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“You know, you are allowed to take a night off here and there.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, flipping Volt off effortlessly without looking up from the toolbox. “Volt, we’ve been over this. The further behind I fall on the maintenance, the more difficult it gets to keep this place going. And we can’t afford to have this place not going. Not - not now.”
Volt hops up onto the bar, lazily swishing a cocktail in one hand. “It’s not as though you have to do all this by yourself, though, is it?”
“Right, because you’re so good at changing lightbulbs and nailing down floorboards.”
“I’m sure I could be, but I wasn’t referring to myself.” Volt smirks, holding his glass out so a drip of condensation falls onto Eddie’s forehead. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed our live wire helping out behind the bar when we’re graced with their presence.”
Eddie bats irritably at Volt’s leg as a blush spreads across his face. “I - you - shut up, Volt, that’s none of your business!”
“Oh, isn’t it?” Volt’s expressions softens the way it only ever does for Eddie. “I’m not allowed to notice that you look better than you have for a long, long time? Surely we can’t chalk that entirely up to the recent power reset, can we?”
Eddie stands from where he’s been crouched over the floorboards, leaning back and exhaling loudly. He reaches a hand out, eyes closed, and Volt places the drink into his hand. Eddie drains it in one go, absently slamming the glass upside-down on the bar.
“Listen, I . . . you . . . might . . . have been . . . right.”
Volt’s eyes widen, and he smirks as he hops off the bar. “Come again?”
Eddie’s blush only deepens. “You heard.”
“No, I don’t think I did, Eddie, tell me again?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, turning as Volt settles his hands on his waist and pulls him a little closer. “You were right, you insufferable little -”
Before he can finish his sentence, Dorian appears at the doorway to the Breaker Box. Eddie pulls out of Volt’s arms immediately, despite their relationship being one of the worst-kept secrets in the entire house. “For amp’s sake, Dorian, warn a guy before you - what’s wrong?”
Eddie snaps from annoyed to concerned in a second at the sight of Dorian. The normally-put-together bouncer looks disheveled and out of sorts, arms firmly braced in front of him as though pushing on some invisible weight. His shirt is untucked, and there’s a bruise blooming on his cheek. “Dorian, you -”
“Intruders,” Dorian hisses, digging his heels into the floorboards. His head snaps to the side, like he’s just been slapped. “They’re trying to - it’s Front Dorian, they have - I can’t - you have to shut the -”
Dorian’s left arm drops to his side abruptly, like it’s been wrenched out of its socket. “I can’t - I have to concentrate on the front - but if they get in, they’ll be looking for - the human might have an alarm system, they might come for -”
“The power,” Volt breathes. “They’ll try to shut off the power, so the alarm can’t go off.”
“Does the human even have an alarm outside of Arma?”
“Does it matter?” Dorian snaps. He’s looking worse by the minute. “It only matters what they think! I can’t hold here - much longer - you have to -”
Dorian is gone between one blink and the next, and Eddie is at the Breaker Box doors in an instant. The locks aren’t great, since there aren’t truly any safety concerns, but he does them all anyway, dragging some of the stools over to block the doorway even further.
“Hope Dorian forgives me for cramming all this shit on him, but I think if it’s in the name of security he won’t mind.”
“Do you think they’re really going to cut the power?” Volt asks. “Eddie, if they do that -”
“It’ll be fine, Volt. It’ll just be another power reset. I brought you back once, I can bring you back again.”
“This is quite a bit different than an intentional reset and you know that! If they damage the Breaker Box in any way, you could be -”
“You don’t think I know that?!” Eddie snaps. He whirls around, fuming; anyone other than Volt wouldn’t be able to read the sheer terror roiling just beneath his anger, but Volt is no ordinary object. “I can’t dwell on that, Volt! The only thing that matters is keeping them out for as long as I can. If they try to cut the power, we stop them. If they shut us down, the live wire will boot us back up and I’ll bring you back!”
“Eddie, if I can’t come back this time -”
“Don’t say that!” Eddie roars. Volt wants to reach out, to say something to comfort him, but before he can, a resounding BANG! echoes through the house. Dorian doesn’t materialize, but the closet door in front of the Breaker Box shudders, just a little.
“They got in,” Volt whispers. Eddie’s anger melts in an instant, replaced by grim determination.
“They won’t get in here.”
“Pass me the gauze?”
You rummage through the medical supplies and pull out another white roll, passing it to Farya as she continues wrapping Dorian’s arm. Freddy comes in from the kitchen with some homemade ice packs made of the frozen peas you swore you’d eat someday, carefully placing one on Dorian’s bruised face and offering the others to Farya.
“It’s a miracle those are cold enough to work,” Dorian mutters, wincing as Farya presses on a particularly soft spot.
“Why?”
“Once they forced their way past me, they cut the -”
Dorian’s eyes widen, and he tries to push to his feet. Farya firmly pushes down on his uninjured shoulder, but he struggles more than he has the entire time. “Lemme go - Farya, I’m fine, lemme go -”
“What? What is it, what happened?” you demand.
“When they broke in, they were worried you had some kind of home alarm system,” Dorian says. “So they went to the Breaker Box, and they - they cut the power.”
It takes a moment for the implications of Dorian’s words to sink in, but once they do, you nearly trip over the medical supplies as you push to your feet. The Breaker Box - the power - if they’ve cut it, that means -
You’re up the stairs before you can blink, tripping over the scattered debris left by the unsuccessful home invaders as you careen wildly around the corner. The attic door is still firmly locked, although there are signs of tampering around the edge, but the closet door is wide open. Inside, the fuse box door is ajar, sparking every so often from a few damaged wires. You press two fingers to the side of your Dateviators, aiming the beams while muttering frantically under your breath. “Please, please, please be okay, please, please -”
The Breaker Box’s door is also wide open, with bits and pieces of damaged stools scattered everywhere, as though someone had forced their way through a barricade. You push inside as best you can, kicking the barricade remnants aside. “Eddie? Volt! Someone answer me - are you here? Are you alright?”
Electricity crackles, albeit far less intensely than you’re used to, and then a head of faintly glowing white hair pokes up from behind the bar.
“Live wire,” Volt breathes, voice ragged. He stands up, vaulting over the bar as you run forward and press your arms around him. He hugs back with no hesitation, gently resting his face on your head. You can feel him gently dropping kisses onto your scalp for a moment before you pull back to get a clearer look at him.
“Volt, what happened? Where’s Eddie? Are you -”
Your voice dies on a strangled noise as you get a clear look at Volt for the first time. His hands are singed, fingers absolutely covered in soot, and his palms and torso are covered in dark, wet blood. There’s even a smear on his face, beneath his eye.
“Volt, what’s - are you hurt?”
“No, live wire, I’m not hurt,” Volt says, wincing as you press your hands to his stomach and sides. You can’t feel any wounds, but Volt still doesn’t seem like himself. “Or . . . maybe I am? It’s - just - come with me.”
You follow Volt behind the bar, wiping your hands on your shirt even though you know the blood will disappear as soon as you take the Dateviators off. As soon as you round the corner, you’re dropping to your knees, reaching out to the figure slumped on the floor.
Eddie is propped against the back of the bar, clearly barely winning the fight to stay conscious. A dark trickle of blood leaks its way down from the corner of his mouth, but it’s nothing compared to the massive, jagged gash across his stomach. He’s got one hand pressed firmly against it, like he’s trying to will his blood back inside his body.
“Hey there, live wire,” he rasps.
“Eddie?!”
“And here was me . . . thinking you’d . . . seen me at my . . . worst.” Eddie coughs, spitting up a little more blood, and Volt drops to his knees on his other wide with a wounded cry, panting. It’s clear that although Eddie is the one physically hurt, Volt is feeling the repercussions just as intensely as if he’d been stabbed himself.
“What happened?! Dorian’s hurt, too, but it’s nowhere near this bad!”
“They . . . came at me . . . well, the Breaker Box . . . with . . . a knife,” Eddie says. “Wanted to . . . cut the power. Volt . . .”
“I failed you,” Volt says, gripping Eddie’s shoulder. “I tried so hard to keep them away, I - you -”
You connect the soot and burn marks on Volt’s hands to the singed metal of the fuse box. “You shocked them?”
“Not hard enough.” Volt’s voice breaks, just a little, and he pulls his hand back to drop his face into Eddie’s shoulder. “I should have forced them back - I should have kept them away, what am I for if not to protect this place? To protect you?”
You’re not quire sure if you refers to Eddie, yourself, or the house at large.
“I’m . . . s’posed to protect . . . you, dumbass,” Eddie says, tilting his head to the side to press his cheek against Volt’s. You take Eddie’s free hand in your own, clutching it firmly against your chest even as he winces with the movement. “That’s . . . what I’m . . . for, Volt.”
“You’re both self-sacrificing morons,” you sob. “I’m going to get Farya, right now - she should be finished with Front Dorian, she’ll know what to do, she’ll fix you! You’ll be okay, you have to be, you have to be!”
“Live wire, you . . . worry too much,” Eddie says, but he isn’t smiling anymore.
Farya’s prognosis is grim.
“He’s going to need stitches, external and internal,” she says, packing the wound with gauze to stem the bleeding as you and Tyrell gently wipe Eddie’s blood off Volt’s hands and face. “That’s not the concerning bit, though, it’s the physical damage that worries me.”
“That’s not physical damage?” Volt snaps. Farya raises an eyebrow at him, and he pulls back apologetically, but she just carries on.
“The damage to the fusebox. You’ll have to fix it for Eddie to stand any chance of healing up properly, but it’s possible that some of the wounds from that incident might linger. This is way more severe than Front Dorian, so it’ll take longer. Not to mention, you’ll have to pull a total reset on the power, and that’s -”
“Dangerous,” you say, watching Eddie wince and Volt’s hair crackle. “I know.”
“You must,” Volt says, batting Tyrell’s hand away. “Eddie won’t recover without repairs and a reset.”
“I don’t . . . know if I . . . can bring you . . . back a . . . second time,” Eddie says, frowning. He’s growing paler by the minute, even as Farya works to stem the bleeding. “If the reset fails . . . you might . . . lose both of us, live wire.”
You force back your tears and pass Farya yet more gauze. “If I don’t repair and reset the fuse box, I’ll definitely lose both of you.”
“Volt will . . . still be here, and . . . we all know he’s . . . my better half, so . . .”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Volt snarls, hair rising around his head like static electricity as his face takes on an unearthly blue glow. “Don’t you dare imply that you’re less than me, that this house would be better without you. Don’t you dare, don’t YOU DARE -”
Farya shoves Volt in the chest, hard, sending him reeling backward. “I will not have you upsetting a patient in critical condition! If you’re not going to be helpful or quiet, you can leave!”
“YOU DARE KICK ME OUT OF MY OWN BAR?!” Volt roars. He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him, tongues of electricity sparking out to singe little holes in the bar and floorboards. Farya, however, remains unmoved.
“You do want me to try and save his life, don’t you? I can’t do that if you’re in here blowing up lightbulbs!” As if on cue, one of the bulbs behind the bar bursts, sending shards of glass raining down on all five of you. Tyrell yelps and leans back out of the way, Farya bends down to shield Eddie from the worst of it, and Volt’s anger dissolves as he dives forward, tackling you to the ground as the shards scatter harmlessly off his back.
“Live wire, I - I’m -”
Volt stares down at you for a moment before scrambling off you like he’s been burned. “I - I should go, I -”
“Are you calm now?” Farya asks.
“What?! How can you expect me to be calm when Eddie is - when you’re -”
“I didn’t ask if you were unaffected, I asked if you were calm. As long as you’re not going to explode anything else, you can stay.” She looks at you and Tyrell. “The two of you are going to have to leave, though. Letting Volt stay for surgery is pushing it - I won’t be able to do my best work with an audience. Once I have Eddie as stable as I can get him, you’ll have to call an electrician to fix the damages and rest the power. I’ll let you know.”
You nod, looking at Volt, who’s settled on his knees next to Eddie as Farya gently eases him to lay flat on his back. “Take care of Eddie for me?”
Volt looks up at you, tears pouring down his solemn face. “On my honor, live wire.”
Before you go, you lean down and press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “Live wire, don’t . . . you’ll get . . . blood on you . . .”
“I already have blood on me,” you say, “and it’ll go away when I take the glasses off. Let Farya and Volt take care of you, okay? If you don’t let yourself get better, I - I’m gonna come back on all your days off and - I’ll never leave, Eddie, I swear, I’ll be the most annoying bitch you’ve ever met, I swear -”
Eddie laughs weakly, wincing when it jostles his stomach and earning a glare your way from Farya. “I . . . think you’re mistaken . . . about the effect of your . . . presence here, live wire.”
“I’ll look after him,” Volt says.
“And I’ll actually look after both of them,” Farya says. “Off you go, now. The faster I get to work, the better his chances.”
Tyrell guides you out of the Breaker Box, carefully offering you a clean towel as your tears begin in earnest.
“Whoa, there. Take it easy, hmm? Not every day you get surgery, is it?”
Eddie’s head feels like it’s full of cotton. He’s not sure who’s talking, or who they’re talking to, but he is sure that he has maintenance he’s supposed to be doing right about now. Volt won’t so much as look at a hammer without him there, and he’s definitely the better bartender between the two of them (not that Volt will ever admit it) and -
He forces his eyes open, and it feels like he’s trying to pick Wallace up. He manages it, barely, and a face swims into view in front of him.
“You’re back with us, are you?” Koa asks. It’s the first time Eddie’s seen him with anything other than a smile on his face. “I’ll go get Farya - she’s gonna wanna check up on you. Just stay awake, okay?”
Eddie tries to say something, but all that comes out is a hoarse croak. “Shhhh, it’s alright. You’re okay. You can go back to sleep as soon as Farya looks at you. I’ll be right back.”
Koa turns to leave, and Eddie forces himself to lift his hand. He can’t get higher than a couple of inches, but it’s enough to make Koa pause. “V . . . olt . . .”
“Volt?”
“Wh . . . V . . .”
Eddie’s eyes roll closed, and whatever Koa says next is lost as sleep drags him under.
“Thanks,” you tell Mitchell, carefully accepting the bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup he offers you.
“Of course, ma cherie,” he says, casting a worried look at the pale form on the couch. Eddie’s chest is rising and falling steadily, dark hair splayed out on the pillow. Mateo and Koa had made him as comfortable as possible, but even unconscious, he looks . . . exhausted. “Eat it before it goes cold, hmm?”
It is, all things considered, a very good soup - Mitchell is nothing if not talented - but you still have to force yourself to eat it. It’s hard to focus on anything else, when you’re so worried about Eddie.
The electrician has come and gone, assuring you that the fuse box is fixed and in perfect working order. The power in the rest of the house certainly seems stable, and Farya is satisfied with the healing of Eddie’s stitches, but he still hasn’t woken up, and there’s been no sign of Volt.
Not at Eddie’s bedside (couchside?) anyway, which you’ve been steadily refusing to leave.
You manage to finish the whole bowl of soup, gently brushing your hand over Eddie’s forehead before going to the kitchen to put your bowl in the sink. (This is mostly in deference to Daisuke, who gets anxious about the dishware becoming damaged if left scattered about the house.) When you return, you’re quick to drop to your knees next to the couch as Eddie’s face contorts, scrunching up before his eyes slowly, carefully open.
“Eddie?” you breathe, carefully taking his hand.
“Oh, great,” he rasps. “You’re back.” His words are at odds with the hopelessly soft smile on his face, and you feel yourself tearing up yet again as you lean down to kiss him. His mouth is dry and tastes kind of nasty, but it’s still one of the best kisses you’ve ever had in your life. He’s not strong enough to kiss back with any real skill, but you’ve never been particularly skilled yourself - it’s the passion that counts.
“I missed you too, live wire,” Eddie smirks, almost immediately wincing and pulling his hand away to touch his stomach. “Guess you didn’t do too badly on the repairs, huh?”
“I didn’t touch it,” you laugh. “I got a professional to do it.”
Eddie grimaces. “You had some stranger come and put his hands all over my club?”
“What can I say, I’m just no good at tools without my favorite teacher.”
Eddie smirks a little at that before looking past you, eyes going slightly distant. “Where’s Volt? I kinda figured he’d be hovering, too. Also, if you think I’m letting you live down this hovering, you’re sorely mistaken.” He must read something in your face, because his expression changes from cocky to concerned in a heartbeat. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t . . . seen Volt,” you say softly. “Since - since Farya was taking care of you right after the attack. I - I also haven’t really left this spot, so . . . it’s possible he’s elsewhere in the house? But . . . I don’t know, I . . .”
Eddie exhales, closing his eyes. “I can try to call him.”
“Are you strong enough for that?”
“What am I, one of Daisuke’s glasses?” You brush past the insult to read the hurt in Eddie’s voice, sliding one hand under him to help him sit up as he struggles to do so independently.
“I don’t want to lose both of you.” You carefully rearrange the blankets around Eddie as he groans and re-settles sitting mostly upright. “If you think this will hurt you, or - I don’t know, pull a stitch or something, you have to promise to stop, okay?”
“Not until Volt comes back,” Eddie says. “I - you just don’t get it, I need him, okay?”
“I know you do,” you say, taking his hand again and sitting beside him on the couch. “And he needs you to be at your best. Would he want you hurting yourself further to call him back when you could wait a couple days and do it without more harm?”
“Don’t fuckin’ use him against me,” Eddie snaps, but there’s no real heat in his voice.
“I’m not saying don’t try,” you say, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek. “I’m saying that if it starts hurting, take a break and try again when you’re stronger, okay?”
Eddie nods, face turning pink as you settle next to him. He absently rubs his thumb over your hand as he stares vaguely into the middle distance before refocusing with a shake of his head. “Okay. I’ll try. Will you - um . . . you . . .”
His voice trails off into an unintelligible mumbling. “What?” The flush deepens.
“Close your eyes,” he mutters, just loud enough to be heard. “I don’t want you watching.”
“Cute,” you laugh, mostly to see him blush ever harder and try to snatch his hand back from yours. (He puts almost no effort into it, and it’s comically easy to keep hold of him.) “Okay, Eddie. I’ll close my eyes.”
“Thank you for your gracious compliance,” he deadpans. You settle next to him, gently leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. After only a moment, you feel his head settle on top of yours.
“Come on, Volt,” he mutters, voice low and resonant where your ear is pressed against him. “Don’t leave me in the dark, you bastard, you fucking bastard, don’t you leave me, come on, Volt, come on . . .”
After a few minutes, Eddie’s voice trails off into silence, but you can tell by the way he’s squeezing your hand and trembling with exertion that he’s still trying as hard as he can to summon Volt. You’re not sure you long you sit with him in silence, gently rubbing circles in his inner wrist with your thumb, until finally, finally, he exhales like a deflating balloon.
“What’s this, live wire? Getting frisky without me?”
Your eyes snap open, knocking your head painfully against Eddie’s as you snap it up. Volt is standing in front of you, although in the blink of an eye he’s on his knees in front of the couch, reaching up to take one of your hands and one of Eddie’s.
“You absolute bastard,” Eddie growls, face softer than your favorite blanket. “Does it look like I’m in any condition to be getting frisky with anyone?”
“You underestimate our live wire,” Volt laughs. “I’m sure they could find a way.” He turns to look at you, eyes shining just a little. “Thanks for looking after this stubborn idiot while I wasn’t around to do it.”
“You couldn’t look after a pet rock,” Eddie says. Volt ignores him, leaning up to give you a searing, tingling kiss. Corny as it is, his lips on yours feel absolutely electrifying.
“Any time,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his and feeling Eddie shift to press his forehead against both of yours. You barely have to turn your head to brush your lips against Eddie’s, feeling the shock of Volt’s against your cheek.
“Any time at all.”