for-stexpress

[for-stexpress]

A Thing For To Make Tex Feel Better

“I want an expensive funeral. Only the best and rarest flowers.”

“Electra…”

“Have Greasebutt sing a song about me and make sure he sounds devastated…”

“You’re not going to die.”

“I beg to—ow!— beg to differ.”

Wrench sighed. She almost- almost- felt sorry for Electra. She knew he was probably in significant pain, but did he have to be a drama queen about everything from a twisted ankle to a stomachache?

He did look rather sad curled up on the bed, hands clutching his stomach. His hair was limp and his plating had lost its dazzle, and he sweated a bit from the pain. He clearly had no energy for anything but dramatics, and even that was subdued.

“You’ll be fine,” Wrench said. Normally she didn’t like babying Electra, but she couldn’t help but gently stroke his scalp. “I’ll get you something to feel better.”

She’d expected more drama, but Electra only nodded mutedly. He really wasn’t feeling well. Wrench was wondering if she should even leave him alone when four whispered voices appeared at the bedroom door. Krupp, Purse, Joule, and Volta were huddled, peering inside.

“How is he?” Purse asked.

Electra shifted on the bed, holding his middle a little tighter. “My stomach hurts and I’m dying.”

“It’s just gastritis,” Wrench said, rising to her wheels. “There’s medicine that can help, but I’ll need to go get it. Why don’t you all stay here and entertain him while I’m gone?”

They didn’t need to be told twice. The Components lived to entertain their master whether he was feeling lively or sickly.

“Some heat might help,” Wrench said to Joule. The dynamite truck smiled brightly and crawled into bed, spooning Electra from behind and gently placing her hands over his stomach. Joule always ran hot and it didn’t take much for her to generate even more heat when she wanted to. Within a minute, Electra sighed and relaxed slightly.

Meanwhile, Volta wiggled her way in by his head, rubbing his scalp and soothing his sweaty plating with her cool touch. Krupp found his way in bed next, placing Electra’s legs in his lap and massaging them slowly. Finally, Purse joined the crew in bed, stretching himself out so he faced Electra, giving him a sweet, tender kiss before gently hugging his master.

Wrench smiled. Electra finally looked better, relaxing in the middle of the happy polypile, surrounded by trucks who only wanted to make him feel better. He would probably survive the half-hour it would take her to fetch the medicine, she thought drily.

She rolled out, before quickly popping her head back into the room for one last, important instruction. “No fucking until I get back, okay?”