Chapter Text
Even the thought of talking made Sixty feel exhausted. His vocal component was overtaxed, and regardless, his verbal processing program couldn’t come up with words for him to say. Everything just felt... foggy, like he was watching a video. Maybe he was. Maybe he was still in stasis. He didn’t remember going into stasis, but if it was anything like human sleep, he wouldn’t remember it.
Then again, he remembered Nines waking him up a few hours before. It was a weekend, so none of them had work, but there was some event at the android community center that Connor helped organize, and they were supposed to attend. It felt like something was pressing Sixty down into his mattress even though he didn’t have a weighted blanket like Nines or Connor.
(He borrowed Connor’s blanket when he was at work or out with friends. He didn’t need his own, it was just... nice, sometimes.)
He didn’t go with them. He made it as far as moving to Connor’s bed, with the fifteen separate blankets Connor insisted on using plus the weighted one, and sank into his brother’s bed.
“You alright in here kid?”
Sixty’s systems startled and lagged so hard he sat right up in bed, all of his covers sliding off as he spun around to face the voice. Hank was frowning in the doorway with Sumo sitting behind him. Sixty opened his mouth to speak, to say yes and to leave him alone, but nothing came out.
“Right. Stupid fucking question. Can you send, like, texts or whatever it is you three always do when you think I’m not paying attention?”
Sixty smiled, but shook his head. Nines and Connor were still under the impression that Hank had no idea when they were wirelessly talking about him, like their LEDs didn’t give everything away.
“Hm, shit. Alright. You up to helping me look for something?” Sixty nodded again warily, but slipped out of the bed. “C’mon, it’s in the garage, I think.”
Nines had been organizing the garage for the past month, while Sixty watched and gave what he thought were very helpful suggestions. He moved everything from cardboard boxes into thick plastic totes and labeled them. Every weekend, all four of them would help go through a selection of totes to get rid of anything Hank didn’t want or need. They could almost fit the car there, finally.
One corner of totes remained untouched. They all knew why, but no one said it. It was enough that the items inside were protected from potential flooding or other weather damage.
Hank went right for that corner. With a deep breath (and shaky vitals Sixty wished he could decide not to read) he snapped the lid off the top tote in the pile, neatly labeled Cole. Nines had been extra careful with these boxes, placing each item in just the right way to prevent any damage to their contents. This one held two stuffed animals, a plastic bag filled with action figures of emergency response workers, a separate bin of fidget and stim toys, and some sort of tablet.
Hank pulled the tablet out and hesitated before closing the tote back up. Taking another deep breath and without a word, he walked quickly back into the house, and Sixty followed. He pointed at the couch and walked back off towards Connor’s room. Sixty sat, frowning. Hank knew Sixty couldn’t send messages, and the thought of typing was... unpleasant. The words just wouldn’t come together, like something was wrong, like he was broken.
He didn’t want to be broken.
When Hank returned a few minutes later, he threw three blankets over Sixty, including Connor’s weighted blanket. “Okay, now that my fucking breakdown’s done, back to you. This hasn’t been turned on in... four years... But it should still work.”
Once the device was plugged in, the screen lit up. It loaded up a program showing pictures and words, almost like a keyboard.
“Cole had trouble talking a lot of the time, but he knew how to talk and how to read, he just couldn’t get the words together,” Hank said quietly. “So they recommended this. Helped him tell us what he wanted so we didn’t have to try and guess back and forth.”
Sixty nodded. He quickly looked around the screen, selecting Animals, Dog, and then the custom one following it.
Sumo
The voice sounded just like a child; impressively, it didn’t feel stilted and awkward like early AI voices. The dog looked up from his sleeping spot nearby, ears perked up and tail wagging. Sixty grinned and pressed it again, Sumo, Sumo, Sumo , until Sumo jumped up and pounced on him with a soft boof. Hank started laughing, trying to shove Sumo back down off the couch, but Sixty didn’t miss the glassy look in his eyes.
“Cole did the exact same thing when he found that one,” he explained.
Sixty flipped back to the main menu and clicked a few at once using the pictures to guide him.
He is smart.
Hank gave him a sad smile and nodded. “Sure is. Some of the words are going to be pretty fucking useless for you, but I bet Josh and Markus can fix them like with those subtitles you’ve got.”
Thank you dad.
Sixty stared down at the screen as the tablet read the words out. Unlike when Connor first said it out loud and pretended it was a programming glitch, Sixty couldn’t say it was an accident. Hank had watched him go into Family, Dad , and select it. He couldn’t take it back.
Sixty didn’t always feel like he deserved a family, especially not this one. In darker moments, he told himself they were all just pretending to tolerate him; he knew he could be... difficult to handle. But this - a device handed down from a (technically) older brother, from the section of the garage Hank avoided at all costs, because Sixty was like Cole?
That felt different. It felt good. And Sixty wanted Hank to know that.
After a long, long, painful few moments, Hank reached over and ruffled his synthetic hair before dropping his arm to rest across Sixty’s shoulders. The nervous energy sparking in his thirium lines faded and he leaned into the casual hug.
“We’ll have to get the sounds changed too,” Hank said. “So we’ll have to hear it in your own goofy fucking voice.”
The word Sixty wanted was out of reach, so he settled for a mix of presets that almost described what he meant. I’m not done.
“Yeah, yeah, prototype. Smartass. Alright, pick a shitty movie for us to watch while Nines and Connor are still out and can’t bitch about how terrible they are.”
Sixty grinned again, knowing exactly which one to go for. There was a list set up, presumably Cole’s favorites, and he clicked the button the moment he saw it.
Shark Tale
“Fuck’s sake kid, I said a shitty movie not the worst movie.”