Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     “Look, you can see the person in the monster costume!” a man sporting a bright red jumpsuit said in awe, pointing at the atrocious implementation of visual effects excitedly.
     The translucent monster, a cross between a Godzilla-like creature and a bird with a majority of its feathers missing moved slowly as if the individual maneuvering within was preventing themselves from tripping and falling.
     “Why’s the chick standing there? She’s got exactly one hour and five minutes to run away!” added a robot, whose cylindrical head was comparable to the top portion of a gumball machine.
     “Pssh,” a second robot whose body was lined in gold plating scoffed. “she could’ve saved that clean-cut man of her dreams from being eaten alive.” His tone was rather negative as if he did not want to watch the movie.

     Well, obviously he didn’t want to.

     He, the other robot, and the young man were forced to watch terrible B-movies against their will by a mad scientist and his subservient minion. To prevent themselves from losing their minds they would commentate the films they watched, which made the movies more palatable. But the gold robot’s demeanor wasn’t the product of a passive-aggressive temper tantrum. He came off as more frustrated than usual; he was obviously in a very sour mood. He crossed his arms impatiently and sunk into the reclining theater chair.

     As the film progressed the shiny robot’s remarks became more annoyed. At some points nearly he nearly fell asleep, only to be jerked awake by the shrieks of people being eaten alive by a monster or crying at the loss of their friend who was eaten by the same monster.

     “Joel,” said the robot, audibly sighing.

     “What’s up, Crow?” asked the man.

     “How much longer until commercial break? I need to stretch my legs.” Crow lied. Normally I can handle watching horrific films but jeez, I feel God awful and this isn’t working as a distraction, he thought.

     “Just a few more minutes,” Joel responded.

     The robot to the left of Joel suddenly gasped. His eyes widened, bewildered as to what could’ve brought such a dramatic reaction.

     “Tom, any time you exclaim like that I get the sinking feeling you’re going to point out a celebrity look—”

     “Get a load of this: it’s Not-Warren Beatty!” Tom yelled.

      Crow’s bowling pin shaped mouth opened slightly and leaned forward, deeply observing the man on the projector screen. He shrugged.

     “Eh. I guess it looks like him. He looks more like the bastard child of Orson Welles and Dan Castellaneta, though.”

     “We can continue talking about whatever male celebrity the man responsible for unleashing the monster resembles after the break,” Joel chuckled, carrying Tom securely in the crook of his arm while he exited the theater. Crow stood behind briefly, sullenly watching Joel walk out before following behind.

Chapter Text

     “Servo, I don’t know what’s up with you making jokes about celebrity look-alikes,” said Joel as he walked into the main room in the Satellite of Love.

     “but you’re very much getting a kick out of them.”

     “Obviously, Joel. Celebrity look-alikes can make almost anyone go in hysterics!” Servo said, offended.

     “Don’t take that the wrong way, Tom! It’s not a bad thing.” Joel reassured him.

     While the janitor and robot continued their conversation about celebrity look-alikes and even celebrities with similar voices but completely different appearances, Crow was silent. He wanted to go to his room and be alone. Ever since he woke up he was completely out of it. He was overwhelmed with a looming sense of dread and melancholy. He felt fatigued and less energetic. The brown-haired janitor soon took notice of Crow’s silence. He nudged the robot’s shoulder.

     “Hey ‘Art,’ you alright? You look glum today.” Although Joel used a nickname that was endearing, Crow only felt more irritated.

     “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” he said quickly.

     Joel became more suspicious and worried about his friend.

     “Did you get any rest last night?” he pushed on.

     “Yes, Joel. I got some rest.” Please stop talking to me, he thought nervously.

     “Did you eat anything?” Joel asked. He had redesigned Crow’s energy tank to be able to decompose food into fuel as a means to use less oil. At this point, the discombobulated robot had enough. He desperately wanted to get back into the theater again.

     “ I had two sleeves of saltine crackers and a pint of coffee, is there anything else you want to ask me? Do you want to know if I made my bed? Do you want to know if I woke up when I’m supposed to? Do you want to know that I think the movie we’re watching is absolute bull and I don’t want to see another single minute of it?” He snapped, his attitude abnormally hostile.

     Joel shook his head, flabbergasted by what he heard come out of the usually wisecracking robot’s mouth. Servo’s hinged mouth dropped. He had never seen Crow this angry before.

     “You heard that right. I don’t need any of your stupid food or concerns. Please, for the love of God, stop worrying about me.  I’m  fine , and that’s that.”

     The robot started to breathe heavily. He could feel himself panicking, becoming hyper-aware of his trembling claw hands. His legs were like Jell-O, wobbling erratically. He looked at Joel and at that very second, he knew he screwed up. Crow was swamped with a wave of guilt, though was so overwhelmed he couldn’t speak. His mouth moved yet nothing could come out but stutters.

     Something’s not right, Servo thought to himself. There’s obviously something going on with him.

     Crow staggered back to the theater interior, nearly tripping and falling along the way. While Crow was returning to his seat Servo watched him nervously fumble. The lanky robot glanced at his friend for a split second, his face caked in remorse.

     As he entered the theater Joel ran his hand through his short brown hair, eyeing every nook and cranny in the main room. This couldn’t possibly be happening, right? Getting angrily yelled at by a robot that wasn’t a retort as a result of reprimanding said robot from making not safe for work comments during a movie? But anything can happen on the Satellite of Love, can it not?

     “...I guess someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.” Joel muttered.

     “Give him some space, Joel,” Servo said firmly. “I’ll check up on him when it’s been a few minutes.” Joel nodded. He always felt that Crow and Servo’s relationship was tight-knit, probably because Crow is also a robot and therefore can relate to the robotic life.

     Ten to fifteen minutes later, Servo entered the theater, hovering onto a theater chair next to his companion.

     “Hey, are you feeling better?” He asked calmly.

     Crow nodded hesitantly, still guilty of his outburst towards Joel. Fortunately, a majority of his tension was put at ease. He loved hearing Tom’s voice, especially whenever he broke out into song. It felt like a warm hug to him or sitting by a fireplace while jazz quietly played in the background.

     “I guess. Thank you for checking up on me, Tom. It means a lot.”

     “It’s no problem,” he said. He then turned his head to the entrance of the theater, which was ajar. “Alright, Joel!” He called out. “You can come in now!”

     Joel entered the theater and approached the two robots.

     “Joel, before we watch the movie,” Crow leaned forward, his head jutting out. “I would like to apologize for the incredibly rude remarks I made. I take full accountability and realize that I hurt your feelings and I want to know if there’s anything I can do to make up for it.”

     “I wasn’t mad, Crow. It was just… unexpected.” Joel said, unbothered.

     “You’re probably right Joel. I do think I need some sleep and some food. After the movie, I’ll get something. Again, I apologize.” Crow murmured.

     Joel rubbed the robot’s snout, smiling.

     “Don’t worry about it.” Joel looked at Servo, who was sitting in the incorrect spot.

     “You do know that’s where I sit, right?” Joel questioned.

     “Let me sit here for the rest of the movie,” he said, protectively.

     Joel blinked, confused. “Is there any reason?”

     "I just want to make sure Crow’s okay. Yeah, yeah, I know it’s your job to watch over us, but let me do the job for you this time.”

     The man placed his hand on his chin, thinking deeply. “Eh, why not?” He plopped himself down into the seat to the right of Tom.

     Crow was startled, yet at the same time was flattered by Tom’s solicitous behavior. Servo wanted to… look out for him? He cared about him? He indulged himself in the feelings of warmth and positivity; the realization that  Tom Servo, the robot who wore his heart on his sleeve, the same robot who had an even more theatrical, suave voice, cared about him.

     Even with these feelings that were looming in the robot's mind now exemplified, Crow’s loneliness and fatigue was still a black hole, the primary emotions he felt all day becoming a spaghettified mess, consuming all. He shook his head, regained his composure, and relaxed in the chair, hoping that the hopeless feelings within him would subside or remain dormant for the rest of the evening.

     “Let’s finish up the movie, shall we?” Joel said ardently. Tom and Crow’s voices rose and rumbled in agreement.

     The movie resumed, and the three film abductees continued riffing once more.

Chapter Text

     The end credits of the unbearable 1960s monster movie began to roll. Servo uttered a yawn while Joel stretched out his legs and arms. Crow felt his sadness creep onto him once again, feeling the last bit of mental energy get sucked out. He tried to keep up with Joel and Tom’s commentary but often felt himself forcing his reactions, doing the best he could to prevent his friends asking if he was okay. He appreciated Servo’s kindness and Joel’s worrying but felt like his entire presence was a hindrance. Even his lewd comments were strained.

     “Phew. What a movie,” said Crow as he pretended to wipe his brow with his wrist.

     “You were a lot more enthusiastic this time around. Still tired?” Joel queried as he scooped up Servo. He began to make short strides out the theater.

     Crow got up so fast he nearly fell over. “Y-yeah,” he stammered. He trailed behind Joel, walking at an average speed. “I’ll manage, though.” I doubt it.

     Returning to the main room once again the man and his robot friends were getting ready to go to their quarters and rest for the night. Crow stood alone by a counter, tapping his hands on the surface out of boredom.

     “...you can let go of me now, Joel,” the lustrous robot overheard Servo talking. “I’m touch starved, but not that touch starved.”

     Crow rumbled in laughter. He, too, longed for physical affection of any kind, even though it was a lot easier for Joel to carry robot that wasn’t as angular or as tall as him. A few minutes later Crow felt a hand nudge him. It was Tom, holding a bar wrapped in reflective plastic.

     “I brought you a granola bar. Chocolate chip, your favorite.” He said proudly.

     Crow gingerly took the snack from Servo’s hand. He was shocked again by Tom’s act of kindness. He looked down at the rectangular form of rolled oats and confectionery and then back at the automaton. Crow was at a loss for words. Despite not having a set of eyes Servo’s gaze was well-meaning and tender.

     “I thought it would help you feel a bit better. Joel suggested that you eat something, didn’t he?” Tom said proudly. Crow unwrapped the granola bar and gnawed on half of it. He felt himself get hot from embarrassment, feeling the chocolate chips melt on the plastic wrapping.

     “I…” Crow’s fixed look was broken as he awkwardly looked around in all directions but the one facing Servo. “Uh…” The energy bar began to take the shape of Crow’s palm.

     “No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for.”

     An airy, skittish chuckle came out of the glossy robot.

     “Yeah… Yeah! You’re right.”

     “I’m gonna shower and then hit the hay. We have to get up early tomorrow so don’t stay up too late!” The robots heard Joel say as he walked to his room, his voice and footsteps becoming quieter.

     “Goodnight Joel!” the robots said in unison, both waving.

     Servo turned to Crow once again. “Goodnight, Crow.”

     “Goodnight, Servo. Sleep well,” he responded. He watched Servo whisk himself away into his quarters. Crow stared at his left hand, which held the now misshapen bar. He threw it in the garbage bin and carried himself off to his bedroom, mentally preparing the imminent ruminations his mind would conjure.

Chapter Text

     The lanky robot fixed himself on his circular memory foam bed surrounded by blankets and sheets. He pushed his feathery pillow against the wooden headboard and leaned his head on it. He turned on the bedside lamp and it illuminated the room with a soft, yet vibrant violet light. He observed the walls of his room.

     It was plastered with artwork and mail sent by fans, ranging from crayon drawings made by 7-year-olds to detailed artwork crafted by young adults. He appreciated the fan mail immensely, though he never got the same amounts compared to Joel and Tom. He often had letters psychoanalyzing him to a T, talking about how he puts on a façade and isn’t as confident as he presents himself to be, which left him personally attacked. He sighed to himself. He was convinced the whole galaxy pitied him and nothing could be done to ever change it. A hard to swallow pill, indeed.

     He looked down at his hands and felt a sudden impulse to tear down the fanworks and letters, for in his eyes they were sent to him only because he wasn’t as popular. Right as he was about to get up he heard a knock on the door. He quietly yelped.

     “Crow, are you awake?” It was Servo.

     Oh, god damn it! Crow thought. He felt his adrenaline rush and body temperature rise again.

     “Come in!” he silently hissed, making sure Joel wouldn’t hear. His room was right across from Joel’s sleeping area.

     The door creaked open and Servo floated to the side of Crow’s bed.

     “Servo, it’s 1:30 in the morning! You should be asleep. Joel said we have to get up early.” Crow warned, turning himself to face him.

     “So should you. Plus, you know how Joel is. He’s a heavy sleeper.” Servo retorted playfully.

     Crow shook his head, flustered by Tom’s clever reply. Holy shit, he’s smooth as hell! “Good point, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

     Servo was hushed for a brief second.

     “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about you.” He said earnestly.

     Crow tilted his head slightly. “Servo, I’m fine. I’ve already said that. I appreciate everything you’ve done to make sure I’m okay, but I’m fine now.”

     “No, Crow. You aren’t fine. I could tell after the break after you lashed out at Joel, you still weren’t okay. I read you like a book.”

     Crow felt himself tense up. “Servo, please, I can get through this myself.” The robot’s voice became more tremulous.

     The shorter robot took Crow’s hand.

     “Talk to me. I’m here.” His voice was amorous and trusting.

     “I don’t want to be a burden,” Crow mumbled, gripping Servo’s hand tightly.

     “What makes you feel like you’re a burden?” Servo queried.

     Crow took a brisk, airy breath.

     “Every now and then, the realization that me, you, and Joel are practically being held hostage sinks in. It makes me feel homesick, even though this is the only home I’ve ever had. I pretty much have the robot equivalent to depressive episodes. It’s horrible. I’m able to bounce back from them pretty well, but not this time.”

     Servo nodded, assuring Crow that he was listening.

     “It makes me wonder if planet Earth still exists, was destroyed by the people that inhabited it, or decimated by some asteroid. I also have been thinking about Joel. I get sick nearly to the point of puking thinking about how if there were another human on the Satellite of Love, he would’ve befriended them.

     He would’ve never created me. He would’ve never created you.”

     While listening intently, Servo let go of his friend’s hand and noticed a pile of sheets, blankets, and headrests atop of a small couch. He glided to the couch and picked up a long, thin memory foam pillow.

     “What are you doing?” Crow interjected from his venting.

     “You’ll see. I’m still listening, don’t worry.”

     Crow went back to laying down on his bed again and continued. “I feel like fans don’t even care about me. I feel like they only send me letters out of pity.”

     Tom made his way back to Crow’s bed and placed the pillow onto his upper body. Crow had a perplexed look on his face, though he was certain there was a method to Servo’s madness.

     “I wanted to be more open about my struggles and I wanted to tell Joel but I was scared that he wouldn’t take me seriously.” He felt his voice crack.

     Servo lifted himself up and rested on the pillow. He was close to Crow’s chest now. The pillow was used as a cushion to prevent their vastly different body structures from causing discomfort. Crow gasped softly. He could feel the heat emitting from the small toy car engine block plastered on his barrel-shaped body. He soon processed that he was, indeed, in Tom’s embrace. A look of satisfaction spread across Crow’s face as he inclined his head downward, watching Servo comfortably unwind.

     “You aren’t a burden, Crow. Never have and never will. And the reality of us being stuck on the Satellite of Love is a lot to stomach, but bonding with each other by watching the films we’re given is a form of escapism. Well, to me at least. We’re all doing our best to cope here, so you’re not alone in this endeavor,” Tom said empathetically.

     Crow hesitantly wrapped his long limbs around the other robot’s torso, unsure if Servo would react positively. He held his breath waiting for a response.

     “Focus on healthy coping mechanisms and taking care of yourself. You’re a screenwriter, aren’t you? Make drafts or produce ideas for your next film! It’ll occupy your mind. What else do you do?” Servo continued.

     “Aside from working on scripts and watching films, that’s… all I really do. I have a couple of books, one of them being about self-care. I guess I’ll read that soon! Usually, my coping mechanisms help but sometimes they aren’t enough. It’s good to have backup plans,” He answered, his voice hinted with optimism. He quickly forgot what he was nervous about and clasped Servo firmly.

     “Crow, I think you forgot why Joel created us.”

     “Huh? What do you mean?” Crow asked Tom.

     “Remember that he was the only test subject of the Mads’ experiment. He created us as a means of companionship and coping.

     Without us, he’d lose his head.” Servo emphasized.

     Crow’s jaw dropped.

     “I never really thought of it that way. That… that explains a lot, actually. It all makes sense now.” He said, heaving a sigh of understanding.

     “Joel loves you. And he’s grateful for the both of us sticking with him. Never forget that. Ever.” Servo delivered profoundly.

     All of Crow’s fears and worries were swept away, his mind now clear with heartfelt faith and trust in Tom’s reassurances.

     “Thank you, Servo,” he murmured, affectionately touching his confidant’s transparent candy dispenser head with his elongated muzzle.

     Servo turned his whole body around, staring directly at Crow. “You’re absolutely welcome. I care about you a lot and I can’t stand seeing you upset. The most I can do is be a shoulder to cry on every once in a while.”

     “I care about you too.”

     Crow was silent for a minute.

     “Servo, I need to tell you something. What I’m about to say is not a sudden, rash declaration and has no correlation to what happened tonight,” he blurted.

     “Hm?” Servo said, curious to hear Crow’s remark.

     “I want you to know that I admire your passion and how emotional you are. I love whenever you break into song or make references to rock bands. Every single word you say sounds like a symphony and your laughter sounds like heaven. Sometimes when we watch movies I get distracted because I’m so mesmerized by your voice. That alone is what makes me wake up in the morning, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

     I love you, Tom Servo, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you as my partner.” Crow enunciated, his distress and uneasiness now succinct.

     Servo began to laugh. “You know, there’s  one good thing that came out of being stuck in an intergalactic space capsule.”

     “What do you mean?” Crow questioned.

     “I’m laying down with the love of my life in the dead of night, and I couldn’t ask for more.” He nudged his significant other lovingly.

     Crow broke into a fit of giggles. “Servo, you’re such a dreamboat! You never fail to sweep me off my feet.”

     Feeling extra daring and ecstatic Crow gave Servo a quick peck on the lips.

     “Well, aren’t you cheeky?” Servo said, humored. The two robots continued laughing like there was no tomorrow. They were aware of how late it was—around 2:15 in the morning—but they didn’t care. All they thought about was each other, and how from that very moment they were now boyfriends.

     It was now 3:30 in the morning and the lovers were restless. After volleying sweet nothings to each other, they spooned underneath the electric violet sky that was the bedside lamp. The light emanating from the lamp obscured Servo’s transparent head, making it appear as if the light was contained. Crow, the big spoon, enfolded the little spoon, Servo. They progressively became more and more sleepy, sometimes falling in an out of consciousness. They cuddled in silence, though it wasn’t silence associated with stress or loneliness; the kind of silence that eats one away when distraught. It was the sweet silence of being in the same presence as an individual one would care about and value.

     “Thank you for listening to me, Servo. You have no idea how much it means to me.” Crow proclaimed, his voice soft and delicate.

     “You’re absolutely welcome. I love you.” Servo replied deeply.

     “I love you more.” The molybdenum robot cooed. He turned his head to observe the time. The alarm clock’s red hue showed that it was 3:45 in the morning. He felt a twang of nervousness as he was worried Servo would get up to go back to his room.

     “Tom?” he asked.

     “Yes?” Servo answered, half asleep.

     “Would it be alright if you slept with me? I want to wake up with you in my arms.”

     “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. How could I say no?”

     Crow’s eyes lit up as he finally switched off the table lamp. The bedroom was completely pitch black as the robots got ready for bed. He rolled onto his back and held Servo in the bend of his elbow.

     “Goodnight, Tom. I love you very much.” Crow murmured, draping a light blanket over him and Servo.

     “Sweet dreams, ‘Art.’ I love you too.” Servo replied as he enveloped himself in the sheets.

     In a matter of minutes, the newfound couple dozed off with sweet dreams in their minds, unbothered that they would have to wake up in a matter of hours. All that was important was they were together, and closer than they’ve ever been.