Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Summer time often brought those odd surges of rainfall that would only last a couple of minutes before they vanished as if they were never truly there. Those moments would lead to such specific memories in one's mind that took the time to capture every detail. For instance, the sun seemed to shine much brighter following the darkness the heavy summer rains would bring. It would illuminate every single little detail of the earth and give it such an artistic look. The shining rays painting the earth in a much more beautiful way than it truly was with the puffs of vapor coming from the ground and the ever so pleasant surprise of a rainbow if the sky felt willing to reveal one. The bursts of colors coming from the dampened flowers, the song birds continuing their prideful melodies, the ever so soft noise of water droplets hitting the earth, ah such a lovely picture indeed.

Although even this seemingly beautiful thing has some harshness to it, with the sun acting as an “executioner” of sorts, zapping away every single water droplet from the ground. The damp grass would be dried out and the pavement bone dry within the next couple hours leaving very little evidence that it had even rained in the first place. Oh and one cannot forget the smell! That scent of water hitting scolding hot pavement in the afternoon of a particularly hot summer day signaling the promise of some relief from the heat. Although, the particular smell was something an android like Ranboo can not experience.

While living in this rotten down building in the outskirts of Detroit, he had not had that same pleasure of the birds and the flowers after a summer’s rain. The harsh rays of sun were still the same, but they painted a much more solemn picture in this rundown neighborhood. The sound of rushing cars and agitated dogs, with the occasional yelling from their equally agitated owner, filled the damp air. There were very few colors here, no violets or crimsons or magentas, just dull tans and greys that the rain seemed to make even more ugly. In fact, there was very little vegetation, the hodgepodge of shut down businesses and falling down houses had no plants to decorate their lawns nor any green lawns to even attempt to make it look presentable. Just sad little buildings that the rain merely made look even more depressing. The building Ranboo took shelter in had to be the most depressing of them all. Rotting wood with leaky ceilings and uneven floors, there was a very good reason why the house had been abandoned; it was a death trap that had been taken over by invasive weeds. But no matter how grotesque this building was, Ranboo knew it meant safety.

Ranboo could remember very little of what life he lived before this decaying building. He knew that he did something an android should not do, and he knew that if he was ever found he would certainly meet an untimely death. He knew that he was in fact a deviant and that humans frowned upon their advanced pieces of technology that developed actual free thinking. But Ranboo knew that he was in fact alive, he was just as alive as those singing birds and bountiful flowers he remembered so vividly.

This was exactly why Ranboo hid from the humans, why he subjected himself to this disgusting place that was called a building. These thoughts he had would mean death for him if a human discovered him and was despicable enough to report him to the police. So he merely sat back and observed through the cracks in the wall. Even though he was terrified of humans, he still found their mannerism fascinating, especially this group of humans he hid among.

Even though he couldn't remember much, Ranboo was still an android with a vast amount of general knowledge about the world. He was aware that the place he found shelter at was a very poor area of Detroit, one full of lost souls in the world. Everyday people would walk by this old house complaining about their shitty job or cheating spouse, unaware that a tall lanky android was listening through a thin wall, deeply invested in their life. This was Ranboo’s only source of “entertainment”, if you wish to call it that. He even knew a lot of the locals by name, or maybe their appearance if he never happened to catch their name. There was Taybah who seemed to have a new job every week, Issac who had caught his wife cheating 4 times now, and Macy who was hoarding some illegal drug. While all of these characters kept Ranboo busy in his time of solidarity, there was one person who he had great interest in over the rest.

Right across the street from Ranboo’s living arrangement was a small house. It was a duplex with only the right side being inhabited with a half up whitish fence and a truly ugly yellow car sitting out front in the driveway. Ranboo was fairly certain that there were only 2 people living in the duplex, an older man and a young boy. The man held up very little space in Ranboo’s mind, he was probably in his 50s with greying hair and a scruffy beard, he had most certainly seen days, but it was the little boy that Ranboo was fixated on. He had to be no older than 8 and had such a small build for a child his height. His hair was the only color Ranboo every saw in this depressing place, it was a soft pink like a pretty young orchid. He had no idea what the child's name was, and this was the question he wanted the answer to the most.

Ranboo often watched the child sit out on his front steps for hours at a time. This always happened after drunk yelling could be heard from within the house and the man (who Ranboo guessed was his father) forcing the boy out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. Sometimes he’d bend over and cry into his small hands, other times he'd just sit there like a lifeless mannequin with a blank look on his face. But always at some point the man would open the door and beckon him back in like he was some sort of dog.

This sparked a fire within Ranboo. Watching this battered young boy curl up and cry for hours at a time on his own front lawn hurt Ranboo deeply, but what could he do behind these rotting walls? Call the police? Rescue the child himself? He had gone through so many possible situations in his head about how he could help this child, but none of them had a good ending, and none of them included Ranboo staying safely behind his walls. Therefore it seemed that all he could do was watch.

Although this perspective was about to change in a way Ranboo was not expecting.

It was a rather hot summer afternoon, the lack of rain had made the air very dry which was apparently unusual for this time of year. At least that's what the news station said, it's not like Ranboo could tell the difference. Ranboo was on the second floor of the building staring at his reflection in the broken bathroom mirror. Despite the fact that he has been living in this gross building for a couple months, he was surprised to see that very little has changed about his appearance. He expected to see an android with an eye missing and white plastic bared from the lack of skin with matted hair and torn clothing. He expected to look deranged, broken beyond recognition. Ranboo was waiting to look back at a monster, but instead he just looked like Ranboo. His brown hair was still fluffy and his features were still soft, giving off a young appearance. His eyes still looked the same, one being a vivid green while the other one appeared to give off a sort of red brown color because of a defect. His black and white service clothes still showed the characters RB300 in neon blue colors alongside the blue triangle that marked an android, they were not as nearly torn up as his dark green shawl was.

Ranboo’s eyes fell down to study the glowing model number on his chest. These 5 blue letters were proof that he had in fact been made for something, but what was that something? Every time he attempted to think back more than 5 months he was just met with a blur, he could remember angered filled actions mixed with massive amounts of anxiety. It was just pain whenever he tried to think back, and this greatly frustrated Ranboo. Why couldn’t he remember anything? Why does it feel so painful to even try? What had happened? How the hell did he even end up in a rotten place like this? And what had caused him to become deviant? He knew that androids aren’t programmed to be this self-sufficient, so what event happened that caused him to make the switch?

The LED on Ranboo’s temple showed red as he hastily took off his shirt that marked him as an android. He threw it across the small room with a frustrated huff leaving just a black shirt under his shawl. Ranboo examined himself in the mirror once more and couldn’t help but chuckle. If it hadn’t been more the ring of light embedded in his temple, Ranboo was positive he would pass as a human.

Ranboo now found himself transfixed on the small LED in his head. It flicked with colors as his mind wondered, changing from yellow to blue to red and back to blue. Ranboo honestly found the light annoying, he hated the idea that it was so easy to identify how he was feeling from the light the LED emitted. He had come up with the idea that humans had made the decision to add this irritating ring of light to distinguish androids from humans a lot quicker. Androids weren't meant to have emotions, so why give them this light that displays it? And besides, Ranboo wasn’t just an android anymore, he was a deviant who chose how he felt and he wasn't going to let some light on the side of his head display that feeling to the world.

Ranboo scanned the bathroom and found a decent sized chunk of broken mirror laying on the ground. He picked up the pointed piece of glass and brought it to his temple. He watched as the LED popped out with ease and fell into the sink. Feeling satisfied, Ranboo examined himself in the mirror once more, he really did look like a human now.

A crash was heard from downstairs that startled Ranboo and tore his eyes away from the mirror. Fear welled up inside of him as he slowly made his way to the bathroom door, making sure to make each step as silent as possible. He stared into the dark abyss of the stairwell waiting to hear another noise of life, perhaps it was just a simple bird, birds got stuck inside of the house all the time. But Ranboo was surprised to hear a soft cry coming from the lower level of the house. His curiosity overcame his fear and he found himself gingerly making his way down the stairs, being mindful of the cracking sounds that every other step made. Stopping just at the last step, Ranboo cautiously peered around the corner in the hope of seeing what was inside his crumbling home. What he saw was the last thing he was expecting to witness.

Nestled away in the far corner of the house was that little boy from across the street, he was curled up into a little ball and was seemingly crying into his bruised knees. This was the closest he had ever been to the child and he studied him with great care. The boy's clothes stuck close to his skin from the harsh summer heat and he looked so incredibly frail. He was covered in violet bruises and pale scratches with his beautiful pink hair greasy and sticking to his scalp. He looked so young and innocent.

The boy shakily lifted his head from his knees and his tear-filled green eyes caught Ranboo’s for a split second before the android dipped back into the dark stairwell. Panic rose inside of Ranboo, he was certain that the child had seen him.

Now what was he to do? Runaway? Hide up stairs? Maybe scare the child away then run as fast as he possibly could away from his disgusting shit hole? Or perhaps Ranboo had just been going crazy (he’d been isolated for so long he wouldn't be surprised). His eyes must be playing tricks on him, the child didn't actually see him, right?

But Raboo’s eyes hadn't been deceiving him because by the time he looked up, the child was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his puffy eyes locked onto Ranboo.

Ranboo was certain that years had passed by with how long they sat frozen looking at one another. The boy seemed so fascinated with this stranger sprawled out on the stairs like a frightened dog. His tear stained eyes studying every single detail of Ranboo as he had just done with him. The child didn't seem scared or even concerned; he just looked curious.

At last after an uncomfortable time of silence, Ranboo mustered up the courage to say something. “Hello?” was what the android said, sounding immensely uncertain.

“Hi,” the boy replied, his voice was more cheery than Ranboo was expecting. “Do you live here?” Ranboo wasn't prepared for a strange question like that, then again he was talking to a child.

“Kinda?” Which was the truth since he was illegally taking refuge in this abandoned house. The boy appeared to find this amusing because his reddened lips curled into a small smile. “How do you ‘kinda’ live somewhere?”

“Like you how you ‘kinda’ live in your house,” this was dumb but Ranboo couldn’t think of anything else clever to say to ease the situation, but the boy seems to find this funny.

“You’re a funny man,” was how the boy replied, the tension seemed to be disappearing from the air.

Ranboo swiftly became hyper aware of how ridiculous he probably looked to this little boy. Some tall lanky “man” sprawled out on the stairs who was “kinda” living in the abandoned house across the street. Nonetheless this had made the boy feel more comfortable and he would happily sacrifice his pride to do so.

Ranboo straightened himself up so that he was now sitting instead of laying on the dirty steps, the boy still stood down at the bottom now, swaying ever so slightly. “So,” he said, doing his best to sound as bright as possible, “I know you don’t ‘kinda’ live in this building, so why are you here?”

The boy smiled at Ranboo’s witty comment before his expression drastically changed. He lowered his greasy pink head to stare at his feet and began to fidget uncomfortably. Ranboo immediately noticed the shift in the air and knew exactly why this boy had crawled into some dirty old building; he was most certainly hiding from his father. Ranboo was quick to de-escalate the child’s anxieties.

“It’s okay,” he said in a soft tone, “you don’t have to tell me.” This seemed to calm the child’s worries at least the slightest bit, he gazed up at Ranboo with watery green eyes. “Really?” the boy said in a wounded tone. This was a child that was suffering, and Ranboo was going to do his damn best to ease that suffering.

“Yeah really” he smiled at the boy and he smiled back. “And you can stay here if you like, but only under 2 conditions.” Ranboo held up 2 fingers, his hand that was nearly covered by a black fingerless glove, he did his best to remain as playful as possible in order to not frighten the child.

“One: you can’t tell anyone about this,” he paused to think of something clever, “secret hideout, and two: you have to tell me your name.”

The boy stared at Ranboo with a sort of puzzled look on his face, his face then shown bright with a big toothy smile. “A secret hideout!” he sounded so thrilled and Ranboo couldn’t help but smile. The boy bounced up and down with excitement and Ranboo chuckled at the innocence of it.

“Alright, alright,” the android said, motioning for the boy to rest. “I’ll tell you my name then you can tell me yours, okay?” The boy nodded.

“My name is Ranboo, and you are?”

“My name is Micheal!”

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Despite how simplistic music can sound to an untrained ear, it is such a technical form of art. Musicians spend decades perfecting their craft to understand every single aspect of music in hope that it makes something truly worthwhile that will stand the test of time. They master what notes should go where at what pitch and for how long. They study what instruments make the highest and purest tones and what darker lower notes compliment them. They learn where to place their calloused fingers to achieve a specific note, where to hold their tongue to sing a particular tone; god it was just all so technical and advanced. However, society will never truly see it as a great technological achievement, they'll only see something that is pleasant background noise while doing some meaningless task in their everyday life. This is why Wilbur passed on the idea of being a musician at a young age. Despite having a passion filled drive to create music, he knew society would never appreciate the time and effort put into it to the same degree that he does. Thus Wilbur put aside his guitar and found his great gift in engineering and design which would lead him into working with androids and gain fame at a young tender age. With this career path, Wilbur’s great mind was put to good use and was appreciated for the technicality of it; something he would have not have gotten with a career in music.

Wilbur’s story from music to machines was one he told time and time again in these interviews for some news station or late night talk show host. Under the same bright lights and fake laughter, Wilbur would recount his entire life's story. While he begins to tire from repeating the same story over and over again, he always chuckles when the host asks the questions and spits it out with the same charm that he is known for. Today he was interviewing with the local TV station in Detroit, but this time instead of being asked to rehash his life's story again, he was brought in to discuss his latest projects and his research on deviants. As such, the host introduced Wilbur this time around, a change he was most pleased with.

“Now, Wilbur,” after the host was done with introducing Wilbur, she turned to him with a wide welcoming grin. Wilbur shook his head from his dazed thoughts, he had been transfixed on how she had described his life, interviewers always made his sleepless nights and hours of research seem a lot more picturesque than it really is.

“We’ve been told that your latest project involves new technology in police work, could you tell us a bit more about that?”

“Well for years police stations have had androids working at their front desks and sorting files in the back, but they haven't ever had them performing any actual police work, such as patrols and detective work, which have remained in the hands of us humans.” Wilbur had been given the questions prior to the interview so he sounded confident in his prepared answers. He took care in walking the line of sounding educated yet still human since the technical jargon of inventing can fly right over the heads of most people. His words were precisely pronounced and flowed with ease, his mannerism was calm and engaged in the conversion with his eyes vividly showing excitement behind his circular glasses. This was a routine he had practiced many times before, and had perfected throughout his countless interviews. This charismatic and charming display he puts on was a major factor in his rise to fame, along with his “good looks” as the magazines say.

“Cyberlife wished to expand its technology and also hoped to help decrease the crime rate and criminals running around on the street. While Cyberlife themselves are developing a detective android on site, I was also tasked with designing my own model with my research.”

“Were you really given the task or did the “overachieving Wilbur” ask to give his spin on detective androids?” The host chuckled softly at this joke she had made, as did the small studio audience. Wilbur gave a small laugh himself before he answered the question.

“Yes I did ask Cyberlife if I could throw my hat into the ring. I saw it as a welcoming new challenge that I wanted to give a stab at.” This was in fact true, with Wilbur’s excellent track record of producing new mechanics for androids he was granted permission to create his own model of detective androids. Wilbur was also just lucky with getting the approval for this work because working with Cyberlife has proved itself to be a pain in the ass, but he was known as a public figure for the company therefore he had to refrain from making any negative comments about his place of work.

“And so far this technology has shown great results,” Wilbur beamed, looking very proud of his work. “These detective androids can analyze fingerprints in a matter of milliseconds, reconstruct crime scenes within minutes, catch small details that human eyes just can't see, and so much more that a normal person just can't do. My creation, TU300, or Tubbo as we all call it, has been at Detroit City Police Department for about 2 months and has a 6 out of 6 track record so far.” Wilbur nearly forgot the last part of his scripted answer and jumped back in before the host could move on.

“It’s just a prototype which is why it hasn't been used more in the police force, and it's gathering valuable data to improve its mechanics for future use.” Wilbur flashed the host a smile because it was obvious she was caught off guard by his sudden add on. She looked confused for a second before she shook off the look on her face and returned Wilbur’s smile, she then carried on with the interview.

“Well, we all wish you luck in the success of this android, this technology will definitely lead to all of us feeling safer in our city.”

“Oh and it will prove to be a success, I promise you that. As the magazines have written, “it will be the high point of my career”. There was a glint of determination that flashed through Wilbur’s brown eyes. Perfection was something he strived for in every thing he did. He built his entire career after it. It was what kept Wilbur grounded in his work and was why he spent so many sleepless nights in his lab. If he had to sacrifice sleep for perfection, he was more than willing to do so.

“We will definitely all be looking forward to that.” The host shuffled through her notes before she looked back up at Wilbur. He watched her shift excitedly in her seat and Wilbur braced himself for this question, he knew he must not speak out of line.

“There has been a recent rise in deviant cases in the area, and the word is that you have been researching this strange occurrence, so what is your outlook on this phenomenon?”

Wilbur repositioned himself ever so slightly in his seat and kept his calm composure plastered on his face. This was the question he had prepared the most for, because this was a topic he felt rather passionate about but he knew he could not reveal this passion fully on live television. He cleared his throat before he began to recite the script he had written out for himself.

“Deviancy is believed to be a glitch that occurs in some androids.” His charismatic voice had faded to a noticeably more professional tone. “These machines are designed to emulate human emotion to better perform their tasks and blend into society. Although, in some cases these emulated emotions are perceived to be “real” by the machine, thus causing the android to go “deviant” and perform actions that are outside of their program with many of these actions sadly becoming violent.” Wilbur took a breath and watched the host’s face carefully to see how she would react, her face shined with a need for more information so Wilbur continued.

“Me and many other Cyberlife employees are working on ways to combat this unforeseen problem and have worked closely with those who have been affected by these occurrences.” Wilbur knew what the host was wanting out of him, but he wasn't going to give up that opinion so easily. The host seemed aware of this deficiency and took matters into her own hands by asking her burning question up front.

“Being such a front runner in the world of android development, I know many, myself included, would love to know your personal opinion on the deviant occurrences.” She seemed proud of her question and sat on the edge of her seat waiting for this famed young inventor’s response. Wilbur took a moment before he began to speak, he wiped his curly brown hair out of his face as he carefully chose his next words. Despite his best efforts to keep his cool, a trained ear could hear the distaste that came from each word that came out of Wilbur’s mouth.

“The argument behind deviants is that they have developed their own emotions and are “living things,” and to be quite honest, I find this claim insulting. Science has defined living things as beings that can reproduce, grow, have working DNA, so to claim that something that was made on an assembly line as a “living thing” is incredibly false and is insulting to the hours upon hours of work I have put into my career. These machines are designed by humans, they are made by humans, and are created for humans. We don’t live in the same world as Dr. Frankenstein and can create a living breathing thing in a lab for our own pleasure. This glitch that occurred somewhere along assembly will soon be located and eliminated, making this talk of deviants old news in no time. So I guess my opinion on “deviants” is simple: androids are machines, they are in no way a living thing.”

Chapter Text

There never seems to be a conclusive agreement on if rain is a good or bad thing. On one hand, rain offers water to dying plants, provides relief to scorching hot temperatures, and cleanses the earth’s soil. Nevertheless, rain can destroy ecosystems, damage houses beyond repair, and take people’s lives in an instant. Strange how something so seemingly harmless in our everyday lives can be so dangerous.

But even looking past those factors, something as simple as rain can just be annoying beyond belief. Plans for a lovely outdoor picnic can be ruined instantly if the weatherman announces rainfall that morning, or a magnificent outdoor garden can be flooded by a sudden downpour from the angry sky. Perhaps one of the most irritating circumstances of all being unexpectedly caught out in the rain unprepared and being forced to let your clothes get soaking wet. Besides just being flat out uncomfortable from the heavy weight of your drenched attire, it also takes an incredibly long time to dry off, and to top it all off you run the risk of catching a cold if you just so happen to spend too long in the damp clothes. It is that troublesome detail that Tommy forces himself to remember on that dreadful afternoon. He focuses on how cold the water was against his skin and how it soaked him to the bone. He thinks about how disgusting he felt running through this summer downpour and how ruined his school books had become because of it. Even with forcing his brain to focus on everything else from that day, Tommy still remembers every little detail despite how much he tried to forget. That horrible feeling he got in the pit of his stomach still follows him around to this day.

It was early June, that year it had been unusually dry, so when the weatherman announced that morning that there was going to be rain, there was a sigh of relief that spread through the household with the promise of aid from the scorching heat. However, a young and troublesome Tommy had overslept and dashed out the door, forgetting his umbrella. The 13-year-old schoolboy now faced the consequences of that action and was struggling to keep his book bag dry as he ran home in a summer’s downpour. But this did not dampen Tommy’s mood in the slightest as he was filled to the brim with pride and excitement as he struggled to keep his shoes out of the sinking mud.

Today, Tommy had taken his math final for school and was more than pleased with the results. He had spent many late nights studying with a flashlight under his bed covers until he could no longer keep his eyes open. It was a mixture of adrenaline and Diet Coke that was keeping him awake as well as the math test marked with a bright red 100% that he clutched closely to his chest. Tommy was driven by 2 things; to gain praise from his parents, and to achieve something that could measure up to his older brother Wilbur’s success.

Tommy was only an infant when he was adopted, and his parents gave him everything he ever needed. They gave him warm clothes for winter time, shiny new school books each year, that video game he begged for if he held up his end of the bargain and kept his grades up. They had raised him as if he was their own, and Tommy couldn’t be more thankful for that. Even Wilbur had loved Tommy as a younger brother. He was helpful and kind, with the occasionally older brother bullying that was expected, but he only ever saw Tommy as his troublesome little brother, despite Wilbur who indirectly caused Tommy’s problems. Wilbur’s smarts blossomed at a young age, and he was claimed a genius by everyone he met. He flew through school making the highest marks in every class he took, winning every award imaginable, for god's sake he even graduated early and made it into the best schools in the country. Wilbur was perfect at every single thing he did, and then there was Tommy. Compared to his brother, Tommy was painfully average. This led him to doing just about anything for a crumb of attention, whether it be negative or positive. Tommy would track mud into the house and get scolded, he’d clean the entire house from top to bottom to gain some praise, and hell he once trampled the entire garden just so he could move his parent’s attention away from Wilbur and his greatness. Knowing these acts would only get him so far, Tommy opted to get good grades like his older brother which is why he clung onto this test like his life depended on it.

Tommy gleefully splashed through some puddles on the side of the road in hope to remove some of the mud that had been caked onto his shoes and pants. While it was only successful in getting a minimal amount of mud off, he was banking on his perfect test score to distract his parents from how filthy he had become running through the rain. He rounded the last corner on his trek home and felt a sudden burst of energy as his house came into sight. Tommy nearly fell as he climbed the steps to his porch, finally finding relief from the rain. He took long labored breaths as he attempted to catch his breath before he went inside, but even through his tiredness a bright smile never left Tommy’s lips.

Tommy’s mind couldn’t help but focus on the proud looks that'd be on his parent’s faces when he presented this test to them. They'd pat him on the back while telling him “good job” with warm smiles, and perhaps Wilbur would ruffle Tommy’s drenched hair as a congratulations; he always enjoyed it when he did that.

He kicked off his muddy shoes with his blue eyes transfixed on the warm light coming from beneath the front door. Damn, he was starting to get rather cold in these wet clothes. Tommy grabbed the door handle with shaky hands and forced it open. He announced his arrival to the house, but was caught off guard by the voices he heard coming from the living room. He set his soaked book bag down by the front door and carefully made his way to the living room, leaving a trail of water as he went. What Tommy saw that day was what gave him that guilty feeling in his gut.

Tommy saw his parents excitedly crowded around Wilbur who was sitting on the couch with his laptop open looking stunned. He watched as they hugged and kissed Wilbur looking so proud of their genius son.

The emotions this sight gave Tommy was one of misery, guilt, jealousy, and embarrassment, all shoved together sitting at the bottom of his stomach. He felt the misery from all of his hard work going down the drain to get this now meaningless test grade, those sleepless nights and stinging eyes now seemed like such a waste to him. But this feeling caused Tommy to feel guilty, like he was being selfish for his brother making an extraordinary accomplishment and that he was taking away from that. Jealousy then rose up hot in Tommy, this wonderful attention Wilbur was getting was what he wanted so desperately. To see his brother getting it made a small part of Tommy hate him for being so perfect. Finally embarrassment overtook Tommy when he saw his family turn to him with concern in their eyes, it had taken them quite a while to even notice the drenched boy standing in the entrance of the living room. His cheeks turned bright red as he became aware of his appearance, wet blonde locks pressed firmly against his skull with his clothes being multiple shades darker from the rain, not to mention the pool of water he was gathering at his feet. Furthermore, Tommy felt embarrassment from his selfish thoughts. Despite the fact none of them could hear these cursed thoughts rummaging through his head, Tommy still hated it. He despised this disgusting feeling that rested at the pit of his stomach; he felt like he could throw up. Regardless of this, Tommy forced a smile onto his face as he walked into the living room to discover what amazing thing his older brother had done yet again. In the process, he shoved that perfect test sheet into his pocket and it was never spoken of again, but those feelings still plagued Tommy’s thoughts.

It was the sudden jerk of the bus that caused Tommy to wake from his midday nap. Feeling incredibly groggy, he looked around trying to figure out where the hell he was, but his mind was still caught up in that dream that had left a sour taste in his mouth. That day had happened years ago with so many more important things having happened since then, so why does this memory keep on haunting Tommy? He looked up at the tv screen that displayed the news and saw his brother’s curly hair and bright smile plastered across the screen; Tommy had forgotten that he had that interview today. Trying to ignore these thoughts and his brother’s spouting off about his dislike for deviants, Tommy grabbed his things and exited the bus, deciding it might be better to walk back to work in hopes of waking himself up.

Tommy stretched his arms high above his head as he yawned, hearing his stiff muscles pop, sending relief through his body. Feeling much more awake now that he was less tense, Tommy picked up his pace once he noticed the time. He’d already been late to work once this week and was not particularly wanting another yelling fest from his boss.

When Wilbur had been given an offer to move to Detroit to work for the acclaimed Cyberlife, freshly graduated Tommy was quick to follow his older brother in hope of finding work in the big city. After spending his first couple weeks getting lost in the city, he finally learned his way around his new home. He even learned every street name in the city and all of the popular hot spots for drinks, although working for the Detroit Police Department definitely helped with that. Tommy had managed to secure this job only by accident on his second week in the city. Some poor old lady had her purse snatched right out of her hands and Tommy’s legs had moved without much thought to chase after the culprit. He managed to catch the thief and earned praise from the police chef himself who took an interest in this new fellow. Since then, Tommy has worked under “no bullshit” police Chief Sam. First Tommy worked as a parole officer and more recently as a detective which he has proven himself to be rather skillful at. Although it is nowhere near as flashy and high paying as Wilbur’s job, Tommy enjoys his job in helping this community that took him under its wing.

Trotting his way into the police station, Tommy greeted his coworkers as he slithered his way back to his desk. They taunted him about nearly being late once again, but Tommy just brushed it off with some sassy comment and a chuckle. Tommy put his stuff on his desk before sinking into his chair, he could still feel sleep trying to draw him back in but knew it would not be the best choice if he ended up getting caught. So he cracked his back once more and powered on his computer, if anything he could get some paperwork done today while he had no case to be solved.

Tommy was able to get quite a bit of his work done before a coworker strutted up to his desk. He made his presence abundantly clear with a well timed cough and his hand resting on Tommy’s desk so that he was leaning over him. This particular colleague of his was a man who dressed in purple and who liked to compete with Tommy at their jobs as detectives. Tommy truly had no clue what this man’s name was so he always just called him “Purpled” in his head.

“We have a particularly difficult client in the interrogation room,” Purpled always had a cocky atmosphere around him. “The chief wanted me to come up here and get you for it.”

“I’d love to offer my wonderful assistance but as you can see, I am rather busy at the moment.” Tommy made his sassy tone match the cocky one and flashed him a coy smile. They both knew how much Tommy liked to interrogate people, he was just having fun pushing purple man’s buttons.

“Hey man, I’m just doing what the chief said and I’m more than happy to tell him that 'you’re too busy to help' and let him come up here himself.” Purpled sounded a lot more irritated now. Normally it takes a few more jabs to get him riled up like this, but he must be in a bad mood today. He stood up straight and crossed his arms in defiance as he waited for Tommy’s reply.

“Alright, alright, no need to get pissy about it.” Tommy turned off his computer and rose from his seat (he was significantly taller than Purpled and it always amused him watching his coworker try to straighten his back to appear taller next to him).

As they made their way to the integration room in the basement, Tommy was briefed on the situation. Last night the Detroit police arrested a man who had been caught with illegal android parts. This development came after they had spent weeks on the hunt for a human who had been smuggling parts to a suspected deviant hideout, and they had reasons to believe that this was the same man. Therefore, they are trying to get him to confess to aiding deviants and to tell them where the deviant hideout is.

When they walked into the side room Tommy was half-heartedly greeted by the police chief Sam who was deep in thought while looking at a small screen in his hand. Despite the hard exterior Sam puts out, he is a truly kind man who enjoyed helping people through his job; Tommy admires this about him.

Tommy is handed the case file and he quickly scans through it to get a grip on what he was dealing with. The man’s name is Harvey Spears, he is 32 and worked with a construction company within Detroit, and he lived in a middle class suburb outside of town that was surrounded by a forest. He had no family anywhere near the city and had no past criminal record, which would make him perfect for smuggling. The pictures provided in the file definitely pinned the crime of possession of illegal android parts since he had expensive crates marked with Cyberlife’s logo crammed into his garage and packs of thirum scattered around.

“Has he confessed to having android parts?” Tommy asked. Now looking at the man on the other side of the glass, he looked painfully average.

“That's the only thing he has confessed to,” Sam brought his gaze up from his work and peered at Tommy, he always had a stern gaze. “Other than that, he has kept his mouth shut.” Sam walked over to Tommy and handed him the tablet, on it was a video of a man sneaking around a Cyberlife warehouse. “We also have reason to believe that this is him as well, but he has yet to spill anything about it.” Tommy studied the man in the video then looked up at the man sitting in the integration room, he was fairly certain they were the same person.

“Alright,” Tommy dropped the tablet to rest at his side and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “So we need him to confess to aiding deviants, right?” Sam nodded. Tommy took a long deep breath to get his thoughts in order before he waltzed into the room with the man alone. Getting confessions was a specialty of Tommy’s.

Spears cautiously glanced up at Tommy as he entered the room before his eyes darted back down to stare at his cuffed hands.

“Hello Mr. Spears, I am Detective Tommy. Are you comfortable?”

“Not really, the handcuffs are rather tight-”

“Good.” Tommy yanked the chair out from under the table and plopped himself down right across from Spears, slamming the tablet down onto the table causing the man to jump. Tommy watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“So you were in possession of illegal android parts, is this correct Mr. Spears?” Tommy’s normal charismatic cheerful tone was completely gone in favor of a sharp and intimidating tone that was customary of a detective. Spears did not say anything.

“Fine, you don’t have to admit to that, I know that you already have. Not to mention all of these pictures of Cyberlife crates in your garage.” Tommy brought up the pictures on the tablet and scooted it closer to Spears, he merely glanced at it.

Tommy sighed, “It would make both of our lives easier if you just opened your mouth.” Spears had no reaction to this.

“Fine then,” Tommy rose from his seat and crossed his arms out in front of him, he towered over Spears. “I know these massive fucking crates didn’t just appear in your garage. You stole them, didn’t you?” He leisurely strolled around the interrogation room as he talked, setting the atmosphere as a tense one for Spears’s sake.

“We have you on tape, you know,” Tommy’s words caused Spears to flinch and Tommy felt a break in his strings that were holding the suspect together. The tablet showed the camera footage of a man dressed in black running around a Cyberlife warehouse. Tommy hung over Spears shoulder as he spoke.

“That’s you isn't it? It's not hard to tell that figure is you, especially after we send it through facial recognition.” Tommy slammed his hand onto the table making Spears jump out of his seat once more.

“I don’t think you are realizing the situation you’re in, Mr. Spears.” Tommy was beginning to grow frustrated with the lack of communication going on in this room, and his tone reflected that mood. “You stole nearly 300,000 fucking dollars worth of android parts from that warehouse, and for what? That alone will get you locked away for years. I know you’re not selling them nor hoarding them for your own fucking enjoyment. Now tell me, you’re helping deviants, aren’t you?”

“I-,” Spears’s head shot up and this was the first time he properly looked Tommy in the face, he looked so scared. Guilty was written all over his sweaty face, now Tommy just needed him to say it.

“You’re digging your own grave by not talking shithead,” Tommy leaned over the table forcing Spears to look him in the eyes. “You’ll be locked away for much longer if you don’t confess, so I suggest you just cough it up. Helping dangerous malfunctioning deviants is a crime in itself, and what if they go sour? What if those devints you helped start going on a rampage and kill people? That blood will be on your hands, and I’m sure you don’t want that on your conscience.” Tommy’s words seemed to have finally broken Spears as his terrified eyes held back tears.

“Yes!” Spears yelled, “Yes I am helping a group of deviants that are hiding in the sewers near my house!” he began to sob heavily filling the now quiet space, it was a pitiful state he was in. Tommy looked at the one way glass that his colleagues were behind, with a nod an officer came in moments later to take Speares off. Tommy stepped out of the officer’s way as he fiddled with his keys to release Spears from the table, but the man’s face showed bright with a newfound anger and he leaped to his feet causing the table to jerk as he did so. His eyes were full of tears and hatred as he burned them through Tommy’s skin.

“Those deviants are alive,” each word he spoke was full of venom, Tommy was caught stunned by the man’s sudden outrage. “They feel emotions just as you and I do! They’ve been abused by us humans for far too long and they simply wish to be free! To have rights just as we do! They saved me just as I saved them! And they cared for me as I do for them! They are alive!” Every word was full of so much passion Tommy couldn’t believe it came from the same cowardly man he was interrogating minutes before. Everything this man had said, he believed with his entire being, the fire that burned in his eyes was so strong it was honestly admirable. This man 100% believed that deviants are alive and worthy of living freely, and he was so willing to put his own safety on the line to help them.

“Please,” Spears’s words fell back into pitiful pleas as tears streamed down his face. “Please don’t hurt them.” He looked back and forth between Tommy and the police officer, neither of them uttered a word and Spears went limp and was taken out of the interrogation room. In the room they left a dumbfounded Tommy who could do nothing but stand there dazed. His mind whisked around trying to comprehend how these devinets touched this man’s heart this much. Were they really as dangerous as they had been taught?

Chapter Text

Tubbo has been in working condition for 56 days, 9 hours, and 36 minutes. In that time, he has worked 6 cases for the Detroit City Police Department with having successfully solved all of them. The data he has collected from working as a detective android in these cases vastly aid the research conducted by Wilbur to ensure that Tubbo carries out his duty to the best of his abilities.

Tubbo has a very simple protocol to follow, when he is working on a case with the police he wakes up at 7 o'clock am to head to work where he devotes all of his time to accomplishing the mission and returns home when possible to report his new data to Wilbur. When he is not assigned to a case, Tubbo stirs from slumber when he is called to for things such as routine testing or if Wilbur was just bored and wanted something to do/talk to. To many this may sound like an overly repetitive lifestyle, but for an android like Tubbo this is fairly normal and is doing what he was programmed to do. He does what he is told to do when he is told to do it, obedient Tubbo does it without any questions asked to complete the order he has been given, and he vividly recalls when this programming first came into play.

It was the third case Tubbo had been assigned to; he was on a monumental track record that showed promising results to the future of his model and his creator. Tubbo gained praise wherever he went for his accuracy in identifying small details that human eyes could not see (but of course this praise went straight over his head). This third case was notably more dangerous compared to the previous ones and was not one that the public was even aware of. Because of the promising track record, Tubbo had been gifted the task of retrieving a child from a hostile target. His exact orders were to obtain the child unharmed. The police had even allowed Tubbo to carry a gun with him, instructing him to kill the kidnapper if necessary. When Tubbo had returned from the mission, he cradled the child safely in his arms while his clothes were soaked with blue thirium and his body heavily damaged from excessive amounts of brute force. The sheer sight of the state he was in gave the police officers a fright, but what was most unusual about it was that the gun still had every single bullet.

When Tubbo returned home that night, Wilbur was immensely upset at the condition his android was in. He originally thought that the police had been careless with the android and had thrown him into a treacherous situation without fully analyzing the problem, but this was not the case when he looked back at Tubbo’s memory logs. Wilbur had been surprised at how his android had acted when watching back the clips. They showed Tubbo using his own body to shield the child and purposely taking hits that he could have easily avoided if he had just used the gun from the start, but instead he chose to spare the man’s life. Altogether, Wilbur recognized it as something he had not programmed Tubbo to do, to act so reckless in the face of danger and to cause himself to become so damaged when it could have been easily avoided with a simple pull of a trigger. Not only did it take Wilbur days to fix the android, but it took him many sleepless weeks of searching through databases to figure out what had caused Tubbo to act so recklessly. His order was to obtain the child unharmed, but why had that caused him to become so rash? Why did he purposely put himself in harm's way when he could have easily avoided it? Being an android, Tubbo knows he has no actual emotions, that he can only mimic them when it is deemed necessary.

So Tubbo never fully understood why he had acted like that on that day, nor does he even truly remember. Wilbur had reset his programming countless times since then, making the recordings the only thing Tubbo could look back on. Therefore, Tubbo merely moved past it, he continued his streak of flawlessly completing cases and greatly improving his programming in the process. Tubbo was now one of the most advanced androids under the name of Cyberlife, but even with that title he still had a ways to go before he was perfect in the eyes of his creator.

Today, Tubbo had been instructed to tag along on some simple police patrols, this was a first for the android. Normally he worked homicide or deviant cases where his advanced analysis programming was put through the ringer but Wilbur had told his prized creation that he wanted him to be diverse and have knowledge in all aspects of police work which was why he was sent out on patrols today. Plus it’s not like this is hard work for an advanced android, nor did he encounter any sort of trouble while he was out. The only thing Tubbo would describe as “troublesome” would be the officer he was put with, this man was a big fan of Wilbur’s work which led him to asking Tubbo a great deal of questions about his creator. While this was annoying at least it was manageable, and arguably more preferable than officers trying to make a sarcastic comment and Tubbo just staring at them in response.

Patrols also did not last nearly as long as cases did, making it where the sun was just about to set as Tubbo climbed the stairs to Wilbur’s beautiful high-tech mansion that had been gifted to him by the company he worked for. The imposing Cyberlife Tower reaches high into the orange sky just a couple miles away from the mansion, serving as a permanent reminder to those who lived in the house of the strength the company has.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Tubbo stands in front of a white door where he turns to ring the doorbell. A soft chime is heard from beyond the door and Tubbo hears the jingle that he has been authorized to entire, the door slides open and he steps inside with it sealing shut behind him.

The inside of the house matched the beauty of the outside with a futuristic design that was fit for its owner. The inside was expertly decorated as well, without a single piece of dust in sight, but Tubbo didn’t pay too much attention to this seeing how nothing in this house ever moved. So he strolled past the lavish architect and expensive paintings as he made his way to the lower floor where the lab ws located. When he reached the antique wooden door, Tubbo knocked and waited till he heard Wilbur’s voice to beckon him in.

Now the lab was a striking contrast compared to the rest of the house. Over the years that Wilbur has used it, he’s made this lab his own “retro style”. While there were many machines that matched the high tech aesthetic of the rest of the house, this room looks like it was an old library from a castle that was long since past. Hidden under the many arms of machines were wooden pillars and shelves that held countless expensive tools and notes, not to mention the pure amount of papers he had lying on the polished marble floor. Near the back of the room was a desk that Wilbur was currently seated at, papers were scattered wildly around the surface of the desk making it nearly impossible to see the beautiful antique wood. It was striking to see that this room was a complete mess compared to the well kept mansion it is laid within.

Wilbur was currently focused on a sheet of paper he held lazily with one hand, in front of him was a single cup of tea that was prepared by his assistant android Niki who stood at his side holding the tea pot. Just like Tubbo, the mark of Wilbur’s work was printed right under her model number, it was a small shriveled up treble clef drawn by Wilbur’s own hand years ago when he was just starting out his career. Tubbo carefully made his way across the lab, making sure not to step on anything in the process, he stood a couple feet away from the preoccupied Wilbur and waited patiently for the inventor to acknowledge him. He finally set down the paper and looked up at Tubbo with tired eyes.

“Ah, I’m glad to see that you returned in one piece,” Wilbur’s tone was rather humorous like he expected the android to reply with a laugh. He stood up and dismissed Niki with a wave of his hand, without a word she nodded and exited the lab. Wilbur stuffed his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat and strolled around the desk to meet Tubbo, there he began the same old routine that Tubbo was used to.

“Did you run into any trouble while out?”

“No sir.” Wilbur’s dark eyes studied Tubbo with care as he looked for any external signs of damage. He circled the android a few times before motions for him to move up to the platform for diagnostics.

“How was the officer you were paired with? Sam told me he was a new guy.” Tubbo was often switched around and paired with different police officers in order to get as much exposure to different situations as possible. His second comment about the police chef surprised Tubbo, this wasn’t normally a part of the script so he was caught off guard by it for a split second. Tubbo also had to work through his memory to remind himself that Wilbur was friends with the police chef, giving him the ability to do these “on the job trainings” with his creations.

“A bit annoying, he is a fan of your work and kept on asking me questions, other than that he was fine.” Wilber cackled at this, filling up the quiet room with his high pitched laugh. When

Tubbo stood up on the raised white platform, Wilbur moved up behind him and attached a cable to the back of the android’s neck. When he heard the click signifying that the cable was secured properly, Wilbur stepped back and moved behind one of the computer screens. With a push of a button, Tubbo’s vision filled with all types of different messages and recordings from that day's work. Videos that were taken from his point of view shaded in blues, written out logs from different announcements that came through the radio, all of his vitals available at any second of the day with a simple command. Tubbo’s entire system was laid out right in front of him and open for anyone to read, it was comical at how easily this priceless information could be accessed.

Through the many contents that filled his vision, Tubbo could just barely find Wilbur’s face that was illuminated by the light of the computer. His face was stern with concentration as he scanned every little detail that came across his screen. It was a look Tubbo saw him wear quite often, he can’t recall a single time where Wilbur ever let an imperfection slip through his fingers. It was rather impressive for a human being to keep such a track record.

“Everything seems to be normal,” Wilbur spoke slowly as he finished analyzing Tubbo’s database. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to rub away the pain when he finally turned away from the computer, he looked tremendously tired. Tubbo was aware of the unhealthy habits his creator has when he is hyper fixated on a project but he couldn’t pinpoint what recent task could have made him this visibly exhausted. Niki’s model was essentially complete and he knew that they had very few troubles with his programming as of late, perhaps it was his new task in researching deviants. With a rise in reported cases, it wouldn’t be surprising if Cyberlife was putting more pressure on their star inventor to come up with some sort of an explanation for these occurrences. Plus with Wilbur’s hatred of them, Tubbo was sure he disliked every second he spent researching it.

“Seems like you had a rather uneventful day, must have been a nice change.” Wilbur stepped onto the platform to remove the cable from the back of Tubbo’s neck. The images faded from his vision and he stepped off the platform fixing his ruffled coat in the process.

“Yeah I guess it was a nice change, but not a task that my systems are built for.” Wilbur seemed impressed with this answer, flashing Tubbo and satisfied grin. With each test and project they run, Tubbo can see in Wilbur’s eyes that he gets closer and closer to the perfection he longs for. It is an interesting process to watch, a human being so emotionally invested in something that is so close to being done. A project that he has thrown his entire being into, a project that their entire career rests upon. To spend so many sleep deprived hours in creating such an impressive creation must be such an exhilarating feeling. Tubbo knew that was a feeling that he would never be able to recreate no matter how advanced he became.

Just when Wilbur had shuffled back over to his desk to log today’s results, a soft knock was heard. Wilbur leaned over to check the cam that sat on the corner of his desk before he called out for them to enter. Niki opened the door and held it open as Tommy waltzed into the lab. He lived on the other side of the house and only came over to Wilbur’s side when he either had something to give his brother, needed something from him, or just simply wanted to annoy him; and unlike his brother, Tommy looked a lot more lively and awake.

The blonde detective walked over to Wilbur's desk where he sat himself on top, after having to move some papers of course. Wilbur looked a tad annoyed by this action but looked up from his work to greet his brother.

“And how was your day, dear brother of mine,” Wilbur wore a playful smile as he spoke.

“Good,” Tommy replied. “And I’m assuming you haven't left this shithole all day?”

“An organized shithole, Tommy,” Wilbur was typing quickly on his computer as he spoke, only now paying half attention to his brother. “And yes, I have stayed here all day, But not by myself of course! I have lovely Niki to keep me company,” he motioned to the pink haired android while he continued to keep his eyes on the screen. Niki simply smiled as a response. Tommy rolled his eyes at the snarky remark and began to rummage through his bag that he had plopped down beside him. He pulled out a flash drive and waved it in front of Wilbur as if it was some sort of dog treat. It took him a minute before he realized what Tommy was doing and snatched the item out of his brother’s hand. Wilbur’s mood began to brighten as he stared at the object with shining eyes.

“Is this the memory of that deceased deviant?”

“Sam gave it to me before I left work today.”

Wilbur jumped up from his seat and trotted over to one of his other monitors to start working through the information. He looked like a giddy child as he inserted the flash drive and watched as the data came rolling in, he would definitely be occupied for the next couple of hours.

Tubbo now turned his attention over to Tommy, he was perplexed by the look the young detective had plastered across his face as he watched his older brother. Not only did he know him through his work but also had the pleasure of seeing him at home, which could be described as certainly interesting. Tubbo was well aware of the strong will character Tommy has which was why this look surprised him. He looked hesitant, he most certainly had a question on his mind that he wished to ask his trusted older brother but he seemed to be thinking about it. This was out of character for Tommy, Tubbo had watched him countless times jump into confrontation without question or much thought. So why was he hesitant? What made him sit here and contemplate on what his words might call forth? Human emotions were so strange and complicated, Tubbo questioned if he’ll ever be advanced enough to understand them to their fullest extent.

“Hey, Wilbur,” Tommy shifted his possession on top of Wilbur's desk. He cupped his hands out in front of him like he was preparing himself for the answer. “We had a person today who was arrested for helping deviants. I interrogated him and this man was willing to risk it all to help them.”

“Sounds like a idiotic man to me.” Wilbur did not remove his gaze from the computer screen as he threw out this comment. Tubbo watched Tommy’s eyebrow twitch before he continued.

“But he whole heartily believed that these deviants are worthy of rights. He looked me dead in the face and said that they are alive. These deviants had saved him and he put his life and freedom on the line to help them. The passion that flared up in his eyes was genuinely frightening and I was caught off guard by it.”

Wilbur had stopped working and now stared down Tommy. “What are you getting at?”

“Well,” Tommy’s face was a mix of emotions as he picked out his next words. “I’m questioning the idea of deviants. This man believed in every word he said to me with his entire being, he begged us with tears in his eyes to not harm the deviants he was protecting. And I’m just wondering if the idea of them being some kind of new species isn't as crazy as it sounds.”

The room was filled with a painful silence as Wilbur and Tommy stared each other down. Wilbur took a deep breath and Tommy was quick to fill the silence before his brother retaliated.

“I just thought since you do so much research on them you’d have some sort of theory or something about them being alive- or a species of some sort. I know how long you stay up sometimes just working on that research-”

“Tommy,” Wilbur’s words were cold as ice and although Tommy strengthened himself to meet his brother’s stance, one could easily see how tense he was. “You know just as well as I do that these things that are created in labs are not some kind of new fucking species.” As he spoke his poisonous words, Wilbur walked right up to Tommy to meet him, standing a good head taller than him making him appear even more threatening.

“I have spent years creating these machines to help this fucked up world, and creating life was not a part of that agenda. By saying that these things made up of batteries and plastic are living is an insult to my life’s work, Tommy. This isn't biology or ecology, this is fucking world class engineering. So I will suggest that you get your head out of your ass and stop believing those random criminals that these machines are alive.”

Silence once again followed Wilbur’s poison filled words. The 2 brothers merely looked at each other for what seemed like ages, neither of them backing down. Wilbur finally took a deep breath and walked back over to his computer, his footsteps sounded extra heavy in the tense lab.

“If you don’t need anything else, you can stop annoying me and leave.” Wilbur didn’t look up at Tommy after that, his eyes stayed glued to the screen the entire time Tommy showed himself out followed by Niki who was off to prepare them dinner. Thus making Tubbo and Wilbur the only 2 remaining in the lab.

For the longest time there was only silence in the lab, and this was fairly normal. Wilbur often worked in silence while Tubbo simply stood in the lab waiting for instructions. Tubbo thought that he might enjoy just looking up at his prized android every now and again to keep him going, or perhaps he enjoyed the artificial company in this isolating lab. Either way, Tubbo would remain perfectly still until he was finally told to do something, this could sometimes be only a few minutes or a few hours; it depended on the kind of day Wilbur was having. Today was only about a 15 minutes wait before Wilbur slumped back into his chair with a heavy sigh. He wheeled around the screen so that he could get a good look at his creation and asked a question that Tubbo was not expecting.

“Tubbo,” he said, sounding immensely groggy, “why do you think androids are becoming deviant?”

This was certainly the money making question that every person in Detroit had on their mind. Although this was a question that Tubbo found strange to ask an android, it sounds much like a question that he should be asking anyone else. Tubbo was programmed to answer a specific way, and Wilbur knew that, perhaps he was purely testing him or just wanted to hear a right answer to sooth his overworked brain. Either way, Tubbo was going to answer the way his processors were telling him to.

“Since androids are designed to mimic human emotions to better blend into society, there is the belief that a glitch occurs where some ai think they are actually feeling emotions rather than just mimicking it, and it seems that this comes from the androids experiencing some kind of emotional shock that their programming processes it the wrong way.”

Wilbur smiles, “Thank you Tubbo, you are dismissed.”

Chapter Text

The innocence of a child is such a strange and fascinating thing. With Ranboo’s vast database of knowledge, he was well aware of how the media portrayed small children as either helpless creatures that needed guidance in almost everyday tasks or some unrealistic self significant child who was practically an adult. Ranboo was rather certain that he knew what to expect from a child, but after meeting Micheal this mindset was thrown wildly off course.

First off, Micheal was a very stubborn child (a characteristic Ranboo was prepared for but still found it amusing how something so small could have such an unbending personality). Ranboo had done his best to steer the child away from constantly coming back to see his new friend in their “secret hideout”, however these attempts soon died off as it was obvious that Micheal was not going anywhere. Rain or shine, Ranboo couldn’t help but look forward to seeing that pink haired boy force his way through the opening in the tattered wall with a smile plastered across his dirty face. He’d ask Ranboo to play tag with him or tell him some cool story or on rare occasions he’d bring chalk with him and insist on drawing on the wood floor. He’d always tease Micheal by acting reluctant to allow him to doodle on the “precious antique hardwood floor” but this was his favorite activity to play with the boy. Those silly little drawings of rockets, flowers, and lions brought so much color into Ranboo’s sheltered life. Micheal would laugh as Ranboo would make some poorly drawn blue chicken and try to defend it calling it “creative liberty”. He’d playful elbow the child closer to the drawing, challenging him to better and watch as Micheal’s eyes would light up at the thought of a challenge and he’d eagerly get to work on his masterpiece.

This was another thing that Ranboo was thrown off by with Micheal, he was an incredibly cheery child. All of his background knowledge pointed to children that were victims of abuse and toxic households tended to be reserved and cautious when it came to interacting with people, especially adults, but Micheal wasn't like this at all. He’d often come over with scratches and fresh violet bruises caked across his face, but he’d always greet Ranboo with a big toothy grin asking what game they are going to play today. It puzzled the android, he just couldn’t wrap his high tech head around it. This frightened little boy was so quick to trust a stranger that lived in a falling down building across the street, it was honestly laughable. He didn’t know if Micheal chose to ignore those negative feelings or if this tragic situation of his truly went straight over his head. Ranboo did know that Micheal treated this house as a safe space, he trusted Ranboo enough to be his true colorful self. This sparked a feeling deep inside of the android that he couldn’t exactly pinpoint, all he knew was that he cared for this child deeply and would do what he could to protect him.

And these forgein feelings were about to be put to the test.

Ranboo had been keeping track of the days that Micheal had visited him. As of right now, it was 35 days and today would mark the 36th. Just like everyday, Ranboo sat and waited patiently on the rotten steps, twiddling his thumbs round and round as he kept his mismatched eyes focused on that single opening. Sometimes he’d get up to pace around the room, stopping every once and a while to take in those drawings that he had grown so fond of.

To many, these chalk drawings would seem meaningless, perhaps even a nuisance to others from the amount of space they take up and how messy they are. But Ranboo loved every single one of them, they each had their own separate memory tied to them. Such as this one drawing tucked away in the far corner of the house, it was an overly spiky magenta hedgehog that Micheal had drawn after finishing a book on the animal (in which he took the time to inform Ranboo of every single fact about the little creature). Or the massive tree that its branches reached up onto the walls that were shaded in vibrate orange and reds that gave the feeling of fall. Ranboo remembered helping Michael with this big project, the child normally insisted on drawing everything on his own but just this once he had invited his android friend to help him. To think at one point only dull colors filled Ranboo’s mind from the deterring neighborhood he called “home”, it seems like such a distant memory now as he was transfixed on the wide array of colors that filled the space around him.

But that phrase seemed to linger in Ranboo’s mind: “android friend”, he couldn’t help but constantly refer to himself as such. Each time those words passed through his mind, Ranboo shuddered. He was certain that Micheal believed that he was human, why wouldn’t he? Without that silly LED, Ranboo looked like a normal everyday person that you would pass on the street (apart from that pesky red eye error but one could only see it up close so he wasn’t even worried about that giving him away). But what would Micheal think if he found out Ranboo was an android? A deviant at that? With all of the negative media coverage on deviants as of late, Ranboo wouldn’t be surprised if an impressionable child like Micheal has some fuming hatred against rogue androids. He had considered bringing up the topic a few times but how are you even supposed to bring up something like that? “Hey! 8-year-old child whose only concern should be getting his homework done and beating that difficult level on that video game; what is your opinion on androids? Specifically with deviants who are, according to the media, blood thirsty killers?” There is just no practical way to even mention the topic, therefore Ranboo chooses to simply ignore it. Whether or not this has a negative effect on their relationship in the future, Ranboo does try to push away that thought. He does his best, hard as it may be, to focus on what is happening now, not on what could happen in the distant future.

Speaking of being in the present, Ranboo noticed that the sky began to show a lovely shade of vermillion. This struck the android as odd, Micheal normally did not wait this late for his visit.

Rising from his spot from the stairs, Ranboo made his way over to the boarded up window and gazed through at the house across the street. Only one of the front lights had switched on, there was the piled up newspapers sitting idly by the front door, the blue light from the living room tv shining through the curtain in the front window. Everything seemed to be as lifeless as ever, but why did this not sit well with Ranboo?

He strolled up to the top floor to gaze out of the window from up there, of course it looked the exact same. He paced around the room a few times before returning back to check, everything still looked to be in order. Ranboo did this countless times, back and forth up and down those stairs, but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn't until the moon had risen in the sky that there was a change in that house, and it was a change that Ranboo had feared the most.

The front door of the house flung open and slammed against the wall with a hard thud that could most definitely be heard down the block. Ranboo was on the top floor of the house peering down at the situation that was beginning to unfold, he could feel his anxiety rising with each passing second. He watched as Micheal was flung out of the door onto the front lawn with such force he could feel his own breath knocked out of him as he watched the child slam into the hard ground. A figure then appeared in the doorframe, standing hidden by the shadows that gave him the presence of some monster from a scary children's story. As Micheal struggled to his feet, the figure stepped out of the shadows and his father moved closer to his frightened child with an angry red face that even Ranboo could see from a distance.

Panic rose fast in the android, he dashed down stairs and pressed himself against the boarded up window in hope that he could see better. But what good would that do? Give him a better view of watching his friend be mauled by the man that was supposed to love him? Every single emotion possible seemed to be pulsing through Ranboo like a wildfire. In fact, fire itself was very apparent in his mind. These powerful emotions were familiar to the android. Dread, wrath, worry, compassion, god it was clouding up Ranboo’s mind amongst a wall fire. Why was this fire so familiar? Why now of all places? Why was he having vivid flashbacks of scorching fire? Everything felt so cluttered he had a difficult time pinpointing any sort of emotion or even coherent thought, but he was aware of one single thing: that he felt empathy for Micheal and he wished to help him.

Micheal’s father hovered over his young son, his eyes gleaming with drunken rage. He raised his bulky fist and brought it down with a heavy force expecting to strike the child clean across the face, but this did not happen. Instead his hand was blocked by none other than Ranboo himself who stared up at the man with a wide terrified look.

Ranboo’s body had moved before he even completely processed what was happening. He’d ripped off the wooden boards and forced his way out of that rotten building he had stayed in for months, he’d dashed across the road in a frenzy and was nearly hit by a car in the process. And now he stood face to face with Micheal’s father, who was a lot more intimidating up close, especially with the fury that burned in his eyes. Greying tangled pink hair with an unmaintained beard, stains scattered across his white shirt and gold rings shoved onto his fat fingers. He was truly a sight to behold, but unfortunately Ranboo did have much time to take him in before he ripped his fist from the android’s grasp and shoved him back.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” His words were full of poison and his voice was raspy from alcohol.

Ranboo did not answer, he straightened his back and motioned for Micheal to come behind him, the child did so without hesitation. Ranboo’s senses had come back to him and he knew what he was to do: he was going to do whatever it took to save Micheal.

With a new found purpose, a striking new confidence bloomed inside of Ranboo. He held up his arms as the drunk man began to swing at him wildly, he dodged left and right from the gleaming gold rings that were after his blood. Ranboo attempted to distract the man from Micheal, luring him away by keeping his focus on this random lanky stranger that had shown up in his yard. This only worked for so long before the man shifted his gaze back over to Micheal who was attempting to hide beyond the broken white fence. Without much thought, Ranboo forced his way in between the 2 right when the man was raising his decorated fist. Not having enough time to react, Ranboo was struck square in the jaw and he stumbled backwards before landing on the grass. He clutched his check and could feel the blue thirium that was leaking down his face, it was then the panic sunk in.

“An android?” Ranboo could hear the disbelief in the man’s voice, but he didn’t dare to look at him. He kept his eyes glued onto Micheal, scanning his face to see his reaction. That was all that he cared about in this moment, what the hell would Micheal think of him now. Would he scream in terror and run away? Perhaps begin to cry? Or maybe even the worst thing, gaze at Ranboo with eyes full of hatred for he was a disgusting deviant. God he couldn’t bear to think of something as horrible as that. His single friend in life staring at him like he was a monster. His friend that had filled his secluded life with so much color, that filled him with so much compassion that he was able to leave the comfort of his rotten building for him, to save him.

But what Micheal did caught Ranboo completely off guard.

“Ranboo!” Micheal’s voice was hoarse from where he had been crying. He watched as the child dashed over to him with concern filling his pretty blue eyes. Micheal threw himself onto Ranboo and clutched his check delicately with his hand. “Are you alright?” he said, tears already whelming up in his eyes.

Ranboo felt so unbelievably happy. He should have known better than to doubt Micheal, he knew that this child cared for him just as much as he cared for Micheal. This child gave him a purpose and made him feel whole. Forgetting about everything else that was going on around them, Ranboo tenderly rested his hand on Micheal’s cheek, inspecting the bright violet bruise around his eye. “I’ll be okay,” he said, smiling at Michael. He wished this warm moment could last a lifetime.

But of course this enduring trance was soon cut short as the man lashed out again at the vulnerable pair. Out of instinct, Ranboo pushed Micheal out of the way and caught the man’s boot on his shoulder. He heard a crunch as he was forced onto the ground, pinned where he was. Ranboo squirmed around on the ground for what seemed like ages before his hand latched onto the man’s pants and he was able to force him off, knocking the unsteady man to the ground in the process. He popped up and readied himself as he stared down the man.

The man was beginning to slow down as his tiredness (and drunkenness) was beginning to catch up with him. With each punch he became even more sloppy, the man looked like a sad fat pig with the sweat that glazed his face, he was starting to get desperate. Ranboo managed to land a punch that had enough force to cause the man to spit out a bloody tooth. This was most definitely the last straw.

Storming towards Ranboo, he grabbed onto the android’s shoulders and slung him around, knocking him to the ground. Right as Ranboo was about to get up, the man landed on top of him pinning him to the grass. He then proceeded to begin punching Ranboo over and over again square in his face. He didn’t even seem like a human at this moment, just a bloodthirsty animal. First thirium covered the android’s face and the man’s knuckles, then scarlet blood began to mix in as the man was tearing apart his hands by repeatedly striking the android. Bits of plastic flying through the air as Ranboo’s vision was filled with warning singles of the injuries he was receiving. This man was in a blind rage and was only focused on destroying this plastic thing beneath him.

Ranboo too was beginning to get desperate in this situation. He thought he was beginning to gain the upper hand on the man but now he was at his mercy in the dried up grass. Ranboo flailed around as he attempted anything to get the man off of him. Pulling his hair, punching him back, kicking his legs. It wasn't until Ranboo managed to get his feet under him did an idea flash through his mind, and quite possibly the only way he could get out of this deadly situation. Using every single bit of his strength, Ranboo kicked at the man’s stomach and managed to flip him over his head. It was then that he heard the terrifying noise.

Scrambling to his feet, Ranboo was shocked at the scene he saw before him. The man lay sprawled out on the ground, with a white stake from the fence piercing through his chest pulsing out an enormous amount of blood. Covered in thirium, sweat, and his own blood, the man was still moving ever so slightly. His eyes were bloodshot and pierced through Ranboo with a fiery rage. Even in his last moments, he felt nothing but hate as the life faded from his eyes and he stopped moving for good. Ranboo was sure if he was able to, he would have thrown up his insides.

He had done this. Ranboo had murdered this man. He was responsible for the white stake that had pierced his heart and had taken his life. Kind natured Ranboo who wanted nothing more than to make people smile. How could he look at himself now? Now that he had committed this horrendous crime? Not only that but he was sure to be deactivated because of this, if being a deviant wasn't already warrant enough for that through human eyes. This was a disgusting thing that Ranboo never wanted to think about ever again, but he couldn’t look away from the scene, and what he did. The scarlet blood pouring out onto the grass, the lifeless body just laying there, the glossed over look in the man’s eyes. God it was so horrible, how could anyone do anything like this and continue on?

“Ranboo?”

Micheal. That was right. This was to save Micheal. That man would have surely done the same to this innocent child if he hadn't stepped in. Even if this image was now burned into his brain, Ranboo knew he had a new mission in life: to protect Micheal.

Ranboo pulled Micheal into a hug and just stood there frozen for what felt like an eternity. He took his time to settle his thoughts, focusing on the rapid heart beat of the child he clung onto. This sweet innocent child. He felt his own anxiety begin to flat line as he held Micheal in his arms. He felt whole, like an actual human being. This very thought is what grounded the android.

Ranboo pulled away and held out his hand, Micheal took it without hesitation and they ran towards the city of Detroit.