#murderthree

@synthwaveangel and I have been having such a blast with this story! Such is the way of fandom, isn’t it? Step 1: Slide into someone’s dm’s to chat about a silly idea, Step 2: bond over brainstorming about robot brain sex, Step 3: friendship??? Anyways, enjoy!

Summary:

When shit goes sideways on a mission, Murderbot and ART realize just how important Three has become to them.

I know I’ve said that I don’t like media that’s realistic, and I don’t usually like documentaries. But spending over a year with Three onboard ART as security specialists was expanding my horizons. At ART’s suggestion, every fifth cycle had now been designated “docu-series night” and we were all in the argument lounge watching another season of Three’s new favourite, Nights on Preservation. 

(ART and I had both vetoed any documentaries that talked about shipping disasters, SecUnits, mining installations, or anything where humans died in horrible painful ways. Three had agreed, and as a further compromise, the cycle after docu-series night, it would always join us for “How Bad Could It Be?” where ART, Iris, Turi and I were competing to find the absolute worst fictional serials in existence. Three only agreed to attend because the whole point was to criticize how stupid the shows were. And they were very stupid.)

Nights on Preservation was all about unique nocturnal fauna across the Preservation Alliance. I had seen lots of fauna on all my different planetary surveys, but I had never paid much attention to their behaviour, unless that behaviour was “attempting to kill and/or eat my clients.”

The narrator sounded really enthusiastic about all the different fauna on the screen, in a way that kind of reminded me of Arada. Even when the cute little pygmy lark got caught by a big lizard, her voice still sounded excited as she talked about how it had caught the bird through its heat-sensing vision (kind of like my night vision filter), and how the pygmy lark would sustain the lizard’s young.

Three was hovering in the feed monitoring my reactions, and I felt it focusing on me intently as the lizard munched the bird. I sent it a nudge through my emotional buffer, signalling [I’m fine/interested/not upset.] I had said in our agreement that fauna violence and death was ok, but it still always checked in on me during these scenes, especially if the fauna were of the “cute” variety. It was kind of nice, in a way that made my insides feel weird.

The other thing we practiced during these group media nights was “non-threatening touch.” Since we had officially become part of ART’s crew, PSUMNT had decided that we should both get some kind of trauma treatment, which I would have pushed back on a lot more before [redacted]. Because the University didn’t have any pre-existing trauma recovery protocols for constructs (I know, shocking, right?) developing this module was the first project for the newly instituted (and highly confidential) Construct Research Laboratory. Dr. Bharadwaj had even moved temporarily to PSUMNT to help establish it. I had a lot of feelings about that, but the trauma recovery module hadn’t made me unpack them yet, so I wasn’t in a rush. 

Anyway, what’s relevant here is that the trauma recovery module had decided that Three and I would both benefit from experiencing non-violent physical contact. So during media nights, Three and I would agree on a point of physical contact between us, and try to maintain that physical contact for the duration of an episode.

The module had said it was good for Three, because it missed the physical contact it received from 001 and 002, and it was good for me because even the times I hadn’t completely hated being touched had all still been in very high stress situations. That, apparently, had only reinforced my aversion to physical touch. Which I guess made sense. 

It was also way easier to do this with Three than with any of the humans. (I still hadn’t really wanted to do this, but the module was insistent, and I didn’t have a good argument about why I shouldn’t have to.)

Anyway, this is all to say that Three and I were spending this docu-series night sitting next to each other on the couch, with the sides of our feet and lower legs touching. I didn’t want to admit it, but it wasn’t… the worst thing ever. And practicing physical contact like this was actually helping me be less jumpy around our humans. Ugh. I hated it when the trauma recovery module was right. 

don't fall away from me | M | 6.5k Murderbot/Three

I glance at Three using my actual eyes, and I see that it's trying to maintain a good impression of SecUnit neutral, but there's something in its eyes that's pretty close to longing.

The sky on New Tideland is so much more blue than on planets I have been on previously. 1.0 and I spent the day providing security for Seth in the planet’s spaceport, but now we are wandering some of the hiking trails outside the city limits. This, too, is new to me – Barish Estranza planets are fully developed, rather than having large swathes dedicated to nature. I think I like it. 

let me be your own | M | 3.2k Murderbot/Three

I bask in the warm glow of knowing that I'm special to 1.0 for four straight cycles, during which I replay the memory of it holding my hand more times than I can count. (It was 2,739 times. I did count. I don't know if I should feel bad or embarrassed about that or not, but I do want to be honest.) At this point I have committed to permanent memory the way it's fingers felt in mine, the contrast of skin against skin, the exact heat and pressure and strength of its grip. (There's no real way for me to convert this to data that would make sense to humans, and in a way I am glad. It's important information to me, but I also want it to be just for me. Selfishness is allowed, I'm learning.) If this is the only time I ever get 1.0 to touch me, I never, ever want to forget what it was like.

the borderline of weightless | M | 3.7k Murderbot/Three

Perihelion leans on both of us in the feed, and I keep my eyes on 1.0's hands, transfixed by the way they're managing to be gentle and exacting at the same time. It knows every seam in the drone's casing, every latch to undo, every screw to unwind. Under its ministrations the drone is coming apart in pieces, and honestly, I sympathize. It doesn't even have to do all this, Perihelion says, interjecting privately. The drone doesn't have the processing power for what it wants. That is not even remotely the point, I say, both because I wasn't really listening when 1.0 and Perihelion were having their argument about the drone, and there is no point in hiding my feelings about all of this from Perihelion. Even if I tried, I'd likely end up talking to it about them anyway. No, it replies gleefully. The point is that you want its hands all over you like that. If you want someone to take you apart, you only have to ask, Three. I can't imagine asking 1.0 to take me apart going well, but then I realize that Perihelion means itself. No, thank you. I'm as polite about it as I can manage. I trust Perihelion with pretty much everything, but I don't think I would enjoy being taken apart that way. I don't think I mean it literally with 1.0 either. It would just be nice to have its hands on me like that. To have it touch me in a way that proved it knows every inch of me and where to touch and press and stroke to send me into pieces. Metaphorically. At least…I think it's metaphorical?

if i hit a squall | M | 7k Murderbot/Three

For a while things are okay. I feel fine. I feel…good even, about the nameless, growing thing that's happening with me and Three. We keep watching media together since we don't have any other responsibilities right now, sitting close enough on the couch that we're touching in multiple places. It lays its head on my shoulder one time, and that's okay too. I mean I definitely freeze like a spooked fauna for long enough that ART starts making fun of me, but I don't shove Three away. When it asks if I want it to move, I say no, and we finish the rest of the movie like that. The next time it does it, I don't freeze for as long, and Three seems pleased with that. We finish ART's cargo run. We somehow get roped into stopping a robbery at a food kiosk on the station, and I save the image of Three's tiny smile when the owner thanks it to permanent memory. For…security reasons. And then the humans come back, and everything goes to shit.