Fear the Night
Chapter 7-The Bionic Arm

Chapter 7: The Bionic Arm

Yukio dragged himself down the street as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept at all last night, and earlier that morning, as soon as the sun was rising, Maverick had needed help dragging the dead Drones in the alley somewhere else. Somewhere far from his trap door. If the Suits had found them they would have immediately began searching all over the alley, and no doubt they would have found the door.

While the two men had been clearing the alley, Isabella had fallen asleep, leaving Yukio to get food, water and supplies for the three of them for the next few days. With Maverick wanted, none of them could risk the Suits seeing him. His ankle was still sprained, and now his broken fingers needed to heal.

Yawning again, Yukio trudged his way down the street where different vendors and shops lined either side of the streets. Wheelbarrows wheeled to their places as he dodged them when they passed him. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he used the other to rummage into his pocket for money.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned and pulled his hand from his face to rummage through his other pocket. With another groan he stopped in the middle of the street. “No…money.”

He gave a grunt when he felt someone bump into him and spun around to meet sky blue eyes and a head of fire red hair.

“Oh! Pardon me!” a feminine voice gasped. “I didn’t see you!”

It took Yukio a second to recover from the young woman’s beauty before he finally straightened and remembered his manners.

“N-No,” he sputtered, wide-eyed in wonder at how he was able to talk to this beautiful girl. “I-It was my fault. I sh-shouldn’t have been in the middle of the street. I mean, I shouldn’t have stopped.”

He cleared his throat as the red-head only smiled warmly at him while he picked at the collar of his shirt, nervously. She suddenly held out her hand, still smiling.

“I’m Natalie,” she grinned and Yukio glanced at her hand then hesitantly shook it gently, afraid he would break her delicate fingers.

“Y-Yukio,” he replied, clearing his throat again. Natalie pulled her hand from his and giggled with a cute shrug of her shoulders.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you standing in the middle of the street?” she wondered with a slight frown of curiosity. Yukio slumped his shoulders, remembering his situation.

“I…uh,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I left to shop for groceries and my money is in my wallet…at my pad.”

“Well, that’s no good!” Natalie smiled then pulled a small purse from the belt for her skirt and opened it. “How much will you need, do you think?”

“W-What?!” Yukio squeaked and shook his head violently as he reached for her hands.

Without thinking he placed a hand on over the opening of the purse and the other on her hand. They both froze and looked at each, Natalie’s freckles disappearing from her blushing cheeks and Yukio swallowed loudly. He yanked his hands away and took a step back as she gazed at her purse.

“Y-You don’t need to do that,” he explained. “I mean…you don’t even know me. I could be lying about not having any money on me.”

“Are you?” she wondered, sincerely and Yukio frowned then sighed. His point wasn’t going to be proven.

“No,” he sighed again.

“Well, there you are!” she grinned and turned back to her purse. “Now, how much---?”

“Please, Miss Natalie,” Yukio cut in. “We just met two seconds ago! I don’t want your money!”

“Alright then,” she smiled again then stepped next to him and slid her arm around one of his as he stared at her in utter shock. “Why don’t we shop together and split our things up when we’re done? Then we can meet tomorrow and you can pay me back.”

“But, Miss---”

“Call me Natalie,” she interrupted with a smile. “I don’t stand on formalities. Ooh! Watermelons!”

She ran toward a cart piled with melons, pulling Yukio along with her. He stumbled behind and couldn’t help but smile, then shrugged. What harm could it do, as long as he paid her back tomorrow? He had an excuse to see her pretty face again.“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“

“Ow! Damn it!” Maverick growled as he tried to wrap a piece of gauze around one of his fingers. He sighed in a raspberry then looked up at his bed as he sat on the other side of his nightstand. Isabella was still asleep, and though he didn’t want to wake her, he sire could’ve used her help right about then.

He looked over at Faye, her cell being in view from where he sat and sighed again, staring at her as she slept. He had entered in the progress log that she had stood and spoken, though he hadn’t seen it, but he figured he’d write it in anyway. He also wrote in the attack on Isabella. He couldn’t write in one without mentioning the other.

The attack on Isabella sent him fuming. How dare Faye attack his guest?! And what was all that ‘Mine’ stuff about? He had a good mind to get rid of her before Lock-Dah just to get the Suits off his tail and protect Isabella. Mostly to protect Isabella. Maverick narrowed his eyes in anger at Faye as she slept and looked back at his hand with a sneer.

“Damn Drones,” he hissed. “Maybe I should just give up on it. If she’s attacking now, even with the progress she’s made, maybe it’s useless trying to get her back to the way she was?”

With another sigh he tried again to wrap the finger with the splint. Grunting in pain and flinging the gauze in frustration, he slumped in his seat. A groan from his bed made him sit up straight again and he shot his gaze to the bed. Panicking when he saw Isabella shift, he curled himself into a ball to try hiding on his side of the nightstand.

“Ow!” he hissed when he moved his broken fingers.

Isabella shot up straight and looked around wide eyed wonder. She heard some shuffling and turned a frown of confusion there. Her face softened to a smile when she saw the toes of a pair of combat boots. Her smile widened slightly and she slowly shifted to get up from the bed.

Hearing the bed creak, Maverick sneered at himself, but before he could try to escape, Isabella was standing in front of him with a warm smile.

“You look tired,” she observed and Maverick looked away with a shrug. He jumped with a start when she knelt down in front of him and reached for his right hand and noticed, “You’re coddling your hand. What happened?”

“Nothing he lied, not wanting her to worry but let her take his hand into both of hers. “I just…uh…”

“You broke your fingers!” she gasped and met his gaze. “You call that nothing?!”

“Well, I didn’t break all of my fingers,” he retorted, looking on the bright side. “Just the first three; and it’s not like I broke my whole hand.”

“You have a strange sense of what’s serious and what’s not too bad,” she sighed, carefully unwrapping the gauze from the finger he’d been trying to wrap. He winced a few times when she began wrapping the finger again but said nothing as he watched her carefully.

When she tied the small piece of gauze she was ready to move on to his middle finger but had nothing to splint it. She looked at Maverick expectantly but he only stared back at her. A moment later realization dawned on him and he reached toward the stand’s drawer but Isabella got there first and opened it to rummage through it. Her gaze fell upon the harpoon-like utensil and she froze to pick it up and examine it.

Maverick watched her intrigue in the thing then said, “I use it to fix my arm.” She looked up at him in wonder but he just continued, explaining, “It’s like popping out a dent in a piece of metal. Sort of, anyway. I push that through, pull the dent out of my arm and pull it back out. My skin fills in the holes after a while.

“What is it called?” she wondered as he took it from her with his good hand; the one that never got injured no matter what you did to it.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I never gave it a name when I made it.”

“You made it?!” she wondered if she’d heard right and he only nodded.

“I just found some scrap metal and made it,” he shrugged. Isabella nodded in understanding but cast her eyes down as Maverick put the utensil in his pocket. He looked back at her and frowned when she didn’t meet his gaze until he asked, “What’s wrong?”

She finally looked up at him with wide eyes but only shook her head and turned back to the drawer of the nightstand. Maverick wouldn’t let it go, however. He gently gripped her wrist, drawing her attention back to him.

“Come on,” he urged. “What’s wrong?”

Isabella glanced down at the hand on her wrist…the ‘fake’ hand. Maverick did the same and let go of her as she sat on her heels in front of him.

“My arm makes you uneasy?” he guessed.

“N-No!” she breathed with wide eyes. “I---!” She shrunk back before continuing, “I was going to ask, but it’s probably none of my business.”

“Go ahead and ask, anyway,” he smirked. “I’ve told you almost everything already, though.”

Isabella gave a small smile then asked, “H-How did you lose your arm?”

“Ah,” Maverick smirked again with a nod, “the question everyone dreads to ask.” He sat up a little more and crossed his legs in front of him, holding his injured hand toward her and gently reminding, “You can finish up with my hand while I tell you.”

“Oh, God! Of course!” she gasped again and continued rummaging through the nightstand, finally finding a pair of splints and more gauze. She moved a little closer to him and gently took his hand, patiently waiting for him to answer her.

“It was my first run-in with a Drone,” he explained as Isabella carefully tried not to hurt him further. “It was before I’d captured Faye, obviously. I made the mistake of letting my guard down while I was out at night.”

Isabella froze and looked up at him with wide eyes but he only smiled reassuringly.

“I’m still here, Bell,” he murmured. “I’ve got all my parts. Well, almost all my parts, right?”

She nodded with a small giggle then turned back to fixing his hand as he continued.

“Well, anyway, I was outside at night and a Drone decided to try and make a meal of me. Nothing too surprising happened. I fought it, it broke my arm, but I still beat the thing to death. I won’t go into detail, I’m sure you don’t wanna hear it.”

Isabella wrinkled her nose and shook her head to confirm his assumption and he chuckled at her face, making her giggle again before she asked, “But if your arm was just broken, how did you end up with this bionic one?”

“Well,” maverick sighed. “I couldn’t very well go to a hospital. The Suits would’ve arrested me for breaking curfew. So, I came here and tried to clean it up myself, but my arm got infected anyway.

“My old man knew a guy…a doctor, who was a friend of ours. He took care of me after my dad left and when I knew my arm wasn’t gonna get any better without help, I went to him.”

Isabella nodded, signaling that she was listening as she moved to splint and wrap his lest broken finger.

“Unfortunately, my arm was too far gone with the infection that he said the only way to keep it from spreading was to remove my arm. The whole arm. He performed the operation right then and my recuperation gave him enough time to get a bionic arm ready and put it in. That was about ten years ago.”

Isabella finished with his finger and smiled as she faced him and said, “Well, you shouldn’t need bionic fingers any time soon as long as I’m here to repair your cuts and breaks.”

Maverick stared at her beaming face with wide eyes as she only continued smiling. She finally stood and held a hand out to help him up. He glanced between her hand and her face then finally took her hand and she pulled him up. He staggered slightly but as he bumped into her he caught her around the waist when she staggered back slightly. He pulled her close as their gazes locked but neither one of them moved away from the other.

“H-How’s your ankle?” Isabella whispered and Maverick only frowned at her in confusion.

“My ankle?” he echoed and she nodded.

“You sprained it the day before, remember?”

“Oh, right,” he recalled then glanced down at the ankle he’d forgotten was injured at all. “It’s ok now.” He looked up at her again. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Good,” she nodded with a smile and they both became aware of themselves. Maverick let his hands fall to his sides, but neither one backed away as Isabella’s hands lingered on his chest. “Don’t use your right hand too much.”

“That’ll be pretty difficult, being a righty and all,” he smirked, holding up his hand.

“Well, if you have to write anything, you’ll just have to get either Yukio or I to do it,” she smiled back.

“That’s an easy choice,” he replied. “How ‘bout I make you my secretary, huh? You’re prettier than Yukio, so you get the job.”

Isabella giggled, feeling herself blush which she covered with her hands.

“How’s your ankle?” he asked, glancing down at it and she stepped back a bit to look at her bandaged ankle.

“The bleeding has stopped,” she reported. “I think we can take the bandage off.”

She looked back up at him and gasped when his lips planted themselves to hers. A second later he pulled away and gazed into her eyes.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled, making her frown slightly but she had no time to say anything when he said, “I’m gonna…go find Yukio.”

Maverick turned to walk out but his way was blocked by the very man he had said he was going to find.

“Please,” Yukio smirked, bags of supplies in his arms, don’t let me interrupt such a beautiful love scene.”

“Yukio!” Isabella gasped. “W-What are you talking about?!”

Maverick whirled around to frown at her, feeling a slight stab of sorrow but masked it by turning anger on Yukio.

“Kinda hard to buy supplies when you leave you money here, eh?” he began through clenched teeth. “If you stole any of that---!”

“I didn’t!” Yukio interrupted, going toward his and Isabella’s boxes to put the bags down. Maverick looked back at Isabella and she gave a small smile. He only turned to march after Yukio and she gave a sigh. She’d done something wrong, she knew it.

“Then how’d you pay for it?!” Maverick questioned as Isabella followed him into the main room.

“Ah, well…” Yukio chuckled then turned to explain his meeting and sudden taking to a girl named Natalie.

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