled the sheep- Mr. Detonation- out, placing him on the bed.  The fluffy sheep stared at her, unblinking with its button eyes.  Slick was pretty sure it was mocking her.

Mr. Detonation? Out of all of them, Mr. Detonation ?  Of course she had picked the one named for Joule, of course that would be her luck.

She picked up the sheep, fully prepared to hurl him across the room, but stopped.  She couldn’t bring herself to do it.  She stared down at the little round sheep, who stared back up at her with black oil-slick eyes.

“-and Mr. Detonation, who is in a loving and committed relationship with Mr. Clutch.  They’ve been married for about two and a half years now, and they couldn’t wait for the ceremony because they were so in love, so they eloped instead.  Now, they go everywhere together!”

Joule had said all of this with a smile while Slick had listened raptly, slightly confused but endeared by the dynamite truck’s enthusiasm.  She had forgotten that specific detail.  Until now, confronted with Mr. Detonation again.

Fuck.  Fuck .  She sat down on the bed, hugging the sheep tightly.  It wasn’t fair .  Why did she care about a stupid sheep’s made up story?  It was cloth, and fluff, and hard button eyes.  That was all .

…And still, Joule loved it.  He was important to her.  All of them were.  Slick had never been the type of child to have stuffed animals (that was more Lumber’s territory, or maybe Hydra’s), but with Joule’s collection, she had almost understood the appeal.  And now she had stolen one of them, and Joule was panicking.

Good.  Let her.  Slick swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.  She was angry with Joule, she wanted to hurt her.  If only the thought of doing so didn’t make her feel sick to her stomach.  Fuck.

She lay down atop her bedspread, curling around Mr. Detonation.  He wasn’t a good substitute for Joule- or, just another person, it didn’t have to be Joule necessarily-, but he was better than nothing.

It was a while later that there was another knock on her door.  Killerwatt, again.  This time she stepped back to let him in with no fight, quickly retreating back to sit on her bed and hold Mr. Detonation tightly.

“I’ve come to parley.”  He said with a sigh, “What will it take to make you give back the sheep?”

“I’m not giving back the sheep.”  He stared at her a moment, and she stared back unblinking.

“Joule’s worried this is some revenge plot that ends with Mr. Detonation disemboweled.”  Slick snorted.

“I'm not gonna tear him apart, I only took him because-”  She cut herself off suddenly.  That was more than she had meant to say.  Unfortunately for her, Killerwatt was a good security truck, and had not missed her pause.  When the silence stretched on for too long, he pounced.

“Why did you take him?”

“No reason.”

“If it wasn’t to damage him, then why do it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  She looked down at Mr. Detonation, carding her fingers through his woolly curls.

“We can talk about what it will take to give Mr. Detonation back or we can talk about how you begged me to hit you yesterday.  The choice is yours.”  At Killerwatt’s words, her head jerked up.  He was staring at her still, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.  He knew he had backed her into a corner, and she knew there was one specific can of worms she did not want to open.

“The first one.”

“Sounds great.”  He said sarcastically, taking a seat opposite of her at her vanity, “So.”

“So.”

“What will it take to give Mr. Detonation back to Joule?”

“I… don’t know.”

“ Slick .”  He sounded exasperated, and she bristled.

“I don’t know!  I don’t want to give him back, he-“ she cut herself off again, and looked at him.  Killerwatt was still staring at her, waiting patiently for her answer.  

“I thought he would help me sleep.”  She finished lamely, and he nodded.  To his credit, there was a hint of sympathy in his gaze.

“You have every right to be mad at her.”

“I have every right to be mad at all of you .”  She hissed back, fingers white knuckling Mr. Detonation.  She wanted Killerwatt to go away , before he did anything else.  Just go away, and leave her to hold Mr. Detonation and wallow.  He looked down at his hands, breaking eye contact.

“You do.”  They fell into an uncomfortable silence, neither looking at the other.  Slick felt a little bad for that, especially since he had gone out of his way to try to help her yesterday, but she was right and they both knew it.

“How’s staying with Wrench?”  She asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Different.” He said, fidgeting slightly under the reversed scrutiny, “she stepped on me once.  She was trying to get some water.  Or so she said, I stayed asleep.”  Slick’s brow furrowed.  She didn’t know very much about security trucks, but that seemed… odd.

“I didn’t take you for a heavy sleeper.”

“No, I- you’re changing the subject,” he accused her, and she shrugged.  She was, but she had been curious.

“Not my fault you clearly wanted to talk about it,” Slick said in response, and this time it was his turn to glower.

“I could always just take Mr. Detonation,” he muttered, and she hugged the stuffed sheep closer.

“No.”

“You could talk to Joule, and ask if you could keep him for a bit-“

“ No .”

“ I could talk to Joule-”

“Killerwatt, just- let her know that I’m not going to do anything to him but I’m not giving him back.”  It was a weak request, but surprisingly he nodded.  It was possible he was simply fed up with both of them.  She couldn’t really blame him.  He had been presumably hired to protect Electra, and instead was spending his day chasing down a stuffed animal.  Ah well.  He could add hostage negotiation to his list of skills now.

Her suspicion was proven correct when next time he returned, he did not knock before skating in, fast enough that he nearly crashed into the wall had he not braked just in time.  She sat up as he entered, and he fixed her with an annoyed look, equal parts frustration and exasperation.

“You slept with her?”  Killerwatt asked, eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline.  Slick floundered.  This was something she hadn’t prepared for.

“Wha- You were supposed to talk about sheep!  How did that come up?”  Killerwatt did not respond, instead rolling his eyes and starting forward.  Before Slick had a chance to react, he had picked up Mr. Detonation in one hand and slung her over his shoulder with the other.

“Hey!”

“Nope.  I did my best.”  Despite her kicking (and squirming, and hitting), she could not get free.  Stupid security truck who was good at his job.

“Put me down!” She hollered as they skated through the hall.  She twisted in his grip to pull his hair but all he did in response was pinch her thigh.  

“Asshole!  Put me down!”  She kicked him again, relishing in the clang of her skate against his metal plating.  Served him right.

“ No .  I am not your divorce lawyer!”  Was that what he thought was happening?  Because that was so not fair.

“What the fuck , Killerwatt-”  But she was cut off at his sudden stop in the central hub and his subsequent deposit of her and Mr. Detonation in front of a shocked Joule.  They both looked at each other for a moment, shock mirrored on both of their faces, and then slowly turned to look back at the fed-up security truck, who was skating backwards and away from them.

“You are both adults, figure it out.”  He gave an exasperated huff, then turned completely away, to skate off.  “I need to go talk to someone normal for a while,” was the last thing Slick heard before he disappeared from sight.

“None of your options qualify!”  Slick yelled sarcastically after him, and was rewarded with a snort from Joule.  She turned sharply to look up at Joule, who had frozen and was staring at her wide eyes.  They simply stared at each other for a moment, frozen.  Slick wondered what Joule saw when she looked at her.  The stupid little tanker she had tricked?  The electric who couldn’t figure that out?  The thoughts made something in her chest burn.  She wanted to curl up with Joule again like nothing was wrong.  She wanted to tell stupid jokes that made Joule laugh, and hear Joule talk about her sheep.  But she couldn’t.  That ship had sailed, and it was over.

“Slick-“  Joule started timidly, and the sound of her voice snapped Slick out of it.

“No,” Slick scrambled up, nearly tripping over her skates in her haste.  Joule made an aborted motion, almost as if she were going to reach out to help Slick steady, but thought better of it.  Good.

“Slick, please, just-”

“ No, ”  Slick snapped, turning away from the dynamite truck, “Just take your stupid sheep and leave me alone.”  She skated away, as fast as she could and as far away from Joule as possible.

That was the end of it.  Joule got her sheep back, and Slick was left to hide in her room again.  That was it.  Or it should have been.

That evening, Slick was in her room again, left blissfully alone after the excitement of the day, when unexpectedly there was a knock on her door.   She tensed, awaiting another, but heard none, and she cautiously skated to the door, opening it slowly and peering down the hall.  It was empty.  She went to close her door, but something on the ground caught her eye, and she opened the door a little wider.  There, on the ground, were two stuffed sheep: one round once, and one that bore a resemblance to a loaf.  Mr. Clutch and Mr. Detonation.   She swallowed.  They like to go everywhere together.

That night, she would lie to herself and say she didn’t care.  She would tell herself they were just stuffed sheep, utterly unspecial in every way.  But she would still hold both of them close, and still sleep soundly because of them.

But for now, she slowly reached down and gathered both of them into her arms.  Then, she shut the door, and tried not to think about how the couple had come into her care.

Chapter Text

It was Wrench, out of the others, who ended up seeking her out.  Slick was in the library, pouring over Electronics for Dummies in an attempt to learn more about her inner workings- she was an idiot for waiting so long to start.  So far, however, the book had been less than helpful: she knew that AC and DC stood for alternating and direct current, but that was about it.  So, when Wrench skated in, holding a large yellow binder, it was almost a welcome distraction.  Almost.

The repair truck looked like she was on a mission, and though Slick tried to ignore her in favor of learning how a multimeter worked, she was not to be deterred and dropped the binder and her folders down on the table between them, taking a seat next to Slick.  Slick steadfastly ignored her, the two sitting in silence, until Wrench finally spoke up.

“I want to talk to you,” the repair truck began, as direct as ever.

“I figured,” said Slick, not looking up from her book.  Maybe she’d get lucky and Wrench would take the hint.

“I’m not here to apologize.”  Or maybe not.  Also, what ?  That caused her to look up and glare at Wrench.

“You turned me into an electric.  I think the first step here would be groveling for my forgiveness.”  Slick would appreciate some groveling right about now too.  It wouldn’t make her feel better, per say, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it.

“I’m not going to grovel,” said the repair truck evenly.

“Then I think we’re done here.”  Slick made to slam her book closed and leave, but was stopped by a hand on her wrist.

“I figured you would be curious about what exactly happened with your repairs,” Wrench began, and Slick froze, attention fully on the repair truck.

“Keep talking,” she gritted out, and Wrench pulled back, opening the binder before her to a page of notes.  Slick sighed and settled in.  This better be worth it.

“Joule brought you in while you were in stasis, and Electra ordered me to fix you up.”  Wrench began, “It was a two part reasoning: one, because they were angry and looking for someone to blame, and two, because you were their responsibility.”  Slick scoffed at that last part.

“The fuck I was.”

“You were.”  Wrench said firmly.  “Should any truck or coach become injured during a race, the engine they raced with will pay for the repairs needed.”  Slick nodded slowly at that.  She remembered hearing that, once upon a time, but none of the engines in her yard had ever actually done it when she had been injured in her races with them, so she figured it was a rule that simply wasn’t enforced.

“Why didn’t Joule tell me that when she found me?”  She asked, and Wrench shrugged.

“I wasn’t there.  You probably have a better idea than I do.”  Slick remembered the confusion of the aftermath of the crash, and being figuratively cornered by Joule.  Joule had been playing with her then, she knew.  Like she had this entire time.  

Wrench waited a moment as Slick thought.  When it became clear the tanker wasn’t going to speak again, she continued.

“So, we left the yard the next day, and came back here, where I started fixing you up.  The problem was, I had to power you down completely before we left to prevent further damage from your passive systems- the damage I could see was that bad.”

Slick nodded slowly.  Powering a train down was akin to a coma or something similar- like a deep sleep where the train was completely shut off.   The biggest issue was that Wrench referred to it as a ‘problem’.

“And then I opened you up in my repair shop and saw the extent of the damage.

“Your pump wasn’t just damaged: it was punctured, irreparably.  Your motor was in such bad shape that it wouldn’t reach a readable RPM.  Your tank was mangled to the point it was unrecognizable.  I don’t know how you managed to stay out of stasis long enough to get away from the crash site and hide, because you should have powered off- not entered stasis, but shut down completely- way sooner.”

Slick was staring down at her hands, her vision blurring with hot tears as Wrench spoke.  A punctured pump.  A broken motor.  Her tank , mangled beyond recognition.  She had known her injuries had been bad.  She didn’t know they had been this bad.  She thought back to how she had barely been able to move when Joule found her, leaking onto the cement below.

“And so I swapped the damaged parts, and fixed what I could.  I did have to replace your motor and pump with electric models-“ Slick was suddenly reminded of Wrench’s words the night they had gone drinking, -I’d hate to replace another pump.  Wrench had referred to her. “-they were all I had on hand.  But once you had powered down, I couldn’t get you to turn back on.  You- well.”  Wrench paused, mouth twisting uncomfortably, seemingly at a loss for words for the first time since Slick had known her.

“Just say it,” she whispered.  No matter what, she had to know.

“Your existing circuitry was the wrong gauge- it couldn’t handle the power surge required to start you back up.  It shorted and melted when I tried.”  Slick could only listen to Wrench, frozen.  She- oh.  Oh.  That was the sort of thing that trains got scrapped for.  She knew it, and judging from Wrench’s face, the repair truck was well aware of this fact.  Slick swallowed hard.

“And I mean the regular amount of voltage required for any freight to power back up, Slick.  Have you ever been powered down before?”

“No,” she whispered numbly.  Most trains never would- it was only necessary for the absolute worst, most invasive repairs.  Which she had qualified for.  Because the crash had been that bad.

“I figured.  It would have become apparent earlier if you had.” 

“By apparent, you mean I would have been scrapped.”  Slick said numbly.  She could feel heat gathering in her eyes and sliding down her cheeks, leaving tacky trails on her skin.  Wrench nodded, to her credit appearing equal parts uncomfortable and sympathetic at the thought of Slick's mortality.

“It’s not common, but sometimes the gauge type can shift as a train grows.  Any fix would be expensive- far beyond the cost of normal repairs.  And I didn’t have any of the materials needed to do it.”

“So you shifted to a full conversion.”  Slick whispered, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Wrench nod.

“I added subdermal heating exports- the lights in your face.  Rewired everything in a safer way, with higher-quality copper, and added sites for electrical discharge on the pads of your fingers and soles of your feet. I added an internal computer too- it records data from your systems for operating efficiency."  As she spoke, Wrench flipped the binder to a page that upon further examination was full of her operation notes.  

“In total, you were powered down completely for twenty-seven days.”

Twenty-seven days.  That was almost a full month .   No wonder Killerwatt had only told her she was shut down for longer than three days and not elaborated.  No wonder she had thought the uniform she had been given was a quick turnaround: because it wasn’t.  Wrench hadn’t machined shoulder pieces so quickly, as she remembered thinking.  She had twenty-seven days to do so.  Twenty-seven days the electrics had to plan, to make sure Slick disappeared from her yard with no fuss.  Twenty-seven days that Wrench had worked to put her back together.  In total, it had been three months since she had been to her yard.  Three months since she had seen her brothers.  Since she had seen Momma.

“My mother hates me,” she said quietly.  

“ Weird segue,” Wrench said, shifting slightly to look at her properly, “You haven’t spoken to her in months, she doesn’t hate you.”  If only that were true, Slick thought wryly.  But she had seen Momma’s face.

“No, just- between this and what I did to Rusty, she’s got plenty of reasons to.”  That was something that scared Slick more than anything.  Momma would always be her mother, but after everything Slick wasn’t sure if Momma would still want a daughter.  Especially an electric one.

“You mean the fact that you’re electric.”  Wrench’s tone wasn’t judgmental, simply inquisitive.

“Diesel is for unbelievers, and electricity is wrong.”  Slick recited dutifully.  Momma had said it often enough, though it had never failed to sting.  Slick carried oil, for star's sake.  She was integral to the operation of the things her mother hated.  And now, she was the thing Momma hated.  The thought made her chest feel tight.

“Your mother is wrong.” Wrench said bluntly.  Slick’s head snapped towards her, bristling on her mothers behalf despite what it meant for Momma to be right, but the repair truck was unswayed.  “I was diesel-powered, before.  I planned my conversion myself.  But I’m still the same truck I was.”

Slick took a hard look at Wrench as the repair truck finished speaking, and wondered what the truck had looked like before her conversion.  She remembered the picture of all of the components from Joule’s room- Wrench had had red and black hair, with curls atop her head.  But she had worn the same expression Slick had seen many times: a small determined smile that said she took pride in her work and had faith in her abilities.  Slick didn’t know if Wrench was electric or diesel powered in the picture.  She supposed it didn’t matter.  The realization helped, a little.

“Why did you convert?”  She asked, curious as to why the repair truck had chosen what she herself had been forced into.

“Electra wanted electric components, and I wanted to work for Electra.  That, and they footed the bill.”

“Rich fucker.”  Slick grumbled, almost smiling despite herself.  Wrench gave a small jerk of her head, and a small surprised smile of her own.

“Oh yeah.”  They sat a moment quietly together, and Slick was surprised to find it… almost nice.  Wrench wasn’t pushing her for forgiveness, just laying the facts out.  Slick could work with that.  But there was one incredibly important detail Wrench hadn’t mentioned.

“Why didn’t you tell me this when I woke up?”  She turned to look at Wrench, who was tracing the wood grain with her fingers, “Why keep it a secret?”  For the first time since starting the conversation, Wrench looked guilty.

“I was angry.  I… I told the others not to tell you.  I thought you would figure it out eventually- it’s not like the signs were subtle.”  Slick stared at her.  She supposed that Wrench was sort of right- she had felt different, better, in a way she had chalked up to Wrench’s repair skills (and in hindsight she was still sort of correct).  And, ya know, she glowed now.  But still .

“That is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard.”  She said flatly, and Wrench looked down, mouth twisted, “even with those changes, why the fuck would I assume I was electric now?  That makes no sense!”  Her voice had raised as she spoke, and the repair truck’s head whipped towards her, tensed and poised to strike.

“I didn’t care if it made sense,” exploded Wrench, “I cared about hurting you!”  

Silence fell at Wrench’s words as Slick glared at her.  It didn’t even feel good to get confirmation of that fact- none of this was news to either of them.  Wrench didn’t seem to be able to look at her either, determinedly glaring at the table.  Finally she spoke again, in a quiet and low tone that still easily reached Slick’s ears.

“And I’m sorry I did.”  

Now that was surprising.  In all the time Slick had known her, she didn’t think she had heard Wrench apologize once.  Wrench liked to be right, and generally was.  She said nothing, waiting to see if the repair truck would say more.

“I didn’t convert you to punish you, and I don't regret doing it.  But I didn’t-” Wrench sighed, and from where Slick was seated she could see Wrench’s face was a mixture of anger, guilt, and frustration- and oddly enough, none of it at her.  When the repair truck next spoke, it seemed to have been done with great difficulty.  “I didn’t expect my opinion of you to change so drastically.”

“You mean you like me now,” Slick returned sarcastically.

“I mean I care .”  Wrench said, finally looking at her properly, and the look on her face stopped Slick short.  The repair truck's face was full of determination and guilt, a strange combination.

“I converted you because you wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t.”  Wrench said, still fixing her with that stare, “But I didn’t tell you what had happened because I did want to hurt you, and I knew that you figuring it out on your own was the worst thing I could do.  And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”  

The look on Wrench’s face was intense, and Slick found herself turning away, unable to continue looking at the repair truck.  

“I thought you said you weren’t here to apologize.”  She said, staring at the table again.  Her eyes were hot again, and this time she didn’t bother to fight the feeling of tears gathering.  Wrench didn’t say anything to that for a moment, and then sighed.

“I was wrong.”  Wrench said quietly, and did not say anything else.  Slick nodded at that, not looking at her.  She hadn’t expected Wrench’s candor.  Her eyes traveled to the binder- detailing everything that had happened while she was powered down.  Everything that Wrench had deemed necessary.  Everything that had been kept from her.

“I’d like you to leave now.”  Slick said, still staring at the binder.  She heard rather than saw Wrench shift, and get up, circling the table towards the door.  Before the repair truck left however, the sound of wheels paused.

“Let me know if you have any questions.”  With that, Wrench left, the door closing behind her.  Slick was still for a moment, no sound within the library except the whirring of her fans and the feeling of tears trickling down her cheeks.  Finally, she straightened up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, and slid the binder towards her.  She flipped it to the first page, and began to read.

Chapter Text

Volta was the last one to approach Slick, a few days after Wrench had laid out the facts of the matter.  The freezer truck had kept his distance so far, seemingly spending most of his time with Joule.  Every time she had seen him, it had been either as she entered a room he would vacate, giving her her space with little more than a nod, something she was secretly grateful for.

She was sitting in the central hub for the first time since finding out she was electric, having found an old diesel vs. electric chess set and needing space to play.  It was an interesting game: the engine and a repair truck as a king and queen, freight trucks in the place of bishops and knights, fuel trucks in the place of rooks, and coaches of all different types as the pawns.  It was beautifully made and ornately detailed, and she had spent as much time admiring the pieces as she had playing against herself.  Until, that is the interruption of a certain freezer truck.

“Hi Slick.”  He sounded uncharacteristically nervous, and she placed her captured piece- a battery truck, by the looks of it- to the side before looking up at him with a scowl.  He was nervous, shifting back and forth on his skates and clutching a lumpy pile of fabric in his arms.  It was weird, to see the normally confident freezer truck so cautious in his actions.  She was mad at him, but she still didn’t like it.  

“What do you want?”  She asked, and he took it as permission to skate forward, closer to her with… whatever was in his hands.

“I have something for you,” he said, holding out a lumpy bundle to her.  Slick took it cautiously, unfolding it so that it spilled across her lap and she could properly see what it was.

It was a quilt.  A nice one too, full of a torrent of colors: reds and yellows, oranges and blues and purples, with different fabric squares in different designs.  With a start, she realized that the colors and patterns came together to form the image of a sunset on the water.  She thought back to that first morning in Joule’s room, and how Joule had compared her makeup to a sunset.  She swallowed.  She had forgotten that until now, but evidently Volta hadn’t.

“Is- is this a bribe to get back into my good graces?”  She asked suspiciously, and he shrugged.

“If it was, would it work?”  She hesitated, considering.  For most people, it would be an automatic no.  Fortunately for Volta however, she was not most people.  She had bribed others countless times, she’d absolutely be willing to entertain being bribed now.  Plus, it was a nice quilt.

“…Maybe.”  Volta immediately brightened, and sat down next to her.  She made a face at him, but he only grabbed the quilt, throwing it over her head.  In the dark of the quilt she gave a startled smile, but remembered herself after a moment.

“I only said ‘maybe’!” She hollered, waving her arms to find the edge of the blanket.

“Yes, but that’s better than no.  I'll work on it.”  She heard him say as she finally managed to pull the quilt off of herself.

“I changed my mind.  I don’t want it.”  She said, wrinkling her nose.  Her actions betrayed her, however: she still held onto the quilt tightly.  Volta looked at her hands and nodded sarcastically.

“No takebacks!” He said with a snort, “my gifts don’t come with receipts.”

“Dick.”  She said quietly, running her finger over the stitching.  He said nothing to that, pulling one leg up on the couch and idly spinning a wheel with a finger.  They sat like that for a moment, her tracing the shapes of the fabric in the quilt, him fiddling with his skates, until finally Volta broke the silence.

“I wanted to talk to you.”  Volta said suddenly, eyes still on his wheels.  Slick's first instinct was to say no, absolutely not, but then she looked down at the quilt again.  Like a sunset.  Fuck.

“The quilt bought you ten minutes.”  She muttered, and Volta’s head turned sharply towards her.  Unfortunately for Volta, it was at that moment they were joined by Electra, trailed by a miserable looking Killerwatt, Wrench, and Joule.

Joule looked… well.  There wasn’t really a better way to say it- she looked bad.  Her skin had taken on a slightly grey quality, and there were dark circles under her eyes.  She looked like how Slick had felt, back when she wasn’t sleeping, and though Slick should have felt more vindicated at the sight, she realized all she really felt was an upsetting ache.  She had done that to Joule, and she didn’t like it.  She wanted to like it, but she couldn’t.  Instead, all she felt was sick.

She compromised with her hurt by tearing her eyes away from the dynamite truck, determined to ignore her completely.  She was still angry with her, even if Slick was beginning to feel slightly bad over the whole thing.  Only slightly though, she cautioned herself as she saw Joule out of the corner of her eye take a seat as far away from herself and Volta as she could.

“Hold that thought,” muttered Volta.  Addressing the room at large, he said, “hello, literally everyone.  I’m trying to suck up here, can we do whatever this is later?”  Electra raised their eyebrows slightly.

“Would you like your paycheck later, then?”  They asked with faint amusement, and Slick watched as Wrench, Killerwatt, and Joule looked at them in confusion.  Slick sighed.  This didn’t concern her.

“Obviously not,” Volta said with a snort, “but those are electronic.  You set that up.”  Electra nodded, but passed out envelopes to each of them, Slick included.  She took hers with no small amount of surprise, which was weirdly matched with the others.

“Not this time,” they said, and Slick opened hers after staring at them suspiciously.  Seeing nothing that set off a flag, she cautiously opened the envelope, and pulled out a check.

That… that couldn’t be right.  This was more money than she had ever had.  This was more money than she had ever seen.  She hadn’t actually expected to be paid during her kidnapping, but eventually she was wrong.  Surprisingly wrong.  Expensively wrong.  She gripped the check tightly and looked up again, afraid that it might be a joke and that it was going to be taken from her.

“Uh…” Volta was looking at his with no small amount of confusion, the expression mirrored on the others faces.  Wrench was staring at the paper she held with a deep frown, while Joule blinked at hers.  Killerwatt was gripping the paper he held so tightly it was beginning to fold into itself.

“Electra,” said Joule slowly, “I don’t think the numbers on this are… right?  This is more than it should be.  Like, way more.”  Wrench was nodding, still looking at her paper, as Volta looked up at Electra with confusion.

“A token of my appreciation,” the engine replied, waving the question away.  Though Electra seemed nonchalant about the whole thing, none of them missed how Killerwatt was looking up from his paper to Electra and back down again with an upset expression on his face.  

“Appreciation for what?” Wrench asked slowly, slightly suspiciously.

“For… being here?”  Electra responded, their voice lilting up at the end in a way Slick suspected was unintentional.

“But I thought-“ Killerwatt cut himself off quickly, as if he had spoken without meaning to, then turned and sped out of the room, leaving his check behind.  Wrench rolled over to the abandoned paper, reading the number on it.  Her eyebrows rose sharply, and when she looked back up at Electra, it was with an expression of pure, unbridled fury.

“Let me get this straight,” said Wrench, in a tone that immediately had Slick tensing and exchanging a glance with Volta, “You kick Killerwatt out of your room- which, after this long might as well be his room as well, with no regard for his feelings on the matter.”  Joule winced, and Slick watched as Electra drew themself up to their full height, tensing at Wrench’s words.

“Wrench-” they began, but Wrench would not be stopped.

 “You refuse to tell any of us what’s wrong,” the repair truck continued, eyes narrowing, “and go out of your way to not socialize with anyone, choosing instead to hide in your- and Killerwatt’s- room.  And now,” here she brandished her own check, along with Killerwatt’s, “you give us asinine raises- for what? Why?  If I didn’t know better, at this point I’d assume you hate all of us, because clearly you don’t want to spend time with us any more!”  Wrench was yelling by the end of her dressing down, and it occurred to Slick that she hadn’t really seen angry yet.  Now she had, and it was a force to be reckoned with.  Electra looked similarly shocked, shifting on their wheels slightly as she finished.

“No, I- I do like you- all of you,” they stammered, “of course I do-”

“Killerwatt is in tears because of you,” snarled Wrench, and Electra reeled back as if slapped, “He’s been sleeping on my floor and shutting himself off every night because of it.  I can’t have any conversation with you that’s not about work because you suddenly find every excuse under the sun to run away.  Joule has been upset for days now and I’ll bet you don't even know why, if you’ve even noticed-”  Slick watched Joule shrink into herself as Wrench spoke “-and Slick- you don’t even get why she’s upset with all of us!  You can’t just- just throw money at us and expect us to be okay with that!”

Slick wanted to say that she was okay with having money thrown at her, actually, but the thought of actually saying that died when she looked at Electra.  They looked shattered, eyes darting between the four of their employees still present.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” they finally stammered out, looking confused and hurt in equal measure, “I didn’t mean- I thought-“ Slick could feel a force pulling on her wheels, and she felt Volta grab her arm to keep her seated in place as Wrench and Joule both dug their toe stops into the ground.  Their electromagnetism, seemingly beyond their control.

“It’s pretty clear you didn’t think,” said Wrench, and something in her tone had changed.  She still looked angry, but now upset too.  Clearly this affected her more than she wanted to admit.  “Unless that’s all we are now?  Employees to pay off?”  The words were spat at them, and they seemed to shrink into themselves, no longer looking quite so towering or impressive.  Though she was still angry at them, all Slick could feel for them was pity.

Electra did not respond to Wrench’s accusation, even as the silence stretched from mildly uncomfortable to excruciating.  Finally, after opening and closing their mouth several times but not managing to muster any words, they turned and skated away, down one of the halls.  Their electromagnetism slowly faded as they skated away with a speed Slick had not seen since they had raced.

“Coward!” Wrench yelled after them, her voice breaking on the second syllable.  She looked shaken, her face glowing purple-blue as she stared after the electric engine.  She was breathing hard, and shaking so hard it was visible from where Slick sat.

For a moment, none of them spoke.  Volta was tensed next to Slick, his eyes flicking between Wrench and Joule.  While Wrench was standing and staring, Joule was slumped over slightly and not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Wrench-“ Began Volta uneasily, but stopped as Wrench turned away.

“I’m going to find Killerwatt,” she muttered, skating down the hall they had all seen Killerwatt vanish into earlier.  No one stopped her.

It was just the three of them now in the hub, and Slick found herself curling up with her new blanket in the ensuing miserable silence.

“Slick?“ Joule tried timidly, and Slick curled up tighter. 

“No.” She said, trying to seem firm but more likely than not coming across as desperate in her plea for Joule to not speak to her.  There was no response to that, and Slick refused to look at a Joule to see her reaction.  The dynamite truck already looked so miserable, and she had done that.  The thought made her feel sicker than it should, and she swallowed hard.  Joule deserved this.  She did.

“I’ll go check on Electra,” Joule said softly, and Slick heard her skates begin to roll on the floor, growing further and further away, until she couldn’t hear them anymore.  She raised her eyes slowly to confirm what she already knew.  Once again, it was only her and Volta in the hub, the freezer truck staring into space, kneading his thigh with one hand and slowly clenching and unclenching the other hand.

“Are you alright?”  She asked quietly, shifting slightly towards him.  Volta blinked, turning towards her.  He nodded a little jerkily, eyes roving until they landed on her.

“I have ten minutes,” he said, and Slick frowned in confusion until she remembered what he was talking about.

“Volta, I appreciate the bribe but we can talk later if you want-”

“No!”  He cut her off, shaking his head, “No.  Now, please.”  That stopped Slick.  Volta never really said please.  He was evidently shaken from what had just occurred (and if she was being honest, she was as well)- she could humor him.

“...Okay.”  She said slowly, and Volta nodded, still clenching and unclenching his fist.  Slowly, Slick put a hand on his arm, and he stiffened, and relaxed, looking over at her.

“Wrench said she talked to you.”  He began, still slightly stilted, and she rolled her eyes despite her resolve to humor him.

“Are you all just gossiping about me behind my back?” Slick sneered, but couldn’t manage the proper amount of bite.  "That's pretty pathetic, even for you.”  Shockingly, Volta did not rise to the bait.

“We’re talking about Joule too,” he said evenly, and she froze, motionless where she had been idly running her fingers over the patches in the quilt before.  Joule.  Of course they were.

“Oh?” She finally managed through gritted teeth.

“How you’re disproportionately angry with her.”

“There is nothing disproportionate about it,” Slick said, feeling the familiar but tired anger be stoked into a roar yet again, “I hate her.”  She did.

“You’re angrier at her than you are at Wrench, and she’s the one who made the call to make you electric.”  That was… a fair and upsetting point, and she bristled slightly, withdrawing her hand from Volta’s arm and hugging herself.

“Yeah, well, Wrench isn’t the one who I-“ she cut herself off abruptly, kicking herself.  She didn’t want anyone to know exactly why she was so angry with Joule, why she wouldn’t entertain even the slightest amount of conversation from her.  She could hear Wrench out- the repair truck hadn’t made it any secret how she felt about the tanker, and where exactly Slick stood with her.  But Joule had.  She must have.

To Volta’s credit, he looked sympathetic.  Slick didn’t know what she had been about to say- she didn’t know what he thought she was about to say- but clearly she had gotten her point across.  She looked away from him, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I don’t care if I’m being unfair.  She deserves it.”  She said, trying to mask her hurt.  Judging by how Volta’s face remained unchanged, she was entirely unsuccessful.

“And the rest of us don’t?”  he asked, cocking his head.  Slick thought about Joule: how she had tried to make Slick comfortable in the compound, how she had been cognizant of Slick’s fears of only ever being seen as a dumb tanker, how she had been so worried about Slick collapsing.  How she had told Slick to her face that she loved making Slick blush that glowing electric yellow, how she had deliberately omitted any mention of how long Slick had been unconscious or that she had been irrevocably changed.  How she had kidnapped Slick at the beginning of all this, and it was directly due to her that Slick was miles away from her family, entirely different from what she once had been.

“I don’t know,” Slick finally muttered, and Volta had no response to that.  He got up from his seat beside her, and moved to the other side of the table, sitting down to face her properly.  Silently, he reached for the chess board in front of them and reset it, until the shiny, delicate rows of trains faced each other.  He handed one of the final pieces to be placed to her- an oil tanker.  She placed it on the board: a complete set, waiting to be played, and looked up at Volta.

“Your move.”

Chapter Text

Generally, Wrench liked working for Electra.  The work was interesting, and she was lucky enough to consider her coworkers and employer her friends.  Or, she had.  

Now, all she had was a despondent group of people in varying states of mortal peril.  It was a difficult place to be- Wrench prided herself on being able to fix things, but as she had been forcefully reminded time and time again, there were limits to what one person could do.  She couldn't fix this.

She couldn’t fix Electra’s distance from all of them, or Killerwatt’s clear heartbreak over them.  She couldn’t fix Volta’s anxious avoidance of the minefield in which they all occupied.  She couldn’t fix Joule’s despondent mechanical slink from task to task, or any of Slick’s- well.  Slick, who used to rank somewhere below a household pet in terms of how much Wrench valued her, but had (despite Wrench’s best efforts) slowly become someone she didn’t mind having around.  She couldn’t fix anything about any of it for her.

Wrench had spent her morning in her workshop- not hiding out, not at all.  She was simply reorganizing absolutely everything she could in an effort to waste time and avoid everyone else.  She hadn’t meant to lose her composure so completely.  But then Electra had decided to give them all raises with no true explanation, and once she had seen just how much Electra had decided to give Killerwatt, she had seen red.   

It had been her, not Electra, who had dealt with his doubt, who had reassured him that nothing he had done would warrant Electra’s cold shoulder.  It had been she who had set up a cot in her room, despite Killerwatt’s (half-hearted) protests that he was fine and could return to his own room.  And now they had decided that all Killerwatt was to them- all any of them were to them- was money?  And a staggering, upsetting amount of it- a sum that contradicted their actions thus far.

Killerwatt was a mess after, when she had found him in his office, staring blankly at the computer screens that cycled through his camera set up.  He was undoubtedly aware of her approach as she skated towards him, but had not moved as she did, only turning to look at her when she had laid a hand on his shoulder.  It was only then, the security truck staring helplessly up at her, that she had realized he was crying: a consistent sheen of coolant spilling from his eyes.

“Killerwatt,” she had said quietly, and nothing more.  What could she say to something like this?

“I don’t understand,” he had said quietly, his voice too choked with tears to speak any louder, “why are they doing this?”  He had tried to turn back to his screens, but Wrench had drawn him into a hug instead, feeling his hitched breathing against her side.

“I don’t know,” she had said, wishing that there was any answer she could give, “but it’s not your fault.  You haven’t done anything wrong.”  And she knew she was right.  What had Killerwatt ever done, besides have an unfortunate condition of being in love with his boss?  Electra had always appreciated how attentive he was, how good he was at his job- Killerwatt was clearly their favorite, as much as they valued all of them.  Electra loved Killerwatt too.  Still did, clearly.  So what were they doing?  Why were they doing this to him- to all of them?

And…  as angry as she was, she missed Electra.  Missed her friend.  Missed being able to simply talk to them, to discuss racing strategy and play games with them, to ask the question of hey, what do you think would happen if…  in her repair shop and get to find out an answer.  They were the only one who enjoyed experiments as much as she did.  What she wouldn’t give to get to do that with them again.

It was these thoughts that dominated her mind as she left the shop, intending to make a quick getaway back to her room.  Wrench could readily admit that being upset and hiding away would solve nothing, but could also recognize that sometimes a little wallowing would ultimately be better in the long run.  She could spend a little time feeling terrible about literally everything before continuing on.  It was a good plan.  Wrench liked this plan.

She finally reached her room, opening the door to… Killerwatt.  Killerwatt, still fast asleep on his cot, straight-backed and arms at his sides.  Odd, she thought, feeling slight prickles of something she didn't want to name as she looked down at him.  Normally he would be up by now, going to trail after Electra (who didn’t deserve his devotion, no matter what Killerwatt said in their defense) with that heartbroken, kicked-puppy expression of his.  But it had been a rough day yesterday.  Maybe this shouldn’t be surprising.

 He had been shutting himself down at night in an effort to rest- he had not been sleeping since Electra had asked him to leave, something she had her suspicions about and he refused to examine.  It wasn’t something she would recommend, and it might be detrimental to his health in the long run, but he had begged her for help in doing it, and she had told him yes- but only for a little while.  Normally, he would have had an internal timer running, to force a start up after an allotted amount of time shut down.  But today, something was different.

“Killerwatt.”  She said quietly, knowing it would wake him.  Even in a shut down, his proximity alert system would be activated upon a certain decibel of volume near him, or a certain amount of motion in close quarters.  But the security truck remained motionless- no lights flickered beneath his skin, no fans began to run upon her approach, and his eyes remained firmly shut.

“Killerwatt,” she said again, slowly reaching out.  Her hand touched his shoulder- the final confirmation something was indeed wrong.  Killerwatt should have caught her hand, should have looked over confusedly at her and asked what the matter was, and he had not.  He remained motionless, little more than a shell of metal and machinery without a spark.  Wrench felt along the back of his neck, searching for the sequence of points on his spine that would jumpstart him.  No response.  This was not good.  This was really not good.

She sat back on her heels, staring at her friend.  It was unclear why Killerwatt wasn’t waking up, but her theory was that it had to do with how frequently he had shut himself down completely- while not technically dangerous, not in the time frame he had been doing it- it was possible that somehow- somehow- something had gone wrong with triggering his startup sequence.  Perhaps a fuse had tripped, or his internal timer had frozen, trapping him in his manual shutdown.  Either way, they had reached the point where no more work could be done from her room.  She had to get him to her workshop.  He would be fine, but she had to get him to her workshop.

Sighing, she lifted him in a fireman’s carry, hoisting him over her shoulder.  It was not too far to her repair shop- the trick would be making sure no one else came across them.  As it was, Wrench could not risk causing more panic- even Slick would be concerned if she saw this.  And she did not want to think about Electra’s reaction if they saw the pair.  So, after making sure Killerwatt was secure, she prepared to exit her room.  Wallowing would have to wait.

She skated out into the hall carefully, slower than she would have liked due to her cargo and the desire to not cause further harm.  Panicking would do her no favors, but it was hard not to- Killerwatt should not be limp like this, utterly unresponsive.  She kept reminding herself that he was already shut down, and that a few more minutes would not make a difference- he could not become more damaged if no system was active to be damaged.  It was fine.  Technically there was a problem, but right now he could become no better or worse, and she tried to focus on that as her fingers ached for her equipment.

She was almost to her workshop- two more corners and she could have been home free- when she realized the distant sound of skates was growing louder, and she, in her distraction, had no time to hide before a silver-clad individual came into view.

“Hey Wrench.”  It was Joule, skating up to her.  The dynamite truck looked unchanged from when Wrench had seen her last- which is to say, bad Miserable really- she had not taken Slick’s fury well.  Wrench supposed she couldn’t blame her- the repair truck had at least been able to talk to her, and apologize for what she regretted- Joule had not.  Could not, and Wrench could not force Slick to reconsider.  But she had another problem right now- Joule would have to wait.  This was an emergency, and she couldn’t let anyone know.

“Uh…” Joule had evidently seen Killerwatt, and was now regarding her with no small amount of confusion, “what’s up with him?”  Okay.  Unfortunate, but not unforeseen.  Wrench had a plan for this, and it was one that would hopefully get Joule to go away without saying so.  Her friend was fragile right now- Wrench did not want to make her feel unwanted.

“Killerwatt decided that today was the day to review emergency maintenance protocols- specifically the emergency transportation of patients,” Wrench said carefully, trying to appear annoyed over anything else, “unfortunately, he’s very committed to this and has decided to play dead until it’s over.”  She jostled him slightly.  To the average observer, it would seem as if she was simply annoyed and giving him a nudge- in reality, her move was far more calculated.

“Ugh, he would,” snarked Joule, but it was lacking her usual bite, and the smile she sent Wrench was half hearted and lacked her customary sparkle.  It was hard to imagine that only a month prior, Joule had burst into Wrench’s repair shop in only her underwear, babbling in flushed and delighted tones about how she had woken up with Slick and how she had found out that she has abs Wrench!  And she can pin me down!  It was hard to reconcile that excitable truck she had yelled at to put pants on with the one before her now.

Wrench continued moving, making sure that Joule would have to turn to skate with her.  This way, the dynamite truck would not get the opportunity to try to talk to or touch Killerwatt.  That would give everything away.

“Can I help you?”  She asked Joule as she moved down the hall at a steady pace, trying to appear unbothered.

“No, I was just looking for the two of you- I wanted to see about a bonfire soon,” Joule said slowly.  They rounded the corner of the hall in which Wrench’s workshop resided.  Almost there.  “But if you’re busy,” Joule spoke quickly now, anticipating Wrench’s response, “I can come back later,”

“I think that might be best,”  Wrench returned.  The door was just within reach.  “We’ll probably be at this for a few hours.  I’ll talk to you about it tonight?”

“Sounds good,”  Again, that half-hearted half-smile, “I’ll leave you to it, then.  Don’t be too hard on her, Killerwatt.”  Even that was wrong, Wrench realized.  Joule should have teased her, told Killerwatt to start yelling about how Wrench had moved wrong and he was going to lose a leg.  But she didn’t do any of that.  Instead, Joule skated down the hall.  Wrench watched her go, and it was only after the truck had turned the corner that she allowed herself a sigh of relief and opened the door to the repair shop.

Carefully, she put him down on one of the tables, turning away to gather her supplies.  His shirt would have to come off, and she grabbed her l shears to cut through the fabric to access his chest, attaching her sensors to his chest and double checking the hydraulic hookups at his ribs.  As she had suspected, the cursory once-over revealed nothing out of place- the problem was almost certainly a software issue.  Oh, Killerwatt.

Though she was not supposed to, she took a moment to squeeze his hand.  No response, though at this point she knew not to expect one.  But she would figure it out.  He would be okay.  He would.

“Okay,” she murmured, mostly to him but a little for herself too, “Let’s figure this out.”  The cables came out then, attached securely at Killerwatt’s temples. She plugged both cables into her workstation, and opened up his source code.  No initial problems jumped out at her: she would have to properly troubleshoot the startup sequence.  And possibly more- she would need to check his diagnostic report and make sure there was no internal damage from any of this.   Once she got this straightened out, she was permanently disabling this feature, no matter what.  He may have begged, but she had done this.  This was her fault.

The door swung open suddenly with a bang, and Wrench’s head whipped up, unable to do anything as her house of cards crashed down around her.  The jig was up.  

“Oh, I almost forgot, I needed-“ But whatever Joule needed would remain a mystery as she took in the sight of Wrench and Killerwatt before her- the latter dead to the world, covered in sensors and cables attached to his temples, and the former, frozen at her desk staring at her with a horribly guilty expression.  Shit.

“Wrench?”

Shit.

Chapter Text

After the three rounds of chess the prior day (a win for both of them and a game that tied), Slick had assumed that this was the extent of Voltas determination to apologize.  But the next morning, he had shown up at her door with the set and a pack of cards, nervously asking if she would be interested in playing another round, or perhaps a new game altogether.  She had accepted, and now they were here, in the central hub, playing a tense game of go fish.  It was nice.  It was fun, even, until-

“What did you do?”  Joule (for it was unmistakably Joule) shrieked.  Slick and Volta stared at each other a moment, then immediately sprang into action, scrambling up and skating towards the sound of the commotion- Wrench’s workshop.  

They skated through the slightly ajar door, one after the other, to find Joule hovering over a prone Killerwatt, hands fluttering anxiously.  Wrench was at her workbench, quickly typing something on a computer, with cables that stretched to Killerwatt’s temples.  At their arrival, Jouke jolted up to look at them, for the first time meeting Slick gaze with something other than guilt or hesitance: fear.  This was so much worse.

“Killerwatt,” Slick said before she could stop herself.  The security truck looked lifeless, laid out on the workbench with wires coming from his head and sensors attached to his chest.

“Wrench, what happened?”  Asked Volta, having skated over to stand behind Wrench, peering over her shoulder with wide eyes.

“He didn’t wake up this morning,” replied the repair truck tersely, “I think it’s a malfunction within his startup sequence- he’s in stasis and can’t wake up on his own.  But he is okay.”  Wrench stressed the last part, but it didn’t help.

“This does not look okay!”  Joule cried, wringing her hands.  Wrench grabbed her wrists, causing Joule to stop and look down at the repair truck.

“It is going to be okay, because I can fix this, I just need you to stay calm.  It should be a relatively simple fix- I was going to get him up and running again before anyone realized, but now you’re here, so you can help.”

“I-” Wrench was staring very intensely at Joule, who swallowed hard and nodded, “okay.”

“We can help,” said Volta, volunteering himself and Slick.  If it weren’t so serious, Slick would have given him grief for speaking for her.  As it was she only nodded.

“Okay,” Wrench was nodding, “okay.  This will work; you’re more than enough hands.  We just need to be efficient and exact.  And it is imperative the no one tell Electra-“

“‘No one tell Electra’ what?”  Came a smooth voice from the doorway, and Slick turned with the others to see Electra, standing in the still open door.  The room froze.  Electra, hearing no response, glided into the room in the ensuing silence.

“Wrench,” they began, “what don’t you want me to-“ the instant they saw Killerwatt, their entire demeanor changed.  They stiffened, eyes growing wide in concern and- fear?

“Electra, he’s alright,” Wrench was speaking quickly, even as she resumed her typing, suddenly far more frantic than she had been a moment prior, “I didn’t want you to worry- it was an accident-”

“Killerwatt!”  They lurched forward, hand outstretched and eyes wide with unmistakable panic.

“No, don’t!” Called Wrench, lunging forward to intercept them, but she was too late.  

Two things happened then, almost simultaneously and far too quickly for anyone to stop.  Slick watched as, seemingly out of Electra’s control, lightning arced from their fingertips, hitting Killerwatt square in the chest and switching targets to hit Wrench’s arm as soon as she became the closer target.  Wrench went flying backwards, hitting her workstation with a loud thunk and crashing to the floor.

“Wrench!” Several voices, Slick’s included, cried, joining the sudden cacophony of beeping that had arisen from the monitors Killerwatt was attached to.

“I thought you said he was alright!” Electra screeched, static and panic distorting their voice.  Slick could feel her skates begging to drift towards the engine under their own power.  Their electromagnetism, seemingly beyond their control.

“No, he was fine until you tried to touch him, just back up,” snarled Wrench, and Electra reeled back as if they had been the one electrocuted, rather than the other way around.  The repair truck staggered to her feet, clutching her arm- her fingers were spasming in an awkward way that looked painful- and turned back to Killerwatt, still motionless on the bench despite the streaming from the monitors.

“Volta,” she instructed, waving off Joule, who had darted forward to steady her, “I need my tools- his battery might have been damaged from the shock.  Joule, start preparing the staple gun.  Slick-” At this Slick’s head shot up, not really expecting to be addressed.  Her expertise was not in repairs.  Instead Wrench looked from her to Electra, the latter frozen and staring at their security truck, “keep them calm.”

“But-“ She did not want to help them.  She was still furious at them for their part in making her electric- and how they hadn’t understood why she was so upset.

“Slick.”  Wrench’s voice was tense, but held a definite note of desperation, and it was that more than anything that made Slick cave.

“Fine.”  Carefully, she grabbed Electra’s sleeve, not wanting to accidentally get electrocuted herself.  Carefully, she steered them further back from Wrench’s work table, over to the wall where they would be out of the way.  They gave no indication they had noticed her, staring at the scene before them as Wrench made a series of cuts on Killerwatt’s chest and began prying up the metal plate below his synthetic skin.  Slick looked away quickly.  She was not a squeamish individual by any means, but it made her wonder if this had been what it had been like when Wrench had worked on her.  That, and watching Wrench work on someone that she had despite herself begun to think of as a friend was hard.  She could only imagine what that was like for Wrench. Or Volta, or Joule.  Or Electra.

“This is my fault,” they muttered, seemingly unaware they were speaking out loud.

“It was an accident,” Slick said.  That much had been clear. “We saw, you didn’t mean to-“

“Not just this,” they cut her off, finally tearing their gaze from Wrench and Killerwatt to look at her.  Their eyes were glowing slightly, the irises an electric blue, and Slick could feel the faint pull on her joints grow stronger.  

“I thought I was forcing him into something,” they said quietly, “more than any of the others- that he was just doing what I asked because I was his boss.  So I- I had to end it.”

“Electra-”

“If I give them enough money, will they stay?” They asked suddenly, desperate in a way that made them sound horribly small, “What will it take to make them stay?”  Slick could feel the pull steadily growing stronger, and she reached out to place a hand on their arm.  They looked down at it, and back up at her.

“Electra,” Wrench called  from where she was standing, “I need to discharge Killerwatts battery, and I can’t do that if your magnetism is spiking.  I need you to stay calm, or you’ll have to leave.”  Slick had to respect how calm Wrench sounded as she made her request.  The repair truck was holding two cables that were hooked up to some box Joule was fiddling with, the dynamite truck switching several dials and glancing at Killerwatt worriedly.  Volta was currently standing over Killerwatt with some form of tool that flashed and beeped as he reached into Killerwatt’s now-exposed chest cavity.  Slick turned away, swallowing, and turned to Electra, who was staring, fans whirring furiously.

“Electra,” she began, and they turned back towards her, fixing her with a pleading stare, “I’m sorry for what I said about your family.”  They blinked, and Slick felt their magnetism abruptly lessen.  She had surprised them.

“But you were right-“ they began, and Slick internally cursed the fact that she couldn’t even enjoy hearing those words from them.

“I didn’t realize how far you would take it, okay?  I didn’t mean for what I said to sound definite, I literally didn’t know.  My family- we’re not like this.  But maybe- maybe your is.  I think-” she looked at the others, the trio working desperately to save their friend.  As she watched, Wrench took her cables and carefully affixed them to two different points within Killerwatt’s chest.  She turned to the readout on the machine Joule had been fiddling with, and peered at the readout.  She didn’t say anything, but there was a definite expression of relief on her face.  

“I think you need to talk to them about what you’re afraid of.”  She finally managed.  She hadn’t realized how badly this would spiral out of control.  She hadn’t meant to hurt the others- not Killerwatt, or Wrench, or Volta, or Electra.  Not even Joule, who Slick watched grab Volta's arm as the two stood off to the side watching Wrench, their part now done.

“They’re angry with me,” Electra muttered, “and I’ve hurt Killerwatt- they’ll hate me after this.”

“They’re confused and hurt, Electra, they don’t know why you started acting weird.”  Slick argued.  This entire conversation was surreal- she, of all people, playing at a relationship counselor with an engine she hated while a coworker she actually didn’t mind was almost out of mortal peril.  Electra looked at her dubiously, but Slick was prepared for their hesitance.

“When Killerwatt wakes up, someone’s going to need to be there for him,” she said, and Electra nodded, “maybe consider starting there.”

“You don’t know anything about electric recovery rates,” they scoffed weakly, but had a considerate look on their face.  Slick was about to ask what exactly they meant by that, and maybe also ask about their reaction when she had found out she was electric, but they were interrupted by Wrench.

“Damn it, come on,” Wrench muttered seemingly to herself, eyes focused on the staple gun she held in her hand- her pointer and middle fingers had failed to bend around it.  After a couple more seconds of the repair truck clearly trying to move her fingers to no avail, she grasped her fingers with her other hand and forced them into position.  A sickening crunch could be heard as the joints ground against each other within her hand, and Wrench gritted her teeth, pushing forward.  Slick saw Joule start forward with a concerned look on her face, but Volta grabbed her shoulder with a muttered “let her work,” though he also looked worried.  Joule’s eyes met Slick’s for a moment, and Slick could see how tired she was, and how much this had taken a toll on her.  Then, she tore her gaze away.

Wrench had finished stapling Killerwatt’s synthetic skin back into place over the metal plating, and was double checking it to make sure it was secure.  Once complete, she turned back to the computer at her workstation, combing through the lines of code present on the screen- Killerwatt’s code.  Occasionally, she would type something out on the screen, periodically glancing at Killerwatt as she did- until finally, she closed the program and unplugged the cables from Killerwatt’s temples.

Slick felt Electra tense next to her, as if to get up and go over, but Wrench froze them in place with a look, and they slumped next to Slick.  Wrench carefully lifted Killerwatt’s head slightly, pressing something on the back of his neck, and then laid his head back down and skated backwards, eyes never leaving her patient.  The room was silent as they all watched the still figure on the table, as his fans began to whirr and lights began to blink, until finally- finally- Killerwatt’s eyes flickered open, glowing blue and then fading to their normal appearance.

“Wrench?”  Killerwatt asked, furrowing his brow slightly.  He turned his head towards her and moved to sit up, but was stopped by the repair truck’s hand on his arm.

“Welcome back,” Wrench said quietly, beginning to remove the cables plugged into the security truck’s temples, “how do you feel?”

“I’m fine.  I don’t… the last thing I remember was falling asleep.”  His eyes widened, and the sensors Wrench had not yet removed showed a sudden uptick in the monitor as they began to beep.  “Did something happen?  Is Electra alright?”  He was beginning to panic, shifting to sit up again, and he likely would have succeeded had Electra not darted forward and placed a hand on the center of his chest, gently stilling him.  Killerwatt stared up at them with big eyes, but did not otherwise move.

“I’m fine,” they said softly, “listen to Wrench.  We were worried about you.”  Killerwatt nodded, not looking away from the engine.

“Your startup sequence malfunctioned, and then your battery needed to be discharged,” Wrench said, eyes darting between the two, “I’ve fixed both issues; you should be fine now.  But Killerwatt,” she said, and he turned towards her at the tone of her voice, “manual shutdown at night is no longer an option.”  He nodded at that, but it was Electra who had the stronger reaction.

“Manual shutdown?” They said, a hand coming up to rest on his cheek, “Killerwatt- why?”  It occurred to Slick that this was perhaps the most emotive she had ever seen Electra- they had looked devastated before, but now they simply looked sad.

Killerwatt had grasped Electra’s wrist with his own hand, and was staring up at them nervously.  “I- I was-“ he stuttered, then swallowed, starting again. “You needed a security truck at the top of their game, not losing sleep over- over personal problems.”  He looked down at the last part- Slick had no doubt that everyone here knew what personal problems meant.

“How long have you been having ‘personal problems?’” Electra asked, their thumb stroking Killerwatts cheek.

“It's not important, really-“ Killerwatt began, but went silent as Electra looked over to their repair truck.

“Wrench?”

“Since you kicked him out.”  She supplied, and they nodded, turning back to a now furiously glowing Killerwatt.  

“I’ll keep a better handle on it, it won’t be a problem,” he began, “I don’t want you to worry.”  Though he was not looking, Slick saw it: the expression of guilt that flashed across Electra’s face at his assurance. 

“And you think this didn’t make me worry?”  You were lying there, and I almost lost my-“ they looked down, and even from where she was standing Slick could see the glitter of tears that threatened to fall.

“I almost lost the opportunity to make things right.”  They cupped Killerwatts face gently with both hands, leaning in until they were almost nose to nose, “I almost lost you.”  Killerwatt was staring at them now with a definite look of surprise.

“Such a good security truck,” Electra murmured, and Slick saw Killerwatt swallow, eyes wide and flicking to Electra’s lips.  Electra followed the movement, slowly smiling.

“Stop me if this isn’t what you want,” they said softly, and leaned in, closing the final gap between them.  They kissed him gently, and after a moment Killerwatt responded, closing his eyes and bringing a hand up to cup the nape of their neck, as their own hands traveled to his waist and back, pulling him closer.  The pair broke apart after a moment, staring at each other as Killerwatt panted slightly.  Then, Electra surged forward again, and Killerwatt did not stop them.

For a couple seconds, it was sweet, and Slick was legitimately happy for the pair.  But then they continued to kiss, and it started getting… awkward.  It was entirely possible that Killerwatt and Electra had forgotten the others were there at all, as wrapped up in each other as they were.  Fortunately, the silence was broken, and Slick wasn’t the one to break it.

“Get a room,” suggested Volta, whose hand was covering his eyes but open enough to peek.  Joule was grinning next to him, still shaky but very smug.  Electra and Killerwatt broke apart to glower at him, and then back at each other, Killerwatt staring up at Electra nervously.

“Let’s go back to ours,” Electra murmured, and Killerwatt broke into a relieved smile as they did.

“That- that sounds good,” he said, nodding, as they drew back and extended a hand to help him off of the table.

“Wait,” Wrench interjected, speeding over to Killerwatt and beginning to take off the sensors still attached to him, “you’re cleared to leave but be careful- don’t mess with the incision site, and if you start to feel at all odd, tell me immediately,”  Killerwatt nodded, grabbing her wrist before she got the chance to pull away.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and after a moment she nodded slowly, “not just for this- for everything.”  At that Wrench went still, and gave him a small smile.  He hugged her suddenly, and after a moment she reciprocated, hands coming to rest on his back.  Finally, he drew back , and turned towards Electra, who was watching Wrench with an uneasy look on their face.

“Wrench-“ they began, but she shook her head, not looking at them.

“It’s fine,” Wrench said, cradling her injured hand, “you were worried, and it was an accident.  Go with Killerwatt.  We can talk later.” They did not look convinced, but nodded all the same, taking Killerwatt’s hand and dashing from the room.

“They’re totally gonna fuck,” said Joule, wiggling her eyebrows at Volta, who scoffed.

“Please- Killerwatt’s a gentleman, they’re just going to make out more and cuddle,” he said decisively.  Joule wrinkled her nose and swatted at his arm playfully.  It felt forced slightly, like she was happy, but didn’t have enough energy to make it properly genuine.

“Or they’re going to talk to each other, guys, come on,” groaned Wrench, crossing to her now vacant workbench and propping her arm up.  She stared at it intensely, but it was only after her ring, and pinkie fingers moved that Slick realized she was trying to move her fingers.  Fingers that remained still and awkwardly curled, damaged after Electra’s accidental shock.  

“Wrench?”  Slick asked tentatively, and Wrench nodded, her eyes not leaving her hand, “how bad is it?”  Joule and Volta both turned to see Wrench’s response, any teasing they had been gearing up for immediately vanishing as they took in what Wrench was doing.

“Put it this way,” Wrench said, beginning to loosen the plating on her injured arm, “That was the last time anyone can have emergency repairs for a while.”

Chapter Text

‘A while’ ended up being far longer than anyone, even Wrench expected.  It had been a week and a half since the incident in the repair shop, and they had all settled into a tentative peace.  Slick had returned to her work (the knowledge that despite everything, Electra paid extremely well hadn’t hurt things), and Killerwatt and Electra had slowly settled into their new routine.  It was honestly a little funny to see how little of their routine actually did change: Killerwatt moved back in with Electra (Joule had hollered “Gay!” at the news so loud that Volta had dropped his shears in his workshop and come running to yell at her), and now when they looked at each other they sometimes would catch each other's eye and share a smile.  It was sickeningly domestic, and Slick couldn’t help but feel a coil of envy when she saw them.

Occasionally, one of the other components might catch the two of them holding hands.  Someone had commented on this exactly once: Volta had seen the pair and immediately started griping about how he was the only one not in a relationship, until he had been sharply elbowed by Wrench and the group had fallen into an uncomfortable silence as Slick glared at the floor.  It hadn’t come up again. 

And… Wrench was adjusting to the new normal too.  The repair truck had still not recovered from Electra’s shock.  While Killerwatt’s battery had been affected by the voltage, Wrench’s arm had received the brunt of the bolt.  While her black underlayer covered most of her arm (she had not put plating on since becoming injured- Slick suspected the pressure of the plating caused too much pain to do so, and that the damage was more extensive than Wrench had let on), it was possible to see pink branching marks peeking out from below her collar and spreading onto her jaw.  Lichtenberg marks, which still had yet to fade.  Worse still was the fact that her hand still wasn’t repaired- Wrench’s pointer and middle finger remained curled toward her palm, and were functionally useless, a fact Wrench had reported herself.  Since then, she hadn’t been able to do much work in her repair shop- the majority of the tools involved a level of precision to use that Wrench didn’t have in her injured state.

It was likely due to this that things had still been strained between Wrench and Electra as well- though the overt tension was gone, as they had clearly talked at some point, things were still slightly awkward between the two.  There was a stilted politeness in their interactions, as if both were worried about upsetting the other, even as Electra requested daily reports on her (delayed) recovery and asked her what work could be done while she waited on the servos she needed to do her own repairs (the servos were on back order, and the answer was very little).  It had been less than promising.

Now, they were all out on the tracks, coming back from a two day trip.  It had been pretty standard- pick up the cargo, deliver it to its destination, collect payment.  Rinse and repeat.  They weren’t all needed for the job, but Slick had her suspicions that Electra was trying to be nice and give Wrench something to do that wasn’t sit around in a repair shop full of tools the truck couldn’t use.  And if Wrench was going, the others might as well come along.

Slick was coupled up to Wrench, with Killerwatt coupled up behind her.  They were traveling fast, wind whipping around them and drying out her eyes.  It was nice, getting to watch the landscape fly by from the tracks as they sped through fields, forests, and seaside to get back to the electric compound.

“We’re pulling into a depot soon,” Electra called down the train, “I need to refuel.”  They were met with a chorus of affirmations- if Electra ran out of fuel, none of them would be going anywhere.  They soon came across the depot- a large, rectangular building with windows high up its walls.  It was a hub of activity, bustling with many other trains going about their business.

They pulled into the depot, Electra waiting until they had come to a complete stop before uncoupling and turning to look at Killerwatt expectantly.  It was clear they wanted the security truck’s help refueling- apparently that had been something they had done for a while.  Slick heard a huff of laughter behind her, and the pressure of her couplers eased as the security truck skated over to his engine and took their hand.

“Use protection, you two,” snickered Volta, and Electra leveled the freezer truck with a glower before the pair skated off.  Now, it was only the other four: free to do whatever they wanted until Electra was ready to leave again.

“I’m going to see if there are any servos here,” Wrench announced, her operational hand gripping the wrist of her damaged one sporadically.  As her supplier was currently out of the proper type, she had taken to other methods to find the models she needed.  So far she had been unsuccessful, but it always paid to see if anyone was selling them, even second hand.

“I’ll go with you,” Volta announced with a smile, offering her his arm.  Wrench didn’t take it but it did make her smirk as she turned to leave.  Before he followed Wrench, however, Volta turned to Slick.

“Talk to her,” he hissed, jerking his head in Joule’s direction.  Slick glared at him, crossing her arms.  This was not the first time Volta had tried this.

“No.”  He scowled, but didn’t say anything else, and he and Wrench headed off, further into the depot.

Now it was just her and Joule loitering by the tracks.  Slick kept her arms folded and head down, eyes on the tracks.  Joule was still her coworker, and because of that (and only because of that) the tanker could remain cordial, only if they were discussing work.  Beyond that, all bets were still off, much to the others chagrin.

“Slick, I-“ Joule started, looking unsure.  Slick had to hand it to her- the dynamite truck's tenacity was impressive.  If she had been snapped at this many times by someone, she probably would never speak to them again.  But that didn’t mean that she was willing to hear the dynamite truck out.  No one had hurt her as intimately- Joule's betrayal cut deep, down to her new electric core.

“Unless it’s work related, I don’t want to hear it,” Slick snapped, turning away.  Joule did not speak again, and she felt some satisfaction in that as she skated away from the dynamite truck.  What Joule did, alone in the middle of the busy depot, was none of her concern.

She skated down one of the many long halls, passing other engines, coaches, and freight in the process.  For the most part they took no notice of her, engrossed in their own activities and concerns, too busy to notice a random silver tanker making her own way through the place.  It was interesting, honestly, to simply stop and watch the other trains heading every which way, out on their own errands and hauls.  No one would stay here for very long, but there were always more coming, from all over.  It was nice.  Slick had never been in a place like this for very long, and certainly never long enough to look around.  She turned to survey the space again, and her eyes alighted on a familiar figure.  Oh shit.  

Silver Bullet was right there, looking at a schedule posted on the wall- this was really bad.  He couldn’t see her- if Green Arrow was any indication, none of the engines would be happy with her sudden career change as they understood it.  Well, they had never been happy with her before, per say, but they were definitely furious with her now.  Plus, Bullet had never forgotten about the crash he had gotten caught in, and had certainly never forgiven her for being its cause.  He was probably the worst person to come across on her own here, the others stars knew were in the depot.  She couldn’t let him see her.

She looked around quickly, trying not to draw attention to herself.  Bullet hadn’t seen her yet, but that would change if she didn’t find somewhere to hide now.  She looked to her side- a door, one of the many that lined the hall, was slightly ajar next to her.  Perfect.  She dashed inside, closing the door behind her, and sighing with relief, closing her eyes and resting her head on the door.  He hadn’t seen her; she was safe.  She was fine.   She was alone now, and everything was fine.

Except… it wasn’t, quite.  In her haste, Slick hadn’t realized she had dashed into one of the many refueling stations, made for all different sorts of engines.  And, unlike many of the others, this station wasn’t empty.  But Slick, caught up in her own emergency, failed to take any of this into account.  

She didn’t consider any of this until she heard the engine approach and she opened her eyes, freezing at the sight of the figure before her.   The two simply regarded each other for an eternity, until finally the engine broke the silence.

“Slick!”

Momma.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, when she had been a very small trainlet, the man Slick had once called father left her in an abandoned train station.  Though she had long since forgotten what exactly he looked like, she could remember his wide smile and wave as he told her to stay put, and the way the sun had shone off of his red painted details as he skated off.  She remembered waiting at the train station by the warped tracks, picking up pebbles to toss and finding sticks to draw in the dirt with to pass the time.  She remembered how cold it had gotten at night as she curled up under some brittle, sun-bleached newspapers for warmth, as the day had turned to night and back again.

She didn’t know how long she had been there before Momma showed up.  Time had blurred together- sometimes dark, sometimes light, sometimes hot, mostly cold.  The engine had been a beacon among the dilapidated buildings of the station, burnished playing gleaming in the sun and steam curling around her, ever so patient as she sat and coaxed Slick out of her hiding place.  She remembered how good it had felt when she had finally, terrified but overcome with a need for someone, scrambled out from below the broken bench she had curled up under, and launched herself into Momma's lap.  Momma had been warm, and strong, and an undeniable comfort after cold nights and too long alone.

Though she had not thought of that day in years, Slick found herself reminiscing in vivid clarity.  She had not considered that old red caboose her father since that night.  Momma held the honor of being her only parent- she was the one who had found her, and made her a home.  She felt a little like how she did then, staring at the steamer- like she needed to run and hide from an unknown force.  Her mother.

Momma was here.  Momma was here.  Momma's exclamation hung in the air between the pair, Slick unable to do anything but continue to stare.  Her mouth was suddenly very dry.  Here was her mother, the person she had missed for literal months, and suddenly every thought she had wanted to share had left her head completely.  Now, she could only watch the engine.

The steamer seemed cautious as she skated closer, which Slick tried not to feel hurt at.  Of course she was cautious, she had found out her daughter crashed trains as a side job- any trust was long gone.  Now, there was only an old steam engine and the truck who was no longer sure if she could even still be called the steamer’s daughter.

“Momma.”  The word came out small, but it was all Slick could manage.  This was the first time they had been face to face since she had crashed Rusty- for as long as she lived, Slick would never forget her face in the finals, once she realized what her daughter had done.  What would Momma do now?  What would she say?

Look at you,” Momma breathed, and Slick tensed, bracing for the judgement of how different she looked.  She squirmed under the steamer’s gaze.  There was an awkward sort of pause, like neither of them really knew what to say or do.  There were so many things Slick wanted to do- cry, apologize, run.  Launching herself at Momma for a hug was at the top of the list.

“I know I look different,” she said nervously, looking down at her outfit.  Pristine, as per the usual, and something she had eventually gotten used to- but a very far cry from the oil tanker uniform she had worn before.

“Outgrown the yellow?”  Momma asked quietly.  

“No, it’s- Electra has a dress code,” Slick said.  She waited for the inevitable condemnation, but there was none of that on Momma’s face as she took Slick in.

“I like the hair,” the steamer said, and Slick reached up to touch her mohawk- the braided sides and platinum ends were as neat as ever.  

“I used to braid my hair like that, you know,” Momma said, drawing closer and sitting, motioning for Slick to do the same.  After a moment, Slick did, and Momma spoke again. “You look just like I did when I was your age.”  

“Right,” Slick said disbelievingly, and Momma laughed, reaching out to ruffle the tanker’s hair.

“Really! I used to braid my hair back, to keep it out of my face in the races,” Momma was smiling fondly, a twinkle in her eye as she reminisced, “I stopped when I adopted Porter and Lumber- now I just manage a few twists.”  She gestured to her hair, at the segments pulled back to stay out of her face.

“It’s hard to imagine you as anything other than ancient and rusting,” Slick shot back instinctively.  Instantly, the mood changed, and Slick froze.  Momma frowned, and withdrew her hand.

“Slick…” she sighed, chiding.

“Sorry.”  Slick mumbled.  It was growth, she supposed.  Months ago, before the races, she wouldn’t have thought to feel bad about her words, much less apologize for them.  But she had a lot to apologize for.  

“I’m sorry, Momma,” she started again.

“You already-“

“No, not that,” Slick cut her off, barreling forward before she could think too much about it, “I’m sorry for the other stuff too- I’m sorry I was mean to you about steam, I’m sorry I just left-“ even if that wasn’t strictly what happened, she knew it was what Momma thought, and she was sorry for hurting her like that “- And I’m sorry I crashed Rusty, Momma, I’m so sorry I did-“. Slick was cut off as she was pulled into a tight hug.  She felt wetness on the plating her cheek was pressed against- she had started crying at some point, without realizing.

“Slick, Slick, it’s okay.  You’re okay.”  Momma was rubbing her back now, a soothing and repetitive motion.  “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“I- I’m sorry Momma.”  Slick gasped out again.  She had to make sure Momma knew she meant it.

“I know.  Slick, it’s okay. I’m not mad, alright?”

“You should be,” Slick whispered, “I crashed Rusty.  I know that hurt you.”  Momma's arms tightened, and then loosened.  The steamer sighed, leaning back on her heels.

“I was upset at first, yes.  But then you crashed with Electra and Greaseball, and next thing I knew I had two of Electra’s components drinking tea in my living room and telling me that you were taking a job with Electra and wouldn’t be back for a while- that you didn’t want to see me.”  Slick swallowed, hard.  Joule had mentioned as much to her, that Momma had been upset she wasn’t there.  “But this seemed good for you, despite everything, so I- I let you go.”

Slick nodded, her vision beginning to blur again.  Of course Momma would say something like that- how this was a good opportunity for her.  It wasn’t like she knew any better.

“I’m not mad anymore because I missed you, Slick.  So, so much.”  The words were said lowly, Momma grasping Slick’s hands within her own tightly.  “I was so scared that you would be angry with me, the next time I saw you.”

“I was scared you’d feel the same.”  Slick murmured, staring at her mother, who looked heartbroken at her words.

“Never, Slick- you’re still my little oil drum.  Nothing you do will ever change that.  And no uniform or hair dye changes who you are.”  Momma finished, but despite her words Slick drew back.  She had to tell Momma the extent of it, how much she really had been changed.  It wasn’t something she could hide for very long, even if Momma had made her views on electric power very clear.  She didn’t want to hide it from her mother.  She just hoped that that fallout wouldn’t be as bad as she feared.

“It’s not just that,” she started hesitantly, looking down so as not to see the engine's face.  “I’m electric now Momma,” her voice came out with a wobble, and she crossed her arms over herself in mimicry of a hug, “I got converted after my crash.”  She looked down, not wanting to see the disappointment on her mothers face.  It was one thing to fear it, it was another to have to face it, and she couldn’t do it.

“Oh Slick,” Momma's voice trembled, and suddenly Slick found herself wrapped in the tightest hug she could ever remember having received, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that on your own.  That must have been hard.”  After a moment, Slick put her arms around Momma tentatively.  Momma wasn’t mad.  Momma wasn’t mad.

“Yeah,” she whispered, clutching at Momma’s plating and feeling like that little trainlet all over again, small and soft and scared, “it was.”  

“I’m so glad you’re alright,”  Momma murmured into Slick's ear.  Slick could feel a wetness gathering in her hair, and that made her want to start crying again too.  “We’ll stay like this for as long as you need to, okay?”  Slick nodded against Momma's plating, closing her eyes.  Momma's engine was warm beneath her plating, and she could feel the vibrations from her motor beneath her cheek and against her chest.  She found herself thinking of her first meeting with Momma, where as soon as she had concluded she was safe, she had gone limp, exhaustion taking its toll.  She almost felt like doing it again- she was safe here, in Momma’s arms after so long.

“How is working for Electra?”  Momma asked finally, breaking the silence that had settled between them.  Though she did look down at Slick expectantly, she did not let the oil tanker go- she wanted to hold Slick as much as Slick wanted to hug her, Slick realized.  The thought made something in her warm.

“It’s… it’s okay,” Slick said slowly, scrambling for something to say that wasn’t ‘I got kidnapped and it just got crazier from there.’  She wasn’t going to tell her mother all of the bad stuff right off of the bat.  “I ended up doing the finances for them.  There’s a lot of travel, so I get to go plenty of places.  The people aren’t bad.”  She was not telling Momma about Joule.  “The pay is good.”  She finished lamely.  Honestly, the pay was great.

“Oh Slick,” Momma's eyes shimmered, and Slick realized it was the steamer’s turn to fight back tears, “I’m so proud of you.”

Slick blinked.  Out of everything she had expected out of seeing Momma again, this was… entirely unexpected, and all thought of telling Momma the truth died on her tongue.  Proud.  Despite becoming electric, despite her crashing Rusty, and insulting her, and being gone for so long, Momma was proud.

“You- you are?”  Slick asked disbelievingly, and she felt Momma’s arms tighten around her again.  

“I know how badly you wanted to leave the yard, how hard you worked to save your money.  And I know how you never were allowed to do the accounting in the yard, despite having such a gift for it.  But Slick,” here the steamer pulled back a little, so she could look at her daughter properly, “you’ve managed to do it anyway.  And I couldn’t be prouder.”

“Oh,” Slick whispered.  She hadn’t realized Momma had known all of that.  

“I missed my little rabble rouser,” Momma said, smiling slightly as she pinched Slick's cheek.  “But I would never stand in the way of her achieving her goals.”  Slick batted her hand away, but did not stop the smile from spreading across her face as she felt it begin to heat from Momma’s words.

“Oh!”  Momma exclaimed, and Slick realized she was glowing again.  She covered her face with her hands and turned away.  Even if Momma was okay with her being an electric, this was still a far cry for what had happened before.  Evidence that despite everything she had changed, and seeing was so different than knowing-

“There’s the yellow,” Momma laughed, and despite herself Slick found herself smiling as well, turning back towards Momma and tentatively uncovering her face.  The steamer was smiling at her fondly, making the corners of her eyes crinkle, “just hidden a little bit, hm?”  Slick hadn’t thought about it like that before.  

“Hidden,” she agreed, “but still there.”

Those were the last words spoken between the pair for a good long while, as mother and daughter sat together in the refueling room.  Soon Momma would have to continue on, and Slick would have to find the others, but for the time being she could simply hug the engine as tight as she could: the little trainlet having finally, at long last, found her mother. 

Chapter Text

It felt like it had been ages by the time Slick finally extracted herself from her mother.  Her mother, who still loved her.  Her mother, who was proud of her.

Of course, Momma had to go.  She still had a trip to complete, and Slick had other electrics to find.  Still, she skated to the tracks with Momma, and hugged the steamer one last time before the engine set out.

“Write, Slick,” Momma instructed firmly, and Slick rolled her eyes despite herself, smiling as she pressed her face into the steamer’s warm plating, “I don’t want months of the silent treatment again.”  This was punctuated by Momma fondly ruffling her hair again, so Slick knew Momma wasn’t actually mad about it- just relieved that she was able to see Slick again.

“I’ll try Momma,” she mumbled.  She would have to figure out how exactly she could, but for her mother she would.  She drew back from Momma, until she was holding onto the steamer’s hands, and the two looked at each other for a moment.  Momma squeezed her hands, and Slick grasped back just as tightly.

“I love you,” Slick blurted out.  She hadn’t said it enough before, and it warranted saying now.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”  Momma said softly.  She leaned forward, and pressed a kiss onto Slick’s forehead.  Before, Slick would have cringed away from Momma before she could, complaining about her sentimentality- in public, no less!- but now she just let Momma kiss her, and wrap her in another tight hug.  Soon- too soon, but it would always be too soon- they separated for good, and Slick watched her mother speed off into the countryside, toward her next stop.  

She stayed there until Momma was a speck in the distance, and then gone entirely.  Only then did she turn away, back into the long halls of the depot.  Slick had components to find.  She peered down the hall  she had seen Silver Bullet in earlier, and was relieved to find the corridor completely deserted.  Good.  Maybe he had already left, and any confrontation with him could be avoided entirely.

Slick started down the corridor carefully, aware that there could be any number of trains (including the one she was most concerned about) behind the closed fueling doors.  She was alert, glancing around at any slight noise made.  She was almost down the corridor, simply a few more doors to pass.  Almost there.  Electra and Killerwatt would have surely finished fueling, so all she needed to do was find the others and-

She was abruptly drawn out of her musings as one of the doors swung open and she slammed into the engine who had just skated out.  She fell to the ground, letting out an “oof” as she did, and glanced up, prepared to tell off whoever it was she had run into- and froze. Oh no.  Out of every possible outcome of her time at the depot, she hadn’t expected her.

Blue Lightning was staring down at her, arms crossed and an impassive look on her face.  She made no move to help Slick up as the component scrambled to her skates.  Shit.  Shit, shit, shit.  She hadn’t thought that perhaps Bullet wouldn’t be alone.

“Lightning.”  She said with a swallow, staring slightly up at the engine.  Lightning had always had several inches on her- right now, Slick was painfully aware of this fact.

“Slick,” returned the engine, skating towards her ever so slightly, closing the space between the two.  Lightning reached out, caressing the side of Slick's face, and Slick did everything in her power not to flinch away from the touch.  Blue’s grip was firm, bordering on painful as she scanned the tanker's face with a faint scowl, taking in the silver makeup and new hair.

“Arrow wasn’t lying.  You do look different.”  The diesel engine said it with a twist in her mouth, evidently not liking what she saw.  “Huh.”

“Perks of a new job,” Slick responded dryly, and Blue scoffed.

“Right.  Living large and leaving us all behind.”  She said it with such derision, still caressing Slick’s face firmly as Slick stiffened.

“Lightning, what’s the hold up?”  A voice came from around the corner, and Lightning dropped her hand from Slick’s face as Silver Bullet came skating into the hall.  Fuck.  This was exactly what Slick had been trying to avoid.

“Bullet.”  She said, keeping her voice neutral.

“You,” said Silver Bullet with no small amount of surprise or disdain, “caused any more crashes lately?”  

“None that you can prove,” Slick said, crossing her arms defensively.  There had been little love between the two of them before Bullet had gotten caught up in the crash she had orchestrated, and now all that remained was a thin facade of… something south of congeniality.  Far south. Best to stick with Blue Lightning until she could get out of this conversation.

“What’s that noise?”  Bullet asked suddenly, and Slick and Lightning looked at each other, confused.

“What noise?”  Lightning asked.

“That high pitched sound, it sounds like- like one of those electric freaks,” Silver said slowly, and Slick stiffened slightly.  She remembered the day Joule had found her, and how she had thought the ringing had been from her crash- now, she knew that might not have been true.  Yet another new facet of her condition.  And unfortunately, it seemed like her reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“You’re electric,” Silver Bullet hissed.  And Lightning’s face dropped fully into a scowl as she stared down at Slick.  

“Electric,” she said softly, eyes never leaving the tankers, “so you didn’t just get a new job, you completely sold out.”

“I didn’t-”

“I don’t care.” Snapped the diesel engine, lingering just within grabbing range.  “When Greaseball finds out-”

“Greaseball doesn’t tell me what I do.”  Slick fired back, sounding far braver than she was.  Momma had made her brave, and months of not being pushed around had made her angry.  “None of you do.”  At this, it felt like both of the engines froze.  Slick couldn’t see Bullet’s reaction, but she certainly saw Lightning’s: how she stiffened, drawing herself up, eyes widening and nostrils flaring as her face twisted into something that was unmistakeably fury.

“Want to repeat that, freight?”  Bullet was at her shoulder now, and she could hear the thrumming of his engine revving up, though she didn’t dare look.  Slick swallowed, painfully aware of the trouble she could find herself in if she didn’t play her cards right.

“I only meant that- that I work for Electra right now,” she backtracked, scrambling for the words that could get her out of this, “as long as I’m employed by them-”

“Funny,” said Lightning, in a tone that meant that no one would be laughing “I don’t think that’s what you meant at all.”  The engines had fully boxed Slick in at this point, ensuring that she wouldn’t be able to easily skate away, and Slick braced herself for the inevitable threat from Lighting, and the painful jab at her side that would come from Bullet- maybe even a sharp kick that would leave her ankle throbbing and mottled for the next few days.  It was going to hurt, she knew that much- all her time with the engines had taught her that in spades.  

But circumstances were different now.  Slick had never been electric before, or been employed by an engine so disliked by her old yard.  And she had never spoken up against one of them before like she just had.  Later, she would curse herself for not recognizing how exactly things had changed.  Because though she knew what to expect from Greaseball, from the ordinary angry diesel engine, Slick hadn’t known to expect what came next. 

Wham! 

A blow to her head, smashing it into the wall.  

Lightning had hit her.  She had hit her.  

But she had never- even when she threatened, she hadn’t-

“Bullet, get her arms.”  Her arms were wrenched behind her back, Slick still too much in shock to actually fight back.  Her eyes were stinging- her face was stinging.  Lightning had- stars, Lightning-

“You do not get to forget us,” snarled Lightning, punching her hard in the stomach.  Bullet shoved  her down as she doubled over, and Slick was reminded of the day Greaseball had done the same, and Lightning had let her fall.  Then, Slick’s head hit the ground, and all thought fled as her vision whited out.

“You do not get to leave,” a sharp kick to her back, her limbs jolting at the impact where she laid curled up.

“You do not get to run from your fuck ups.”  Another kick, this time to her knee.  Slick curled up on the ground, hands desperately covering her head to protect it from the onslaught of blows.  She had known they would be angry, but she hadn’t- she hadn’t expected this.

The onslaught continued, a swarm of kick and punches raining down on the tanker as she tried desperately to protect herself.  A skate to the thigh.  A hand, wrenching her head up by her hair.  Somewhere, someone was laughing.  Then-

“Get away from her!”  A voice shouted, though Slick wasn’t sure who, curled on the ground as she was.  What she was sure of, was that suddenly there was a clatter, and the skates that had been kicking at her suddenly vanished, replaced with a hand on her back. She lashed out blindly, unsure of who was touching her and unable to tell whether or not it would hurt her, before her arm was firmly grasped by another hand- one with two fingers curled up.

“Slick, it’s Wrench.  Can you hear me?”

Blearily, she raised her head, and saw two blurry silver and white figures advancing on a blue form, pushing Lightning away from her as the third headed off the silver and red figure of Bullet further away.  She turned hazy eyes towards Wrench, who was holding onto her tightly, supporting most of her weight as she slumped against the repair truck.

“Slick, I need you to answer me.”  Wrench was terse in a way Slick hadn’t heard from her before. 

“‘M okay,” she managed, though Wrench’s grip didn’t loosen on her.  It was probably for the best- Slick didn’t actually know if that was true.  She looked around again, able to see more clearly.  Lightning was on the ground now, with Joule and Killerwatt standing over her as Volta skated up.  He must have been the one who chased Bullet off.  Satisfied that for now the blue engine would not be getting up, the trio turned towards Slick and Wrench, and Slick found herself faced with three concerned components.

“Are you okay?”  Killerwatt asked, Joule nodding anxiously behind him, but letting the security truck do his job.

“My head hurts,” she rasped, turning carefully to look at Wrench.  She had hit it at least twice- everything felt a little odd.

“I’ll need to take a look back at my shop,” Wrench said, and Killerwatt nodded.  Volta looked sharply at Joule, who was still staring at Slick, but neither said anything.

“Electra’s waiting,” said Killerwatt, “we should-” but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a horrible wheezing cackle from the downed engine.

“Oh, I get it now” Lightning was laughing from the ground, her teeth covered in a translucent black film.  She coughed once, and spat onto the floor, before striking the final nail in the coffin.  “So, which one of you is she fucking?”

Everyone froze, Slick included, and she felt Wrench’s grip on her tighten further.  She stared at Lightning, praying desperately that the engine would shut up, and that she had actually hit her head hard enough for the last few seconds to be a hallucination.  Anything but what the engine had just said.

“Lightning,” she started to say, trying to sound firm but coming out more like begging.  But it was no use- Blue Lightning continued on with a horrible smile, head lolling slightly as she readjusted to see Slick more clearly.  Her eyes were narrowed, angry but so, so cold.

“Or maybe it’s more than one of you,” the engine sneered,  “based on how you all rushed to her defense.  Tell me- do you pass her around?  Is that why Electra really hired her?”

“That’s enough,” said Killerwatt, voice angrier than Slick had ever heard it before.  Joule’s face was rapidly beginning to glow, and it seemed that the only thing keeping her in place was the fact that Volta had thrown an arm out in front of her, looking from Lightning to Slick with horrified realization.

“I don’t think it is,” sneered Lightning, still grinning awfully as she zeroed in on Killerwatt.  “Have you tried her mouth yet?  It’s the only thing she’s good for.”  Slick felt herself shrink into herself at the insult.  Wrench’s hand was still on her back, and at some point had begun to rub circles into it- grounding her.  Stars, that was the last thing Slick wanted right now.  Let her pass out, or float away, or just die.  Anywhere but here.  Anything but this. 

It was Joule who started forward first, Volta no longer holding her back, but Killerwatt beat her to the punch, darting forward in a flash.  Joule followed quickly, kicking one of the engines legs out to destabilize her as the security truck hauled Lightning up and slammed her against the wall.

 “Leave now, or I’ll make sure you don’t leave at all.”  He said quietly.  It was the most concrete threat Slick had ever heard him utter- a far cry from the taunts and comparatively calm warnings he had given her over the months- the security truck was mad.

“Temper,” gasped Lightning, “I guess I struck a nerve.”  She pushed off from the wall, and after a moment Killerwatt let her pass.  She did not even look at Slick to leave a parting blow; the damage had been done.  Instead, she simply began to skate down the hall and out of sight.  Killerwatt watched her go, his entire body tense.  Then, the components were alone.

For a moment, no one spoke.  Killerwatt and Joule were turned away from Slick and Wrench, still watching the hall, while Volta had drifted nearer to the pair on the ground, eyes darting between the four.  Slick could feel that she was shaking, and was immensely grateful to Wrench for not mentioning it.

“Slick?” Volta asked quietly, breaking the silence but sounding uncharacteristically unsure, “are- are you alright?”  If Slick had been a little more aware, she probably could have laughed.  Alright was probably the furthest word to describe how she was right now.  As it was, she didn’t answer the freezer truck, instead opting to stare at the floor.  This couldn’t be happening.  This couldn’t.  Everything she was scared of, coming out into the open at once.  This wasn’t happening.

“Okay,” Wrench said quietly, voice calm and even, “okay- we’re going to find Electra now,” She carefully helped Slick to her skates, making sure the tanker was steady before continuing, “We’re going to head home, and I’m going to check Slick over before anything else.  Clear?”  This last part was said to the other three, and she received a chorus of affirmations.  Slick heard skates nearing her, and carefully, she looked up.  

Joule had skated slightly towards Slick, mouth working furiously as if to say something and reaching out a tentative hand.  But as soon as Slick registered this, the dynamite truck stopped, and pulled her hand back sharply, as if she had only just realized what she was doing.  Slick’s own words- Never- don’t ever touch me- that she had snarled at Joule came back to her all at once.  She had told her that, ages ago.  Joule was still trying not to.  There was a pause, and then Joule spoke, addressing everyone.

“I’ll- I’ll go make sure she doesn’t come back.”  Joule muttered, skating down the hall in the direction Blue Lightning and Silver Bullet had gone.  After a final look at Slick, Wrench, and Volta, Killerwatt took off after her.

“Volta,” Wrench said, still keeping that quiet and calm tone, and Volta’s wide-eyed gaze snapped from Slick to the repair truck, “do you know where Electra is?”

“Yeah,” Volta nodded, albeit a little jerkily.

“Can you let them know we’re on our way?”  Volta nodded again, and turned and started slowly skating down the hall, periodically checking on Slick and Wrench behind him.  Carefully, Wrench turned so her back was to Slick, and guided the tanker’s hands to her couplers, and waited until Volta was out of earshot before speaking to Slick again.

“I’ll make sure no one will ask you about what just happened.  If you hold onto me, are you good to travel?”  Though she was now in front of Slick, Wrench kept her hands on Slick’s, craning her head to check on the freight behind her.

“Slick?”  She asked again, and Slick ducked her head, realizing that there was a question to be answered.

“Yeah,” She said quietly, not looking at anything other than her hands on Wrench’s couplers, “let’s just go home.”  She felt rather than saw Wrench’s nod, and the two set off after Volta.

It wasn’t until they were back on the tracks, speeding behind Electra, that Slick realized what she had called the compound.

Chapter Text

It was ironic, Slick thought dazedly, that the two components she had been most concerned about being hurt by were now the ones patching her up.  Well, Killerwatt was patching her up.  Wrench had gotten Slick to her repair shop and seated on a workbench, and then realized she couldn’t do… whatever it was that she needed to do because of her hand.  So, Killerwatt had made a reappearance, and was now the one carefully wiping a gash on her forearm.

They hadn’t spoken much, since leaving the depot; Wrench had kept her word, keeping the others from discussing what had happened with her and only speaking to Slick to check in with her about her head during the trip, and once back in the compound, usher her to the repair shop.  Slick was grateful for that, somewhere in the shell-shocked landscape of her mind.  Lightning had- she had told-

She had needed to lose her armor.  Now Slick sat in only her underlayer on the work bench, feeling like the last layer of protection had been stripped away and leaving only something small and smarting and scared in its place.  Her hands itched for something to do, or something to hold: Mr. Detonation or Mr. Clutch, maybe- they were soft and squishy and wouldn’t tell anyone if she cried.  Killerwatt had been gentle as he had carefully checked her over: apparently most of the damage had been superficial- even the bruises she now had on her back and torso would auto-repair without interference.  It was only the places where the engines had broken skin that needed to be tended to.  That and her head.

“Head laceration with minimal bruising,” Killerwatt announced to the room at large.  He had procured a packet of wipes and was gently dabbing at a cut on Slick’s cheek.

“Pupil aperture?"  Slick heard Wrench ask.  A bright light was shone in Slick’s right eye, then her left.  She winced, blinking the spots out of her eyes.

“Both reactive.”  Wrench nodded, staring at nothing, cataloging every report Killerwatt made.  She was seated at a nearby workstation, absentmindedly massaging her wrist.  She must have been hurting, Slick realized, though the repair truck hadn’t let on.

Slick idly kicked one skate, then another.  She felt numb still, like everything was distant.  Even her injuries didn’t hurt too badly, and she could hardly feel the sting of the cleaning solution Killerwatt used on the synthetic skin.  Fortunately, she didn’t seem to need stitches.  Unfortunately, she knew that soon this reprieve would end, and then would come the questions.  And the anger.  Always the anger.

Porter and Lumber had never seen the extent of what went on with the engines- they had never worked with them as closely as she did.  She was the one directly responsible for fueling the engines, after all- they hauled coal and wood, and only really interacted with the diesels when out on a job, or (in Lumber’s case) racing.  

She had begged Lightning not to mention their arraignment to Lumber when she found out they were going to become racing partners.  Lightning had agreed- the diesel engine hadn’t seemed to want anyone to know that her standards were as low as an oil tanker.  It had hurt, at the time, but it had been right after Slick had broken things off with Orange Flash, so she had simply been grateful Lightning had been in a good mood, seeing as her insurance had dramatically decreased.

Even so, Porter and Lumber had been aware that the diesels were a volatile lot.  They had heard them call Slick Greaseball’s pet oil tanker enough times to be upset on her behalf.  But she had always talked them down, convinced them that they were just messing around, and that this was just the business.  And Momma had never found out.  She… she hadn’t wanted her mother to know what she had done to remain valuable.  To try to get some protection, as flimsy as it was.  As easily as it was cast aside.

Slick wanted to scream.  She wanted to light something on fire, or cause another crash.  Something that devastated, so the entire world could feel how she felt.  She had been so happy, moments before, and now it was ruined.  Momma…

“Slick,”  Killerwatt had put down the small light, and was waving his hand in front of her face.  She had zoned out, she realized, idly swinging her skates and staring into nothing.  Wrench was still seated at the workstation, but had pulled out a notepad, jotting down notes slowly with her damaged hand, injured fingers curling awkwardly around the pen.  At Killerwatt’s inquiry, she looked up, both components staring at her.

“I saw my mother,” she blurted out, and she saw Wrench pause, eyebrow raising.  After a moment, the repair truck spoke again.

“Does she hate you?”  Killerwatt startled at that, turning sharply to look at the repair truck, but it made sense to Slick.  This was really all Wrench knew about her mother: the question of whether or not she still loved her.

“No, she… she’s proud of me,” Slick said, and found the words difficult to push out.  She had not cried over everything with Blue Lightning, but she might when remembering her mother.

“Proud of you? Why?”  Normally, Slick may have taken offense to Wrench’s confused tone, but as it was she simply carried on.  Momma was proud, and it was the only good thing to come out of the entire fucking stop at the depot.

“Because- because she thinks I got out, and that I’m doing something I love, and I’ve got a good job, and- and even though I’m electric she still loves me.”  Her voice was a little wobbly at the end, as her thoughts caught up with her words, but it was still true.

Silence, at her words.  Both trucks were watching her intently, faces unreadable.  Killerwatt’s eyes were flicking between the two of them: the only party here not privy to Slick’s fears about her mother.  When he spoke however, it was not the question Slick expected.

“Got out?”  Was all he said, voice lilting up at the end like a question.

“Yeah.”  Slick lifted an aching arm, sweeping it to show the scope of the accomplishment. “Got out of the yard, got away from everybody who thought I was just a dumb freight who could crash trains, who was only good for-“ she cut herself off there, realizing what she had been about to say and being unwilling to put a voice to it.

“Only good for sex?” Wrench asked quietly, and Slick nodded, tense.  She didn’t dare look at Killerwatt, for fear of the security truck’s reaction being what was expected.  Instead, she focused on Wrench, who was the most sympathetic to her situation.

“I’m not.  I can do finances, and I know all the physics behind the laws of motion, and I like reading legal contracts- I’m not, Wrench, I’m good for the other stuff too, I swear.”  She was pleading with the repair truck by the end of her statement, begging Wrench to agree, for if she didn’t then the others wouldn’t either, and who knew what trouble that would spell for her then-

“Slick, I need you to breathe.”  In Slicks desperation, she had missed Wrench taking a seat next to her on the work bench.  She nodded, gasping, and felt Wrench begin to rub her back, grounding her as she had before,

“Killerwatt,” Wrench said as Slick fought to get her breathing under control, “Thank you for your help.  I’ll take it from here.”  Killerwatt nodded after a moment, silver-shaded face twisting in a picture of reluctance before turning and leaving the workshop.  The door slid shut behind him, leaving Wrench and Slick alone.  The repair truck waited a moment, and then turned to Slick, pinning the tanker under her stare.

“Did you sleep with Joule because you thought you needed to?”  To her credit, Wrench’s voice was even as she asked the question, revealing no judgment, and Slick was grateful she had waited until Killerwatt had left to ask.  She couldn’t help but notice that Wrench did not ask whether or not she had wanted to sleep with Joule.  Once upon a time, she had wanted to sleep with Lightning too.

“No.”  Slick responded, not meeting the repair truck’s eyes.  She had slept with Joule because the dynamite truck had been the first to ever want her like that- to call her strong, and smart, and- and pretty.  Slick swallowed, hard, and blinked to banish the tears.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all?”  Slick asked incredulously

“Well, you’re an adult, your relationships- so long as they’re consensual- are your own business.  And you’re clearly traumatized-“

“I am not,” Slick spat, bristling, “I am fine-”  How dare she.  How dare she. What did Wrench know about trauma, standing there with her stupid fucking hand-

“You were so scared to fall asleep for fear of what we would do to you that you worked yourself into a cascade failure,” Wrench said, and Slick froze.  “You were terrified of Killerwatt from the start- you tried to get him to hit you.  I saw the footage of when you sparred- I know what you said.  The microphones aren’t great, but they’ll pick up screaming.”

Slick couldn’t move.  She couldn’t speak, motionless as Wrench teased every tell, every worry, every measure she had taken to protect herself, or understand her situation out, forcing everything out into the light.  The repair truck didn’t even look happy to do it- she had a weight in her eyes that spoke volumes of its own.

“You’re scared of Electra too.  First when you saw them again, and then when they assigned you to finances- I saw what happened when you made them angry.  I saw how worried you were when they asked about the contract.”

“And when you messed up the dataset-” Wrench made to continue, but Slick had finally found her voice.

“Stop.”  She pleaded softly.  She did not want to have to beg Wrench again.  Mercifully, Wrench did not continue, but Slick’s relief was short-lived as the repair truck spoke again.

“Lightning may have only mentioned sex, but I think I have a pretty good idea of what else happened with your yard’s engines.”  The words were damning.  Slick had no illusions as to what Wrench thought had happened- and how accurate the repair truck was, even if she wasn’t going to confirm her suspicions.

“They’re- you know how engines are,” Slick stammered, trying to save face, “and- and it wasn’t like it happened all the time- I just- if I just stayed in line-“ She fell silent.  Her excuses (for that’s what they were, even if Slick herself struggled to accept that) sounded weak, even to her ears.

Wrench was staring at her again, and Slick hated that she was able to identify the expression on her face as sad.  It was horrible, and Slick felt her face heat in embarrassment and frustration and shame.

“Slick,” Wrench said gently, reaching over to grab the components hand with her own uninjured one.  Slick started, looking at their hands, then back up at the repair truck.

“You are not going to be hurt here.”  Wrench said quietly.  Slick tried to pull away, but Wrench’s grip was firm as the truck continued.  “You will not be harmed for messing up.  Your wellbeing is not dependent on the status of your personal relationships.”  Slick looked away, eyes burning and blinking rapidly.

“Even when we all hated you, the kidnapping was it.  I…” Wrench trailed off, and sighed.  “I didn’t realize you would need that clarification.”  Wrench didn’t speak after that, allowing the silence to settle between them.  Slick didn’t look at her.

“I’m going to have to tell Killerwatt.”  Wrench finally said, and Slick whipped her head around, shaking it frantically.

“No, he can’t-”

“His job is your safety, Slick.  That includes making sure you feel safe.  I have to.”  Slick said nothing, only looked back down at her hands.  She heard Wrench sigh, before the repair truck spoke again.

“No one is going to look at you differently.” 

“You already are,” Slick muttered, staring down at her hands limply lying in her lap.  She had seen the way the others had snuck glances at her on their way back- even Electra, who didn’t know what had happened.  Though they surely did now, thanks to Killerwatt, and they would look at her the same way.  She looked up at Wrench, who was gazing at her with- ugh.

“I don’t want your pity,” she spat, “save that for yourself.”  She gestured to the truck’s hand, praying that the venom in her voice would sting.  Wrench straightened up, but instead of the anger Slick had been aiming for, she scoffed.

“Do you honestly think I pity anyone?  I’m concerned, Slick.  And so are the others.”  Slick didn’t respond to that.  What was there to say?

Wrench cleared her throat, finally turning away from Slick and heading back to the work station she had been perched at, her notepad still open.  She wrote something further down, then looked back at Slick.

“You don’t have a concussion, so you’re cleared to leave when you want.  Take it easy- no strenuous activity.”  

“Can I-” Slick stopped, second guessing herself, but continued on when Wrench gestured her to.  One good thing had come out of this stop at the depot. 

“Can I write a letter?”  Wrench’s eyebrows rose.  This was clearly an unexpected development.  But Momma had only made one request.

“To whom?”

“Momma.”  Fortunately, Slick didn’t need to explain her reasoning- Wrench seemed to understand.  After a moment, she nodded.  

“I’m sure you can.  I… do have a request, however.”  Now it was the repair truck’s turn to hesitate before speaking again, “I want you to consider talking to Joule.  You don’t have to- I’ll talk to Killerwatt about the letter either way- just… think about it.”  Slick didn’t verbally respond, just nodded.  A week or two ago she would have stormed out of the repair shop at being asked that.  Now… well.  She could consider it.

“I’m free to go?”  She asked, carefully getting down off of the workbench.  Everything still ached slightly, but it was a manageable ache.  She’d live.  Wrench sighed, and nodded.

“Wait a few hours before going to sleep, and if anything feels wrong find me immediately.  If your current level of pain increases or becomes unmanageable, let me know and I’ll figure out what’s wrong.”  Slick nodded, skating towards the door.  She didn’t want to be around other trains for a while.  That, and she really just wanted to find a sheep to cuddle with.

“Slick.”  She turned back to the repair truck, who for once looked uncharacteristically unsure.  “Just… think about what I asked, please?”

“I’ll try,” Slick said softly in response.  She made no promises.  With that, she left the repair truck standing in her workshop, and skated down on of the compound halls.

The halls were empty as she skated through them, headed back to her room.  Far too much had happened- far too much had changed.  She tried to focus on the positives- she had seen Momma, and Momma hadn’t been mad.  She had missed her.  She loved her.  And, despite what had happened to Blue Lightning and Silver Bullet… someone had been there to help her.  That had never happened before.  Even if Wrench was now convinced she was traumatized.  Even if (and it was a strong if, a very strong if) she might be traumatized.

But… Slick was tired.  Tired of being angry, tired of being constantly on guard.  Tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Tired of hurting and being hurt, and all the baggage that came with that.  She came to a stop outside her door,  and paused before entering.  Her mind was made up, and she had the first steps to a plan.  Nodding resolutely, she headed inside.

It was Momma’s words that encouraged her to rethink her convictions.  And it was Wrench’s words that led to Joule opening up the door to her room to find Slick seated on her bed, holding two errant stuffed sheep.

“We should talk.”