Virus Detected
Google could tell that something was wrong as he broke the yolk of your eggs this morning. He was unsure as to what was causing this feeling, but it had been hours since it started and he noticed that his ability to dismiss it as nothing was waning. His limbs felt as if it took 15% more energy to move them, and his ability to answer questions and respond to tasks had slowed to a mere 78% efficiency. It was something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, but you knew better than to ask him about it, preferring to assume that he had an update coming up. He always slowed down a little right before a big update, and it was a sore spot for him. But you couldn’t dismiss it anymore, not with him being like this.
“Google,” you began, watching as his head tilted up and then over to you, it taking an additional second for his eyes to focus on your form. “are you alright?”
“There seems to be an error in my systems. I am unsure as to what.”
“Okay Google, sit on the couch and perform a diagnostic.”
Giving a nod he wandered over to the couch and sat down, his eyes zoning out as he began performing his diagnostic tests. It felt odd to watch him be so lifeless, but it startled you further when he suddenly lurched forward, coughing a few times as he had finished his scans. You could see within the rays of the sun coming through the window the particles of dust that had been forcefully expelled from Google’s mouth, hovering in the air before beginning their descent to the floor.
“I appear to have caught a virus.”
“How? I didn’t click any suspicious ads or links or anything.”
“I am unsure, however it is present in my mainframe, and as such I must expel it.”
“And uh, what does that look like for you?”
“I imagine that it would look to you as it would for a fellow human to have a cold. However, unlike the petri dishes that are mankind, I do not run the risk of getting you ill as I use my antivirus software.”
You decided to promptly ignore the dig on humanity before asking, “And how long would that take?”
He coughed into his fist again. “Unknown duration, however research results place it between two and four days for a complete removal of the virus with my current antivirus software. Conveniently Google Inc has a premium antivirus software that can be shipped here-” he paused, his face scrunching up a little in mild disgust “-for $250 plus shipping. Knowing our financials, you do not have that kind of variance in your bank account for such an expenditure. So,” he sighed “two to four days it is.”
“Will you be alright during that time?”
“I will be fine. My systems will dispel the virus and I will return to normal function.”
“But will you be okay?”
“I do not understand the concern. Are you worried about the return on your investment?”
“No Google, you aren’t well. I’m worried about you.”
Maybe it was the fact that the virus was still present in his body, or maybe it was the lesser processing speed and efficiency he was working with, but he felt almost…warm inside at the thought of you being worried about him. It must’ve been the virus, he wouldn’t entertain it being anything else.
“The concern is unnecessary. I will be well within the two to four day parameter, it will be like this never happened.”
“Okay. Well then Google, perform the antiviral program.”
“As you say.” he said before moving to lay down on the couch and closing his eyes, beginning to run the software. His internal fans picked up a little, but for the most part appeared to simply be asleep. With that started, you decided to go about your day. You had some laundry to do, and you had some snacks you wanted to pick up from the store, and now seemed as good of a time as any to do those things.
You got dressed for the day and went down to the basement to do your laundry. Tossing the mixed basket of laundry into the washer you put the soap in, and let the machine do its thing. Waiting for the wash cycle to be done was the best course of action, as you wouldn’t take long at the store and you wanted your clothes, sheets, and blankets to be dry by the time you got back. So once they were done washing you swapped them over and started the dryer before heading out to go to the store. You went in, grabbed you snacks of choice, and then thought about what you wanted to do for dinner. Google had made a weekly meal plan for you to follow, but you couldn’t exactly ask him about it while he was out. He also hadn’t sent you the recipe nor wrote it down, so unfortunately your plans for dinner tonight were foiled. You decided to grab some frozen veggies and chicken breast to make for an easy dinner, figuring you’d be able to go back to the regularly scheduled meal plan tomorrow. Using the self checkout made the process quick, and before long you had pulled up to your home and made your way back inside.
“Google, I’m home.” you called on reflex. Though the silence in response reminded you that he was currently preoccupied. Heading to the kitchen you put your dinner groceries away and then headed to your room to put your snacks away. It was still early, so you figured you’d put on some YouTube and just doom watch for a while. A buzz promptly put that on hold. The dryer was done. Heading back down to the basement you grabbed the laundry, tossing it into the basket and bringing it to your room. You could fold laundry and watch YouTube. Scrolling through your list of subscribed channels, you clicked on Markiplier and saw that he had a new video out. You could watch that with dinner tonight, but for now you wanted something familiar. You clicked on one of the playlists that had been out for years now.
“Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and welcome to SCP Containment Breach-” Perfect. With that, you half paid attention to Mark and what he was doing while also folding your laundry. Your shirts, pants, underwear, socks, washcloths, and a couple of sets of sheets made up the majority of the basket, but then you got to the last thing in there and it made you pause. It was one of Google’s shirts. You’d made sure that he had a decent amount of clothes just in case, and this was one such time where it proved useful. Google had stained it while making a loaf of bread, the flour mixture having gotten on it. Looking at it now made your heart twinge a little. He had been considerate that day, you having mentioned you would’ve liked some fresh bread for breakfast the day before but never ordering him to do so. Your hold tightened a little on the shirt before you promptly tossed it back into the basket and stood up, the desire to go check on him rising in your gut.
Pausing your video you headed to the living room, eyes darting to the couch. There Google laid, though he looked uncomfortable. His eyes were still closed, signaling that he was still resting, but his brows were furrowed and his breathing protocol was inconsistent, stuttering and sometimes deep but sometimes shallow on intake. You quietly headed to him, standing by his head as you reached out to feel his forehead. It felt warm under your palm and upon contact with his forehead he gasped, his forehead nudging closer to your hand. Flinching at his insistence upon your touch, you felt the concern creep its way into your throat. Usually he was indifferent to physical contact if not a little touch adverse.
There had to be something you could do. But what? If he were human you’d give him some medicine. But he wasn’t human and the treatment was already being administered. You didn’t know what would help versus what would possibly hurt him further, and you didn’t want to accidentally break him. Not that he was all that fragile, but it was difficult to think of him as anything else right now. Sighing, you removed your hand and backed off. He’d be okay, he just needed time. Besides, there was nothing you could do because he wasn’t human and you weren’t an expert at robotics.
Resolving yourself you decided to head back to your room to continue watching Mark play SCP Containment Breach, though as you pressed play you knew that you wouldn’t end up actually paying all that much attention to it. You tuned in at big moments like when Radical Larry ended up putting Mark into his alternate world and Mark found his way out on his very first try and when he had managed to trap Radical Larry back in his containment cell, but it wasn’t thrilling you like it would under normal circumstances. You had gotten decently into the 67 video playlist before your stomach grumbled. Checking the time you realized you had spent hours in front of the tv and now it was a bit past your typical dinnertime. Lugging yourself up onto your feet you made your way to the kitchen to make dinner. You tossed the frozen veggies into the microwave and grabbed a pan, seasoning the chicken before putting it in the hot pan and throwing away the packaging. It took a little time, but the chicken cooked and the vegetables heated up, and before long you had a healthy and delicious meal.
You put some butter on your veggies and plated your dinner, bringing it back to the bedroom to eat and watch YouTube in there. Backing out of the SCP Containment Breach playlist you opted to watch Mark’s newest video. You noted that a lot had changed over the years, from Mark’s look to his sound quality and visual effects, but what else would you expect from over 13 years of development? You pondered the continuous passage of time as you ate dinner, and like always you enjoyed Mark’s video. Once you had finished your dinner you felt wrong as you set your plate to the side. Google would’ve never let that slide, but he wasn’t exactly present to chastise you into bringing the plate to the sink.
You decided to turn in early, and as you fitfully couldn’t sleep you looked up the antivirus program for your Google bot. The search brought you to a FAQ page, and you scrolled the questions and answers. ‘How long does it take for my Google bot to be fixed once the antivirus program starts?’ ‘That depends on the virus or viruses that have implanted into the Google bot’s systems. On average it takes two to three days, but can take up to four with the basic antivirus program.’ ‘Can I upgrade to the premium antivirus while my Google bot is already performing the basic program?’ ‘No. The Google bot will continue to run the basic program to remove the virus, however it will utilize the premium antivirus for any future viruses it may obtain.’ ‘I think my Google bot is overheating, is this normal?’ ‘The systems will run hotter as a result of the antivirus program functioning. This is normal. They will return to normal levels once the program has completed and your Google bot is functioning fully again.’ Unfortunately none of this was helpful to soothe your worries, and frankly you didn’t like how the FAQs never brought up the emotional aspect of having your Google bot be ill. You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand to charge before you rolled over, closing your eyes in the hope of tricking your body to sleep.
You didn’t know when you actually managed to fall asleep, but as you woke up to the sun being almost fully in the sky you knew that it was going to be a long day, even if it was already half over and barely began. Shoving your feet into your slippers you made your way to the living room to check on Google. The first thing you noticed was that he was awake. The second was that he was trembling a lot and seemed more aware of his surroundings than he did yesterday.
Making your way to the couch you felt his forehead again, and he leaned into your touch with a deep whine emanating from the back of his throat. In any other circumstance it would’ve had you over the moon to see him so wanton for your touch, but right now you’d take a quiet elation that cut through your worry. “How are you doing, Google?”
His brown eyes stared at you as he shrunk back from your hand again as if on principle. “I have been better.” he said dryly, another bout of shivers overtaking him.
“So what’s happening now?” you asked, removing your hand from the vicinity of his forehead.
“My systems are hot and the environment feels colder as a result. It is highly unpleasant.” he replied.
“Is there anything I can do to help you, Google?”
“No. My protocol is already doing what it must to ensure the virus’s removal.”
“I don’t care about the protocol Google! Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Anything at all?”
The android clenched his jaw as his discomforted gaze glared at you. Regarding matters of preference or desires Google generally had a hard time, and now that you were asking this question to him now of all times irked him. What irked him more was that he found it easier to answer than he expected.
“Just remain here.”
“Stay with you?”
“As I said.”
You nodded and moved to try and sit on the couch at his feet, him bending his knees to allow for it. “Okay. Anything else?”
“Remain as you are, as if my current state renders you unaffected.”
Okay, so stick around and act normal. You could do that. At least, you hoped you could do that. It couldn’t be that hard. Now that Google was at least awake it would definitely be easier to act like everything was okay, because everything was okay.
“You are doing that overprocessing function you’re prone to doing.” he stated, staring hard at you, causing you to wince in embarrassment at being perceived so easily.
“Yeah, I suppose I am.”
“Stop it. Distract yourself with visual entertainment if you must.”
Watch tv to distract yourself, huh? You could do that. Grabbing the remote you turned on the tv and looked for something to watch. The tv guide showed that one of your favorite childhood films was on and you only missed part of the beginning. You clicked on it and quickly took note that it was the scene where Eve first landed on Earth. Adjusting, you got comfortable and quickly became entraptured by the screen just as you did any other time the movie was on.
Google found himself genuinely watching the film as well, his thoughts turning to you as he watched. You were much like WALL-E in your curiosity and desire to know more, and as he continued to watch while WALL-E cared for Eve when she was powered down he found himself thinking about his current situation. While he wasn’t completely powered down, he definitely wasn’t at a hundred percent capacity, and here you were sitting and keeping him company because you wanted to keep him comfortable. You were kind, and always treated him with more personhood than he needed. If he were to truly think about how it affected him, he’d say it was nice. Not that he’d ever tell you though, he had a reputation to uphold.
The movie went to commercial break and you stretched before getting up, and Google watched as you left the room. The trajectory of your steps indicated that you were heading to the bathroom, and knowing you you’d be back shortly. The commercials did nothing to grasp his attention, and he found himself counting the minutes until your return. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he missed you. Without you his shivers came back into focus in his mind, and it felt like every symptom he experienced was worse. He wasn’t coughing anymore, but it felt like there was a tickle in his throat that had only seemingly subsided once you had come to check on him. Hearing your footsteps coming back down the hall he turned his gaze back to the tv as he watched a commercial about some prescription drug with happy looking people on the screen as the side effects were being read off quickly by the narrator.
“Oh good, I didn’t miss anything.” you said, sitting back down at his feet. You glanced at him and noticed him watching the tv. “How are you doing, Google?”
“I am functioning at a better capacity today than I was yesterday, though my systems are not yet fully functioning. If predictions serve me well, I should be at full capacity by tomorrow.”
“That’s good. I…I worry about you, you know.” you admitted, clasping your hands together and looking down at them.
“There is no need. I do not become ill like humans, nor do I have a mortality to be concerned with.”
“I know, I just…it worried me to see you as you were yesterday. Knowing you were out cold on the couch and not knowing how to be able to help you –worse off, knowing that there wasn’t really anything I could do to help you– was scary. And I know, I know that in the end you’ll be fine and we’ll be going back to the way things were since before you somehow got that virus, but-”
“-But it does not detract from how you are feeling in the present time.” Google interrupted, and as you properly looked at him you noticed that there was a softness in his gaze, one that was unlike him in most interactions.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Would it benefit you to have physical comfort?”
Okay, he was definitely ill still, even if he presented as being his usual self more than before. Google didn’t initiate hugs, and he didn’t often understand your ‘silly human emotions’. But here he was doing both. It was a little unnerving, but you couldn’t say that it wasn’t appreciated.
“I-Is that okay with you?”
“My feelings on it do not matter. Would you benefit from physical touch?”
You took a moment to think about it. “...Yes.” you finally decided, and as Google opened his arms from his supine position on the couch, you found yourself crawling over him and resting prone on his body. You turned your head to the side and rested it over his dimly glowing chest –another physical indicator of his current affliction– and seeing that the movie had come back on you chose to turn your attention to that instead.
Meanwhile, Google moved his arms to allow you to gain comfort from his physical form and as you made yourself comfortable on his body he felt something in his systems lurch, though not negatively. It was as if something had been stuck and suddenly came loose. In his current state he couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and he found that he currently didn’t want to. The only thought that made itself present in his neurological components was that this was nice. His attention on the movie was completely lost, focusing instead on you and the comfort he was feeling from this exchange as he rested his arms around your form. His trembling subsided with you in his arms, and for the first time today he felt genuinely comfortable.
Neither of you knew when it happened, but as you both took comfort and peace from cuddling on the couch, you both ended up falling asleep in each other’s embrace. It wasn’t until hours later that you woke up, and as you moved to look at Google you noticed that he was still asleep. You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and checked the time to see that it was about five in the evening. Your stomach growling indicated that it was time for you to make dinner, but Google’s arms were still wrapped around you, and you didn’t want to wake him up. Carefully you started pulling back from his hold, and you gently moved his arms off of you and had them rest on his torso, asleep like Sleeping Beauty. Once free you went to go use the bathroom, washed your hands, and made your way to the kitchen to make dinner.
You wanted something quick and easy, so you decided to make some mac and cheese. Was it the healthiest meal you could make? No. Was it even the easiest meal you could make? Also no. But you wanted it, so damn it you were gonna have it. Filling a pot of water and shaking some salt into the water, you then turned the stove on and waited, scrolling through your Tumblr feed as you did so. Once you heard the water start to boil you added the macaroni to the pot, gave it a stir so the noodles wouldn’t be stuck together, and then waited some more for the pasta to cook.
Preoccupied with your phone, you jumped when you felt an arm wrap around your waist. But you settled when you heard Google’s voice. “Mac and cheese? That is not a full, balanced meal.” he chastised, his voice a bit rumbly from still waking up.
“Maybe not, but it’s quick, it’s easy, and I wanted it.” you replied before turning in his hold to look at him. “Did I wake you up?”
He shook his head. “Negative, I ‘woke up’ naturally.”
“Your shivers seem to have stopped.”
“Indeed. It seems as if that aspect of the virus has been subdued and removed.”
“You’re still touchy though.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No, it’s just not like your usual self.”
“Would you want it to be?”
Your furrowed brows and surprised gaze directed him to think that the answer was no, and as such he turned his attention to your boiling macaroni. “Your dinner is about to overcook.”
“Shit! Thanks Google.” you said, turning your attention to the pot. You used potholders and brought it to the sink, dumping the macaroni into the awaiting strainer, shaking the strainer and using gravity to strain the water. Putting the macaroni back in the pot you added a little milk, the cheese powder, and ripped up some slices of cheese to add to the pot. Mixing it all together you watched as the powder incorporated, the milk got thick and the cheese melted and started making many thin cheese pulls as you mixed the macaroni, akin almost to looking like spider webs, or neurons even with their ‘branches’. Once it was the perfect consistency you then put the entire pot of macaroni into a big bowl, figuring you’d eat what you wanted from it and if there were leftovers you could easily wrap up the bowl in some plastic wrap and put it in the fridge for tomorrow.
Once you fixed it the way you liked it you made your way to the kitchen table to eat. Google would’ve had a minor fit if you had tried to head to the living room with dinner, which honestly would’ve comforted you some because at least then he’d be acting more like his usual self. You saw him sit across from you and you considered his question as you ate.
“I thought you were touch averse?”
“I can be at times, yes.”
“So why are you asking me if I want you to touch me more?”
“Because as loathe as I am to admit it, the physical contact from earlier today was…” enjoyable, needed, appreciated, many descriptive words suggested themselves in his head, but he didn’t want to seem too invested in the approval of his suggestion, so instead he went with the weak descriptor of, “nice.”
“Do you think that might be because you’re ill?”
“Are you concerned that if you agree that when I am fully well again I will want to revoke the agreement?”
“Maybe. I just want to know this is something you genuinely want, and not anything having to do with the virus or you doing it because you think I’d enjoy it even though it bothers you.”
Google took a moment to think on that. You were right of course, he had been touch neutral, and even sometimes touch averse while you have been his owner. In your perspective it would definitely seem odd for him to request more touch now. But how could he convince you that this is what he wanted? “I may have a suggestion.”
“Hit me.”
His brows furrowed a little, but he closed his eyes and dispelled the thought from his mind. You didn’t mean it literally, you never did. It was something he was getting used to. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze back to you.
“I would like to continue our current parameters of physical touch from this afternoon while I am ill. Once I am again at full capacity I can reevaluate and let you know if my decision still stands.”
That would have to do. It was a logical option, you just worried you’d be taking advantage of him since he was bringing this up in his currently sick state.
“If that’s what you want.”
As hard as it was for Google to say, he nodded. “It is.”
Nodding your assent, you went back to eating your mac and cheese. You ate about half of the large bowl before you covered up the rest in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge for tomorrow.
“So, what should we do now?”
“If you would like to play a game I would observe the story with you, or if you prefer to watch someone else play we could watch YouTube.”
“Well, I was watching Markiplier play SCP Containment Breach yesterday while you were out…”
“If you have not finished the playthrough, we can continue it if you want.”
“In my room or out here?”
“Whichever is more comfortable for you.”
You opted to watch the playthrough in the living room, figuring that you could head into the bedroom once you got tired enough to go back to sleep. Not that you would, at least you didn’t think so, because of how much sleeping you had done earlier today as well as the nap you had with Google on the couch. You both sat back down on the couch and you picked up where you’d left off with watching the playthrough. A few hours in you started feeling a bit peckish and figured that some popcorn was just what the doctor ordered, though before you could get up Google had done so.
“Where are you going?”
“You want a snack.”
“Yeah, so?”
“If I couldn’t even do that, you might as well scrap me.”
“But you don’t even know what I was gonna grab.”
He supposed that was true. You had a variety of snacks in the house, and he would be going off of his best estimate. “Okay, what do you want then?”
“...popcorn.”
“Not entirely out of the parameters of my estimation, however it is a slight outlier to my current predictions. You were right, I didn’t know what you wanted.” he said with a small, almost proud smirk before heading into the kitchen and making you your popcorn.
That smirk shouldn’t have meant more to you than just a facial expression for the benefit of human comfort, but it did. It made your stomach flutter and your heart feel fuller. “Hey, should you be doing that? You’re still ill!”
“Not ill enough to not make popcorn.”
“If you overdo it and make yourself sick again I won’t forgive you!”
It made Google pause as he was about to put the microwave on. He set the microwave for two minutes and thirty seconds before settling himself back to lean against the counter. You had truly worried about him when he was out. He knew that, of course, but…it meant more now. You had always let him know how much you cared, but now it felt more genuine. Or maybe he was just more open to receiving it and accepting it as such.
“I won’t overdo it. I promise.” he replied, watching as the popcorn started to pop in the bag.
Hearing no response Google assumed he must've placated you, but he would keep his word about not overdoing it. Originally he would've opposed such a notion, not only for keeping his word to a human, but to the thought that he could overwork himself, but over time he had come to understand your human worries regardless of how necessary they were. Deep down he appreciated it, though he doubted his ability to voice that to you. It would be beneath him, but it would also mean that he was more like the species he hated deeply than he would've ever liked to admit.
The popping slowed down significantly when Google opened up the microwave, and he felt as a couple of kernels popped while the bag was pinched between his fingers. A couple of late bloomers, as some would say.
“Come on Google, you're about to miss a good part!”
He looked in the direction of your call before looking at the bag in his hand. A small smirk graced his face as his gaze softened a little before he left to go to you again.
Maybe he was a late bloomer too, but with enough time with you he could pop into his full potential.