Becca (twilight_angel) wrote in mac_hearts_pc,
Becca
twilight_angel
mac_hearts_pc

Fic: "Not So Infallible" (~1000 words, PG)

Title: Not So Infallible
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Then, PC was right next to him and asked, “What kind of virus is a ‘failure on exit’ error?”
A/N: My very first Mac/PC fic, although certainly not my first fic. What can I say? Mac/PC bring out the fluff in me. Inspired by actual Mac troubles I had.


Mac cleared his throat before coughing, and his CPU fans began to spin a little faster.

Immediately, PC was next to him, eyes narrows. “I thought you said you didn’t get viruses.”

“I don’t,” Mac replied, although his voice sounded scratchy and his screen dimmed a tad.

“Then, what’s this?” PC put a hand on Mac’s forehead. “Maybe you should run an anti-virus check, just in case.”

“But I really don’t get viruses.”

“What’s this icon here? A diagnostic? Run that at least!”

Now, PC was taking his pulse, so Mac sighed and opened up his disk utility. He was starting to feel under the weather, after all, and his applications had unexpectedly frozen up last night, if only for a minute.

While the diagnostic ran, Mac said, “Chill, PC. I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t fight off.” But he didn’t protest when PC ran to get the thermometer. Was his CPU temperature a little high?

He coughed again, and it suddenly turned into a full-blown coughing fit. By the end, he was hunched over and PC was rubbing his back. He always hated it when others thought pounding his back in a coughing fit would help.

“Why don’t you lie down?” PC asked. “I’ll get your power adapter, get some power into your battery. We’ll plug you in, and I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Bet you say that to all the computers,” Mac quipped weakly. He was feeling tired, so he let PC manhandle him into bed, shucking off his pants before pulling the covers up to his shoulders and plugging in his power adapter. His battery had only been half-empty, but it still felt nice. Then, when he tried to pause his iTunes, the entire application froze. Sweat prickled his forehead as he forced the application to quit, shaken. Still, he managed to minimize it from his mind enough to try to sleep.

Mac was about to drift off to sleep when his half-forgotten diagnostic suddenly jumped for attention, far sooner than it should have. His fans increased again as he read the diagnostic, and he paled.

Then, PC was right next to him and asked, “What kind of virus is a ‘failure on exit’ error?”

“Not a virus,” Mac croaked before clearing his throat and taking a sip of water PC had brought. “I’m...not entirely sure what that is.”

“Well,” PC said, decisive, “you go back to sleep, and I’ll google it. Then, we’ll decide what to do.”

“Yeah,” Mac replied. “Thanks.”

He drifted to sleep to the lull of PC’s keys tapping away, PC muttering about viruses, and a large hand stroking his hair.

***

“Mac? Wake up, just for a few minutes. Mac, are you awake?”

Groggy, Mac opened his eyes. “PC? What is it?”

“How are you feeling?”

Mac shrugged and sat up. Everything ached, and his temperature felt higher than normal upon waking. As if reading his processes, PC waved the thermometer in front of him before pressing it gently into his ear and pushing the button. Mac had to smile as PC so seriously scrutinized the screen; it had taken Mac ages to convince PC that this thermometer was faster and easier than his old mouth-thermometer. PC might be reticent to technological changes, but Mac found that he could usually convince him after awhile.

“This is pretty high,” PC said uncertainly.

Mac shrugged again. “I run pretty hot,” he managed after a sip. “What did you find?”

Turning his back to Mac to put the thermometer on the bedside table, PC said, “You’ve got corrupted data.”

Mac frowned. “But I can work around data corruptions.”

Turning back suddenly, PC said, “It not just a little corruption! Well, it is, but it’s a lot of data corruptions that you’ve been ignoring, that you’ve been ‘working around’ until they did this! And we have to get you fixed right now or else, or else...” PC sagged.

“Hey, PC, it’s okay. I’ll call support, get fixed...”

“But this sounds serious! It sounds like something that could destroy my hard drive, so maybe it could destroy yours, too, and I don’t want to lose you!”

With a fond smile at PC’s intrinsic melodrama when it came to sicknesses, Mac pulled PC next to him in the bed. “Listen, PC. It’s not going to destroy my hard drive. Even if it did, I back up constantly, so I’ll be fine no matter what. I’m not like you, PC. If this couldn’t be fixed, I’d be feeling much worse than I do now. You read that it was repairable, right?”

At PC’s nod, he continued, “See? I’ll be fine. Let me just call support, and they’ll get me fixed right away.”

“If you can get through to someone right away,” PC muttered doubtfully, but he readily passed Mac his iPhone.

***

A half-hour and two restarts later, Mac tossed his iPhone back on the bedside table and stretched out with a contented but tired sigh.

“Are you okay now?” PC whispered as he slid closer.

“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mac said, his voice back to normal but sleepy. “Just needed to repair the disk from startup.”

“I’m sorry I worried so much.”

Mac laughed and turned onto his side, sliding down until he could nuzzle into PC’s neck. There, he pressed a small kiss and said, “I like you worrying. I always worry whenever you get a virus.”

PC looped his arms around Mac and pressed them closer. “I know.” A short pause. “Although it’s nice to know you’re not completely infallible.” Mac laughed, and PC kissed the crown of his head. “Go to sleep.”

“Nap with me?”

“Of course.”

Together, they slid into sleep mode, arms and cords entwined as they dreamt over the same shared network.


Fin.


Hope you enjoyed! :D
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