#p.s. robots are heckin cool af

[melodylandmouse]

Last week I think? Pom brought up that they had read something about lawyers jogging to help with anxiety and that they could see Benny doing that which I heckin’ LOVED the idea of, so I went out and read a thing about lawyers also meditating to help with stress, so all of that combined with the already existent headcanon of mine that Benny is made of pipe cleaners and duct tape (read: flimsy as all heck) resulted in me writing this little ditty.

Just a shortish one-shot that I’ve been calling “Benny Jogs to Taco Bell” even though a more accurate title would be something along the lines of:

“Benny Tries to Run from his Problems but is Harshly Reminded that he is his Own Problem Most of the Time (also Oliver is there)”

Contains fluff, doctors doing doctor things, and lots of robots being robotic. Rated PG-13 tops probably, fic below the cut, rip mobile users. 1800 words. Not the best thing I’ve ever written, but I still like it, so enjoy. I don’t think there’s any applicable trigger warnings since they’re all robots?

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Of all the unusual sights in Toontown, a backstabber booking it around the courtyard of Lawbot Headquarters before a trial was not one of them.

“There he goes,” buzzed a Spin Doctor to a Big Wig, both Lawbots’ glares following the lesser cog as he jogged by the entryway. He very nearly tripped over an invading toon on his way by, but he was too busy and she too stunned for them to engage.

The Big Wig scoffed and shook his head. “This case will not even be a challenge. I almost pity that shopkeeper.”

“Agreed. The rabbit would have been better off being represented by a pile of scrap he picked up off the street,” the Doctor added, turning his nose up. As they continued on their way to the courtroom, their sneers nearly turned to cruel smiles.

Benedict heard none of this. His focus was inward even as he nearly ran over that cat by the entryway. He didn't think about his ill-fated defense, didn't think about that openly-mocking prosecutor, and certainly didn't think about what was going to happen to his defendant when he inevitably lost this case… He had already taken the time to hope that some toons would be in the jury, and now he had ten minutes of nothing but last minute preparations before he needed to be in court, unless he wanted to be late to being thirty minutes early for the trial.

He had tried taking these ten minutes to update his will and say some hopeless prayers in the past, and therefore knew firsthand that this was a better way to spend his limited time. He kept his eyes forward, watching the floor ahead of him to make sure he didn't trip or run over anything, holding his pace at a brisk jog. Any faster and he'd be putting unnecessary stress on his systems. Any slower, and he wouldn't need to concentrate on keeping said systems in check. This way, he could just feel his pistons pumping at a constant rate, just focus on getting his oil flowing to every limb, just listen over the mostly deadened noise of his engine to the dull whir of his fans and bellows working to keep his components cool and clear, and of course just plunk, CRASH!

Benny didn't even have time to register that something had happened before he was on the ground in a dazed heap. That hadn't felt very good...

He groaned and sat up easily enough… He hadn't detected anything wrong before he had gone down, so perhaps it had just been some imperfection on the completely smooth and level flooring that had made him slip up…? He started to get up slowly, and discovered the problem almost immediately when his left knee buckled under pressure. He was sure he could hear something grinding in there, and, even worse, something rattling around further down his leg whenever he moved it. He winced. ‘Scrap...’

Rather than trying that again, he deployed his propeller, the blades whirling above his head just quick enough to get him off the ground and upright. He cautiously lowered himself; he could still control that leg despite the knee being what he could only describe as dislocated, so maybe... Yes, it could still support his weight so long as he didn't put too much on it. The moment he tried to bend it to walk, however, he nearly ended up on the ground again.

After several minutes of cautious experimentation that left him gritting his teeth, Benny was finally heading towards the courtroom with a stiff limp. So long as he kept that leg locked straight, it would support him long enough to take quick steps. Sure that rattling sound was attracting some stares, but it wasn’t like that was particularly unusual. He was used to ignoring them, and so just kept his eyes ahead and flew over the stairs rather than climbing them. He’d just have to make sure he stood in one spot during the trial, and hope his rhetoric was strong enough to keep everyone’s attention on his defense...

He was about to duck hurriedly into the courtroom when someone seized him by the elbow on his injured side and started dragging him in the opposite direction. Benny yelped as his leg was knocked out of its locked position by the sudden movement, but the grip on his arm made sure he stayed upright. “What do you think you’re—” His indignant remark was abruptly cut off when he looked up and saw a familiar Spin Doctor glancing down at him.

“Silence. You have the time,” Oliver said firmly, guiding Benny around the corner to one of the marble benches lining the hallway. It was quieter over here without the noise of all those other Lawbots shuffling into the courtroom. The Spin Doctor set to work the moment the Backstabber was sitting, bending the malfunctioning leg experimentally.

The grinding and rattling still made Benny grimace. “How come you weren’t in the courtroom already?”

“I was coming to look for you. You were late,” Oliver explained. He already had Benny’s leg open, the small bolts that had been holding the exterior plates together each falling victim to a simple twirl of Oliver’s fingers.

Benny watched Oliver work with almost morbid fascination; his favorite Spin Doctor hadn’t wanted to be a mechanic at first, but that hadn’t stopped him from becoming so well practiced at his job that Benny couldn’t even feel him plucking bolts and poking around his internal structures. “Only relatively,” he said defensively, but it had little bite to it. “And now I suppose you know why.”

Oliver frowned, reaching down into his leg. “I’ve already called Jennifer.” He pulled out a particularly large screw from the bottom of Benny’s leg and showed it to him.

Benny groaned. “Oh no, that really wasn’t necessary!”

“This is a support screw, Benedict, an important one. If the other falls out, this joint is worthless,” Oliver growled, nudging Benny’s nearly useless leg for emphasis. Benny flinched, glancing stubbornly off to the side. “You insist on jogging even though you know your structure cannot safely handle the strain. I am finished waiting around for you to break down every time you take a case, so Jennifer is going to get you some better parts and you are going to sit still long enough for us to install them.”

“So that’s why you keep sitting in on all my clients’ trials.”

Oliver carefully replaced the fallen screw, spinning it back into place with a flick of his precise fingers. “It is one of the many reasons.”

Benny couldn’t help but smile. He glanced back over and saw Oliver looking up at him expectantly. He slowly bent his leg. Oliver studied the working parts carefully, then stood up straight and offered Benny his hand. Benny used it for leverage, and stretched his legs. Satisfied that he wouldn’t fall apart mid-trial, Oliver closed the plates over his leg again.

“Thank you.”

“Just take things slow until I can get a better look.”

“I’ll do my best,” Benny promised with a small chuckle.

The pair headed back towards the trial, Benny’s hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

 ------------------------

“Are you sure this is an ‘improvement’?”

It was the most skeptical expression both Oliver and the Micromanager standing next to him had ever seen on a Backstabber who happened to be doing lunges in circles around them.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Ben,” replied Jennifer, the Micromanager. “Sellbot parts are the easiest to get even without considering that any other make would have to be imported.”

“They will do,” Oliver added firmly.

Benny stood up straight and looked distastefully down at his legs. They looked exactly the same on the outside, but inside they were all but entirely different. Oliver, with Jennifer’s assistance, had spent several hours working on fitting the barely compatible legs of a Two-Face chassis into Benny’s frame without damaging any parts. It was fortunate that Oliver had been up to the challenge, or else the upgrade may not have worked; although they were the correct size, fitting all of Benny’s modified parts in and around them in a way that wouldn’t cause any problems in the foreseeable future had caused some anticipated difficulty. Oliver was rather proud of his work, and knew that Benny really did appreciate the effort, so he didn’t mind quite as much when the Backstabber had scowled at the concept of having Sellbot insignias engraved into almost every part of his lower chassis.

“I believe you,” Benny said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying that I’m pretty sure that going from high quality Lawbot engineering to this is more of a downgrade in general.”

Oliver and Jennifer exchanged a look, but neither was about to remind him that he hadn’t been built with quite the same integrity as other Lawbots.

“I’ll admit it, I do not disagree with you there,” Jennifer said instead, pulling a pair of sunglasses from a pocket inside her suit. “But considering that you can jog to your heart’s content now, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the gags on this one. Take care, Ben, Oliver.”

“Take care,” Oliver replied as she took her leave. Benny just hummed, lost in thought. Oliver gave him a look. “What is it?”

Benny looked over at him, thinking about the new parts. And more specifically, how Jennifer had probably gotten her hands on them... None of them was overly troubled when it came to finances, but brand new Sellbot replacement parts, especially chassis components, were not cheap. She certainly had not resorted to petty theft to get them for him, at least not in the traditional sense, but that wasn’t reassuring. He had seen the alternatives land many cogs and toons alike in much deeper trouble than simple crime would have. “Nothing you need to worry about,” Benny said with a reassuring smile.

Oliver knew that look all too well. That affectionate sort of smile that he had seen older toons give their younger counterparts... He found it endearing and patronizing in equal measure. He frowned and shook his head. “As if I wasn’t the one just looking after you.”

Benny actually laughed aloud at that. “You can’t blame me for that! You obviously worry enough as it is. Like I’m going to intentionally bother you with any of my problems.”

“Do you have any more problems for me to be bothered by?” Oliver asked immediately, seeming to think that if he squinted hard enough at Benedict’s face that he’d be able to read his mind.

“Oh, let me get out my list,” Benny snickered, clapping him on the shoulder.

Oliver might’ve scoffed at that, but it came out as more of a snort. “Point taken.”

“Good. Now off you get, I’ve got things to do.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

Benny just smiled and jogged off into the distance. Oliver rolled his eyes and nearly groaned aloud. Of course he was going to break in his new joints.

And if that ended up being literal again, so help him...

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Thanks for reading! <3