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Entry tags:
TPM: Barriers
Fandom: The Positronic Man
Pairing: Andrew/Little Miss
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Andrew had been reaching for Little Miss' approval all his life. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fic_on_demand.
Little Miss was simply Little Miss. Andrew had always been aware of some vague attachment to her -- something he couldn't describe or define or confine in his simple positronic pathways. It was something he shouldn't feel and therefore had no way of understanding. Later, when he came to understand himself better, past and present, he sometimes glanced over that old feeling and thought it might've been love.
She certainly had loved him. But not as he felt he loved her. He'd been a friend, almost a human -- but he'd never bridged the gap between robot and human for Little Miss. And not for her son, and not really for anyone for the first one hundred and fifty or so years of what he, for the sake of argument, called a life. She'd certainly been fond of him, but fond in the way that you might love a battered but reliable computer, or maybe more like a pet. One of the family, but not quite capable of true human emotion.
A screen for projecting feelings onto, maybe.
She'd loved him, but, and he only found the words to express this days before his death, when she was on his mind more than ever and there was little else to hold onto, so he grasped the thoughts of her and the memories of the feelings she'd expired -- she'd loved him but she had never been in love with him.
But even after her death, everything he did to move himself towards humanity was for her. For his Little Miss.
Even as he was dying, he didn't quite think... but then he was dying, slipping away, a tangible feeling, and he could almost hear her voice, called out of the past to comfort him. He was dying, the first, the only, robot to die rather than just terminate-his-essential-functions. And he felt that he'd reached it -- her -- humanity.
Pairing: Andrew/Little Miss
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Andrew had been reaching for Little Miss' approval all his life. For
fic_on_demand.Little Miss was simply Little Miss. Andrew had always been aware of some vague attachment to her -- something he couldn't describe or define or confine in his simple positronic pathways. It was something he shouldn't feel and therefore had no way of understanding. Later, when he came to understand himself better, past and present, he sometimes glanced over that old feeling and thought it might've been love.
She certainly had loved him. But not as he felt he loved her. He'd been a friend, almost a human -- but he'd never bridged the gap between robot and human for Little Miss. And not for her son, and not really for anyone for the first one hundred and fifty or so years of what he, for the sake of argument, called a life. She'd certainly been fond of him, but fond in the way that you might love a battered but reliable computer, or maybe more like a pet. One of the family, but not quite capable of true human emotion.
A screen for projecting feelings onto, maybe.
She'd loved him, but, and he only found the words to express this days before his death, when she was on his mind more than ever and there was little else to hold onto, so he grasped the thoughts of her and the memories of the feelings she'd expired -- she'd loved him but she had never been in love with him.
But even after her death, everything he did to move himself towards humanity was for her. For his Little Miss.
Even as he was dying, he didn't quite think... but then he was dying, slipping away, a tangible feeling, and he could almost hear her voice, called out of the past to comfort him. He was dying, the first, the only, robot to die rather than just terminate-his-essential-functions. And he felt that he'd reached it -- her -- humanity.