Chapter Text
Well your stupid android has a combative mode.
Who knows why? Only God knows.
That’s God’s plan (by Drake) not yours. So you dial the nearest Cyberlife store near you and almost start praying on your couch. Your android is still putting away groceries, not even glancing in your direction. The line beeps once and is picked up by, what you think, is an android.
“Hello, you have arrived at Cyberlife’s Help center. What would you like to ask?”
“Hi- yes, I would like to know the procedure to return an android? I think mine has a malfunction…”
You shoot a dirty glare at the android who is done putting away groceries, its face glancing back at you with the same deadpan expression. Standing under your kitchen light, the yellow hue bouncing off the brown of its hair. Unamused by your current phone call.
Damn handsome robot.
You gotta get rid of this thing…
“No problem at all! You should be able to return it to your nearest Cyberlife establishment.”
Thank god.
Heh! You win again!
Screw your friend and screw the android!
You choose to ignore the unimpressed look on its face as it crosses its arms over its chest, staring at the phone in your hand. Blinking your eyes at it before turning your head and acting like its not staring bullet holes into your phone. Man you really hope this “combative mode” wont turn on you…
“Now what is the model of your android? I can fill out the form to provide you with a peaceful return.”
Heh.
Heheheheh.
Too easy.
“Its model is.. Ah.. KS500?”
There’s silence. It stretches on for a few minutes and you wait with bated breaths. Must be too busy filling out the form. That’s fine! At least you’ll be on a phone call before your android strangles the living shit out of you.
When a voice returns, it's a different one. A male it sounds like and sounds much less robotic and a little stressed.
“Sorry Ma’am but we don’t take KS500’s or anything from that series.”
…
“Excuse me what.”
“The uh store is busy! Goodbye Ma’am!”
“WAIT WHA-”
The line disconnects and you’re left with your phone opening back up to the browser of fanfiction you had pulled up and your stupid fucking-
“I told you, I’m a limited edition and I can’t be returned.”
Where your head is hanging off the side of the couch, it shoots up to glare at the android. How limited edition was your android that they weren’t accepting fucking returns. Smug bastard, not really smug but just there, stands against your counter with unsurprised eyes.
fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufu
“Worth a shot.”
You mumble out as you curl up on your couch. Your android is quiet before it turns back around.
“I’ll make you lunch for now.”
“Don’t bother, I have to go to the library with my friends.”
It blinks at you before turning back to the counter and nodding. Shuffling files in it’s head, filing your words.
“Who are you going out with?”
An amused snort leaves your nose.
“What are you? My boyfriend? They’re just friends from my class.”
Your words are supposed to be amused but end a little bitter because damn you really are that single. Why are you joking like that with an android of all things. When was the last time a guy even kissed you?
…
Whatever….
You don’t care about boyfriends anyway. The last one you had ended with him stepping over boundaries and endlessly pissing you off.
Maybe you were just lonely.
You feel something cover the sun’s rays from the window, the warmth on your eyelids no longer present. When you open them, your android’s face is very close to yours. You flinch back and scream.
“Wolf!”
Man.
You hate this fucking thing.
It straightens back up before it’s lips twitch into a barely there smile. Looking down at you as it’s eye flicker and LED goes yellow. You have no idea what it’s thinking. Is it amused that it scared you?
Sadistic freakazoid android.
“You have to tell me their names.”
You wait to see if it’s joking and when you realize it’s not, you relent and tell it their names. It’s just Karla and some other people from your writing class. It nods with precise head movement as its LED flickers again.
You leave with your backpack on your shoulders and a wave as you say goodbye to your android. When you gather with your friends, you look weary and tired from the day that just transpired. When they ask, you almost open your mouth about it but then you remember that no one knows you have this android.
It’s really weird for a broke college student to have an android so you shut your mouth and not say anything. Shrugging it off with a smile and studying for a certain test in chemistry that made you suicidal.
…
Life has been okay with your new roommate. Save for the fact that after every class, you go to a different Cyberlife store to inquire if they take back a KS500 android. Most androids immediately reply with a polite No. and promptly kicks you out.
Human workers pale and sweat before they shake their head and disappear. Leaving you to stand there before you groan and stomp your feet like a kid.
You almost want to write on a huge billboard and put an ad on it but you’re fucking poor.
And the fact that no store takes it back is really concerning for you.
When the friend who gave it to you as a birthday present calls for the first time in three weeks and too many stores to keep count, you answer with a growl like a dog with rabies.
It was after the 15th store and too many miles away, the sweat beading on the back of your neck. She apologizes for not texting or calling sooner because her boyfriend blew up her other phone.
“Why the fuck can’t I return this thing?”
“Bro you’re telling me you’re already giving up on it? Did you even fuck it???”
“THAT’S YOUR CONCERN?????”
“WELL I WANT TO KNOW WHAT ROBOT DICK IS LI-”
You hang up on her.
You hate your friends. Actually you just hate her. Actually you just hate yourself for not having the dick and balls to just auction it off yourself. But man, you really don’t wanna go through with shipping and thinking about stuff like that. You sadly do have a life and it consists of going to class and studying.
Your phone dings as you stand on the sidewalk, opening it to see the grade book of your statistics teacher.
A big fat 1/50 on the screen.
You almost fall to your knees in public. Instead you stand there in silence as you think about every way to end your life.
You’ve been so preoccupied that you failed your math test. A factor you forgot to consider in your quest to get rid of your android.
…
Who needs statistics anyway?
(You started choking yourself when you remembered you only got one question right.)
Choking back the tears that arise in your eyes, you put on a brave face and call your friends on this fine friday night. You walk back to your apartment with determination in your eyes and a good outfit idea.
Because who cares that you can’t return your android that might kill someone. Who cares that the friend who forced it into your hands isn’t even available to you? And who cares that you failed your math test?!
All you need is copious amounts of alcohol, your friends, and a shitty frat party!
No one will stop you from having a good time, not even your professors failing you!
Though it seems someone else is hellbent on it.
Your android corners you while you snap on your sneakers that were made for the disgusting floors of frat houses. It’s hand fixed your fallen dress strap but you’re too busy cursing at your dirty ass shoes. You got the text that your friends were almost here and you didn’t want to keep them waiting.
“I have to guard you.”
“Why the hell would I want that?”
“It would be safer if I went.”
Annoyance flares and apparently your android doesn’t get the memo because it keeps insisting. You don’t want to bring it, it’s embarrassing. What do you even tell your friends? That your fucking guard dog of an android has to watch you?
“You-!”
You jam your finger into its plastic chest. Your finger hitting soft fabric as your other hand curled into a fist shakes. Humiliation crawling over the back of your neck because of everything in your life.
“—Are staying right fucking here. You won’t ruin this for me.”
You seethe out to your plastic piece of shit. Biting your lip hard where the lip gloss you put on glistens. The tears you were trying so hard to hide bubble up but you refuse to let them fall.
You hate that your android looks so human.
You just want this one thing.
“Wolf. You will stay right here.”
It meets your eyes, unamused and indifferent before it crosses its arms over its chest. LED a mean red before it settles back to blue. A twitch to its lips, looking away from you. As if it was humoring a stupid little kid.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll stay right here then.”
It’s fingers mock you and you almost stomp on its fucking feet. You grab your phone and keys before slamming the shit out of your apartment door. Leaving the bane of your existence alone in your apartment.
…
The doorknob turns while you’re recalibrating next to her bed.
Clicking into defensive mode because of the late hour, you stalk out to see who is coming into the apartment. Then you see your inferior owner, stumbling in wearing a dress and tripping over her heels. Just before she can faceplant on the floor, you dash forward to grab the base of her hair.
You don’t realize that this would harm her, voice whining out loud. Triggering your vocal recognition as you let go of her hair to where a breath of relief is let out. Roughly grabbing her face so your hand cups her face. Makeup a little smeared and her eyes watery.
She’s pouting up at you and you stare down. Your programming not built very well for human comfort. She looks as if she may try to hit you but your pupils expand as you confirm facial recognition as well. She’s murmuring something but you don’t pay attention as you scan her face. .
Words flash in your eyes, text spanning next to her face as she looks up at you. Her hands grasping your chest.
Owner detected…. Confirmed.
Releasing defensive mode.
She’s whining in your hand, squirming in your robotic grasp. You stare at your owner, who’s completely vulnerable in your grip. Your plastic hand, still cupping her cheek, snaps away. Feeling odd that you let it stay there in the first place.
You decide to try and question her to know what is wrong with her. Your model a little older, not having the specs needed to tell if your owner is actually inebriated or not.
“What was your alcohol intake?”
“I dunnnoooooo… Who give a fuck!!!”
She mumbles, starting to stumble into your chest. Smelling your collared shirt and jacket issued by Cyberlife. Hands wrap around your waist and your hands hover over the shoulders of your
owner.
That didn’t solve anything.
But you did know that this wasn’t… normal behavior for her.
You can’t process what to do as she clings to you. Your owner is usually snappish with you and a bit annoyed all the time. Tired and subdued when she’s exhausted. Usually when she’s studying or early in the morning when she shoves you aside to make her coffee.
But now she was…
“Why…. do you cause so many problems for me?” Is what leaves her lips after a beat of silence. Your eyes are blinking down at her, trying to decipher her words. Face hidden in your chest as her hands bunch in the back of your jacket.
Her form shuddered as if she were cold. You don’t understand what’s wrong with her.
“What do you need?”
You ask like you always do. Because you need orders to function properly. And your orders can only come from your owner. Said owner is silent and it’s warm in her apartment.
Her holding onto you five steps away from the door she left ajar, you move to close and lock it. Pushing her off abruptly as you walk to do so, sliding the chain lock for protection.
How inebriated is she? Who was she with? Did anyone follow her?
You think about running reconnaissance.
“Why do you need to ask?”
A small voice pipes up behind your back. While you’re running a check on her protection, you snap your head to look at her. Her voice not registering as the normal one you registered “content” under.
You stand straight in front of the door as you face her. She’s standing there with heels next to her on the floor. Dress wrinkled and her hair tangled as she lifted her head up.
Eyes look up at you with smeared eyeliner and mascara. Cheeks flushed with the general look of inebriation within humans. Her lips twisted and bitten under her teeth.
“Why can’t you give me what I need…?”
Her eyes swirl with something you’re not familiar with. Before it drips down her cheeks. Wet with human emotions. Emotions you couldn’t process.
An AX400 would be able to respond to this situation.
An RK800 could adapt to it.
(Anything from the KS series was not equipped with this programming.)
“You can command me to do anything you want.”
You grit out with clenched teeth because you don’t understand why she’s acting like this. It’s perfectly obvious why you’re programmed like this. You could cook for her, be her sexual partner, fight for her. You can do anything she wants if she just tells you to. You don’t understand what's wrong with that.
But humans are far more complex than you could ever imagine.
And your owner has fallen to her knees, her hands to her face. Sobbing on the floor, blubbering incomprehensible words. Hair falling over her eyes, damp and sticking to her face.
This is far beyond what you are capable of helping. But something twinges in your chest, a broken wire; it has to be. Your eyes flickering as you look down at your owner. There are no threats to your owner at the moment. There is nothing you can protect her from.
But her voice is watery and slipping through the coding behind your eyes. You want the beating in your robotic heart to stop so you take strides forward and lift her up. She’s whining all the way like a petulant child that you were not coded to appeal to.
Walking with you like a newborn baby deer while you have an arm wrapped around her waist. Her legs stumbling with your longer ones as you shove her into the bathroom. Her nose still runny when she sniffles while sitting on the top of the toilet lid.
You stare down at her before sighing just closing your eyes. Exasperated with your owner’s behavior. You’re sure your LED has been flashing yellow for the past 10 minutes.
Suddenly, there’s hands in your hair. Fingers running through synthetic fibers as they shove you down so you’re kneeling on the floor. Your knee on tiles and when you look up, your owner is giggling. Tears forgotten for some reason.
“Hehehe… your hair is so soft….”
You’re confused. But lean into it because she’s laughing. Her crying from before surprisingly triggers something in you that is not supposed to happen unless she’s in danger.
“It’s synthetic fiber.”
This doesn’t seem to change her mind as she keeps her fingers in your hair. Running through fluffy brunette locks.
“Can uhhhh…. can you change it?”
Her voice slurs out as she has a dazed smile on her lips. Well at least her tone isn’t triggering combative mode. You stare in her cloudy eyes as she waits like an excited child.
“Accessing KS500’s hair colors….”
You cycle through some generic colors, which garner some reactions from your very inebriated owner.
“That is so ugly.”
“Hahaha! Blonde does NOT go with your face!”
“Mmm you look like a generic K-drama male lead.”
She whines and asks for more which you deliver. Red, yellow, blue- to which she whines even more and says they look terrible on you. You don’t know what you’re feeling but it’s making your eye twitch even though you’re not running a diagnostic.
When you turn your hair purple, her jaw drops. Fingers running through the tips of your hair, resting them on each side of your neck.
“This has gotta be the worst one.”
You’re about to change it to something else but she pulls you into her chest. Her face in your now magenta hair as she giggles maniacally, hands running down your back where she’s locked you into this position with her.
“Mmmm keep it. ‘S funny….”
And when you look up, she looks as if this is the happiest she’s been the whole month. Face flushed as the strap to her dress has fallen off her shoulder again.
In the bright light of her bathroom, her lips on the crown of your head. Hands wrapped around her for stability. Your fake heart thumps rapidly for no reason at all.
You do as she commands.
…
You’re never fucking drinking again.
Your head is pounding.
Head currently in your toilet bowl vomiting up whatever you drank last night.
When you turn your head to see your android walking to you, you’re confused.
Really confused.
“Why the fuck is your hair purple?”