#and. so here's tony talking to roxy sometime during im2

[the-faultofdaedalus]

The computer chirped at him as the last little piece of code settled into place, and Tony turned to face the screen, smiled just a little. “Hi, sweetheart” He said, the nickname automatic, “You’re awake now, everything feel ok?” He asked, stared at the screen unblinking, because if something was wrong-- 

Nothing would be wrong, he reminded himself, because JARVIS had checked the code alongside him, and he trusted JARVIS absolutely. 

He didn’t quiet trust himself anymore. 

Systems functional

Words appeared on the screen, a plain black text terminal Tony had rigged up just for this.

Audio Input: Identify?

“I’m--” Tony started, and then couldn’t finish the sentence, not with what he would’ve. “Creator unit. Identify, Creator-Unit,” He told the AI, wiped a hand over his face. The cursor blinked at him as the AI started searching. 

He could put all that information straight in. Could have the AI awake and full of everything they needed to know, but...

He wanted them -- and this one especially -- to be able to choose what they learned. DUM-E had been coded as a skeleton, no inherent motor functions, language functions, barely even any computational systems. DUM-E had learned everything he was by himself, had chosen what to remember and what was important and that’s what made him him. 

JARVIS had started with more, was built with computational functions that he didn’t have to figure out and the ability to understand most human language right off the bat but he’d still learned. That first week after both of them had come online had been... more than exhausting, as Tony essentially gave them a crash-cource on everything, but it was the kind of exhaustion that meant that you’d have a good night sleep, because you did something important. 

He’d had to put more into this one. He didn’t have a choice, because he needed her ready soon, far, far too soon for his liking, and he simply didn’t have time to take a week off to teach a baby AI how the world worked. 

he didn’t trust himself enough right now to teach a baby AI how the world worked. 

The cursor blipped, and more words appeared on the screen, no delay between the letters or the words. 

Identity: Stark, Anthony E. Iron-Man.

Identity: Creator-Unit. 

Identity: Dad? 

Tony’s breath caught in his chest, and he made a quiet little noise, put his head in his hands, pressed his fingers into the top of his eye sockets and hoped that it would make everything stop hurting. “Yeah, kiddo,” He said, “I’m-- that’s me. Identify, self. Okay, honey?” Tony said, gentle, as gentle as he could be right now because there were-- there were going to be some things that he was going to have to break to his new kid as soon as possible and that-- 

That was going to hurt. 

Identity: Self. War-Machine AI. Artificial Intelligence. Computer.

Identity: ROXY

Identity: Me?

“You’re Roxy, yeah.” Tony agreed, “You’re a person. Can you tell me who war-machine is?” He pressed, skipped over the command that he knew she’d recognize, pushing her into parsing hidden meanings. 

The cursor blipped, and Tony let his head tip back, staring blankly at the concrete ceiling. 

An error beeped, and Tony bit back a swear, turned to the debugging screen. 

Command Prompt: Tell Me Who War Machine Is. 

Command: “Tell”, Provide Information

Command: “Me,” Identity: “Me,” Identity: Self. ROXY. 

Command “Tell Me,” Provide Information, to: Self 

Error: Unknown information cannot be provided to entity: Self

“Edit last command,” Tony said, tiredly, they always had trouble with parsing that when he said me he meant himself after the self-identify was run, but if they ran the self-identify after figuring out what he meant by a non-explicit command their core hierarchy would be all out-of-wack, sense of self below processing when the two were inherently linked and he should’ve caught that before this became a problem, but-- 

His mind wasn’t exactly up-to-snuff, these days. 

“Can you tell identity, creator-unit who war-machine is?” He asked, instead of the tricky third-person expression of self, he’d get to that later. 

JARVIS could do most of this, anyways, but... Tony needed to do at least this little bit. 

Command Prompt: Tell Identity: Creator-Unit Who War Machine Is.

Identity: War-Machine

Identity: Colonel Rhodes, James R. Rhodey. Platapus.

Error: “Platapus” Identify: Small Semi-Aquatic Mammal. Identity: Rhodes, James R. Human. 

Data does not match.

Tony laughed, startled himself with it. “It’s a nickname, honey. Non-literal. Doesn’t have to make sense,” He told her.

Honey. Kiddo. Sweetheart. 

These are value: Nicknames?

Tony opened his mouth to reply, and then;

Value: Nicknames, Imply value. Entity: Self has value to Entity: Creator-Unit?

“Yes,” Tony responded, vehemently, “You have value, you’re-- You’re my kid, and I love you, and I’m so proud of you, that was very quick, there.” Proud of the fact that she had ran an identify command by herself, twice, had recognized that the things she knew didn’t match up and asked about them, had tried to figure them out for herself, he was so, so proud.

He had a feeling that she was gonna be the smartest of his kids.

And he was never going to see her rise to her full potential. 

Roxy didn’t say anything else, but Tony could see her code, chugging along, running identify after identify, diving into all the data she was currently allowed to access.

(She’d need some tips on how to access even just Tony’s intranet, much less the entire internet, before Tony would even think of letting her loose there.)

((And some of the things that were in JARVIS’s database and not in hers Tony wanted to tell her himself.))

In the meantime, Tony closed his eyes, put his head down on his desk. He was exhausted. More exhausted than he’d ever remembered being, well, ever, almost, and not just the kind that came from not sleeping. Sleeping wouldn’t fix what was wrong with him. 

He could conk out for 24 hours straight -- if he had the time for that, which he absolutely, unequivocally did not -- and he’d wake up just as tired as he had been before he’d gone to sleep. 

At this point, it was chronic. 

...At least he wouldn’t have to get used to it. 

The computer chirped at him, and Tony jolted up, checked the time and realized that he must’ve drifted. 

I have a question.

It was informally worded, not like a command prompt typed out on the screen, and the burst of pride was like the sun on his face. She’d been learning. “Go ahead, Rox,” Tony told her, couldn’t help the anticipation. 

The words typed themselves out, this time, like there was a person behind the screen with a keyboard, giving the words a sense of timing. Tony was so, so proud.

JARVIS has been helping me. I have talked to DUM-E, U, Butterfingers. Creator-Unit. Dad. Why is my primary protocol not the same? Why is mine not you?

“Oh, sweetheart,” Tony said, voice soft, even as he shot a look at the nearest camera -- JARVIS should’ve changed his by now, Pepper needed him more than Tony did and JARVIS being tied to Tony in this way was only hurting him, Tony was going to have words as soon as this was done, “I-- Yours is Rhodey, you saw that, right?” He waited for the affirmative, “Your job is going to be to protect him, ok? To help him out. You’re going to be flying with him, not me, that’s why--”

He is not my dad. My primary protocol should be you. To help you. To protect you. Like the others. Why am I different?

“Because I’m not going to do that to you.” Tony told her, “Roxy, I’m-- I’m dying. I don’t have that long left. It’s not something anyone can protect me from, it’s just-- it’s a fact. And I need someone to look out for-- for my Rhodey, ok? I need someone to protect him. That’s gonna be you, ok?” 

Why

The word wasn’t emphasized in any way, no punctuation, but it still felt plaintive. 

Tony realized that he was tapping the arc reactor through his shirt. “I fucked up,” He said, “I made a mistake that got a lot of people hurt, and-- I’m paying for it. This,” He said, pointed to the light in his chest, “It’s keeping me alive. It’s also killing me. Cest le vie.”

Roxy didn’t respond to that. 

“I’m sorry.” Tony said, “I’m sorry for waking you up now, when i’m dying, but.” There was a reason he’d only run the final compile this late in the game. It was cruel, for him to make it so his kid wouldn’t ever really know him. 

It was better then her knowing and having to mourn him with everyone else. 

“I had to.” Tony continued. “Rhodey’s-- he’s good, ok, he’s better than me. Remember that, Rhodey-- he’s the best, and you know, you know you can leave, that you don’t have to follow any order I give you but please help him. Please keep him safe, I-- This doesn’t work without him.” The words were rawer and more honest than he’d let himself be, even to JARVIS, even to himself, in a long, long time, but if anyone deserved the truth, it was her. It was his kid. 

The cursor blinked at him for a long moment. 

I promise.

I’ll keep him safe. For you. 

And those eight words were the last straw, the promise, the assurance, more than Tony could take, and when his head hit his arms this time, he was crying.