Work Text:
Nick came to his senses—only to find himself tied to a chair. The room was dark, save for a single light hanging from the ceiling. He tested the binds. They held tight. So tight that he couldn’t move.
He squinted past the near-blinding light, searching for a clue as to where he was. A figure moved in the darkness beyond.
“Someone there?” he said. “You wanna give me a hand, pal? I think there’s been some kind of mistake.”
The figure stepped closer; the dim silhouette had squared shoulders and a gangly form. A suspicious hum met Nick’s ears.
“…I smell a robot,” the stranger said. His voice carried an odd, nasal tone.
Nick raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a synth, actually,” he said, “but that’s not important right now. Can you get me out of here? Or at least tell me why I’m here in the first place?”
“You have something that belongs to me.”
“What?”
“Shut up. I’ll be asking the questions, robot man. If that is your real name.”
“My name is Nick.”
The man crossed the room. Before Nick could react, the stranger slapped him.
“Shut up!” he said.
“What the hell—”
The stranger slapped him again. Out of habit, Nick let his head snap dramatically to the side. Of course he could keep still if he wanted; the stranger’s blows felt no stronger than that of a tall, terrible-looking child. But experience had taught him that pretending to be hurt would usually make the assault end sooner.
The stranger stepped back into the shadows, returning with a terminal on a cart. He slammed the keyboard and woke the screen. In the dim green glow, Nick could see that he had neatly combed hair and a three piece suit.
“You look, mortal—if mortal ye be!” he said. “You look! And you tell me what you see.”
“You kidnapped me and tied me up just to make me read a monitor?”
“Prove,” he shouted, pointing at the screen, “prove you’re not a robot!”
“But I am a—”
The stranger slapped him again. He took Nick’s head between his hands and forced him to look at the terminal.
“Look at these curvy letters!”
“If I read the damn things, will you let me go?”
The stranger raised his hand for another strike.
“Alright, alright, hold your horses.” Nick squinted at the screen. “Let’s see… it says…”
But they didn’t look like any letters he had ever seen; they shifted and moved, distorting a little more every time he blinked.
“Having trouble? Robot man?” The stranger accused.
“Well, they’re much curvier than normal letters!”
“Not an easy test, is it?"
“It’s just—I can’t tell what some of these symbols are. Is that an ‘E’ or is that a ‘3?’”
“That’s up to ye .”
The stranger slapped him yet again. This time, Nick didn’t play along. The sound of flesh striking metal echoed through the room. The stranger turned away and waved his hand about, hissing in pain.
“Will you cut the theatrics and just tell me what the hell you want with me?” Nick said flatly.
The stranger tucked the hand under his arm and drew himself back to his full height. He stuck out his chin.
“I’ve devised a question that no robot could ever answer!” he said.
Nick rolled his eyes.
The stranger typed something into the terminal, then pointed to the screen. “Which one of these pictures does not have a stop sign in it?”
“Oh for Pete’s sake… I don’t know, alright? Is that what you want to hear?”
The stranger rubbed his chin and glanced at Nick sidelong.
“Hmm. The passwords of past, you’ve correctly guessed,” he said.
“Then will you let me go—?”
“—But now it’s time for the robot test!”
He threw back his head and let out an impish, cackling peal of laughter.
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing the whole damn time?” Nick said, trying to cut through the grating noise.
The man did not respond; he merely continued to laugh.
“Oh, come on!” Nick said.
Just then, the sound of shattering glass split the air. A shot rang out; the man clutched at his arm. A form leapt out of the darkness behind him and knocked him to the ground. Even in the shadowy room, Nick could just make out the sight of blonde hair.
Sole stepped into the light, a pistol in hand. She placed her boot upon the stranger’s neck.
“Alright buster. You got five seconds to tell me what you think you’re doing with my husband.” She glanced at Nick. “You okay?”
“Good to see you, Doll. Yeah, I’m okay.”
She nodded, then turned her attention to the man on the ground.
“Alright, you’ve just earned yourself a few more seconds,” she said. “Now start talking.”
“I just… wanted to see… my stuff…” the man said.
He took an empty money clip from his pocket and tossed it across the room. Then his head lolled to the side; he dropped into a dead faint.
Nick and Sole exchanged a glance. He shrugged. She rolled her eyes and shook her head in resignation.
“Whatever,” she mumbled.
She left the man on the floor, drew a knife from a sheath on her thigh, and cut Nick loose.
“Thanks,” he said. “Got any idea who this guy is?”
“Not a clue. He looks like a crazed game show host.”
She cocked her head and squinted at the man.
“ ...With strangely feminine hips,” she added. “Anyway. Come on, sugar. Let’s get out of here.”
“Right behind you.”
He took her arm, and together they left behind the mysterious man who appeared to be neither young nor old, but merely gross.