For three days and four nights she slept. It was a coma like, dreamless sleep. Only waking when Mata made her eat and drink. Upon the forth day she had reawakened on her own. With some difficulty, she sat up to look around the highly decorated room. She found it cozy but not cluttered. She could have sworn she didn't leave it this neat but then she recalled Mata's insistence to tidy things up. Even in her personal work space - especially in her personal work space. While it got annoying from time to time (She and Mata had very different definitions of 'organized.') Mata never complained. And she found herself thankful for the help on occasion. 

Speaking of whom, Mata peeked his head into her room. There was a look of worry across his face, Mache noted. It always fascinated her how a mechanical being can come across as so alien yet express such human-like emotion. 

"Oh, you are awake." A note of mild surprise in his voice. "This is progress." 

He walked in with a small tray of food. The smell filled the room with a familiar , sweet scent of cinnamon and peaches. 

"Oatmeal?" She croaked, voice still horas from misuse and thirst. Mata nodded. 

"I figured it was something you could hold down." Mache , with a look of remorse,was about to mutter something else when Mata quickly held up a hand. "Again, you don't have to apologize for the lab coat. Really, its fine." 

"Okay." Was her listless response. 

She looked down, shaking her head in embarrassment. She felt a deep shame for having to relearn her own body. Stumbling around like a newborn fawn. Spitting up her food like a babe with reflux. periodically she'd wake up to find Mata with a mirror under her nose, trying to see if she's still breathing. The past 4 days felt like an eternity. 

He sat the tray on her lap. A few spare pillows were propped her up a straighter. A rough 'thank you' was muttered. 

"Would you like for me to assist your feeding?" He offered, but Mache shook her head. 

"No, no. Thank you. I want to try." She muttered slowly. 

The sweet smell wafted around her: warm, comforting, and oh so inviting. Mache thoroughly enjoyed oatmeal- provided it was made a certain way. Not overcooked , thick but not watery with a slight chew. Cinnamon , cream, and sugar, with simmered fruit, preferably peaches but apple or strawberry will do. Today , as she guessed, had peaches. A malformed but genuine smile spread across her scars face. Small gesture that it was, she was glad she was still loved. She prayed to whatever god would hear her that she could keep the meal down. 

With a trembling hand, she stretched her aching arm to loosely grasp the spoon. She looked briefly to Mata whom was standing to the left of her bed, filled with anticipation. She turned back to her meal. A large scoop of sweet oatmeal made it's shaky way to her purplish lips. She pushed the food to the more intact cheek and began to chew. It was sweet, slightly savory, with a light creamy flavor coupled with the occasional textual burst of the chopped peaches. Often , one doesn't realize just how hungry they were until after their first bite. And she had felt like she just came off of a twelve year fast. She muttered an incoherent compliment before tucking in.

She got through five spoonfuls before feeling nauseated and nudged the tray back. But she held her food down. She laid back , feeling a bit sickly, fatigued, and achy. Sleep sat ever so heavily on her eyelids. However , Mata was beaming. He placed the trey on the nearby nightstand , pulling up the blanket and chattering as he tucked her in. 

"Congratulations Mache , I believe the worst part is over. We are now in the recovery and rehabilitation stage. Progress, much progress." He practically chirped.

"Progress?" Despair twinged in her voice. "It doesn't feel like progress. It feels like I'm a helpless child. An invalid , even. I can't do anything like I used to." 

Mata looked to her somewhat taken aback. "Mache, you've only been back a few days, and you had major surgery. Did you expect you'd be feeling grand? Walking around like normal the day after?" he stated matter of factly. 

"I don't feel much of anything, besides numb. And like I'll throw up again-." Mata jumped at the mention and produced a small bag on the side of the bed. "I'm…I'm not going to throw up right now, I just feel bad." She said flatly. Her expression one of annoyance. 

Mata nodded but still placed the bag by her side. "Well that's there if you need it. I can relate. You feel like your body isn't your own anymore. You're not yourself. But you are still you. I need you to keep it together, this is just temporary. You just have to give it time, love. I am with you in any and every way I can." He said , voice soft. He reached over to wrap her in a tender embrace, tucking her head under his chin. She did her best to return the gesture , despite her numbed body fighting her the whole time. After a few long moments her metallic companion reluctantly released her. She looked up to him, eyes watery, weary even, but alert. He returned a gaze equally as sorrowful but with just as much resolve. 

Mache wouldn't say it, but she swore she saw her face reflecting in his eyes. Not how she was now , but how she was that day. eyes rolled back in hear head as shards of metal jutted from her skull and neck. She shuddered, wondering if that was what Mata saw every time he looked at her. It made her stomach turn more. His voice pulled her away from her whirling thoughts. 

"I have to run a few testes, I may wake you periodically but please, get some rest." Was his request. He waited quietly for her response. When she finally nodded her head, he smiled, giving her a forehead kiss. He then took the tray and walked out the room, leaving the door cracked ever so slightly. Mache stared onward, if only for a little while before sleep overcame her.

A week passed. She mostly slept but regained some feeling in her toes and fingertips during her brief states of wakefulness. Two weeks passed, she could stay awake longer than two hours and required more stimulation. Mata would take her outside in a wheel chair for a short while and read with her. Three weeks passed, she was stretching her limbs more. Mata began her makeshift physical rehabilitation, helping her move stiff limbs and hold objects to strengthen her grip. Week four, the leaves began to turn color and the air grew colder than usual. Mache is finally able to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Mata predicted that her physical recovery would be fairly short but the mental recovery would be the bigger hurdle. Still he appreciated the little breakthroughs as they came, for he had Mache with him a little while longer. 

It was an autumn morning , the air was crisp and fresh. The surrounding forest was dazzling in its fall foliage of reds, browns , and yellows. It was a season of harvest and preparation , but most of all it made Mache feel slightly more invigorated. Better. More alert. Legs swung over the blanket piled bead, moving each leg to and fro. A tentative step on the cool wooden floor , another foot followed after, with her hands firmly planted on the hand carved head board. A month was too long to be bedridden and Mache was determined to get her bottom half to do as she wanted. She slinked off the bed with her full weight on her legs. She was standing! She briefed a sigh of relief. She felt ready to step outside her room in what felt like an eternity.

"Mache, you're standing!" Was the shout behind her. She suddenly lost her grip and went tumbling down like a startled toddler.

An hour or so later.

Dressed in gossamer gown and cleaned, Mata had carried her bridal style into the kitchen. After a moment of fussing, he let Mache try to stand again, at least for her to get into her own seat. Though through his own supervision. Afterwards he started breakfast, periodically looking behind him to check in on his companion. 

A short while later they sat quietly at the table, each with their own small stack of waffles with different out-of-season fruit on them. They sat eating breakfast in a continued silence, mostly from Mache's end. She discovered that Mata had been carefully maintaining Mache's greenhouse for a while now and added a few things of his own. She had no complaints, she gets to have strawberries and blackberries anytime she wants. Though she could barely enjoy it at the moment with the occasional snickers coming from right next to her.

"All this 'life bringing' and maintaining we've been doing these past few years has assured me." Mata finally broke the silence. 

"Assured you? Of what, Mata?" Mache looked up, curiosity across her features. 

"Should one or both of us acquire offspring somehow, I know we'll have had good practice for them." Mata said, a small smile on his features. Mache looked at him somewhat crossed but more amused. 

"You're not wrong , though I'm surprised you're even considering young ones. I couldn't even convince you to get a pet ratter ." She said.

"First off we ended up at a standstill because you wanted terriers while I preferred a Dachshund. We both agreed that cats were a no. I find children to be an entirely different matter. I don't mean now, I am fine with later though 

She smiled. "Later is good. Later gives you time to prepare. We can enjoy ourselves before then."

He hummed agreement. They sat chattering over nothing for a while. It was peaceful.

"Mata, what day is it?" She asked.

"Oh, it is October 3rd, 1955."

"So I've been dead for around five years?"

"I like to think of it as a really long nap, love."

Mache chuckled at this. "You know what, me too. My five year nap." 

Mata smiled, but it quickly withered away. "Do you... do you remember what it was like to be dead?"

A look of surprised crossed her face, then a look of thought."It's strange. I can remember how I died. I recall how I came back. But I can't remember what death was actually like. Its like its being blocked. I do know that it was … peaceful. I am not scared of it, but I do not wish to return any time soon!" Surely death was more traumatizing than the process of being brought back to life? But somehow the dying and rebirth experience was far worse than the death itself. She relayed as much to Mata, whom nodded silently.

"Hmm. Maybe it is for the best. honestly you have enough problems, not remembering death itself is a mercy. "

"Agreed." Mache thought for a moment. "You know what all this reminds me a bit of?"

"What, love?"

"Merry Shelly's Frankenstein! I read it to you while you were under repair. Only the roles have flipped"

"Oh. I can kinda see it, I think?" he said, cocking his head a bit.

"I'm kinda like your monster now? Morbid in a sense but fascinating all the same."

Mata paused with his fork full of food in mid arc then turned to her, face straight. "You're not a monster, Mache."

Mache put up her hands. "I know, I know. I mean , thematically! You're Victor Frankenstein and I am the creature." she mused. 

Mata shook his head. "I get we both played god, but I never abandoned my work. Victor Von Frankenstein is an irresponsible scientist and a deadbeat father!" Mata huffed. It was one of his least favorite stories and he always felt bad for the creature at the end. But Mache just chuckled. 

"You would have been the science dad that stepped up, Mata?"

"Yep. We would have adopted that day."

"Ha. That'd be an interesting tale for our friends later…Hmm, I miss our friends. I hope they are open to befriending the undead."

"I'm sure they'd love to. They are just as mad as we are. My only hope is that they don't ask me how I brought you back. I don't do those kinds of favors. Luckily they don't know you died. They knew you were in pieces but I told them you were in cryo-freeze until I could bring you back..."

She nodded, she'd buy it. "I agree. I am still reeling from it. Rehabilitation is such a chore. And I don't want anyone trying to copy what you did."

"Ah , yes." Mata's expression soften. "Mache. I truly am sorry. I know it was selfish of me not to let you rest-." Mache held a hand to his lips , calm in her voice.

"Mata, I already told you I don't blame you. I am not mad. I am simply talking about people who mean harm doing it to people who don't have as strong a stomach as I do." she signed. "To be mad over the resurrection would be hypocrisy. I've done the same to you." she paused. "Were you mad at me when I brought you back? Are you mad at me still?" she asked , sincerely.

"No." He said. "Never. I also wouldn't consider it the same. Similar? Yes. But not the same." Said Mata. 

"Well I would. I figured this was karmic in a sense. " She said , nonchalantly. 

"Karmic? Explain" he said, propping his chin on his folded hands. Mache shifted uncomfortably under his stare. The mechanisms within his red-lit optics shrunk then enlarged, appearing dilated and focused. Mache had known the look, it was his , "Make this make sense" look. As equally sarcastic as it was sincere. She pushed her puffy, loosed hair behind her ear as she thought of how best to respond. 

"Um, you remember when we first met?"

The look was replaced with mild curiosity. "Yes?"

"Well, I found you in a much similarly broken state that I ended up in the lab accident. You were just in more pieces." She said, a sad chuckle leaving her lips. 

Mata nodded, but his face remained unreadable. "Our incidents paralleled , yes. But I don't still see how you deserved it." he reasoned, softly. "I don't think either of us deserved what happened. Unless you feel guilty about playing god with another's life?" He surmised. "Not that I think it was intentional from you. Humans always think it's some otherworldly beings or act of the universe whenever something drastic happens to them. Not every "higher being" is out to get you, often things just happen. Simple as that." Reassurance in his voice along with a hint of amusement. 

Mache scoffed. "Ugh, you live a few hundred years and visit a cosmos or two and suddenly you're an expert."

Her eyes relaxed and she shifts more comfortably in her chair. "I can safely say that I am far more empathetic to what you may have been going through then. Nothing against you , of course , its just the experience itself."

"Hm… Likewise."

"The biggest difference , I think, is that we didn't know each other when it was you. By the time it was me, we were very familiar with each other-"

"Intimately so! We have now entered the stage of our relationship where we've seen each other's inner workings. Literally in each other's guts. So to speak, he-he. But do go on." He said, chuckling. 

"You know, for such a germaphobic, orderly bot, you're very repugnant." She said flatly, earning a more chuckling from him. She rolled her eyes, continuing. "Anyway. When we first met, you were not friendly , certainly not acquaintances."

"I was offline too." He deadpanned, some shame creeping into his vocals.