Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. And I probably never will...
Summary: The thoughts and feelings of one of Slade's giant mechanical worms from Titan Rising. Rated for character death (ehhh... sorta?). One shot.
Author's notes: Ahh... the joys of sugar highs... This has got to be the weirdest fic I have ever written.
Machines Have Feelings Too
Orders: destroy Titans' Tower.
The commands were simple. He and his fellows would never have an easier task. First, though, there was a special assignment, just for him. He had to give the Titans and the Master's spy a taste of what they were up against. He tunneled under the city, knowing that they would pick up and follow his trail. The Master had programmed everything he knew about the Titans into the worm's mind. And the Master knew a lot about the Titans.
The feeling of his nose spinning was actually quite... interesting. It kind of tickled, but not really. When he burst into the streets, there were the Titans, ready to face him. He roared and went for the nearest object - a bus. The female bird-Titan picked it up and moved it to safety. The leader said something, but he was programmed to understand the Master's voice pattern only and couldn't make sense from the garbled speech. The metal-robot one added something and tossed a car at him. It hit him and he fell over.
The fight went on like that for a while. He hurt them, but not seriously, per his orders. Simple. Then, he retreated and went to meet up with his fellows for their next job.
The Titans followed, of course. He could feel their footsteps coming down his tunnel. His mind was blank, except for satisfaction at a job well done. When the next job was completed, perhaps the Master would give them all a word of praise, a slight display of affection... It was what they longed for, all of them, all of his creations. It was why they strove so hard to defeat the Titans and, though they were well smart enough to complain or revolt, only agreed with all of the Master's choices and plans. They were, after all, very good plans.
If he had been physically capable of smirking, he would have. He led the Titans to the agreed point and vanished into the ground. He didn't go far, however, and could feel their footsteps and voice patterns. With a roar, he pushed out of the soil again and tunneled toward his next assignment. Titans' Tower was the goal now.
In the back of his robotic, artificial intelligence-wired mind, he knew that the Master would never praise him, or any of the others. They were tools, expendable... He probably had no idea, even, that his creations thought and felt. But they did - and oh, how they felt! A word of affection or even a simple "good job" from the Master would satisfy any of them forever and beyond. Even a slight shift from the cold tone that he made a habit of always using was considered the highest of achievements. All the younger creations, when put on stand by mode, let their increasingly more complex minds dream about the Master actually loving them. The older creations didn't bother with these 'dreams'. They were more practical, but still yearned for affection. They all knew that it was likely to never happen to any of them, not even the blond earth-Titan-spy that the Master was so fond of. The best they could do was obey orders, finish their jobs, and hope with every bit of hope in their circuits.
It was the last girl, the hyper-female Titan, that followed him. She and her comrades were too late, however. There was nothing they could do. He and his fellows were practically indestructible.
A sharp pain... well, almost, but not quite pain, exactly... on his back made him twitch. He kept circling, however, along with his fellows and shooting his laser into the ground around Titans' Tower. The metal-robot one said something, but he couldn't make it out. Then there was a strange sensation, like something climbing into him. And something had. The green shifter-Titan had shifted into some small creature that was now chewing at his circuits.
Words flashed in front of his eyes and his own artificial voice filled his brain. Systems failing... shutting down... mission failure inevitab... That was it. He didn't even have time to finish the word. His fellows were in the same shape, falling. Just before he hit the ground and his systems were destroyed beyond repair, he noted absently that he would never see the day - if it came - when the Master showed affection. Maybe, just maybe, he would mourn the downfall of his servants.
Blackness. Nothing. He fought against it, but only for an instant. He didn't want to die, or whatever the equivalent was.
I hate doing that, Cyborg thought as he watched Slade's robotic worms fall. He was partially machine, after all, and so knew better than anyone - machines had feelings, too.