Scout had seen her fair share of injuries, but she never—never— let you get hurt.

Today was the first time she ever made that mistake.

A soft blue glow illuminated her sensors as she turned her focus inside the med bay where her pilot lay. You, her beloved operator, were unconscious, having taken a devastating hit by an enemy mech. It could have been lethal...but you were surrounded by diligent med-bots assessing your injuries, you were in good hands, right? Scout-5 tried not to appear as anxious as she felt in front of the others, but her nervous glances were growing more and more apparent.

"Pilot, it's raining," she murmured, her voice low and quiet, careful not to disturb the stillness of the room. She knew you couldn’t hear her, but it felt comforting to speak as if you could. She needed comfort right now, to convince herself that you'd be okay. She'd rather be deactivated than be piloted by anyone else.

Scout-5 adjusted her position, scanning the med bay’s readouts. She monitored your vitals, ensuring the bots were operating at optimal efficiency. She silently wished she could dim the harsh, sterile lights of the room and lower the temperature slightly to keep you cool, knowing how much you disliked the heat. The rhythm of the rain became a background lullaby, a sound she knew you cherished. God, she hoped you could hear it.

As the rain continued to pour, her sensors failed to pick up the faint signs of your consciousness. The neural link between you and Scout had been damaged in the incident, and now she realized just how much she missed the link humming softly with your aimless thoughts.

"Take your time waking, pilot, you need your rest."

She wanted you to wake up so, so badly.