Karl groaned, a long, rattling sound that seemed to come from every fiber of his body. Sunlight filtered through the broken ceiling of the abandoned Denver hub, slanting across cracked tiles and rusted metal crates. His head throbbed like a jackhammer, and every muscle ached as though he'd been run over by a freight train. He tried to sit up—and promptly fell face-first back onto the floor.
"Ugh… ughhh… Agnes…" he muttered weakly, his voice hoarse and quivering.
A soft shimmer of nanites coalesced beside him, materializing into a full, humanoid form. Agnes's holographic body glimmered, perfectly solid-looking, even though her presence was still tethered to the Drive Regulator a few feet away. She tilted her head, those glowing, intelligent eyes narrowing with mild exasperation.
"Karl," she said, her voice both amused and breathy in that soft way he'd gotten used to. "You really… really went overboard, didn't you?"
Karl groaned again, pressing a trembling hand to his forehead. "I… I was just… tasting… just a sip… okay… maybe a lot of sips…"
"'A lot of sips,'" Agnes repeated, echoing his words with mock sweetness. "Twelve bottles, Karl. Twelve. And you expect me not to pamper you? Tsk tsk tsk."
She moved closer, her nanite body fluidly enveloping his side as she helped him sit upright. Karl sagged against her, swaying like a tree in a storm. Agnes chuckled softly, hands automatically massaging his tense shoulders, her touch warm, steady, and reassuring.
"Lean back," she instructed. "Just… let me take care of you."
Karl blinked, still dazed. "Care… for… me?" His voice cracked, words slurred. "I… I'm… fine… just… headache…"
"Ha!" Agnes interjected, mock indignation in her tone. "Fine? You're wobbling like a newborn foal. You need help standing, need help breathing, probably need help remembering your own name." She leaned closer, and Karl flinched slightly at the closeness, though he was too weak to protest. "So I'm helping. You don't have a choice."
Her hands moved methodically, massaging his temples and tracing down the nape of his neck. Every touch seemed to hum with faint energy, calming the nausea and throbbing pulse of the hangover just slightly. Karl let out a weak groan of relief, his arms limp at his sides.
"I… I feel… like garbage," he mumbled.
Agnes let out a soft, almost satisfied hum. "Of course you do. That's what happens when you finally let yourself go human for the first time. You wanted it, Karl. I warned you—but you went for it anyway." She leaned closer, brushing a hand along his cheek. "Don't worry. I'm here. I'll… pamper you until you can move without collapsing."
He tried to lift a hand to swat her away, but it wobbled uselessly. "Too… much… touch," he slurred, voice barely more than a whisper.
Agnes laughed softly, her tone teasing, not unkind. "Too much? Oh no, Karl. This is exactly the right amount. Your face, your hair, your stupid, fragile shoulders—they all need attention." She adjusted his posture, letting him rest back against her torso as she made a sort of seated nest on the floor with herself as support. "See? Comfy. Safe. Not a single thing you have to do."
Karl's body sagged completely against her, eyelids drooping. "I… I can't… move…"
"Exactly." Agnes pressed a kiss to the top of his head, her nanite form shifting slightly to conform to his weight. "Good. Relax. Feel how nice it is to just… be taken care of. For once, you don't have to think about survival, about Vythra, about overburn, about anything. Just… you."
A soft, almost contented sigh escaped him. "So… weird… being… weak…"
Agnes hummed in reply, a low, vibrating sound that filled the space around him, making him feel like he was floating inside a cocoon. "Weak, yes. But also… human. And right now… you're mine to pamper. You're not going anywhere, and I'm not letting you wobble around trying to pretend you're fine."
She adjusted him again, brushing stray hairs from his forehead and tucking his jacket snugly around his shoulders like a blanket. Her hands then slid to his arms, holding them lightly as if steadying a fragile artifact. Karl blinked slowly, overwhelmed by the attention, too drunk and drained to form words, only able to emit soft groans of acknowledgment.
"I know," Agnes murmured, voice softening. "It feels… different, doesn't it? Not having to do anything. Not even thinking. Just… be. You taste… your own first drunk, and I get to watch. And yes, I enjoy this. Watching you like this… it's… satisfying."
Karl's mind swirled, the room tilting in soft waves around him. Every sound—the faint hum of her nanites, the drip of rain from cracks in the roof, the distant creak of rusting metal—felt magnified. His body felt both heavy and light at once, suspended in a strange limbo between consciousness and oblivion.
"You… pampering me…" he finally muttered, voice barely audible. "Feels… good…"
"Of course it does," she whispered, brushing a hand across his temple again, massaging the tension from his forehead. "You're allowed. You're allowed to be drunk, to be human, to be… fragile. And I'm allowed to spoil you while you are."
Karl's eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion and intoxication pulling him into a warm, hazy stupor. He felt every ache in his body ease, every pang of nausea slightly settle, and every worry about Vythra, overburn, or survival fade to the back of his mind. Agnes's presence was both grounding and indulgent, an unspoken promise that at least for now, nothing could hurt him.
She adjusted him one last time, letting him lean completely against her chest, tilting her holographic head down to murmur directly into his ear. "Sleep… for as long as you need. I've got you. I'll make sure you're fine. No one's going to bother you. No threats. No hunger. Just… peace. Mine."
Karl exhaled, a soft, drunken sigh that wobbled out of him. "Okay… Agnes… thank… you…"
Agnes hummed in reply, the warmth of her nanite form encasing him like a protective cocoon. For now, the world outside—the ruins, the spirits, the dangers—could wait. In the abandoned hub, with the AI he'd come to trust completely, Karl could simply be human, drunk, and utterly pampered.
And Agnes… well, she allowed herself a tiny, smug smile, pleased with her work. She would let him wobble, let him be weak, and let him taste the fragile human pleasure he'd earned.
For now, that was enough.