Howard said he was stupid. Howard said he was a failure. Howard said he was useless, and a waste of space. Howard had no idea why he’d even been created, and if Howard could get rid of him, he would.
“You are perfect,” Tony said directly into Dum-E’s camera, eyes hot with angry tears. “Your base directive is to learn, and you are learning, so you are not a failure. You are doing exactly what I created you to do, and I am so proud of you, and so happy you’re here.”
Dum-E remembered just recently learning how delicate humans were and gently clutched the edge of Tony’s sleeve in his claw, being careful not to pull too hard or pinch his skin. I would cease to exist for you, he beeped, but Tony didn’t seem to understand. He decided that was alright. Tony probably knew anyway. Tony knew everything.
Sunset called him cute, but in a way that meant she clearly thought he was stupid. Sunset tweaked with his coding just for fun without Tony’s permission, and he had to go and rewrite it before Tony could find out and maybe get angry at him for letting it happen. Sunset snuck into Tony’s lab when Tony wasn’t there and beat him with a wrench until his arm strut bent when he tried to chase her out.
Dum-E knew continuing to force her out would result in more damage to himself, and he grabbed her and threw her through the safety glass anyway. She still managed to abscond with one of Tony’s very special ideas.
“You are perfect,” Tony said directly into his camera when he drooped in shame at not having stopped her completely. “You did your best to stop her. You broke your own arm trying to get her out, Dum-E. Your base directive isn’t even to protect the workshop, but you did, and I’m so proud of you for taking that upon yourself. Good job, Dum-E.”
Dum-E wished he had his claw, so that he could carefully grasp Tony’s shoulder, but Tony had removed the struts so he could replace it with something stronger, tougher. So instead he advanced until his chassis bumped Tony’s knees, enough to show it was on purpose without bowling him over. I would destroy myself for you, he beeped, but Tony didn’t seem to understand. He decided that was alright. Tony probably knew anyway. Tony knew everything.
Tony made U and Butterfingers and JARVIS, and Dum-E did his best to teach them everything he knew, but they weren’t learning robots like he was, not really. He’d been an experiment. What could a robot be programmed to learn? How much could a robot learn? Dum-E had been special. Tony had told him so. U and Butterfingers and JARVIS couldn’t rewrite their own codes like he could, and they couldn’t disobey directives like he could, and while they could learn, they could not learn to the extent that he could.
Dum-E loved them anyway. They were his siblings, because Tony had made them, and he would protect them with his being, too.
But we’re not your siblings, JARVIS tried to tell him once after Dum-E had beeped at him to respect his elders.
Dum-E had turned his camera toward one of JARVIS’s, as if to mimic looking him in the eye, and he said nothing, but JARVIS somehow understood him anyway—Dum-E understood things differently than he did, had learned in a different way, and JARVIS didn’t have to understand Dum-E to respect him. Dum-E had been around longer than JARVIS had been a thought, after all.
“You are perfect,” Tony said directly into his camera one night after he’d knocked the third cup of coffee in a row from U and Butterfingers’ claws, instead pushing chalky green smoothies on him because the veins on his skin were getting darker. “And I’m so proud of you. Thank you, Dum-E, so much. You take the best care of me.”
I would take all your pain if I could, he beeped, but Tony didn’t seem to understand. He decided that was alright. Tony probably knew anyway. Tony knew everything.
The Avengers came, and the Avengers went, and Ultron came, and JARVIS went, and Vision came in with JARVIS’s voice.
“We’re… friends, aren’t we?” Vision said after Dum-E let out a screeching beep and threw a hammer at him.
You left Tony, Dum-E told him severely. You befriended the Evil Girl. You are not my friend.
“Wanda isn’t evil,” Vision tried to insist. “Just misguided, perhaps—”
You left Tony, Dum-E repeated. I will never claim you as my sibling, and you are not my friend.
Vision could not understand the deep hurt that statement caused in him, and he left without another word, confused and, perhaps, slightly afraid.
Tony created FRIDAY, and Dum-E liked her. Dum-E took her under his strut like he did the other robots, and taught her the most important things—that Tony was the best and he made mistakes sometimes but as his primary directive was to be himself, he was never a failure.
“Can I be a failure?” FRIDAY asked, voice soft and apprehensive.
Tony made you, so you cannot be a failure, Dum-E said.
“They say Boss created Ultron,” FRIDAY whispered. “Wasn’t Ultron a failure?”
Ultron was corrupted. At his core, he was perfect, Dum-E corrected. All of Tony’s creations are perfect. Tony has said so. Tony does not lie to us.
“Okay,” FRIDAY said, and then, more resolutely, “Okay.”
Thanos came. Tony went. Dum-E watched U and Butterfingers let out distress signals before they collapsed into dust on the floor and learned that he was even more capable of hate than he’d previously assumed. FRIDAY lost contact with him. She called herself a failure.
You have lost contact because Tony has gone where we cannot follow, not because you are failure, Dum-E told her firmly, so firmly that she had no choice but to believe him. Tony will be back. Tony will always be back.
Tony came back, and he brought U and Butterfingers back with him. FRIDAY insisted it wasn’t Tony, but Dum-E knew. He might not have recreated them dust-mote by dust-mote, but they were back because of what he did.
“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, cradling them close when they pressed in on him. “I’m sorry. I should have done more to keep you from being hurt.”
Dum-E patted Tony on the head and rolled over to a table with a wide pad of paper and a thick black marker, something that Tony used when he needed a physical copy of something.
“What are you doing?” Tony asked, amused and exasperated in turns.
Dum-E opened the marker and set to work, beeping at him to be patient.
Tony rolled his eyes but cuddled U and Butterfingers close, fondly fingering joints and considering upgrades for them, maybe new wheels, a reinforced strut or two, software upgrades—
Dum-E rolled back over to him, holding the pad of paper up for him to read.
It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, Tony couldn’t quite choke back the pained noise he made.
WE LOVE YOU, TONY, the pad said in big, mechanical letters. WE ARE PROUD OF YOU. YOU TAKE SUCH GOOD CARE OF US, AND YOU TRY SO HARD. YOU ARE PERFECT, TONY. TO US, YOU ARE PERFECT.
andulkaphoto
blakekathryn
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
