[ WP ] You 're a kid 's imaginary friend

I was whispered into existence. Light, grey at first and then flushed with color, filled my eyes, swiftly followed by the scream of awareness. It filled my ears, tore through the made up circuits that formed my brain made real. I blinked? Yes. That was the word for it. I knew the word, inexplicably, but it was there, mine to use. 
 
 `` Mechos?'' a voice rendered meek called out to me. My arms? Yes. My arms made of steel, covered in scratches and dents. I could see my paint fading, revealing the dulled metallic sheen beneath, but this did not bother me. How could it? These were my scars I wore proudly. 
 
 `` Tommy,'' I heard my voice call to familiarity. Steel veins throbbed as my iron heart pushed the black blood through my body. And all at once the roar of life filled my titanium and argenanium frame. 
 
 `` We're pinned down!'' he shouted, `` the Buggies are coming from the East and we're the only ones left!'' He was not afraid. No, General Tommy did not understand fear. How many battles had we fought together through the ages? How many times had we been, backs to shattered walls, nothing but a few rounds in our weapons and maybe a grenade, if we were lucky? How many times had we beat the odds only to find them stacked ever higher. Each of these times, he would always look at me, and smile. His face, lit with the thrill of battle, would radiate confidence, and I would see the unmistakable glint of a plan form in his mind. 
 
 I peaked over the couch cushion, transformed by Tommy's imagination into the rusty red sand and stone of Belavak ridge in a far away star system. As I looked into the distance, my eyes calibrating to see past the heat waves rising into the air as the 2nd sun of planet Ivimnalis beat down on the crater pocked battlefield, I could see the Buggies and their leader, its bulbous head, eye stalks, and spiked carapace towering over his minions, raise its battle rifle into the air to taunt the dead the littered his wake. 
 
 `` Surrender General Tommy to us and we'll let you live droid!'' its voice, garbled by the flange of its multiple voice boxes, seemed so sure, so arrogant in its victory. 
 
 `` You could leave me,'' General Tommy said, checking his weapon's computer to see how many bullets he had left, `` get word to the Alliance. Let them know what's coming at them.'' 
 
 `` Programming and logic engines aside, I'd never abandon you, General. We started this war together. We shall end it together.'' 
 
 `` Why did I bother to ask?'' Tommy laughed, `` Bang Bang special? I'll go first, draw their fire. You-.'' 
 
 `` It's my turn to bait.'' 
 
 `` Thought you'd forget,'' Tommy laughed. 
 
 `` You took the hit last time, sir,'' I tapped my head, the echo of metal on metal rang into the air, `` machines never forget.'' 
 
 `` Fine. On three, then. One... two... THREE!'' 
 
 I braced my left leg, activating the three thrusters in the lower section, and rocketed forward. I did not feel the wind whip past as I charged toward the Buggy line, only the battlefield transform into a blur of smoke and red as my eyes locked onto the enemy line that blocked out the horizon. Immediately, their ranks became lit with weapons fire. 
 
 I strafed left and right, dancing in between rocks, blown out tanks, and debris as I charged with reckless abandon. If I bought only a few seconds, maybe even a minute, that would be enough. Tommy never missed. My targeting sensors locked on a plasma bolt hurtling towards me. I dropped my knee joint low, the bearings whining under strain and lack of maintenance. I tucked my right leg back and shifting my center of gravity to slide under it. As I rolled back to standing posture, I threw up my last forward shield to absorb some weapons fire. 
 
 `` Now, Tommy!'' 
 
 From behind me I heard the high-pitched whine of his rifle charging up. *4 seconds till shield failure. * His rifle issued a sharp crack. *2 seconds till shield failure. * My side cameras caught the pulsing plasma bolt whip past. *Shield failure imminent. * 
 
 `` Tommy! What the fuck is this?'' the new voice was not that of the Buggy leader. This voice was harsh out of a malice that I could not fathom. I at least understood the Buggy leader. I understood that he fought for his people, that his motivations, while in conflict with humanity's, were not just to be bitter and spiteful. But this new voice held none of that reason. 
 
 The red desert vanished. The Buggy line fizzled and disappeared. The sounds and the heat and the light evaporated and the room came back as my hands turn ghostly. The furniture was old and worn and torn. Dishes were piled up on the sinks and the kitchen counter and the musty smell of reality came back with all too sour a familiarity. I turned to see Tommy stand up, his face unchanged as he stared at the owner of the angry voice. 
 
 `` I'm sorry,'' Tommy said, but I knew him well enough that there was no sincerity in the words leaving his lips. 
 
 `` I break my back all the goddamned day and your mother is sick, and you. You ungrateful little shit. All I ask is that you keep this house clean. Instead I come home to couch cushions everywhere, dirty dishes still in the sink. Dinner not even microwaved,'' shouted the new voice. I turned around again to see the owner of this angry voice standing in the doorway. His clothes were stained with grease and hydraulic fluids and clung to the sweat on his body. His face was contorted in rage, twisted by regret and resentment. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, *dad. * I'll go do it now.'' 
 
 `` I did n't want it now. I wanted it ready when I got home, you useless little-,'' and then the man advanced. His bags dropped to the ground, forgotten in his anger. As he did, I felt my body tense as my rear cameras watched Tommy's jaw muscles clench. The man's hand rose into the air, and with a snap, struck Tommy across the face. 
 
 Tommy stumbled back under the force, his head no longer protected by his battle helmet, his body no longer defended by his power armor. Another blow came from the opposite side as the man's hand snapped back to strike from the back. Tommy lost his balance, crashing into the coffee table. The man reached down to grab Tommy by the neck of his shirt. He breathed into Tommy's face, the odor of alcohol stinging Tommy's nostrils. My ghostly hands reached out to pull him back, but caught not even the air. 
 
 `` I swear to God. You ever forget your place again, and I'll get my belt and make you remember everything that I've done for you. Understand?'' 
 
 `` Yes, *dad. *'' 
 
 `` Now, go and make dinner and bring some to your mother. God knows you owe her enough. She's almost dead because of you. You goddamned waste of air.'' 
 
 Tommy picked himself up as I watched. My circuits crackled with what I could only understand as angry helplessness. If I had my gun. If I could only touch him. If I could only take my battle blades and sink them deep into his gut for every time he hurt Tommy... 
 
 Instead I stood there, a ghost. A reminder of what I was. My eyes locked with Tommy's. He shook his head and looked down once more before walking past his dad. I followed him. As we entered the kitchen, I whispered so that only Tommy could hear. 
 
 `` General. I could-.'' 
 
 `` It's fine. It was my turn anyway.''
