Chapter Text
A flood of reminisce swells like the ocean’s tide as dim lights cut through a heavy black veil.
There was always an air of silence that befell the Elliot manor during the late hours of the evening; an eerie lull being only disturbed by the off-kilter ticking of an old grandfather clock in the hallway. The scent of musty book pages and old varnish are rife in the air, permeating from the towering shelves housing old hardcovers, bound by linen threads and exotic leathers.
Off the festoons and intricate balusters that made up the library, the last notes of Beethoven’s “Für Elise” on an old spinet piano echo hauntingly in the atmosphere.
She looks beautiful when she plays, her fingers dancing deliberately across the keys, eyes closed, poised in a posture instilled in her since she was a small child. Of course, the music is delightful; it always is, but J always found herself more mesmerized by the musician she sat alongside than the instrument, idly kicking her feet as she listens to the tune.
A-minor rings out in an authentic cadence, signifying the end of the classic song in the same way it started.
“You’ve gotten really good at this, boss,” J states, gaze transfixed on her mistress’ profile. Her chest jumps as Tessa’s attention turns to her, quickly glancing away. The girl laughs. “C’mon, J. You’re off the clock. y’know you can cut it with the formalities.” Embarrassed, J clears her throat. “Yes, b—“ She looks to her companion, a sheepish expression blooming as she catches herself. “I-I mean, sorry… Tessa.”
The human nudges her playfully on the side of her shoulder, grinning. “No worries! You keen on takin’ a squiz at it?”
J furrows her brows, pausing for a beat as she looks down at the keys beneath her. Her database is capable of flipping through thousands of classical songbooks and sheet music in a nanosecond, but unfortunately, being an AI with sentience and autonomy has its drawbacks–like getting caught off guard by a cute girl and suddenly being filled with the overwhelming panic of trying to impress her.
“…what do you want to hear?” J asks quietly, unable to look up.
Her audio processors pick up a quiet, tinkly giggle, reminiscent of wind chimes.
“What do you want to play?” Tessa retorts cheekily.
There’s an awkward pause. J’s core whirrs loudly as she continues to rack her brain for an idea. She must have looked unfathomably silly because when she draws her gaze back up to Tessa, a smile is tugging at the corners of her lips. J blinks. Why was she staring at her lips? That’s a stupid question, with an even stupider answer that she wasn’t going to think too deeply about right now.
Tessa exhales through her nose, shaking her head. “Yer’ thinkin’ about it too hard.” There’s a pause as Tessa seems to be thinking about it herself.
“...How’s your progress with Tchaikovsky?”
The drone blinks. ‘Tchaikovsky… Tchaikovsky…’
Okay, well, that helped narrow it down… but what to play..? J turns her attention back to the piano, idly pressing a key a few times for some inspiration. Slowly, a song bubbles into her thoughts; a good song. A song that J had spent countless hours fine-tuning to near perfection. An incredibly, blatantly obvious love song, certainly not a song that J wanted to play for her. It's only now that she realizes just how badly she’s trembling when she hears the sound of her segmented fingers clicking against the ivory, and she inwardly slaps herself to break out of her thoughts, taking a deep breath.
Cool it, you reprobate.
The beginnings of “‘Pas de Deux” start to flow through the air, the melody a harmonious blend of notes that swirl and dance together in a beautiful melancholy. “Ah. this one’s nice.” Tessa sighs, relaxing as she closes her eyes and drinks in the sound. J lets out the breath she’s been holding, mentally wiping a sweat drop from her brow. Safe.
She tries to ignore the human girl at her side for the sake of not being distracted, but in her peripherals, she can see Tessa watching her. J smiles to herself sheepishly, feeling a blush creep up onto her visor as her fingers float across the keys effortlessly. G, A, B, A-sharp, A4, A5, A4 flat….
Her breath suddenly hitches as she hears another pair of hands join her on the other side of the piano, turning the ballad into a duet as the melody slowly drifts into the crescendo. Tessa sways as her fingers move expertly in time with J’s as if they’d done this a thousand times before.
J tilts her head back, eyes fluttering shut as her imagination whisks her away to a softly lit stage. She takes the place of the cavalier, wearing an all-white soldier’s jacket and black leggings, spinning and twirling her sugarplum fairy across the stage in an ethereal dance, feet ghosting across the floor with the rhythm slowly fading into the background as Tessa becomes the main focal point of her universe.
A sudden warmth rests against her side, and J jolts, snapping her out of her fantasy almost immediately. In her distraction, she hadn’t noticed Tessa inching closer, eventually pressing their shoulders together as they continued their playing. A soft, gentle expression graces the human’s features, and for a moment, J’s completely caught off guard.
She nearly fumbles with a note, barely catching herself before recovering where she left off. The smile that’s crept onto J’s face is small, but it's a genuine one; and as the tempo picks up, her playing becomes more confident, the music swirling around them like a living, breathing entity. J’s core swells with a liveliness she’d never experienced before; finding herself connected to Tessa in a way that she never has with anyone else. She feels so warm, entirely lost in the beauty of the moment.
A head lays to rest on the side of her shoulder, auburn locks spilling over her frame as the top of Tessa’s head nestles in the crook of her neck, breath hot on the side of the little worker’s cheek. “Bloody hell.” She hears Tessa sigh out. “You’re amazing, J.”
J feels like she’s just about ready to burst into flames.
Her systems hum with a ferocity that only grows as Tessa's words wash over her, focus drifting down to the girl’s hair. She's tempted to reach out and touch the soft strands brushing across her clavicle; but she resists, her fingers remaining poised over the keys as she continues to play.
"T-thank you, Tessa," she manages to stammer out, her voice barely above a whisper.
Robo-God, She could sit like this with her forever. It just felt so… right.
___
It’s a truly unfortunate fact that no matter how beautiful a song might be, it always has to come to an end.
The clock reads 3:35 am when J suddenly snaps awake, hanging by her tail from the ceiling support beams of her room. Her lapse in concentration causes her grip on the scaffolding to falter, and without her full strength to support her weight, she plummets to the ground gracelessly, clanging against the cold, metal floor. She groans, wincing at the sudden shock.
<PAIN RECEPTION=TRUE. YOU FELL, IDIOT>
Slowly, J rolls onto her back, little creaks of protest emanating from her stiff servos as she readjusts her position. She sits there for a beat, staring up at the ceiling.
22 days, 17 hours, 53 minutes and 38 seconds.
The soft image of Tessa’s smile in the back of her mind fades, the girl’s vibrant expression twisting into something straight out of a horror movie; a grotesque imitation of life; nothing but decaying flesh pulled taut over metal, stretched thin against Cyn’s perpetually grinning faceplate.
<Memory Failed to Terminate: Access Denied.>
“Mmh.” She groans, wiping a hand across her visor.
A soft knock at the door sends J nearly jumping out of her chassis, and a momentary wave of panic washes through her chest- of course, she had to go and wake someone up.
J sighs irritably, scowling as her gaze remains fixed on the ceiling. No sir, not leaving this floor. Especially if it’s that nuisance, N. Robo-god, she hates that guy.
“J..?”
Of course, it’s V. That girl never sleeps, and when she does, it isn’t deep. Back when they worked together, she’d always wondered why, but now… well, supposing after everything she’s learned, she’s well within her right. J lets out an exasperated exhale. Ugh. Might as well get this over with.
Chest heaving with a low effort, she slowly stumbles to her feet. It shouldn’t be too hard to red-herring her way out of an explanation as to why she’s crashing around in her room in the middle of the night, right..?
Her eyes narrow, and with a mix of annoyance and resignation, she presses the button on the wall of her room.
The door opens a crack in response.
"V," She says, her tone flat and hushed. "What do you want?"
J doesn't even bother to hide the irritation in her voice.
V's glowing gaze cuts through the dark as she regards J through the doorway, detached as ever. "You're making a racket. I could hear you from down the hall." She pauses, her expression unyielding. "You okay?" The question is perfunctory.
Flashing with a hint of defiance, J frowns. "I'm fine," she snaps back curtly. The unexpected appearance had exposed a vulnerability J wasn’t exactly looking to delve into at 4 am on a Thursday, or at all. Or ever. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, stance tense as her eyes lock onto V's face. "What's it to you, anyway?"
The other drone remains impassive, voice falling gratingly flat. "It's nothing to me. I just don't want to have to be the one to deal with noise complaints tomorrow.” She pauses, her gaze flicking to the side as her attention is momentarily drawn to something else. "You're not exactly known for your subtlety, you know.”
J squints. "Subtlety?" she repeats vindictively, anger bubbling up in her core. "You're one to talk, V. You're about as subtle as a sledgehammer." She takes a step forward, her movements tense. Externally, her stoic facade holds, but it's achingly, pathetically fragile. "And as for noise complaints, maybe if you spent more time sleeping and less time lurking around at all hours of the night, you wouldn't have to worry about it.".
The outburst seems to unsettle V, the corners of her mouth twitching with malaise. With a fluid movement, she takes a step back in response, disengaging any combative body language. her eye contact continues, unbreaking, unphased. “You haven’t left your room in 3 days and this is the first thing I’ve heard from you since.” “Have you eaten at all?”
V's words hit J like a gutpunch, and she feels her vitriol dissipate, replaced by a sense of shame and guilt. Still, her composure remains strong, despite the stinging, twisting sensation in her chest. She can’t stop thinking about that dream.
“I’ve managed for longer,” J says, quieter, but still firm. “But that's none of your business. Now, if you’d be so kind, I’d like to try and get back to sleep. I have a briefing with the maintenance crew tomorrow.” She attempts to adopt as firm a tone of finality as she can muster, crossing her fingers that V would take the hint to buzz off so she can sulk in peace.
Much to J’s…oddly placed chagrin, V’s distance from the conversation makes itself blatantly evident very quickly— at least from what J can assume surface level. "Fine," she drones, her voice devoid of emotion. "But if you need a break, I'm sure the maintenance crew can handle things without you for one day."
Short, silver hair bobs gracefully as her former turns to leave, but before J can shut the door again, V pauses, her head tilting just slightly to let her gaze flick back over her shoulder. "And J?" Her voice is softer now, a hint of concern creeping into her tone. "If you ever need to talk...I'm here." Quietly, V swivels back around, her form nearly dissipating into the darkness as she stalks down the hallway, effectively leaving J alone with her thoughts again.
Her eyes fix on the spot where the other drone disappeared from view, and for a moment, she's frozen, her systems humming softly. The offer of support, a listening ear, is…unprecedented, and it catches her entirely off guard.
A pang of gratitude is quickly suppressed by her usual defenses. She can't afford to show weakness, not even to V.
J’s chest heaves with the effort of a low, shaky exhale, and with stiff, jerky movements, she pivots back to her room.
Though she doesn’t look back, the offer lingers in her mind, a tantalizing prospect that she can't quite shake.
Instead of expending unnecessary energy flying back up to her roost, J opts to lay back down in the spot she fell onto the floor, clasping her hands against her chest as she stares at the empty ceiling of her quarters. Aimlessly, she rifles through old memory files on her internal memory drive.
<D:/SystemCore/SystemOS.1001/important_files/videos/Tessa/10_5_3049.mp4
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Playback loaded successfully.>
It’s early evening, like usual. J always remembered how busy they both were during the day, so it usually was only later in the afternoons and evenings that they could reconvene somewhere to hang out.
Thunder cracks outside, illuminating the eerie green sky outside through an arched window. They sit on the floor together beside her bed, tiny porcelain fingers fiddling with the beginnings of a dutch braid. In the corner of her screen display, a small red dot blinks.
“I hope you don’t mind me recording this, boss,” J says to the back of Tessa’s head. “I assure you this is strictly for my memory files so I can learn better.”
“Crikey, J, you don't have to ask.” J can’t see Tessa’s face, but she can tell she’s smiling. “Do what you gotta do, mate, I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
As the playback rolls, J's hands, still clasped to her chest, feel a nostalgic longing as she reminisces on the fuzzy memory of how soft Tessa’s hair was. She had always wanted to know what it felt like to run her fingers through it more intimately, brushing them across her scalp and down the length of the strands. The drone feels a lump form in her throat, a bittersweet feeling crawling into her chest like a creeping ivy. For a fleeting moment, she's transported back to that moment, to the feeling of being close to Tessa. A time where she was needed, loved.
What would the real Tessa think of her now? Would she still recognize her after what Cyn had made her? Would she be disgusted by the actions she’d carried out? Surely she’d understand…she always did…But would she forgive her?
“Oh,” says J in the video, pulling her hands away as she realizes she’d missed a plait further on up. “What’s wrong?” Tessa asks, turning her head with an inquisitive brow raised. J looks crestfallen. “Sorry, boss, my technique is…frustratingly inadequate.” She mumbles, defeatedly dropping the tress against the human’s back. It looks…awkward. Like the breakpoint of a coat when you skip a button on the way down.
Tessa shakes her head, grinning as she spins herself around on her knees to face her. She looks a little goofy sporting J’s botch job. “J, ya’ galah. I’m not asking ya ta be perfect.”
She chuckles, a reassuring hand lowering onto J’s thigh. She jolts, a shudder running down her spine. It’s an innocent gesture, but one that inspires some…embarrassing thoughts.
“‘Yer still learnin’ mate. I’m keen to teach you.” Oh, that smile . “Here.” She motions, prompting J to turn around. “Lemme have a go at’cha.”
Tessa leaves the frame. As the video cuts off, J's hands mindlessly follow the motions she'd learned, her fingers braiding her hair with a precision she'd honed over the years. She wishes she'd recorded more. J’s chest feels like lead. Her gaze remains fixed on the ceiling for what feels like an eternity before she closes her eyes, still thumbing through synthetic thatches. It’s not the same.
She takes a deep breath and loads the next video, laser focused on the screen as she drowns herself in fleeting memories once again.
<D:/SystemCore/SystemOS.1001/important_files/videos/Tessa/11_14_3049.mp4
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<Playback loaded successfully.>