TW: None

Song: Engineering by Rythian

Zoey was not working on the nuke when Rythian brought her lunch. In fact, she was nowhere to be found. Usually she was curled up inside it from morning to night, researching and tinkering and rerouting. He'd even found her asleep on the power node once.

Rythian put the mushroom soup down as far from the nuke as possible. He drifted a few inches off the ground toward her nook of wires, pipes, levers, computer screens, and loose paper covered in zeroes and ones. Her bronze wrench stuck out of a broken computer face.

"What on Earth...?" Rythian touched down and carefully freed the wrench. "Zoey? Are you down here?"

No shock of red hair appeared from the platform above. No bright voice replied, "Right here–Fishton, no, stay out of there!" Rythian's brow furrowed. Zoey hadn't been anywhere else for at least a week now.

He flew around the nuke just to be sure, then tried to quell his growing worry. There wasn't any reason to believe she'd been hurt. Surely she was somewhere around Blackrock. Still, when he didn't find her in the dusty, wrecked lab searching out some device or the other, he found himself calling her name a little louder.

He drifted up through the unrepaired hole near the castle's entrance. His scarf almost tore on a jagged bit of stone.

"We have got to fix that," he muttered, walking in the direction of the farm. "Zoey? Are you out here?"

She was, though she made no reply. Relief flooded him when he saw her just past the M in FARM. Or, HARM, now. He walked toward where she sat cross-legged in front of the old still she'd never gotten back around to working on. He still had the bronze wrench in one hand.

"Hey," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Zoey nodded, of course. Her yellow glasses wobbled and then slipped over her face. She pushed them up the bridge of her nose, all the while not looking at Rythian. He took a seat next to her, not too close.

"I'm okay," she insisted. "I was just wanted a break from working on the nuke."

"Break" must have meant farming, because her arms were covered in dirt. Rythian glanced back; some of the sugarcane looked a little scorched.

"Right. Do you–want any help?" He hesitated, because he knew he was a useless farmer. Still, he wanted to do what he could.

Zoey almost shouted, "No!" When she saw the surprise on Rythian's face, she went red. "No, no, I can do it myself. I know I can."

Rythian turned his palms up. "I know you can too. Do you need anything?"

"No, that's okay." Zoey leaned her head against a barrel. There were dark circles stamped under her eyes. It seemed without thinking that she added, "You've already done everything for me. I have to do this."

Rythian frowned, more at her tired eyes than her words. "I think you need more than a break, Zoey. You're exhausted."

Eyes closed, she smiled wide. "I'm fine, Ryth. You're such a worrywart."

His fingers tightened around the wrench in frustration. Why was she so stubborn? They could just wall off the stupid nuke and be done with it, but Zoey insisted on defusing it. He wasn't a worrywart–he had every reason to be concerned!

"Just let me help," he said, trying to keep frustration out of his voice.

Zoey stood up then, quite suddenly. She whirled away from Rythian, and he heard her mutter "Maybe the blue one...splice it with that..." He had the distinct feeling he was being ignored.

"Zoey!" He floated to his feet right behind her. "You don't have to do this. Obsidian is blast resistant–"

She turned so fast that her long hair whipped his face.

"I don't want that! I can do this!" She stepped back when she realized how close they were and how loudly she was shouting. "You've done so much for me. You and Teep. I can–I'm–I can fix this."

Rythian still didn't understand, but after those words, he was starting to. There was more to her stubbornness than a nuke and binary codes and a castle in danger. Her face was set, but her eyes were glassy.

"Sorry," she said. She was backing down again, face red. But she stopped herself and took a very deep breath. "You've done everything in the world for me. I want to show you I can do everything in the world for you. You protect me, so I want to protect you for once."

She wanted to protect him. Rythian felt something warm well up in his chest. He took a small step forward and, when she didn't pull away, touched her shoulder.

"You've done so much for me already."

Zoey gave a strained smile. Rythian hooked the wrench into his belt so he could hold her tanned, tired face between his hands. He pushed the glasses away from her eyes.

"Believe me, Zoey. You have done so much."

She held on to his arms. "I don't feel like it. You've made all these cool, amazing things like flying rings and awesome armor, and I can't even fix a nuke."

"You helped me make all that."

"Not really." She grabbed his hand when his face fell. "I appreciate it, Rythian, I really do! You made me all this cool stuff! It's just, you made it all for me. I didn't do anything myself."

Rythian swallowed his own pride. Here was relentlessly positive Zoey trusting him with her insecurities, and all he could think was, have I been such a bad teacher? Justifications didn't matter right now. All that mattered was how much she mattered.

"You made this whole farm yourself. You've taken care of Daisy and Steven and J.R."

She pulled away involuntarily and rubbed her eyes. "I know, I know. I'm a farmer and a rancher and a hacker and a brewer and a mage's apprentice and a technomancer and all that. But look at what's happened to my farm."

Zoey gestured at the still-smoldering crater, then laughed and sat down. Rythian crouched next to her.

"That was not your fault."

"The only other thing I managed myself was Barry." Her head was in her hands. "And that went so well. I meant to help and I just made a big mess. And I can never finish anything!" She hit one of the barrels next to her. "I just can't. There's so much, and I can't do any of it right."

She looked so tired and small just then. Her hair stuck up all over the place, dwarfing her face, and her pink stripes were smudged. Her fingers twitched as if she was fiddling with wires in her mind.

Rythian also felt very small. All he'd ever wanted was to protect Zoey–he'd never thought she could feel inadequate. Not her, who did so much for him. He admitted to himself that he'd wanted impress her, too.

And he'd left her thinking she was useless.

He did not know what to do. He thought of her renovating Blackrock. He thought of her befriending a cautious dinosaur. He thought of all the care she gave her mushrooms. He thought of her coming home. To defuse the nuke. To protect him.

How was he supposed to tell her how much that all meant?

There was a song he'd written a few days after her return. That night after they'd decided to work in magic and science, together. Technomancers, together.

Rythian took the wrench from his belt, twirled it in his hand. He pulled his scarf a little higher to hide his blush.

"She's my engineer, she wants me to be too."

Zoey looked up in surprise. He offered her the wrench.

"Combine both arts and make them one, together–"

She took the wrench and leaned into him. Rythian's breath caught.

"–me and you. I have my share of reasons to not go there again." He shrugged. "Perhaps this time it won't be quite as bad as it was then. Flying by the moonlight..."

And on that he took her hand. They drifted into the air like dancing partners, flying.

"...together there's no fear. Hear the pretty laughter of the girl with fire hair."

No laugh, but she smiled and leaned her head against his chest.

"Engineering, oh I will go. Engineering, engineering I will go."

He hummed then, and she joined in when she caught on to the tune. They turned slow circles in the air. When the second verse started he grabbed her hands and swung her in a wide circle. She shouted and laughed and held his hands tight.

"Quantum helmet, red katar, a wrench that's made of bronze. Uniting both philosophies, just like I dreamed of once."

When he stopped spinning her, Zoey's momentum still pulled them both into a twirl. She threw her arms around his neck and held on. He held her waist.

"Come with me to Blackrock hold, together we will be," he leaned his head toward her and said earnestly, "the greatest technomancers they will ever see."

Zoey smiled, floated up a few inches, and kissed his forehead. "Engineering, I will go," she sang.

Rythian hoped that she understood from the song just how much she mattered. He didn't know how to tell her that she was capable of everything. So he hoped this was enough, and that she could find that strength herself.

By the light in her eyes, it seemed that might be so.

When he brought her breakfast and a refill of coffee very late the next morning, Zoey was just beginning to repair the computer screen. Its fractured light reflected off her glasses. She looked in her element once more, wrench in one hand, fistful of instructions in the other. She hardly glanced up when he set the food down near her. She did, however, grab the new coffee mug without so much as looking and took a long drink.

"Morning, my engineer," He took her empty mug. When he was walking away–there was no use waiting for a reply, she hardly ever said anything while so focused–he heard her whisper behind him, "Morning...enderhunk."

He turned. "What did you call me?"

She was grinning into her mug. "Nothing."

And she went back to her work.

Credit to writersstareoutwindows on tumblr