Work Text:
Stone rubs at his dry eyes and yawns, blinking blearily as he turns to the dim screen to his left.
2:38am
He and Robotnik have been working almost non-stop since 8am the previous day. Stone typically had weekends to himself, much to the doctor’s quiet displeasure, but he had immediately given up his Sunday as soon as Robotnik called him with the news that his presentation had suddenly been moved up to Monday. He had demanded Stone’s presence immediately, but the agent was already out the door and readying his motorcycle. Stone didn’t have the best read on the doctor just yet, having only been under his employ for a few months, but it was the most panicked he’s ever heard him. He was in such a rush to get to the lab that he didn’t even question how the doctor had gotten a hold of his number, or when he had saved the lab’s number to his personal phone.
Stone wishes they had more of a heads up. He’s worked much longer shifts before, but they were almost always planned — missions and assignments, high stakes situations, adrenaline keeping him awake and alert, not… not spontaneous lab sessions where he sat for hours upon hours, scrambling to help fully assemble two combat drones that are due to be presented in just over six hours. The drones aren’t named yet, to Stone’s knowledge. It’s entirely possible Robotnik has chosen a name for his new masterpiece and wants to have a big reveal, though it’s also just as likely that he just forgot to tell him.
Stone can feel exhaustion seeping into his bones, and he can tell Robotnik wasn’t fairing much better than him. He’s never seen the man look more ready to pass out — eyes drooping, hands slowing, sagging back in his seat, but only when he thinks Stone isn’t looking — but they can’t afford to rest any more than they already have until the drones are fully built. Their only breaks have been to fill their empty stomachs, and regain some energy. The doctor had a twenty minute, very low energy dance break at some point during the night, which the agent slept through. At this point, the only things keeping them awake are an unhealthy amount of caffeine, extreme stubbornness, and the loud music playing from the hidden speakers throughout the lab, but somehow even that isn’t quite enough for either of them in their sleep deprived states. Stone’s eyes slowly flutter shut, and his head starts to droop toward the workbench.
SLAP
He bolts upright in his seat, blinking rapidly to clear his blurry vision to see a scowling Doctor Robotnik sitting across from him, undereyes darker than ever. Stone rubs his tender cheek and sighs. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Stop dozing off,” Robotnik growls, with less bite than he probably intended.
The agent smiles sheepishly as he returns to assembly, picking up the small screwdriver he dropped and tightening the tiny screws. “I’m trying my best,” he replies. “I haven’t worked hours like this in a long while so my body isn’t used to it.”
“You’re gonna have to get used to it, Stone. Don’t think this is a one-off thing — they move deadlines up like this disgustingly often.”
“Mm.” Stone sighs. “So I’ve heard.”
Robotnik leans back and groans softly, closing his eyes and stretching his arms back over his head. He drops his arms with a sigh, eyes still closed. He slumps slightly in his seat. Stone looks up and watches as sleep starts to take him over, doing exactly what had earned him that slap.
“I can hear you thinking, Agent,” the doctor mumbles. “You won’t be slapping m…”
Stone blinks at him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. His head lolls to the side as his body slowly relaxes, succumbing to sleep. Stone sighs and raises an eyebrow at the man. When he continues to lay limp in his chair, the agent calls to him softly.
“Doctor.”
No response.
“Doctor,” he calls louder.
Nothing.
Stone stands and leans over the drone parts so that he’s just a few inches from his face, hands steadying him on the tabletop.
“Doctor!”
Robotnik jolts. His brows crease and he sighs. “What.”
“Wake up.”
“I am awake…” He sighs again and rubs his eyes before squinting them open and promptly shrieking at the sight of his agent so close to him. He clutches his chest, eyes wide and shoulders trembling slightly with his deep breaths. “Back up, good lord!” he shouts.
Stone calmly sits back in his chair. “You said not to slap you,” he says. “It was either shout or kick you, and I’m not going to risk kicking my employer.”
Robotnik nods as he calms himself. “Good, you’re learning.” Stone huffs a laugh, and they both return to work.
After a few more songs play in the background and they progress through the drones’ assembly, Robotnik speaks up.
“I’ve–” He cuts himself off with a poorly hidden yawn. “I’ve noticed you’re more alert tonight when we’re conversing.”
Stone smiles, keeping his head down. “It’s hard to fall asleep during a conversation,” he explains.
He can hear the small grin in Robotnik’s voice when he speaks next. “Don’t be so sure about that,” he counters. “You’ve been in meetings with me. Unless I’m talking, they practically encourage us to pass out.”
The agent chuckles at that. “I wouldn’t call that a conversation. That’s more ‘being spoken at’.” Robotnik’s responding huff is almost imperceptible. Stone smiles up at him briefly before looking back down to the drone in front of him. “Did you have something you had in mind to talk about?” he asks.
Robotnik is silent for a moment. “I suppose I do,” he says quietly, hard to hear over the music, despite their close proximity, their knees almost knocking under the table. Stone looks back up at him to find he’s already staring. “This may very well be the lack of sleep talking, but I feel the need to know more about you. Personally.”
Stone blinks at him incredulously, then cocks his head to the side in question. “Really?” he asks him. “I’ll be honest, Doctor, I didn’t think you were interested in me as a person. You’ve only ever expressed interest in my work and skills.”
“Yes, yes,” Robotnik grumbles as he flaps a hand at him. “I’ll be sure to give myself a stern talking-to when I’m caught up on sleep. Just tell me stuff about you.”
“Well, I, ah…” Stone looks up at the ceiling as he thinks. He’s used to listening to people talk about themselves, not the other way around. He doesn’t know what to say that Robotnik already probably knows. After a minute of silence, he gives up and shakes his head gently. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know how to talk about myself.”
The doctor sighs harshly. “Of course you need help talking about yourself. Just–” He sighs again. “Okay. Tell me your name.”
Stone sits in silence as he processes the question. His name? He knows his name, doesn’t he? Even if Stone’s never told him his full name, he’d have to have read it on his file, or been told during talks with Walters.
“It’s… It’s in my file. You read it before I was assigned to you.” A beat. “Didn’t you?”
Robotnik rolls his eyes so hard that Stone worries he’ll give himself a migraine, provided he didn’t already have one from working for so long. “As if I’d remember something as unimportant as a faceless agent’s name,” he scoffs. “I only needed to know what skills and prior work you possessed if you were to work for me. But now it’s clear you’re not leaving any time soon. I should know these things.”
Stone can’t help but beam at him.
“Do you need me to hold your hand? Need me to go first?” he says condescendingly with a raised eyebrow. “My name is Ivo. Your turn.”
“Ivo…” Stone’s smile grows wider as he mumbles the name to himself. “I always wondered how to pronounce your name. I’ve heard a couple different pronunciations.”
Robotnik lowers his tools and frowns at him. “How else would one pronounce it?” he questions, almost sounding offended.
“Most people say Ivo, but I’ve heard a few people say ‘ee-vo’.”
The doctor grimaces and returns to his work. “‘ Ee-vo ’... Imbeciles…” He scoffs. “Now come on, Stone. Your turn. And keep working.”
Stone looks down at his now still hands. “Right.” He continues his assembly, reading the instructions before grabbing a piece of casing to attach to the drone’s inner skeleton. “My name is Aban.”
It feels weird to tell someone his given name. He hardly hears it anymore, only ever being called ‘Stone’ or ‘Agent Stone’ by people he regularly speaks to, all of whom are at GUN, ‘Agent’ by superiors and other unimportant co-workers, and ‘sir’ or ‘mister’ by strangers. He trusts the doctor with his name, though, and he knows he’s not the type to start using someone’s given name after learning it.
“Aban Stone… hm.” Stone glances up at Robotnik when he speaks. Under all the lack of sleep, he looks somewhat contemplative, looking off to the side. “Arabic name… meaning ‘clear, lucid, water’...” He hums. “Suppose it’s fitting for someone like you.”
The agent gives him a confused smile. “You know what my name means?” he asks.
Robotnik snorts. “I do now.” He gestures to the screen beside him, displaying a baby name site with his name and its meaning. Stone laughs softly and rubs his tired eyes with the backs of his hands. “Okay, next question.” Stone hums. “What do you do with your free time?”
The agent smiles down at the half-cased drone on the table before him, checking that the plating is on securely. “Ah… Well, I crochet, I draw, I paint a bit,” he answers.
Robotnik hums. “I could tell you’re an artist,” he tells him. “Non-artists don’t draw in latte foam. At least not well .”
Stone bites his lip to keep himself from beaming, smirking instead. “Two compliments in one shift, Doctor?” he taunts. He normally wouldn’t speak so teasingly to Robotnik, but he’s not awake enough to consistently filter his speech while also focusing on building a murder drone and staying conscious enough to answer coherently. He sees the doctor narrow his eyes at him in his periphery.
“You speak to me like that again and I’ll be testing the drones’ aim on you when I’m cleared to start field testing.”
That makes Stone blink himself back into his right mind. He smiles apologetically up at him.
“I was going to ask more about your hobbies but if you’re going to be like that…” Robotnik raises an eyebrow at him, looking exhaustedly unimpressed.
The agent sits up straighter and waves a hand to him. “No, no, go ahead!”
Robotnik returns to the near-complete drone in front of himself. “I was going to ask what you crochet,” he says. He glances at Stone. “Keep working.”
Stone quickly returns to his own drone. “I’ve made quite a few things. When I started as a kid, I mostly made plushies, but now I make more practical stuff. Mostly wearables, like socks and scarves,” he explains with a small smile. He doesn’t get to talk about his fibre art hobby with anyone else. “I’m part way through a cardigan. It’s taking forever, but I don’t mind. It’ll make the end product more satisfying to hold and wear, knowing I’ve worked so hard on it.”
Robotnik hums in response with a slight nod of his head.
“What about you?”
He looks up at the agent. “What?”
Stone smiles at him. “What do you do with your free time? What are your hobbies?”
Robotnik snorts derisively. “Take a guess,” he says, gesturing vaguely around himself at the technology that lines the entirety of the lab.
Stone shakes his head, smile still on his face. “Alright th–” He cuts himself off with a yawn behind his fist. “Mm, sorry.”
“You will be,” Robotnik mutters reflexively. The agent chuckles at that. He’s noticed the doctor mumbles that little phrase almost every time he receives an apology. It’s oddly endearing.
“In that case,” he starts instead, leaning back in his seat and stretching before returning to the drone, “can I– may I ask about how you got started in robotics?”
Robotnik sighs as he finishes the casing on the drone before him, turning the machine in his hands and inspecting it. Once he’s satisfied with it, he gently sets it down beside him and gestures to the one Stone is working on. “Give me that, first.” Stone looks up and carefully passes the half-cased drone to him. Robotnik snatches the tool from his hands too and moves his goggles over his eyes to magnify, inspect, and apparently fix Stone’s work.
Stone flexes his hands, now having nothing to occupy them. “So, how did you get into robotics?” he asks, slouching in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face.
He swears he sees the smallest hint of a smile at the corners of the doctor’s mouth, but it could also be the lack of sleep making him see things. “I’ve always loved machines, ever since I was a little boy,” he explains. “I don’t even remember what had me so smitten in the first place, I was that young.”
“I can see the passion in everything you’ve built for the lab,” Stone says softly. It earns him another tired glare.
“Save your kissassery for when I’m conscious enough to revel in it properly,” he grumbles. “Don’t interrupt me again.”
The agent raises his hands in surrender with a lopsided smile. He nods wordlessly to the doctor to continue.
As he speaks, Robotnik continues on the drone from where Stone left off. “I built my first real machine when I was ten — a little robot on wheels that followed me around and listened to me when I needed someone to talk to.” The agent’s heart aches a little at that. “While that was the first machine I built, I’d been designing since well before then. It was a matter of collecting materials and tools before finally starting on that first little one.”
Stone nods along as he talks.
Robotnik grins. “Ah, the amount of time and resources I used up pissed the nuns off to no end.” He cackles quietly.
Stone blinks. “Nuns?” He smiles. “Did you design while you and your family were at church?” he asks him.
Robotnik laughs again at that, but this one is devoid of humour. “No, no.” He waves a hand at him, eyes glued to the drone he’s finishing. “No, I never had a family to drag me to church,” he clarifies. “These nuns worked with the orphanage.”
Stone blinks again, the information soaking in slower than usual but quick enough to understand what the doctor is saying. With the realisation comes a wave of clear consciousness, feeling far more awake than he has since the sun was still visible in the sky the day prior. “You’re an orphan?” he asks before he can think better of it. He inwardly cringes, but Robotnik doesn’t seem to mind the question much.
“I am. Never knew my parents, don’t know if I’m the only Robotnik left or not.” He says it far too casually for Stone’s comfort, but he supposes the doctor has had his whole life to think and ruminate on the subject.
More time than he’s had to sit and think about his own family.
He knows he has a “sad, pathetic kicked puppy” look on his face, as Robotnik has described it many times. He can feel his eyes becoming more wet and his brows slightly creasing inward as they rise up on his forehead. He rests his hands on the bench in front of him, staring at the doctor. Robotnik can seemingly sense his sad eyes, as he glares at him. “I don’t need your pity, Agent,” he growls.
Stone shakes his head. “No, I know, Doctor. I’m just…” He sighs softly and looks away. “I don’t have any family either,” he quietly admits.
From the corner of his eyes, he sees Robotnik stop and slowly lower his tools. He moves his goggles to his forehead when Stone meets his eyes. The doctor stares for a moment, expression softer than Stone has ever seen on him, before nodding at him to continue, the same nod the agent gave him just a few minutes ago.
Stone wrings his hands together and looks away again, staring instead at the screen to his left that displays the time and a 3D model of a drone.
“I, uh…” He clears his throat, rubs at his face with both hands. “It’s not the, ah… same circumstances as yours,” he starts. “I remember my parents, I remember the house I spent most of my childhood in. My– My mother passed away when I was eleven. Some undiagnosed illness. Then my father…” He glances at Robotnik before quickly looking back to the screen. He rests his chin on one hand. He continues quietly. “I found him and his… note… when I was fifteen.”
He quickly moves on from that before Robotnik can react. “I was bounced around the foster system until I was eighteen, and I joined the military. I…” He blinks his eyes dry with a harsh sigh.
It’s quiet between them for what feels like forever, but is probably just a couple minutes. The music had been turned down significantly at some point, and the doctor has returned to the drone once again. When the song ends and the playlist starts over for the fourth time since the start of their impromptu work shift, Robotnik speaks again.
“I have one more thing I want to know for now, Stone. If you’re conscious enough to answer.”
Stone lets out a silent, relieved breath, and looks at him with a slight smile. “Sure, Doctor.”
Robotnik doesn’t look up. His goggles are back over his eyes. “You’ve lasted much longer than any other assistant I’ve ever had assigned to me,” he says. “Before you, the longest anyone had stayed was fifty-one days and four hours. But you , you’ve been here for…” He trails off to look at the screen beside them, blinking at the brightness of the screen as he reads the time and date. “... one hundred and seventy-eight days, twenty hours, and three minutes. Nearly six months.” He looks at Stone. “Why?”
Stone frowns. “Why what?” he asks. “Why have I stayed?”
“Precisely. I’ve never had an assistant willingly stay.” Robotnik points a screwdriver at him. “I know Walters has given you outs, and you’ve turned them all down to continue your work here. I want to know why that is.”
Stone’s frown is slowly replaced by a soft, tired smile. “I don’t know what you want me to say, other than that I just enjoy it here,” he says. “I know it’s not for most people, but I really do like the work. It’s a nice change of pace from the constant field work I was doing before this.”
Robotnik nods and smirks. “You probably like the scary dog privilege you have now too, don’t you?” he asks with a chuckle.
The agent cocks his head to the side. “‘Scary dog privilege’?”
“People are scared of me so they stay away unless it’s necessary to talk to me. By association, they’re now scared of you too, or at least wary,” the doctor clarifies.
Stone can’t help but laugh at that. “Ah, well it’s certainly a perk of the job, sure. People do give me a bit of a wider berth when I’m in the halls or cafeteria, it’s pretty nice. But I also just like being around you, Doctor,” he confesses. “I like your attitude.”
Robotnik’s hands still again, in the middle of polishing the drone. He stays statue-still for a good half minute before whipping his head up to stare incredulously at Stone and moving his goggles up on his forehead again. He blinks several times as he looks at him. After another half minute of staring, he finally shakes his head and finishes with the drone, setting it carefully aside with its sibling. “I’m not awake enough to unpack whatever the hell you just said,” he mumbles, leaning back in his seat with a great sigh.
Stone, feeling very tired again after that conversation, smiles at him. “Thank you for letting me stay for so long. It’s an honour.”
Robotnik groans up at the ceiling and slumps down in the chair. “I thought I told you to save the ass kissing for when I’m fully conscious, Stone,” he mutters with no real heat. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, tossing his goggles onto the workbench and shucking off his coat. “We’re finally finished with these two little monsters.” He glares weakly at the drones. “Only took us…” He looks at the time on the screen and sighs, “nineteen hours and twenty-two minutes.”
Stone smiles at him, body protesting the fact that he’s still awake now that work is done. “I’m proud of us,” he tells the doctor.
Robotnik’s face doesn’t change. “I’m too fucking tired to feel pride right now,” he says bluntly, words slightly slurring. He quickly enters a command into his gloves before practically ripping them off and tossing them to the side to be found later. “I’ve set an alarm for 7am. Pass out wherever you want, I don’t care.” He crosses his arms on the bench and buries his face into the crook of an elbow.
Stone nods. He sluggishly takes off his jacket and loosens his tie, folding his jacket to lay on the bench to act as the world’s thinnest pillow. Before he can lay his head down, a question pops into his tired mind. He crosses his arms over his jacket and looks to the doctor.
“May I ask one more question before we sleep?” he asks softly, immediately regretting it when Robotnik lets out a loud, long-suffering groan and somehow slumps even further into his seat and arms.
“Whaaat.”
“I–” Stone shakes his head. “Never mi–”
“Christ, Stone, just ask it.”
Stone clears his throat. “I, uh, was just wondering if… if you had a name for the drones yet, seeing as you’re presenting them in the morning?”
Robotnik stays silent. Maybe he fell asleep before he could finish the question. Stone lays his head on his arms, nearly mirroring the doctor’s position, and jumps slightly when he hears his slurred, gruff voice finally respond.
“I’ve been calling ‘em ‘Badniks’ in my mind, as a placeholder, but… ’s grown on me.” Stone smiles and hums at that. “So they’re Badniks.”
“I like that.”
“‘Course you do, you damn groupie.”
Stone huffs a weak laugh and closes his eyes. “You’ll be more comfortable if you sleep flat on the ground,” he mumbles softly.
“Moving means less sleep. You yapping a mere foot from my head means less sleep.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Stone whispers. He smiles at the near silent “you will be” the doctor whispers to himself. “Sleep well, Doctor.”
“You know we won’t,” Robotnik grumbles, sounding on the verge of sleep. “Be ready for extreme back pain when we wake, Stone.”
The agent huffs a single light chuckle and nuzzles his face into his arms. “G’night…”
He doesn’t know if he gets a response, passing out just as the word leaves his lips.