Title: Sleepless
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Rating: PG
Length: 1300 words
Author notes: More giant robot crackishness~! Same universe as Cancelling the Apocalypse.
Summary: Fuu and Ferio, after a battle. (The knights are trainee pilots, Ferio's a pilot, but also head mechanic.)

oOo

Six hours after they got back, eight hours into the night, and Ferio should’ve been sleeping. Instead, he sat on one of the highest gantries with his feet over the edge and his boots swinging freely in the air. Far below him, Presea’s team were scampering over the two battered mech, plating opened, welders sparking, the screech of metal grinders audible even from this height. They were fighting to get their two mech back up to fighting speed as quickly as possible.

Ferio knew he should be doing the same, resting and letting his body repair itself. But he couldn’t switch off his body in the same way as he could shut down Silence. In the chaos, in all the frantic activity after the battle, it had taken almost two hours for Clef and he to get to the showers, and out of their suits. Two hours before the hot water had let the battered muscles across his back and side relax. He had been sat down after that, running over the battle with Clef and his sister, trying to understand what Zagato’s people were up to.

What he was up to.

By the time he got back to his room and his narrow bed, the bruising was showing; bands across his left arm where he had slammed into the rig and an impressively unhappy spread of dark purpling across his entire right side. He couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay still, let alone unwind enough to sleep. So here he was, watching as Presea lead their team in doing the job that should have been his, at least in part. But, for now, he was pilot instead of mechanic. Until they had the Mark Nines up and running…

(He would get down there and help, if he didn’t know that as soon as he showed his face he’d be chased back to his bed.)

So he sat with his arms folded on the rails, high enough in the shadows that no one would spot him, and watched as they ran repairs while removing as little armour as possible. After all, the less they removed, the quicker it could be replaced in an emergency.

So when he heard someone walking towards him, he dropped his head onto his arms and sighed. “I know, I know.” He grumbled. “Emeraude would tell you off if you left me here, more than your job’s worth, so if I could just go back to my room…”

“In truth, I am not sure what my job is worth.” Said a soft voice, and Ferio looked up, startled. Fuu knelt down on the gantry beside him, peering down at the activity below. “Nor do I think that the Director-General would scold me for your choices.”

Ferio rubbed his hand through his hair, winced as the motion pulled muscles down his arm and back, and laughed quietly. “Sorry. Thought someone had spotted me and sent one of my crew up to chase me away.”

“Does that happen very often?” Fuu regarded him steadily. “Are you often unable to sleep after a battle?”

“Sometimes. The adrenaline tends to wind me up for a while. And when you get rattled about a bit, well.”

She eyed his well-worn clothing: the loose pyjama trousers and oversized sweatshirt were slightly ragged about the edges with the years and the amount of times they’d been through the wash, gentler on his bruises than anything else he owned. They also covered up nearly all the damage he’d taken.

Nearly all, but not quite. She reached out, and her hand stopped just centimetres from his left wrist, where the sleeve had fallen back and darkening line was showing. She pulled away, face unreadable in the dim light. “Is that… usual?”

He considered brushing it off, but, well. She deserved to know what she was in for, didn’t she? After all, it wouldn’t be long before the Mark Nines were online. He turned to face her, and carefully pulled the sweatshirt up, exposing his side. She reacted to that, eyes going wide and her hands tightening on her knees. He dropped the shirt back down, and turned away again. “The suits are padded, but it’s never enough when you’re being thrown about in a fight. They’d have to wrap us up so thickly we couldn’t move to pilot.”

“I… see. Yes. …You are certain it is just bruising? Across the ribs like that, if there was a fracture and you took another hit-“

“Just bruising, the doctors scanned me front-back-and-sideways, promise!” He grinned. “That, at least, isn’t something to worry about. Pilots get the best treatment available.”

She looked down over the railings, watching the people below. “I suppose it only makes sense. The time and training invested in us would be badly spent if we were not cared for.”

“Same as the mech.” He watched, as the chestplate on Griffin was pulled back, and the light from the reactor spilled out; they must be running checks on it at the same time as they fixed the structural damage. Against protocol, but nothing he hadn’t done himself in the rush to get as much done as soon as possible. “But it’s not about the amount it costs. Or – it’s about what it costs when we fail, instead of what it costs to replace us.”

“But I think – is it not also what they stand for, and what the Pilots stand for?” Fuu said, slowly. “Giving us the best care is a way of expressing gratitude. And accepting that care, looking after ourselves – is that not the best way we can show our appreciation?”

“I guess it is.”

“…Then do you not think that you should go back to your room, and not stay where they might see you?”

Ferio blinked, and then stared at her, a grudging smile creeping across his face. Fuu smiled back politely, but there were laughter-lines crinkling about her eyes. “So you are chasing me back to my room, after all?”

“Can I not care that you are rested properly? After all, you and Ranger Madoushi are the two people who will be safeguarding my life, until I am able to fight for myself.” She glanced at his side, and her smile slipped a little. “…And I do not think that sitting in the cool air will be beneficial to your injuries. Even if you do not sleep, I think you would be better in your room.”

Ferio sighed, and pulled his feet up, then hauled himself upright – and she was right, the chill up here had stiffened him up again. “As you wish, ma’am.” He said, with a grin, and offered her a hand. She paused, but took it, though she unfolded gracefully from the floor without putting any weight on it.

“…If you cannot sleep yet, then – I have a library of games with me. I could lend you some, for a distraction, if you wished?” She offered, and Ferio held onto her fingers a moment longer than politeness would dictate, fascinated, as she blushed.

“Are any of these games for two-players?” He asked, unable to help himself- and her blush darkened, catching the innuendo, but she lifted her chin and stared back at him, eyes still laughing.

“Some. If you wish to wait and ask Ranger Madoushi what he would rather play with you…”

Ferio laughed, and let go. “Perhaps another time. But thank you. I'd like that.”

She walked him to his door, and ten minutes after she had gone there was an email on his screen, a dozen game files attached. He saved all of them… and was already trying to work out how to talk her into joining him, even if he had to start up group gaming sessions.

He was pretty sure he could persuade Emeraude it would be good for morale…

oOo