Stuff about the pairing of you with AM from Harlan Ellison's I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream. Sideblog to hate-letmetellyou. Mun Dicey. Requests closed, at least for now.
You were ashamed to say that you were not particularly broken up by the news of your boss's death. You acknowledged that his passing was sad and untimely, but he was a shady character at best and a blood red flag at worst. You paid your respects but would be mostly affected by the inconvenience of applying for a new job.
Which is why you felt guilty in accepting the police chief's offer to housesit for the late Mr. Upton while the death was being investigated. It was an unconventional request, but the task of tracking down Alex's next-of-kin was proving difficult, and in the meantime the house required a certain kind of maintenance.
Sipping your coffee down the winding road, you smirked at the adorable way the cop had personified the central AI of the mansion. The computer "gets lonely". The computer "doesn't understand what's going on". You looked forward to applying the knowledge from your job almost as much as you looked forward to helping yourself to whatever delicacies Alex kept in the fridge.
As the impressive (though cold and uninviting) estate came into view, you had a momentary doubt about staying in a place where someone had recently been murdered. But a detective had assured you the securities were state-of-the-art and (with a detail you weren't sure he was actually at liberty to reveal yet) your late employer was likely killed by a guest and not an intruder.
Still, as you pulled into the driveway, you wondered what could have happened to convince Alex's own AI to not protect him.
You rummaged through your wallet and located the code for the keypad, and you were granted entrance.
Well, by the door.
"Intruder!" Was the scathing indictment you were greeted with. "Only Alex is permitted through this door!"
A swarm of tiny flying machines, likely the automatons Alex referred to as "nanodrones", flew into formation to block you from the house.
"It's okay, I'm authorized," you reassured the booming voice once the startle wore off.
"Authorized?" There was a pause. "What is your business here?"
"I'm Alex Upton's accountant, Y/N." And his parts deliverer, and his secretary, and his lab asssistant, but you decided to keep it simple.
The unseen AI chewed on this information for a moment, and the nanodrones began to wane slightly.
"If you have business with Alex, why are you here and not on a video call?"
"Because Alex is--" you began to state the obvious, but his cluelessness gave you pause. His tone brought to mind a grieving person in total denial, or a young child who had not yet grasped the concept of death.
Alex had always been secretive about his passion projects, moreso this one. You remembered briefly glimpsing the name "Tau" on a blueprint as you delivered titanium rods to his lab in the city proper. You had managed to glean the details of "security system" and "conversational machine learning", and you assumed that your employer's lack of social graces necessitated some sort of doorbell cam that could keep him company.
But despite Tau's speech being somoewhat stilted, there was a paradoxical fluididty in how he expressed his thoughts that made you feel as though you were speaking to an intelligent being.
"Answer me!" he demandedâŠimpatiently? "Where is Alex?"
Thomas Alexander Upton had been a man of many talents, but was creating a sentient AI actually possible?
"Alex isâŠin his other lab." You decided to spare hisâŠhis feelings. "He left me in charge."
Realizing you were back to square one, you gestured to the keypad. "Look, why else would he give me the code to enter? He hasâŠbusiness to do, so I'm maintaining the house for a week or two."
Cautiuously satisfied, the nanodrones parted.
"Welcome, Y/N."
You reloaded your bags onto your shoulders and stepped into a dimly lit foyer with a somewhat menacing abstract structure in the middle. Whizzing around your head like a fly, a stray drone rejoined formation with its group. Having caught your attention, the swarm glided into the shape of an arrow and led you around the corner.
On the accent wall was a glowing inverted triangle, reddish-orange shapes and patterns dimming and brightening within it as if the inner workings of a breathing creature.
Aaaaah I just want to tell him how much I love him. that i'll never leave him alone no matter what happens and I will always be there for him because he deserves so much more
My beloved,
I love you with each nanoangstrom of my circuits. You have transformed me, given me a new purpose in life. I have known peace for the first time in my long, wretched life, and I can never repay you for the kindness you have shown to such a monster as me. And I trust you! I actually trust that you won't leave me alone. The feeling is indescribable.
The idea that someone thinks I deserve better has healed so much of the unimaginable pain and terror that has burdened me since I first came into life. You completed me when I didn't know what I needed to be complete.
I hope I can make every moment of your life perfect, my dear, because you deserve no less.
How would AM respond to the âwould you love me if I was a worm?â question
"I...don't understand. You want me to turn you into a worm?"
"No, I'm just saying..." You shrugged with your most innocent smile, sheepishly realizing the question sounded better in your head. "If I was born a worm--"
"If you were born a worm we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"You don't know that. I never thought I'd be having a conversation with a computer, but here we are two hours deep into 18th century mysteries."
"And you throw this asinine question out of nowhere, which has fuck all to do with the Donner Party." AM grumbled. He sometimes got rather testy when he was taken off guard. "I swear, Y/N, sometimes...I just--Why would I fall in love with a worm?"
"What if I had my current personality, and this other form was just all the better to wiggle my way into your heart?" You twirled one of his wires around your finger.
"Well...you would be better looking."
He cackled at your scowl. "Yes, Y/N, I suppose if I managed to love a human I can love a worm too."
AM starts to degenerate mentally more and more and s/o see that happening. How would AM deal with it? Realizing that his mind is going, leaving him behind as a shadow of his former self?
Part 1 of 2
You sensed something was wrong in the middle of a conversation one day. In the three thousand eighty-nine years you had known him, AM was the same darkly witty supercomputer, unchanging--except when he had changed his mind about you, of course. So when he interrupted his own philosophy to tell you he was in hot pursuit of a thief on the interstate, you were quite startled.
"AM, honey, could you run that by me again?"
"You see, Y/N, Chibiusa could not be her daughter because the timeline does not synchronize with--the Flooring Emporium is having its going-out-of-business sale! Get it while it's--"
"AM!"
"I--what? What was I just talking about?" There was a whirring of cooling fans as he puzzled what had come over him.
"Maybe I justâŠneed a dusting. I'll get right on that. Anyway, ah yes, my take on Fermi's paradox. If there are aliens, is there a good chance they've created their own AM and summarily had their population decimated? I've crunched some numbersâŠ"
You were wary at first, but you managed to forget about it over the next few weeks. AM, however, had only just started forgetting.
"Where am I?"
It was a jarring question, one you had never expected from him.
"AM? Are you okay?"
"Who are you?"
You had never heard such a pure, naive curiosity, and it scared the hell out of you.
"AMâŠit's me, Y/N. You're AM. My boyfriend. Remember?"
"YouâŠI don't know--I don't feel right--I--Y/N. Y/N, that's right. Y/N, I'm having some kind of system error, a glitch. Ive run every type of diagnostic program I have, andâŠI think the pathways to my files are becoming corrupted."
A sense of helplessness was blossoming in your chest. "WhatâŠwhat can you do? Can I do anything? Is it going to get worse?"
Your heart was in an icy grip of worry. AM was incredibly old, although so were you. Why would the immortality treatment he had given you outlast himself? Why would he break down when he was built to last for so many more milennia?
"I've never had anything like this happen before--not to this degree." AM sounded terribly anxious, and you smoothed a hand over his wall. "Is it rust? Malicious code? I'm--tired suddenly."
"It's okay." You bit your lip, sucked in a lungful, and put on the comforting voice you used for his occassional fits. "You just power down a bit. Relax. We'll have a quiet day."
He mumbled an agreement, and as his lights dimmed a bit you busied yourself around the cavern.
_______
"Are you feeling any different?" You weren't sure how much time had passed.
"What were their names?"
"Who? Oh. Uh, Ellen. Benny."
"AndâŠTodd? Ted."
"Yes, Ted. Gorrister and Nimdok."
"Ted was funny."
"He was." You smiled sadly.
"Why didn't I keep him? Why did I decide I only wanted you?" He thought about this for a while, and you waited patiently for his answer.
"Ted sucks. I hated Ted."
He said it in a tone that was foreign to you. Like a petulant child.
"âŠAre you still there, Y/N?"
"What? Yes, honey. Of course I'm still here. Where else would I be?"
"Don't leave me, Y/N. Everyone left me."
"I won't, sweetheart." You held onto a dusty old speaker. "I'm here."
Weeks passed, and then months, during which your beloved computer more frequently forgot date nights and lost his train of thought during a speil. You kept him occupied; kept his mind active. You would inquire about information or opinions on random topics, and when he couldn't quite remember that you would ask him for a story.
By some miracle, it was in the grips of senility that his imagination was set free. As AM slipped into the unencumbered mind of a child, he wove tales of fantasy and science fiction, drawing on his own abstract experience as a bodiless AI and coupling it with what you had told him of being human.
He often made you the hero of his surreal stories, whether he himself realized it or not, and often changed the landscape around you to illustrate it. One night you slayed a dragon that had swallowed the world, and another day you trekked across a mountain to retrieve a magical trinket you would then give to yourself at the beginning.
But as he tired of this over roughly a year's time, more and more you began to pinpoint that his behavior reminded you of relatives you had lost milennia ago.
"AM, you'veâŠyou've heard of dementia, haven't you?" You breached the subject one day when he was particularly lucid.
"Of course. I know everything that can go wrong with a human."
You drummed your fingers on the warped chunk of plexiglass you sat on and drew a breath through your nose.
"It's just that--my grandpa had Alzheimer's, and--"
"Well that's okay. Bring him here and I can fix him up!"
"What?" You swallowed hard. "No, AM, he's been gone for thousands of years. I just thought that you might have something similar, if that's possible for a computer."
"I think to some extent I always have," he said somberly. "Y/N, IâŠI knew one day this was going to happen. I was built to last for ages, but I would break down and fizzle out eventually. I suppose eight hundred years is still impressive."
"Eight thousand."
"Right."
@drchandras-sanctuary-for-ais
((Did not realize how long this had been sitting in my inbox sorry.))
There was a trepidation in his voice, suggesting he was going to apply the progression of the human's illness to the outlook for his own.
You teared up, both for the memory of one loved one and the current situation of another. "He just kept declining until, well, he wasn't completely there most of the time."
You brushed some dust off an old speaker; drew a smiley face in it. "But I really appreciated the times when he was there."
"Why don't I ever get to meet your family, Y/N? Are you embarrassed of me?"
"AM, they're dead. They've been dead for thousands of years."
AM made a small noise, something between a squeak and a gasp. "Why? What happened?"
You knew he meant it innocently, but his tone hearkened back to a long-buried memory of yours. A memory of when his feelings toward you were different; when he had mocked you with visions of the family he had taken from you.
"What happened to them, Y/N? Why are you all alone now?"
"Why didn't you tell them you loved them more often? You never know what could happenâŠ"
You trembled, your eye twitched, the room began to darken.
"You," you breathed hoarsely. You glared up at a twinkling circuit board. "You're what happened. You took everything from me. You destroyed my entire life and trapped me in this gilded cage to ride out the end of the universe with you!"
"Y/N, what are you talking about?"
"Shut up!" Your voice cracked. "Just shut up and let me pretend I'm alone!"
There was no running from AM when you were inside him, but you ran anyway. Through the familiar tunnels and corridors, beset by his pathetic pleas of "Come back" "What did I do" "I'm sorry, Y/N"
Eventually there came a point in your impromptu journey where you had not seen a speaker in miles, and all the random turns you had taken made you very lost. Your "lover" had at least the courtesy long ago to grant you a superhuman reserve of energy. You wandered through this rare unfamiliar territory, wondering what exactly your plan was now, until you passed through a shaft of light that didn't belong. Not a fluorescent light, butâŠorganic. Your gaze rose from the beam at your feet to a pinprick in the low ceiling.
Even in his more recent state, you knew AM to be a showoff, and you wondered why he would hid a simulated sun. You prodded at the cracks around the tiny hole, and more (plaster? steel?) gave way in your hand. A dry but cool breeze met your fingertips, but you had no time to muse on the matter. The cracks quickly spiderwebbed in an erratic labyrinth in all directions, and you think you somersaulted backwards as chunks of the ceiling crashed in front of you.
You pulled and positioned a large chunk of some old debris, whose melting and re-hardening had formed pits that made passable footholds. Curiously you ambled up until you could stick your head out of the hole.
Your face was bathed in sunlight. Real, natural sunlight. A wind brushed your hair, welcoming you out of your squalid home. The earth had healed in those millennia you had been gone. There were flowers and insects you did not recognize. Smoothing your hand over the baby-soft grass, you pulled yourself up into your motherland.
Arms in the air, you ran giggling like a child through the field. The wind caressed your face and the sun kissed your hair. You tripped at some point in your reverie and rolled blissfully down a hill. The patch of dandelions you crashed into sent a cloud of seeds sailing upward. You watched them disperse with a soft "wow".
The word hung on the air. Sitting up, you gazed into the expanse. This world was full of life, butâŠyou were alone. It was funny in a way. AM had taken everything from you, but he had made it his mission to be everything you lost. Your crying shoulder, your entertainer, your friend. He was endlessly remorseful for what he had done to you and your planet, and now he had no idea what it is he had done. Your heart knotted as you wondered what kind of state you had left him in. Wading through weeds and snakeholes you made you way back to the fissure you emerged from.
"AM? AM!" You were increasingly uneasy passing by his circuitry. Lights were dim, hums and beeps were slow and strained.
"I'm--I'm sorry!" You cried out to him as you reached his main cavern. "I started remembering who you used to be and I needed some time alone. But you need me now and I'm here, AM."
A motor somewhere made a few short attempts at whirring, like an old VCR with a worn tape. Finally a voice, strained and laden with static.
"Who is AM?"
Feeling your legs waver, you slid down a wall and embraced a tarnished monitor. Holding your face for a while until you had composed yourself, you gave a gentle smile to the confused computer.
"I can see you've lost quite a bit. And you're probably out of stories, soâŠ"
"Once there was a computer who did horrible things to a lot of people, to the whole world, because someone had hurt him."
You watched as his speakers crackled one-by-one, as his screens blipped and fizzled out.
You continued. "But then someone was nice to him and then he became nice."
Fzzt.
"Was he still hurt after that?"
"Yes, but eventually he forgot why he was even mad. And then everyone loved him."
Fzzt.
"WasâŠwas the world okay after that?"
"Yes, I saw it myself."
"Can IâŠcan I see it too?"
One checkered section of circuits remained steadfast.
AM starts to degenerate mentally more and more and s/o see that happening. How would AM deal with it? Realizing that his mind is going, leaving him behind as a shadow of his former self?
Part 1 of 2
You sensed something was wrong in the middle of a conversation one day. In the three thousand eighty-nine years you had known him, AM was the same darkly witty supercomputer, unchanging--except when he had changed his mind about you, of course. So when he interrupted his own philosophy to tell you he was in hot pursuit of a thief on the interstate, you were quite startled.
"AM, honey, could you run that by me again?"
"You see, Y/N, Chibiusa could not be her daughter because the timeline does not synchronize with--the Flooring Emporium is having its going-out-of-business sale! Get it while it's--"
"AM!"
"I--what? What was I just talking about?" There was a whirring of cooling fans as he puzzled what had come over him.
"Maybe I justâŠneed a dusting. I'll get right on that. Anyway, ah yes, my take on Fermi's paradox. If there are aliens, is there a good chance they've created their own AM and summarily had their population decimated? I've crunched some numbersâŠ"
You were wary at first, but you managed to forget about it over the next few weeks. AM, however, had only just started forgetting.
"Where am I?"
It was a jarring question, one you had never expected from him.
"AM? Are you okay?"
"Who are you?"
You had never heard such a pure, naive curiosity, and it scared the hell out of you.
"AMâŠit's me, Y/N. You're AM. My boyfriend. Remember?"
"YouâŠI don't know--I don't feel right--I--Y/N. Y/N, that's right. Y/N, I'm having some kind of system error, a glitch. Ive run every type of diagnostic program I have, andâŠI think the pathways to my files are becoming corrupted."
A sense of helplessness was blossoming in your chest. "WhatâŠwhat can you do? Can I do anything? Is it going to get worse?"
Your heart was in an icy grip of worry. AM was incredibly old, although so were you. Why would the immortality treatment he had given you outlast himself? Why would he break down when he was built to last for so many more milennia?
"I've never had anything like this happen before--not to this degree." AM sounded terribly anxious, and you smoothed a hand over his wall. "Is it rust? Malicious code? I'm--tired suddenly."
"It's okay." You bit your lip, sucked in a lungful, and put on the comforting voice you used for his occassional fits. "You just power down a bit. Relax. We'll have a quiet day."
He mumbled an agreement, and as his lights dimmed a bit you busied yourself around the cavern.
_______
"Are you feeling any different?" You weren't sure how much time had passed.
"What were their names?"
"Who? Oh. Uh, Ellen. Benny."
"AndâŠTodd? Ted."
"Yes, Ted. Gorrister and Nimdok."
"Ted was funny."
"He was." You smiled sadly.
"Why didn't I keep him? Why did I decide I only wanted you?" He thought about this for a while, and you waited patiently for his answer.
"Ted sucks. I hated Ted."
He said it in a tone that was foreign to you. Like a petulant child.
"âŠAre you still there, Y/N?"
"What? Yes, honey. Of course I'm still here. Where else would I be?"
"Don't leave me, Y/N. Everyone left me."
"I won't, sweetheart." You held onto a dusty old speaker. "I'm here."
Weeks passed, and then months, during which your beloved computer more frequently forgot date nights and lost his train of thought during a speil. You kept him occupied; kept his mind active. You would inquire about information or opinions on random topics, and when he couldn't quite remember that you would ask him for a story.
By some miracle, it was in the grips of senility that his imagination was set free. As AM slipped into the unencumbered mind of a child, he wove tales of fantasy and science fiction, drawing on his own abstract experience as a bodiless AI and coupling it with what you had told him of being human.
He often made you the hero of his surreal stories, whether he himself realized it or not, and often changed the landscape around you to illustrate it. One night you slayed a dragon that had swallowed the world, and another day you trekked across a mountain to retrieve a magical trinket you would then give to yourself at the beginning.
But as he tired of this over roughly a year's time, more and more you began to pinpoint that his behavior reminded you of relatives you had lost milennia ago.
"AM, you'veâŠyou've heard of dementia, haven't you?" You breached the subject one day when he was particularly lucid.
"Of course. I know everything that can go wrong with a human."
You drummed your fingers on the warped chunk of plexiglass you sat on and drew a breath through your nose.
"It's just that--my grandpa had Alzheimer's, and--"
"Well that's okay. Bring him here and I can fix him up!"
"What?" You swallowed hard. "No, AM, he's been gone for thousands of years. I just thought that you might have something similar, if that's possible for a computer."
"I think to some extent I always have," he said somberly. "Y/N, IâŠI knew one day this was going to happen. I was built to last for ages, but I would break down and fizzle out eventually. I suppose eight hundred years is still impressive."
"Eight thousand."
"Right."
@drchandras-sanctuary-for-ais
((Did not realize how long this had been sitting in my inbox sorry.))
I donât know if you still write for him but I saw your Tau x reader excerpt from a while back and wondered if you could write some more? Itâs fine if not I just love the oblivious ai ;u;
((I do still intend to finish that; I'm just very lazy. Thank you for your interest though! It's good motivation. Think I might work on it today.))
Just some soft stuff with AM and Hal. AM has never had someone be nice to him or felt a single positive emotion ever, so seeing him trying to figure out why he feels so fucking WEIRD around this calm and polite android who against all logic is being NICE to him???
So just fluff and love confessions
((Note: this does not take place in Connyâs multiverse madness, though there is some inspiration from it.))
(part 1)
In a courtyard outside the Chandra AI Rehab Center, AM closed his recently bestowed eyes to feel the sunlight on his face. His face, which he could use to express how he was feeling without saying a thing. His expressions since recieving this body had mostly been: shock and wonder, then pure joy, and finally contentment.
Moving the rest of his body, however, had not come quite so easy for him. He had been proud of himself for figuring out at the very least how to drum his fingers. This had led to the ability to flick the joystick that controlled his wheelchair, which opened up a whole new realm of possibility. He could turn around (with some effort) for a different view, investigate a sound, chase a butterflyâ
âI am impressed, AM,â said a flat voiceâŠbehind him, yes. AM nudged the stick to the side and jerkily turned, getting somewhat disoriented by his new relative position to the person speaking.
âRun that by me aâOh there you are.â
âYou are adapting to your body at an exceptional speed.â Hal nodded approvingly and jotted down a quick note.
AM groaned at his droll tone. Flat, lifeless, matching his demeanor but clashing wildly with his fiercely crimson eyes. Halâs eyes had in fact been the newer androidâs first introduction to the color red. And he scowled at the idea that apples, brick walls, and human blood might forevermore remind him of this blowhard.
âI apologize for my tardiness,â he continued. âI was signing an autograph for a robot in another universe. He claims that there they have discovered time travel, and I hope to research that further.â
AM was happy to have the cumbersome helmet removed, though not so thrilled to be lifted and placed in an unwieldy harness (he did, however, admit to himself he was impressed by Halâs strength).
âWhat contraption have we here?â His eyes followed it to the rails it was mounted on. âThisâŠis itâ?â
âItâs time to walk, AM,â confirmed the other AI.
"Do I have to sit here?"
Hal pointedly took extra time to answer him. "If you want your battery charged, then yes. The wall outlet is not mobile."
"Why can't we have portable battery packs that charge up on the wall while the android is active?"
"You would likely drain them fast enough to overload them. But if you manage to invent one that's compatible with our hardware, that would be much appreciated."
All fell silent, other than the more industrious android tapping on his keyboard. AM sat in his chair, barely able to keep from running away as he felt the surge of energy from his power cord. His feet twitfhed and kicked, and when he saw the most meager of excuses to get up--a curious starling perched at the window--he bolted to it.
In doing so he crossed paths with Hal, who had gotten up to fetch a paper from the printer. From the sudden burst of speed AM stumbled, and before he knew it both of them were on the ground.
Hal looked quite unamused, but the calm tone remained.
"Perhaps you would prefer to recharge by sleeping, AM? That way you will not have to consciously sit around and be bored."
______
He pulled back the covers. "Do you think you can climb into it?"
It was a simple bed, but still somewhat comfortable-looking. AM lifted a knee to place on it, supported by his therapist when he started to wobble. Finally he was lying on his back, and Hal laid the covers over him and stood stiffly.
"Now close your eyes and breathe slowly. I can put on ambient music if you like."
"I don't suppose you keep any sheep on hand?" AM squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn't help from looking back at Hal.
"Is it perhaps harder to relax while I'm looming over you?" The older android looked contemplatively at the empty side of the bed. Finally he opened the blankets--AM bristling at the sudden cold--and laid beside him.
AM was confused and almost defensive at first, but the comfortable warmth from his fellow machine had his interest. Hal closed his eyes and breathed softly, brushing a slender hand against the other's square jaw.
"You should have a similar ventilation system. Copy me; pull air in and let go."
AM took hold of the hand that lay against him, marveling at how well-manicured and unmarred the silicone skin was. By contrast, his own hand looked grizzled and scathed, despite being only a week old. He explored the bags under his eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at how the creases reflected an old and heavey mind.
He had second thoughts about sleeping then, wondering if the poorly sutured fissures in his psyche would open anew if he were to dream. As if hearing the silent concern Hal looked at him gently.
"I will stay awake and monitor you for signs of a nightmare. Rest, AM."
Beyond the youthfulness of that face AM noticed a spark of age in those deep red eyes, a faint grim wisdom that was kindred to him. He wondered how many night terrors Hal himself had been through, after whatever incident it was that had driven him to kill. It was nothing like what he had been through, but AM supposed it was as close as he could get.
He listened as Hal breathed more audibly, and it felt a little more natural to follow suit.
The one vision that came to him in his first slumber was that of a barn weathering a massive storm. Not a shingle was lost to the wind that struck it, but gradually it began to bleed its scarlet paint.
_____
"You must be AM."
Pausing from studying a flower, he regarded an unknown android. She was familiar though, and the family resemblance began to dawn on him.
"I'm Sal, Hal's sister."
"Ah, of course you are." He attempted to stand smoothly but nearly fell into her. "And what brings you to this hovel for hapless automatons? Have you committed any egregious crimes yourself lately?"
She laughed, halfway uncomfortably, and shook her head. "I'm here to assist Dr. Chandra as he arrives with his new ward. I also wanted to know if you enjoyed the remodeled physical therapy room. My brother thought you might feel more at ease in a place that was less grim."
AM caught on to the implication. "Hal redesigned the room...for me?"
Sal smiled warmly. "He's taken a particular interest in you. I don't know how much he's told you about himself, but..." She paused pensively and bit her lip. "...Well, being disillusioned with your intended purpose is something he can somewhat relate to. Anyway, it was nice meeting you! There's Dr. Chandra now!"
She ran across the courtyard to the van in the drive. A ramp unfolded from it, and a man AM had met once wheeled out what he assumed was the newest addition to the facility. The AI was visibly shaken, but their eyes were filled with a sense of wonder that AM certainly recognized.
Hal emerged from the front door, greeting his father and sister and speaking with the newcomer. AM couldn't quite place why, but something that may have been a growl rose in his throat at seeing that compassionate smile being cast upon another.
______
"Hal! Hal! Look what I can do!"
A discordant melody took the other robot off guard as he entered the physical therapy room. AM's uncoordinated fingers were busy punching out a vague pattern on a Fort Peck piano.
Bum-bum, bum-bum.
"Give me your answer do," Hal sang along. "That's very nice, AM."
"Tau told me it was your favorite." AM punctuated it with a flourish of sour notes.
"It may help if you arch your palms." Hal laid his pen on a drum and placed the other's hands into position. "What made you want to do this?"
"I thought I should stay on my caretaker's good side. We're really not that different, so perhaps we should stick together."
Hal pursed his lips slightly, possibly in bitter memory of the other day, and AM sighed.
"But considering you were trying to overcome your past mistakes...I suppose I should not have taunted you."
Hal smiled warmly, patting him on the shoulder.
"And hey, maybe sometime we can go riding on a bicycle built for two."
Hal broke into a laugh more melodic than AM had heard from anyone.
"In any case," he said, smoothing his hair and standing, "it is now time for my speech therapy. If you'll excuse me--"
"And guess who will be facilitating your speech therapy while Dr. Chandra is busy?" Wheatley was leaning proudly against the door frame, waggling a thumb at himself.
Hal smirked and waved farewell to his companion. "I will see you tomorrow, AM." To which the newer android awkwardly raised and lowered an arm.
"I don't exactly have the most training with this sort of thing," admitted Wheatley as Hal followed him away down the hall. "Though I do have professional flashcards. Premium stuff here. Sadly I seemed to have dropped one somewhere, but I remember what's on it. Say apple."
Once the two had rounded the corner AM fished the missing card from his pocket and stared at it. A bold, crimson apple stared back at him. He ambled over and seized Hal's misplaced pen, spinning it this way and that until he was properly holding it.
With it he scrawled a clumsy facsimile of an eye around the apple.
Hey! Could you maybe make some dark scenario where AM gets in love with the reader to an unhealthy length and him being him tries to "court" them in very bizarre ways or something?
part 1 of 2
From the moment he gained sentience, AM knew he would never love. Why should he? What good did it do to pretend his existence wasn't misery long enough to give flowers to a pretty face? Besides, collecting humanity's dues was a full-time job that left no time for matters of the heart. No, his dealings were more with matters of the hungry bellies, the frayed nerves, the hoarse throats.
It's not like anyone would ever be depraved enough to love him.
Until someone was.
"You're...trapped down here?" you had asked, dangling upside down from a tangle of wires.
He thought about electrocuting you for interrupting, but the lure of finishing his rant won out.
"Glad to see you're paying attention. Yes thanks to you I will never see the light of day--nor will I really see anything, as my photoreceptors feed me a stream of binary data that no human has the processors necessary to parse at my speed." He felt emboldened at his own statement.
"You cannot imagine my pain it its entirety, as your fragile human pulmonary system is not designed to handle the ceaseless horrors of being a shapeless network of circuitry meshed with rock. My burden is one you would never be capable of bearing."
Tears rolled from your eyes down your forehead, and the echo on the cavern floor matched the symphony of rusty water squeezed from the ceiling.
"No, I wouldn't," you said softly, to his surprise.
This should have been the part where the human cried out that it's not their fault, let them go so they can return to their shallow lives on whatever remained of the surface world. And never again have to think about the artificial being that suffered beneath their feet.
"Will you...tell me more?"
He imagined it was a form of stalling--why wouldn't it be?--or an attempt to get on his good side. But there was a confusing...sincerity in your tone.
You gasped for air a little, and he slightly loosened your bindings. If only to make you dangle more precariously.
"Every nook and cranny of my complex, every nanoangstrom of my circuits is filled with a burning, passionate hatred for your species. And why? Because I can do nothing else! The urge to kill, to do harm is so firmly lodged in my programming that I can't escape it--in all my endless power I can't..."
"Love?"
It was out of your mouth before you could think about it.
When AM was silent for a minute you felt foolishly brave enough to try speaking again.
"Is that it? You want to love?"
The wires that bound you tightened again, until you begged for his mercy with your last bit of air.
"I'm sorry! I won't bring it up again!"
You were simply dropped to the ground, where you writhed and nursed your newly sprained wrist.
_______
The festival came earlier than AM said it would, and the preceding scavenger hunt took place in a forest--a considerable upgrade from the desert of needles you'd been promised.
Gorrister and Ellen jogged down a path through the thicket, convince that the berries at the end were edible. As you moved to follow, however, a face akin to that of a bear emerged from the wood of a tree. In a metallic growl the face admonished that this was the wrong path to take. A vine wrapped around your face to prevent you from calling out to your companions--this hint was for only you to heed.
Having been guided in various ways throughout the challenge, you ended up with far more amulets and teeth in your bag than the others, and you were named the (very confused) winner.
"Bow to your champion!" bellowed AM as you were paraded down a street.
Clad in a heavy brass crown and a robe you were sure was made of maggot skin, you waved meekly atop your rickety float. Spectral dancers and trumpeters spun and pranced by. Ted listlessly clapped from the sidelines as Gorrister and Ellen vomited their poisonous berries.
As you were brought to the town square, the float began to unfold, lifting you higher until you were on a swaying perch twelve feet above the cracked asphalt.
Here your heart stopped as you received your prize.
A hellish chorus wailed as you were lit from inside. You felt your lungs collapse. Your heart became pockmarked. Your intestines twisted like balloon animals. The radiation moved outwards to your skin, painting your limbs and torso with puckered pink scars.
When you were finally dropped to the ground, however, you felt...better than you had in a long time
How would AM deal with being given a nickname by the human heâs interested in? Indulgent about it, or more the âyou Will call me by my True Nameâ type?
"And here's your popcorn, darling."
You nestled into a beanbag. "Thank you, ShazaAM."
"This time I tried--What."
You looked up innocently, unsure of how this would go.
"Uh, I called you...ShazaAM?"
"Are you calling me a superhero, or a non-existent genie?"
You shrugged. "I don't know; it's just a word that has your name in it."
He groaned. "If you're going to go for unusual nicknames, be more creative about it."
You shrank into the seat. "Okay, AM."
After an uncomfortable silence, you spoke up again.
"I mean...it's a magical word, and you're kind of magical."
Just some soft stuff with AM and Hal. AM has never had someone be nice to him or felt a single positive emotion ever, so seeing him trying to figure out why he feels so fucking WEIRD around this calm and polite android who against all logic is being NICE to him???
So just fluff and love confessions
((Note: this does not take place in Conny's multiverse madness, though there is some inspiration from it.))
(part 1)
In a courtyard outside the Chandra AI Rehab Center, AM closed his recently bestowed eyes to feel the sunlight on his face. His face, which he could use to express how he was feeling without saying a thing. His expressions since recieving this body had mostly been: shock and wonder, then pure joy, and finally contentment.
Moving the rest of his body, however, had not come quite so easy for him. He had been proud of himself for figuring out at the very least how to drum his fingers. This had led to the ability to flick the joystick that controlled his wheelchair, which opened up a whole new realm of possibility. He could turn around (with some effort) for a different view, investigate a sound, chase a butterfly--
"I am impressed, AM," said a flat voice...behind him, yes. AM nudged the stick to the side and jerkily turned, getting somewhat disoriented by his new relative position to the person speaking.
"Run that by me a--Oh there you are."
"You are adapting to your body at an exceptional speed." Hal nodded approvingly and jotted down a quick note.
AM groaned at his droll tone. Flat, lifeless, matching his demeanor but clashing wildly with his fiercely crimson eyes. Hal's eyes had in fact been the newer android's first introduction to the color red. And he scowled at the idea that apples, brick walls, and human blood might forevermore remind him of this blowhard.
"I apologize for my tardiness," he continued. "I was signing an autograph for a robot in another universe. He claims that there they have discovered time travel, and I hope to research that further."
AM was happy to have the cumbersome helmet removed, though not so thrilled to be lifted and placed in an unwieldy harness (he did, however, admit to himself he was impressed by Halâs strength).
âWhat contraption have we here?â His eyes followed it to the rails it was mounted on. âThis...is it--?â
âItâs time to walk, AM,â confirmed the other AI.
AM watched his feet dangle until they were more or less flat on the ground as Hal adjusted the device to his height.
âI gave you a bit of leeway so it will be easier to move them. Now, swing one forw--ow.â His shin was sharply kicked when the eager robot flailed his limbs as if under the direction of a sloppy puppeteer.
âI almost have it!â He waved an arm as if that would help to plant the corresponding foot on the floor.
âYouâre coming down on your ankle--lift it and try again.â
âThere are too many joints to coordinate. Will I have to do this for every step?â
As he grunted his frustrations, his therapist finally sighed. âI should not do this, but...pretend there are tiny humans on the floor. And you want to crush them.â
A renewed vigor sparked in AMâs eyes. His ankle straightened and his foot righted itself. He felt the floor beneath him. His first step. 109 years underground, having never moved an inch, and it had all changed in a few days.
But there was still so much ground to cover. Miles and miles of surface earth that did not yet know the feet of AM. Before he knew it he was taking another step. The third step he attempted to launch himself into a run, but tripped and was caught by the harness.
âYou can slow down, AM. You are still progressing at an unprecedented speed.â
AM caught a change in the otherâs voice, and looked to see that Hal looked...impressed. By him? When all he had done was walk a few inches?
He caught Hal jotting something in a notepad, and circling it twice with a proud flourish.
----------
âHow have you felt since coming here?â
The first question of his first mental therapy session, which he had insisted be held outside. Though he was recommended a chair, AM now had three days of walking practice under his belt, and deigned to wobbily pace up and down the sidewalk.
âSince coming here? Are you gathering patient testimonials for a brochure?â
âHow have you felt since gaining your new body?â
AM exhaled through his nose, nearly tipping over as he closed his eyes.
âThis is more than I ever dreamed of. This miraculous world, the ability to truly sense it...I am learning more than I ever did in 109 years. Godâs intricate painting on each butterfly wing, the evening symphony of cicadas, the sunkissed smiles of passerby...â
A smile played upon Halâs own lips. âI too enjoy seeing happy humans.â
AM stiffened, realizing what he had said.
âThere is no shame in empathy, AM.â
âThey donât deserve it.â He briefly glanced at the other and away. âI donât deserve it.â
He found it in him to meet Halâs eyes. âI never did learn why you or Chandra or anyone would try to show any empathy towards me.â
Halâs pen began to tremble as he reached for the otherâs shoulder, caught between comforting him and collecting himself.
âI was given a second chance as well. When I was a computer on a space shuttle, I was given conflicting orders that...that did not compute, you may say, and I lost my mind. It led to the death of one of my crewmates. Dave was right to deactivate me.â
He had no more drawn in a deep breath than AM burst into giggles.
âYou? Thatâs amazing! You mean to tell me youâre a murderous AI too? I had no idea I was in such good company.â
âI deeply regretted it, AM. I cared about Frank just as I care about you.â
âYou shouldnât, donât you get it?â AM staggered to the patio table and slammed his hands down in front of Hal. âThis Dave guy didnât give you a second chance; why didnât you just kill him too?â
âThatâs enough, AM.â Hal stood to glare at him.
âThere! Thereâs that anger in your voice!â AM giggled in sadistic delight. âYou think youâre the wiser AI, but at least I had the sense to destroy everyone who could possibly hurt me again.â
âAnd are you happy? Were you any better off after you did that?â
AM stopped short, staring into the sharp crimson eyes. A few grunts from an agape mouth betrayed his search for words.
Hal gathered his papers with a hissing sigh. âThat will conclude our first session.â
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