"Ah shit. Didn't know dead cybernetics could hurt this much."

The kitchen light was one of those shitty cold-white LEDs someone bought on discount, flickering in a way that made the whole place feel like you were standing inside an overworked fridge. Luxy sat at the table with her wrecked cyberarm propped on a dish towel, the MIKE casing split open by overheating, the inner capacitor housing warped from the microwave discharge she'd forced through it. She looked like hell. Bruised, pale. And her eyes? Red - from more than just exhaustion.

Jules sat across from her, sleeves rolled up on her all-black leather jacket, hands steady even though her jaw shivered every time she hit a dead end inside Luxy's arm. The kitchen smelled faintly of ramen broth, empty mug on the counter still steaming. Next to the toaster was a tiny trans flag sticker half peeled off, curling at the edges - almost like it was as tired as the house's occupants.

Luxy kept her gaze on the table, fingers tapping uselessly against the metal. "It jammed up when I fired the pulse," she murmured. Her voice came out thin, scraped raw. "Didn't know it'd-"

"Explode?" Jules cut in, soft but sharp. She wasn't angry at Luxy. Rather, she was angry at the situation, at the world that kept handing her partner broken things and expecting her to fix them. The MIKE sparked weakly under her fingers. She recoiled, hissed, then leaned in again. "It's fried, babe. Not even scavengers would be able to salvage this."

Luxy exhaled heavily. "I didn't have a choice."

Jules paused her work. Silence ensued. That kind of stillness that came right before she said something painful.

"I know," she said quietly. "I know you didn't. You never do. But tell me anyway."

Luxy swallowed. The kitchen clock ticked once, seemingly judging her.

"So there was a dude. He had Void pinned," Luxy said. "I thought- I thought she was gonna die. He had a gun right against her face. And I was drunk, Julie. Not just buzzed. I almost couldn't aim."

Jules flinched at the word "pinned." Her hand tightened around the edge of the table. Shadows under her eyes deepened. When she finally spoke, her voice was controlled, careful.

"So you fired."

"Yeah."

"Full power?"

Luxy nodded, shame flickering across her expression. "He wasn't getting off her. I didn't know what else to do."

Jules let out a sigh that carried years of unspoken history. She leaned back in her chair, hands resting limp on her thighs. "And Void? she asked.

"She's alive," Luxy answered, rubbing her forehead. "Barely. She... Walked away. Kind of..."

Jules looked at the MIKE arm again - the cracked emitter, the scorch marks along Luxy's sleeve, the melted insulation. Her gaze softened, but her mouth stayed tense.

"You could've died," she said.

Luxy shrugged like dying was a mild scheduling inconvenience. "She was gonna. I just... Did something about it. Couldn't let her die. She's counting on me."

Jules hated that. Hated that Luxy always carried the instinct to take the bullet first. Hated that she recognized it too well. It was the same reflex carved into her own bones: protect, protect, protect, even if it leaves you bleeding on the floor afterward.

She tapped the MIKE with a screwdriver, the metal clicking like a metronome for her irritation. "This is beyond me," Jules admitted. "You need someone who built it in the first place."

Luxy didn't answer.

Jules looked up, expression shifting. "Don't say it," she warned.

Luxy lifted her hands. "I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

"I mean-"

Jules's eyes narrowed. "Luce."

Luxy exhaled like a deflating balloon. "...Keira would know how to fix it."

The screwdriver clattered onto the table, loud enough that Luxy flinched.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Jules stood up, pacing once, hands in her hair. "You want to bring her into this? Into our home?"

"She built the damn thing. At my request."

"And she's a nightmare."

Luxy gave a helpless half-shrug. "Only sometimes."

"Lux, she threatened to 'rearrange my jaw structure' last time she saw me."

"You did call her eyeliner a defensive mechanism. You asked for it."

"Because it is!" Jules threw her hands up. "She's aggressive, she's territorial, she can't even handle jokes. She's- she's Keira!"

Luxy pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning. "Julie, I can't fix this on my own. And you can't either. The MIKE is half-melted. And Void-" Her voice broke on the name, "Void needs me functioning."

That softened Jules in an instant. Perhaps too instantly.

She sat back down, grabbing Luxy's hand with both of hers, grounding her. "I know you care about her," Jules murmured. "I know what she means to you. What she's done for you. I'm not saying 'no' because I don't get it."

Luxy blinked hard, lashes wet. "Then why-"

"Because Keira's anything but gentle," Jules said. "Not with you, not with me, not with anyone who isn't in her inner circle. And even then? She's a fucking landmine. She loves like a shotgun. She defends like a rabid wolf. I don't want her exploding all over you because she might think you're reckless."

Luxy gave a broken little laugh. "I am reckless."

Jules squeezed her hand until her knuckles whitened. "Not like that. You care too much. She bulldozes everything. You run into burning buildings. It's a disaster waiting to happen."

Luxy sighed, feeling smaller. "Jules. I-"

"No." Jules stood again, pacing slower this time. "You get her involved and she'll take over. She'll tell you what you did wrong. She'll yell. She'll judge. She'll-" Jules's throat tightened, the word snagging. "-she'll make you feel like you deserve whatever you got."

That one was personal.

Luxy rose and crossed the room, placing her functioning hand on Jules's shoulder gently. "Hey. Look at me."

And Jules reluctantly did.

"I'm not going back to that," Luxy whispered. "And Keira isn't that."

Jules's jaw clenched. "...she could be."

Luxy smiled, tired and sad. "Maybe. After all I fucked her over all those years ago. But right now? I don't need her yelling. I just need her tools."

Jules huffed. "Her tools come attached to her attitude."

Luxy snorted. "Yeah, well. Worst case scenario, I keep the arm behind my back and tell her she looks pretty today."

Jules tried her absolute best not to smile. Failed - just a bit.

Then her expression shifted, eyes sharpening with something instinctual - like she heard thunder miles away.

"...If she steps in here," Jules murmured, "I swear to god, Lux. I won't let her talk down to you."

Luxy opened her mouth to reply. The moment was broken by a loud noise. A vibration. Not from Luxy's phone - from the front door.

Not a knock - a hit.

The metal frame groaned low, like it had been struck by something heavy.

Luxy and Jules froze.

Second hit. This time, harder.

Jules's posture shifted instantly into fight-mode - feet planted, shoulders squared, breath silent.

Luxy whispered, "You locked it, right?"

Another impact answered for her.

And from the hall, through the thin prefab wall, a familiar, furious voice snapped like cracked glass:

"You have 30 seconds before I blow this fucking hole up. Open. The. Door."