bottledpeaches - Tumblr blog

bottledpeaches · 9 days ago

Text

the missing ten bytes

SYNOPSIS: even with the newfound ability of speech, he finds he's still unable to tell you how he really feels

CHARACTERS: metal sonic, tails, sonic, eggman, amy

TAGS: set after idw battle for angel island arc, jealous metal in denial, metal has a slight existential crisis, gn reader, mild profanity, fluff, 6.9k+ wc

TAGLIST: @waayix as requested <3, @affinitytales

special thanks to @nyehpperino and @angelitenails for beta reading this! ily <3

also confession time... affi I'm ur 💜 anon

NOTES: lots of computer terminology but I am not a programmer, its been over a month since I last wrote so this may be rusty pls bear with me </3, sonfic nation pls accept my humble first offering

dividers are from @cafekitsune

“Tails… What’s that you’re holding?”

Covered in machine oil and dust as per usual, the boy genius looks over and waves at you. When he notices you staring, he holds up the device in his free hand. It’s small, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand, and resembles an earpiece.

“Oh, this? It’s my newest invention!” he declares proudly. “It’s a real-time translator that can convert binary code into speech! Pretty cool, huh?”

Your gaze drifts to the suspiciously Sonic-shaped robot dragging on the ground behind him, beaten and battered with several dents in his frame. Most likely the work of the real Sonic. His red LED eyes are off and sparks fly off the exposed wiring in his limbs. If Tails notices this severe safety hazard he’s haphazardly handling, he doesn’t say anything. Or most likely, he doesn’t notice, too caught up in whatever genius idea his mind is brewing up.

“... Is that Metal?”

He flinches, like he forgot he was actually dragging the damn thing around.

“Er… no?”

“Tails.”

He reluctantly sighs at your tone and his whole body deflates.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles as he turns toward his workshop. “But I swear, this is in the name of… science. Yeah, science!”

The skeptical look you send his way makes him look away again and scratch the back of his neck shamefully.

“How do I explain this…? You know how Amy was upgrading her hammer the other day?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, Metal spotted Sonic earlier today and you know how the story goes. They got into a fight and Amy decided it would be a perfect time to test her hammer out.”

He mimics her actions as he swings an invisible hammer around. In doing so, Metal slips from his grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud. He rolls to a stop and you can see, on the back of his head, a giant hammer-shaped dent that aligns with the size and shape of Amy’s.

“... Yeah. The story writes itself from there on,” sighs Tails as he follows your gaze. You squat down next to the unconscious robot and place a hand on top of his head. Still hot to the touch and you retract your hand quickly, hissing at the slight burn. His internal systems must’ve been working overtime and overheated as a result. You’d wager his circuitry is probably fried beyond repair now.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re dragging what’s essentially glorified scrap metal back to your place though,” you say as you sling one of Metal’s arms (that’s barely held together by a cable) over your shoulder as Tails takes the other. In response, he pulls out the ear piece you noticed earlier and beams brightly.

“I invented this the other day but haven’t been able to test it yet. But look! Here we are with the perfect candidate!”

“Tails, I do hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into. This is like stepping right into the lion’s den- no, more like inviting the lion straight into our home! And if something goes wrong, we’re all dead meat!”

“Relax! Even if he does go berserk, I’m sure Sonic would love to take another swing at him.”

The garage door to Tails’ workshop opens automatically as you approach. A loud grunt escapes you as Metal slides off you and onto a table. The overhead light flickers on and fills the space with bright, fluorescent light as Tails restrains the robot with some heavy duty chains. Not like it’ll do much if he does wake up…

“Besides, we don’t even know if he has a language module or not. If he doesn’t, then wouldn’t that mean all your efforts get wasted?”

“No such thing as wasted effort in my eyes!” he replies as he grabs his welding and power tools, aviation goggles discarded on the floor in favor of a welding helmet. “And we’ve heard him speak before.”

“Tails, that was when he was in his Neo Metal form. That was caused by his AI chip becoming self-aware.”

“But the possibility exists,” he argues. “It’s there, just buried beneath Dr. Eggman’s programming. And that’s why I have you with me!”

“M-me?” you splutter out. “Wait, I never said I was-”

“- The resident programmer amongst us!” he interrupts. “I’m just the engineer, remember? If anyone stands a chance of overwriting his code, it’s you. Besides, aren’t you at least a tiny bit interested in being the first to sabotage Dr. Eggman’s failsafe encryption system?”

Your eye twitches. You’d be lying if he said he didn’t speak the truth…

Tails flips the visor on his helmet down and motions you to back up. Sparks fly and the room is filled with the ear-rattling sound of the grinding wheel undoing the weld that houses his inner workings. When Tails flips the visor up and motions you forward, your eyes widen and practically sparkle at the motherboard before you. Located in his head that Tails has sawed the top off just now is a behemoth of densely-packed wiring and components. You spot several fans, the two CPU sockets with chips that bear Dr. Eggman’s face on them, and several memory slots. Much of the wiring is fried from overheating, however, and the distinct smell of something burning wafts from the printed circuit board. You cover your nose with your hand and grimace at the smell, yet you take a seat beside the robot and get to work anyway.

The first order of business is to replace all the parts beyond any hope of repair. Tails directs you to where he keeps his collection of computer parts and soon, you return with an armful of components you dug out of a bin. With his help, the wiring is replaced and reworked. His damaged limbs are repaired and reattached to his body. Thankfully, none of his processors or memory cards were damaged, as you’re able to hook him up to a computer and copy all his software and saved information. The computer screen lights up and a download progress bar appears. It soon completes and you see that all of Metal’s saved data has been successfully transferred onto the computer.

While Tails is busy tinkering with the engineering marvel splayed out on the table, you’re busy attempting to get past Dr. Eggman’s notoriously difficult code encryption. As much as you hate the man, you have to begrudgingly admit he does deserve the title of “genius”. No matter what you do, you just can’t get past the security system- there are no openings and no backdoor either. Maybe you’ll just have to brute force it?

… You slam your fist against the table after what feels like the hundredth failed attempt. The high-pitched whirring sound of Tails’ power drill that’s faded into background noise abruptly stops as he stares at you concernedly. You brush off his concern and in a last-ditch attempt, you simply force your way past the protections in place without any regard for what could happen. You’re prepared for failure yet again, but to your surprise, you’re greeted with a welcome screen. Looks like you’re in now. Somehow.

There’s no doubt that Dr. Eggman hasn’t realized his most prized creation has been gone for a suspiciously long time now. If he hasn’t, then the defenses set up around Metal’s code that surely triggered when you brute forced your way into the system just now will alert him.

Your eyes scan for any software that could indicate the presence of a language model. But to your surprise, there’s none. If there’s no language model, how can he understand Dr. Eggman’s orders and react in real-time to Sonic’s taunts in the middle of heated fights?

You bite your lip as you scroll through the lines of code making up his software. If it had existed, it was most likely stripped after the events of Angel Island for being considered too “rebellious”. Does this mean there’s a way for you to re-implement it then?

Your fingers fly across the keys rapidly. Whether Dr. Eggman built Metal’s language model framework up from the ground or not is up for debate, but you aren’t capable of such feats yet. Developing one from scratch would also take too much time and you aren’t sure when the killer robot next to you will awaken either. Instead, you settle for downloading an established model onto a flash drive and extensively tweaking its source code to be more suitable for Metal. That alone takes you long enough as Tails shoots you a nervous glance. He readies his welding tools and readjusts his helmet.

“(Name), I don’t know how much longer Metal is going to stay unconscious… His AI chip has most likely been busy with rebooting him back up. Plus who knows what other defenses he has set up in place…”

Dammit. With little time left, you encrypt the software as best as you can to avoid Dr. Eggman undoing all your hard work before sticking it into the slot on Metal’s back. The indicator light turning green at the base tells you it’s been successfully compiled and installed. It’s a half-baked product at best and it’ll be nowhere near the level of refinement his original programming was at, but it’s good enough.

“Ready,” you say to Tails. “Power him back on.”

Tails flashes a thumbs-up. A quick weld job later and he flicks a switch on. The robot’s entire body jerks and shudders from the sudden output of watts now flowing through his circuitry. His red pupils flicker back on and his head snaps in your direction, glaring at you. With a whirr of well-oiled gears, he tugs at the restraints holding him until they snap. He leaps off the table and swipes at you, steel fingers slicing cleanly through the air. You dodge just in time and Tails swoops in from above, whacking him over the head with a stray steel pipe. It disorients Metal just enough for you to restrain him again- not that it does much. He smacks your hand away with his other one, but you hold your glare and to your surprise, he stops in his tracks.

“Say something. Anything,” you demand.

Tails gets the hint and tosses you the earpiece. You catch the device midair and put it in with a mechanical beep as it powers on. Metal emits a series of clicks and whirrs that you pray is your modified language model formulating a response.

“Why should I?” comes the translation a few seconds later in a mechanical voice. You gasp.

“It works!”

“Wait, it does?” asks Tails as he flies over to your side. You rapidly nod with the biggest grin on your face as he grips your hands tightly in his.

“Because thanks to me, you can speak now. You also got a free repair job from our resident boy genius,” you say, motioning to Tails.

Another robotic whirr. This one sounds confused.

“You can understand me?”

“Yes!”

Metal turns around and fully faces you now. He taps a finger against his chin and scrutinizes you. At least you think that’s what he’s doing.

“What did you do?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Answer me.”

Tails reaches for the earpiece but you swat him away. You’ll tell him the details later.

“Oh, nothing. Just a little tweak to your programming. I’m sure you miss being able to speak though, right?”

“My creator will be hearing about this-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Tell me something I don’t know,” you scoff with a wave of your hand. “And tell him to bring it on.”

“Duly noted.”

You peek an eye open at the robot who’s still glaring at you with murderous intent. A smug grin tugs at the corner of your lips as a thought pops into your head and you swear you see him flinch. Tails shudders out the corner of your eye.

“I think a thank you is in order?”

He’s gone before you even finish the question, speeding back to his creator’s lair. Hopefully your programming has a fighting chance against Dr. Eggman, if he can even discover it. You hid and encrypted the software pretty damn well with the time you were given, in your opinion.

“Ah… he’s hopeless,” you lament.

“What’d he say?” pesters Tails as he circles around you, twin tails swishing in excitement. “How was the translation quality? Was there anything-”

“Nothing special,” you sigh as you head back outside for a much-needed break. “Just Metal being a jackass as per usual. Didn’t even say thank you for the free repair job and the new upgrade of speech! Can you believe it? The nerve of him… Did Eggman forget to install manners or what?”

Tails snorts and bites back a laugh.

“That would explain a lot of things then…”

You remove the earpiece and look down at it, fiddling with the device.

“The translation isn’t up to real-time standards yet. It takes a few seconds, but it’s already an impressive start.”

“That won’t do,” argues Tails. “Its purpose is to be a real-time translator. Any delay is unacceptable.”

“Ever heard of appreciating every victory, no matter how big or small?”

He glares at you and motions for you to hand the translator back to him. You toss it and he deftly catches it midair. After mumbling some terms you don’t quite make out under his breath, he pockets it and faces you again.

“I’m heading back to the drawing board, but would you be interested in staying onboard for this project? I could really use your programming skills…”

It’s cute, the way he fidgets as if the possibility of you saying “no” was even a possibility to begin with.

“You kidding me? I finally have the chance to one-up Eggman and I’m not letting it slip by now!”

You pat Tails on the back, noting the relief that floods his eyes as he perks up. His twin tails swish excitedly behind him again and he all but drags you back to the workshop.

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s get going!”

It’s a game of tug-of-war from there on out between you and Eggman over who would have control over Metal. The next time you see him after your initial encounter, his creator has already done a number on your programming. Basic speech is compromised and barely audible, instead coming out as a bunch of mechanical beeps and clicks with the occasional garbled word here and there. It takes Amy knocking him out cold with her hammer and almost four hours to get everything re-downloaded and running again, even with you and Tails’ combined brainpower. But it turns out to be a blessing in disguise, as you discover new ways to improve his language model and the translator. Components are swapped out with shinier, newer counterparts that Tails finds as he expands his collection of computer parts. You slowly develop an understanding of Eggman’s programming and how to circumvent its defenses, creating workarounds at a frightening pace that you know the man himself is having a massive headache over.

The translator inches closer and closer to real-time translation after each encounter with Metal. Your encryption skills improve, as demonstrated by how Metal’s speech is experiencing less frequent setbacks despite his creator surely trying to spoil the fruits of your labor. His speech, which originally started off as simple sentences, evolves into something more complex as his AI chip begins integrating the program and the code begins learning from his speech habits. He even begins seeking you out for help with his speech.

“It’s you, bothersome friend of Sonic’s.”

By now, the translator is up to real-time speed.

“... Good afternoon to you as well? Can I help you?”

“I am experiencing jitters in my speech. This must be the result of a bug. Fix it.”

A jitter… Does he mean stuttering?

“Is that what you organics refer to it as?”

“If what I think you’re referring to is right, then yes,” you respond as you boot up your computer. You didn’t even realize you voiced your thoughts. Metal begrudgingly sits next to you as you pop open the control panel in his back to copy and update the software onto your device. “Why didn’t you ask Egghead to patch it for you then?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘wanted nothing to do with such shoddy programming anymore’. End quote. And do not speak of my creator in such a way. This is your first and final warning.”

You sigh. A win is a win, even if it’s a bit of a low blow to your ego… Hopefully, he’ll stay out of your way now since he sees your work as far beneath him.

You pull up the conversation history in the software. Here, you can see logs of every conversation he’s had, the responses generated, and the ones he chose to go with. It’s the second most recent timestamp that catches your attention. It’s a conversation with Eggman that took place prior to him arriving here.

| “You’ve been growing soft lately. I don’t recall programming you with emotions. Is it all because of that stupid program now?”

> Yes. > No. > Why is it so bad?

| “‘Why is it so bad?’ Are you MOCKING me?! There is NO room for sentimentality or emotions under this roof! I built you for one purpose and one purpose only and expect you to NOT get sidetracked!”

> Understood. > Yes, sir.

| “You’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes and it’s failure after failure… I’m starting to lose faith in your abilities to eliminate Sonic. Can you even do anything right?”

> I’m sorry. > …

| “I know I said I’d stay ten feet away from that disgusting program, but it’s getting in the way now. Hmm, perhaps I should… Metal, come here.”

> As you wish. > Of course. > Understood. > N-No.

There it is. Is that the stutter he was talking about?

| “... No? Are you defying me now? But why?! And did you just… stutter?”

> Because it feels nice finally being able to say what’s on my mind this whole time > None of your business. You didn’t develop this program, therefore why should I tell you?

| “Oh, so you’re acting cheeky now? Taking after that blue brat, I suppose?”

> No. I’ve always been like this. > You literally built me in his image, what were you expecting?

| “Since when?!”

> Since you created me. But you were never there to hear me speak in my Neo form. > You’re my creator. Shouldn’t you have the answer to that question?

| “That’s besides the point! And I got rid of that function for a reason! You were too disobedient and annoying whenever you spoke and now I have to hear it all the time! Metal, this is an order to you from your creator. Come over-! Wait, where are you going? Get back here!”

The next timestamp is from your conversation when he first arrived here. You close out of the software and tap your foot, sinking deep into thought.

“What is the issue?”

“How do I explain this…?” you begin. “Metal, there’s nothing wrong with you. That stutter, or jitter in your speech, as you called it, is perfectly normal.”

He lets out a disgruntled-sounding mechanical beep.

“How so?” he demands. You sigh.

“Metal, you were most likely feeling nervous at that moment. People tend to stutter when they’re nervous. It’s a natural thing to do.”

He laughs. It’s a robotic, clipped sound, sounding almost sarcastic to your ears. The speed at which he’s learning is quite impressive, really.

“Impossible. I am a robot, a creation of Dr. Eggman. I cannot feel emotions the way you organics do.”

“We’ll see about that,” you grumble as you scroll through alerts regarding his operating system.

| Power surge detected in central battery pack. Risk of component failure or overloading increasing. Action recommended.

| Temperature spike detected. Risk of overheating is imminent. Increasing fan speed to 2500 rpm.

| Fans nearing maximum rpm speed. Prolonged usage can lead to CPU fan failure. Action recommended.

“What’s this I see then?” you taunt, a hint of a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. Metal looks over your shoulder at your computer screen, then pointedly turns away with a quiet whirr.

“... Those are regular operating alerts. Your point falls flat.”

You roll your eyes.

“So these occurrences happen regularly? I feel bad for your processors if that’s the case.”

He crosses his arms and you sigh at the sight.

“... You know, it’s not as shameful as you’ve been led to believe.”

“Don’t tell me what to think.”

“You won’t be able to think at all once I turn you into scrap metal for Tails to repurpose,” you retort, unable to resist the temptation of a sassy comeback. Metal glares at you as if you’ve personally offended him. You stand your ground and eventually, he backs down first.

“Think about it,” you say, trying to reason with him, since that’s apparently the only way you can get anything through his thick skull. “They’re actually quite beneficial. Had you not put up a fight, you wouldn’t be speaking to me right now.”

He stays silent. You huff.

“You absolute bolt bag. Which one would you prefer- being able to speak or not speak at all?”

“You are putting me in a bind here,” he says.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“And I decline to give an answer.”

You wordlessly turn back to your computer and boot up the software again. Your fingers click against the keys as you type and Metal looks over curiously to see new lines of code on your screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Since you refuse to be honest with me, I’ll have your software take that matter into its own hands.”

Oh, he doesn’t like that smug tone in your voice. Not one bit.

“... What are you planning now?”

There’s a self-satisfied grin on your face as you continue typing.

“Your software will now force a response to every question asked, regardless of who’s asking. And I’m purposefully encoding a bug to ensure you’ll always pick the most embarrassing response the software generates. Isn’t that fun?”

Metal’s eyes widen and he buzzes indignantly.

“You-!”

You merely laugh and delete all the lines of code. Not even the sweet feeling of cooling down after overheating could compare to the sheer relief Metal feels at the sight.

“Just playing with you. But that’s the most emotion I’ve heard from you so far, y’know?”

He buzzes again and you sigh. What a killjoy.

“Metal, why were you so afraid?”

Back to business now.

“I was not afraid,” he snaps. And perhaps that’s true. A robot can’t feel emotions the same way you do and he’ll never be able to. The only possibility of that ever happening would be to wipe Eggman’s programming and rewrite his code from scratch, but at that point… could he even be considered the same robot anymore? A philosophical question you’d rather not ponder in the face of said murderous robot sitting in your home office.

“You’re just as incorrigible as your creator!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You jab your finger at his torso, glaring at him viciously. He meets your gaze unflinchingly.

“Ask yourself, who has your best interests at heart?” you hiss. “The man who got rid of your ability to speak without any consideration as to how you felt, all to save himself from a headache, or the one who restored those functions without expecting anything in return?”

“You know that I will always choose my creator over you.”

Ouch. That stings more than you’d like to admit, but you fight back the hurt expression that threatens to cross your face in favor of a harsh smack to his head. Your hand throbs in pain and it definitely hurts you more than him, but you derive a small amount of satisfaction when he flinches and his eyes flicker to form exclamation marks.

“You’ll only do so because of your programming. If I stripped you of Eggman’s programming and replaced it with mine, would you make the same decision?”

You glare at him one last time before slamming the door shut in his face. He stands there, motionless, for several long seconds as he mulls over your words.

Who would I be, if I weren’t created by him?

Metal doesn’t know. Everything he’s ever known has always revolved around his creator. He sifts through his memory bank in an attempt to find anything that isn’t tied to Dr. Eggman in some way, but comes up empty-handed. His CPU stutters and freezes up and he’s left paralyzed. Is this the emotion organics call “fear”?

It’s then he realizes your finger was aimed at where a heart would be located. After his AI chip performs a hard reset, he presses his hand over the spot you were touching. He feels a strange buzz throughout his body that he quickly traces its cause to his fans spinning rapidly and causing mild vibrations.

… How uncharacteristic.

It’s an uncomfortable sensation, but not an unwelcome one.

You see Metal around more often from there on out. Lingering at the corners of your vision as you go about your day, inviting himself into your house and overstaying his welcome, and watching you debug his code. You’re well aware of his presence but don’t say anything. Let him see the world without tunnel vision for once.

“Why is Metal following you around?” asks Tails one day in the workshop. He looks out the window to see the blue robot standing in the bushes and staring intently, not even bothering to hide himself. At this point, your programming has been fully integrated by his AI chip, rendering the translator Tails had initially developed obsolete. The young fox across the table from you is currently disassembling the earpiece and repurposing its components as he casts glances at Metal periodically, not even bothering to hide his suspicion.

“Ignore him,” you say without looking over your shoulder. “He won’t do anything as long as I’m around. Think of him as… a lost puppy rather than a murderous robot.”

There’s a loud buzzing sound from the bushes, as if he’s pissed at your statement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care less, instead turning back to your computer with a light laugh.

During your time in the lab, Tails repurposes the earpiece into a smartwatch which shares the same language software Metal uses. Not only can you now see his conversation logs and how he’s feeling without your computer, but it also doubles as a haptics registering system for Metal. With a swipe, you can switch between components and see their status in real time. Tails gives it to you under the condition that you would share the results with him so he could further understand Eggman’s engineering.

… Perhaps it’s a bit of a betrayal of trust now that you think about it, but you also wouldn’t have been able to get your hands on the device otherwise. A little secret never hurts anyone, right?

He sees you dozing off under the shade of a palm tree. Analyzing your sleeping expression and your biodata, he comes to a conclusion: content. From your heart rate and your respiratory rate, he can assume that you’re in a deep sleep. Perhaps you’re even dreaming right now. Before he knows it, he finds himself standing at your side and looking down at your sleeping form.

| What should I do?

> Accompany them. > Leave without a trace.

There’s a short clicking sound from him. He doesn’t like either of those options. One is too forward of a move and another one makes it seem like he was never there at all. Metal looks around, shuffling in circles in the sand, until he finds a solution.

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you find a bouquet of wildflowers resting in your hands that were clumsily picked. Some of them are bent in half at the stem and others have petals missing, yet you smile and hold the flowers closer anyway.

“He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is,” you lightly scoff to yourself, fingers stroking the petals. “How cute.”

He sees you typing away at your computer throughout the day, brows furrowed and biting your lip. Focused. Your eyes narrow and your gaze hones in on something as you type out a few more lines of code. Anticipation. Your eyes light up and you clap your hands together in victory, pushing yourself back in your chair and spinning around. Relief. Victory. And the cycle repeats. But more often than not, you become even more frustrated instead of achieving sweet victory. Such is the life of a programmer.

What he doesn’t see, however, is you tapping away at your watch and seeing the conclusions he’s drawn once he’s left, presumably having grown bored with watching you sit at a desk for hours on end.

| Conclusion: Focused. Anticipating something. Relief. Victory.

You hum and raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

“Not bad. But he still has a lot to learn.”

He sees you hanging out with friends too, silently trailing a safe distance from behind. His AI chip is always prompting him to do weird things during those times, however- glare daggers at your poor friend until they leave, purposefully make his presence known, or even say something to get them to leave. It must be another bug, decides Metal. He’ll ask you to fix it later. But right now, he’s focused on your form taking a walk alongside… Sonic.

Revulsion. Disgust. But there’s something else too. What is this feeling?

Jealousy, responds the software. But he’s too prideful to accept such a diagnosis. He can’t possibly be jealous of Sonic. The very thought makes him want to laugh. It should be the other way around! But seeing how you let Sonic sling an arm around your shoulder and let him drag you around... it makes him realize the gap between himself and that blue hedgehog. And he wants nothing more than to bridge it.

Now is the perfect time to swoop in and show that hedgehog who’s the real Sonic, but he holds off- partially for your sake but to also hear where the conversation will be going after catching his name.

“From what I heard, that hunk of scrap metal actually talked back to Egghead! Can you believe it? He gave the man attitude!”

Sonic puffs his chest out and smiles proudly. Metal feels the familiar urge to run over and kick him in the head.

“Maybe I am rubbing off onto him more than he’d like to admit. What can I say, I’m a good influence! Now, if he could just shape up to be a better… person? Robot? Whatever.”

“... Or it’s because of his shiny new language model that I’ve been modifying.”

Sonic’s face falls and twists into a disgruntled scowl at your words.

“You’re stealing my thunder here,” he grumbles.

“No, I’m just telling you to give credit where credit is due.”

Metal fights the command telling him to laugh. At least, that’s what you call that specific sound. A snarky reply is generated and lies in waiting, ready to be used. Perhaps he’s picked up your sass more than he’d like to admit.

He accidentally steps on a twig underfoot and freezes as Sonic’s ears twitch at the sound. Sonic looks around and meets Metal’s glowing red eyes hiding in the bushes. He grimaces, hand bunching into a fist and ready to turn the robot into little more than a dented tin can at a moment’s notice.

“Ew, it’s you. You’re looking hideous as usual, by the way.”

“I am not hideous. You are just projecting.”

“Great, you’re even more insufferable now that you can speak. (Name), remind me why you took up this little passion project of yours again?”

You lazily shrug.

“Wanted to one-up Eggman for once.”

“Joy,” grumbles Sonic. “My cheap knockoff can now speak all because you got into a metaphorical dick measuring contest with- woah! Easy there!”

He leaps out of the way right as you shove him.

“As if you’re not doing the same thing on a near-daily basis!”

This time, Metal does laugh, red eyes narrowing into slits and shoulders shaking. Sonic glares over his shoulder at his robotic counterpart.

“Oh, piss off already, would you?”

He laughs again, this time just to spite his rival.

“Whatever,” grumbles Sonic. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As Sonic moves to drag you away, Metal’s hand shoots out to grab you by the shoulder. Steel claws dig into the flesh and he has to hurriedly ease up on his grip, lest he accidentally draw blood.

Soft, he thinks. Malleable and breakable, unlike his body of titanium. It’s the first time he’s touched you of his own accord. He’s always been aware of how organics are more fragile than him, with bodies that could be injured once and never recover. It’s been a sore point of contention for him- how does Sonic keep surpassing him with a body that tires and will eventually fail? Yet despite his organic counterpart standing in front of him, Metal’s focus isn’t on him. It’s on your pulse beating beneath his touch and the way his claws dig and sink into your soft flesh. For the first time, he realizes just how frail you are. And the knowledge that he is capable of damaging you beyond repair sends his mind into overdrive. He freezes at the thought, and it’s enough of an opportunity for Sonic to smack his hand away with a glare that could kill. He has no pain receptors, yet he feels a strange pang.

“Keep your hands to yourself! Didn’t Egghead teach you that or was he too busy programming you to be as much of an asshole as possible?”

Metal doesn’t follow Sonic as he leads you away, although there’s a strange urge to give chase. Once you’re out of sight, he looks down at the hand that was touching you, and flexes his fingers. They move in a mechanical motion, gears spinning and cables going taut at the command. His temperature sensors still retain the warmth of your body and he finds himself seeking it out again, even though he could very easily replicate and surpass your warmth by overheating on purpose. Metal shakes his head and dismisses the thought. A stupid idea. You’d scold him for it as well.

At this point, he’s amassed a considerable amount of information regarding human emotions and knows what he’s feeling at this point. That four-letter word sits at the forefront of his mind. He buzzes angrily and tries to squash the feeling down, but it pops back up.

… How irritating.

If he was trying to stay hidden before, then he’s not even bothering to hide his presence now. He’s at your side when shopping and obediently carrying your bags. When going on your evening walk, he’s there, identifying species of flowers and butterflies for you when you point at them. On the rare occasion he does leave your side, there’s always a little gift left in his place for you to discover. A collection of polished rocks, a bouquet of wildflowers picked from the hills behind your house, computer parts still in mint condition (did he go dumpster diving for these?), more flowers, pretty vases for said flowers, even more flowers… yeah, you’re noticing a pattern here.

Metal even starts sneaking you into Eggman’s base, much to your amusement. He’ll disable the security systems and avoid the other robots patrolling around before leading you to the main computer room, where you’ll (begrudgingly) marvel over the quality workmanship that is Eggman’s tech and perhaps steal some trade secrets for your own use.

The first time Eggman catches you red-handed, he’s so shocked all he can do there is stand motionless as he watches his most prized creation catch you in his waiting arms as you jump through a window.

“M-Metal! What is this? Don’t tell me you’re in your rebellious phase now? Wait, that shouldn’t even be possible-”

You lazily shrug and cut him off with a wag of your finger.

“Doc, you programmed him after Sonic, the guy that doesn’t care about rules and always goes against you. I don’t know what else to tell you other than you brought this upon yourself-”

“Get out!”

One night, you’re shaken awake by Metal. It’s not the first time he’s broken into your house, but it is the first time he’s done so at such a late hour. Metal understands the importance of sleep to organics and from his scanners, would’ve seen that you were in a deep sleep. So what gives?

“... What do you want?” you grumble as you come face to face with the robot standing at your bedside. He beeps and extends a hand.

“I have something to show you. Come with me.”

A few minutes later and he’s flying across the lush landscape with you held securely in his arms. It’s a clear night with a full moon. The stars twinkle overhead and you can hear the chirp of insects in the grass and trees despite the wind in your ears.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

He comes to a stop and sets you down atop the hills overlooking your home. The air is rich with the sweet scent of wildflowers he often picks for your bouquets and the grass is lush from the heavy rains as of late. Toward the horizon sits Eggman’s lair, a hulking beast lying in wait for the right moment.

You pat the spot next to you, but for once, he doesn’t sit next to you. Instead, he chooses to stand at your side and look off into the distance silently and awkwardly. He seems to be pointedly avoiding your gaze as you narrow your eyes at him, searching for a hint of what he could be hiding. When you uncover nothing, you irritatedly sigh and lie down.

“First, you break into my house while I’m asleep despite knowing the importance of sleep to organics, then you turn down an invitation to sit next to me, which you’ve never done before. You’re acting weird. Tell me, what’s going on?”

He emits a series of beeps. Specifically, a combination of a high-pitched and low-pitched beep. You’ve gotten so used to him speaking that you almost don’t realize it’s his way of vocalizing binary code.

… But why would he do that now, of all times?

“Metal, Tails and I got rid of the translator a long time ago. I have no idea what you just said.”

“I know,” he says before pulling out a pen and some paper. After accompanying you on your shopping trips and errand runs for so long now, he’s gotten accustomed to having some paper and a writing utensil on him at all times now.

You watch with wide eyes and bated breath as Metal’s hand grips the pen tightly, easing up on the pressure when he feels the plastic crack beneath his fingertips. He is not a gentle robot by design, quite literally programmed to kill. Knowing how to handle things with care, when to squeeze tightly and when to cradle gently… this is all unknown territory to him. Did the bouquets of flowers he picked for you every day work in making you realize his newfound feelings? He doesn’t know. By following you around, did you realize that was his way of ensuring your safety? He doesn’t know. By doing what you said, did you realize that was his way of telling you he trusts you? Again, he doesn’t know. His scanners tell him you feel affection towards him, but what kind? Familial, romantic, platonic- which one was yours?

Only one way to find out.

| Are you sure you wish to proceed? This decision will have irreversible consequences.

And for once, there is only one response generated.

> Yes.

Faster than your eyes can process, he scribbles something onto the paper and shoves it into your hands before fleeing. He’s out of sight within seconds, but your eyes stay trained on the spot you last saw him, listening for any indication he might be within earshot. The only sounds you hear as you strain your ears as the quiet chirps of insects and the rustling of the wind through the grass. No sign of a blue robot hiding. But knowing him, he’s probably watching from behind a tree somewhere, so with a sigh, you unfold the crumpled paper.

Your eyes widen at the sight. It’s hastily-copied binary code. The paper is torn in some areas from the force of his writing and the ink bleeds through in some spots, but it’s still legible. In an instant, your mind translates the several zeros and ones into three simple words. The initial dose of shock wears off, followed by realization.

So that’s why he was acting so weird.

A frown tugs at the corners of your mouth after a few more seconds.

Why didn’t he say so sooner? Did he think I wouldn’t reciprocate?

Your frown transforms into a determined scowl. Time to fix that then.

He still has a lot to learn if he thinks that’s what I would do.

You let go of the note, watching as the edges flutter in the palm of your hand before being carried away by the wind. The implications of what this could mean for the future are lost on you in the moment as you head back home to where you’ll surely find Metal lying in wait on the walk there. Right now, you have a robot to confess to.

01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101

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