Mack was… special.

Yes, that was the word Andrew normally used… special… his own, like a possession.

It had been hard to think of Mack as a son for a long time. To him, it was hard to believe a machine could show genuine emotion, or be loved in return, and that's all Mack was, a machine. He was a very advanced piece of machinery, a bit of a trophy that he could never show off and have the world know how smart he was, because, well, he didn't know where Mack came from.

He just existed.

It was different now though. Over the two years he'd been with him, Mack had demonstrated emotions, and the Sentinel Knight had used powers beyond his comprehension to somehow turn his son human now. It was only now that he was completely comfortable with the man, adventuring and teaching him all he knew.

But things didn't start like that…

The first time Andrew had seen him, he'd been walking down the street, his face void of any emotion, dressed in all black clothing. He'd knocked into Andrew on the street, tilting his head to the side, showing a brief sign of emotion with a sweet sounding "sorry", before heading on, his face going blank again. A young woman following a few feet behind him.

It had sent a shiver down his spine.

The second time he'd seen Mack, he'd been in the main office at Hartford Industries, sweeping up. Apparently he was the new janitor, going by the name Mackenzie Foster, a hardworking man, exceptionally strong, if not somewhat creepy and ignorant of basic human etiquette. He would speak only when spoken to, and only then would his facial expression change, along with the pitch of his voice, to meet the expected emotion before going blank again.

A few women who worked at the office had been quite receptive to the new worker, but he did not appear to want their advances, or care about the gossip that swirled when he rejected them. Andrew kept an eye on him, not sure why the man's presence bothered him so, and unwilling to fire a man based on his own uneasiness.

Then things started to go missing from the supply rooms and people's desks. Specifications for various projects, data sheets, computer chips, metals, etc. Some of these things could be very dangerous on the wrong hands and others made no sense. Security guards, big men, were being knocked out and cameras disabled and nothing was coming up. No one had any idea who was doing this, but Andrew had a feeling.

One of the projects was a new design for automating security systems. It seemed stupid now that their own was failing them that they should be the ones to trust, so Andrew claimed that he took various parts of the project back to his house. In reality they were locked away inside the building, in a new location. His theory was then, if anyone was stupid enough to try and break into his mansion, well, they'd be caught easily.

So he waited.

Four days later, around ten o'clock in the evening, Andrew had heard a knock on the door, and Spencer had answered it. There was Mackenzie Foster, asking, in that unnerving voice to see him and against his instincts, he agreed.

The young man was led into his home office, and sat across from Andrew, his eyes flickering and scanning the room. "Where are the files?" He asked.

Andrew shook his head. "Mr. Foster, you're not entitled to that knowledge."

Mack's head had snapped forwards, and tilted slightly to the side. "I wish to know."

"Well you can't."

At that remark, the man had slowly stood up, grabbed Andrew by his neck and lifted him out of his chair and off of the ground with one arm, not straining to achieve this. "Where are the files?" He repeated in his emotionless voice and Andrew struggled to swallow and his head swam.

How was this possible? What was going on? Where was Spencer?

"Upstairs." He wheezed out, and Mack's expression went softer.

"Thank you for your time." He said, releasing Andrew, causing him to fall unceremoniously on his butt with a loud "thud". He turned and headed upstairs while Andrew struggled to come up with a plan. Something, besides the obvious felt wrong. He turned to see a streak of black run passed his window, and nothing more.

Should he call the police? Well… that seemed logical enough, but for the life of him, Andrew could not bring himself to move as he heard the younger man's heavy strides up the steps and the crashes as he effectively tore apart the upstairs of the mansion, looking for the files that weren't even in the building.

It wasn't long before Spencer ran into the room, to help Andrew up, and attempt to call 9-1-1 amongst protests from Andrew who didn't know why he was protesting.

The next few hours following, were still a blur to Andrew. He didn't know when Mack had come to the conclusion the files were nowhere in the house, but when he did, his attention focused back on the occupants of the house and a chase followed. He didn't remember what happened to the nearby phone lines, or how the fire down the street had started, or what had happened to his expensive new mustang convertible. The next coherent thoughts that Andrew had, was standing over Mack's body, a chunk of flesh pulled away from his face and top of his head to reveal shiny metal interior, struggling to pull a computer chip out of a slot with a pair of pliers.

A voice, a woman's voice had told him to do it… the metal area on the head appeared to house his "brain" and Andrew had tried everything else to stop him, the missing piece of flesh the only dent on him…

Once his task had been accomplished, he'd flipped Mack onto his side, so the metal wasn't visible, and stared at the computer chip in his hands. He'd never seen anything like it before. It was compact, intricate, and appeared nearly invincible, it was made of a super strong metal, and allowed the robot, "Foster" to mimic human emotions to achieve its' purpose… whatever that was…

This was the future.

The voice told him to destroy it, and he said he would, but suddenly, he didn't want to. Yes, it had tried to rob him, and kill him, but this… thing, was something that no one had been able to achieve yet.

He glanced down. With the metal part hidden, and programming deactivated, the robot's eyes blank and staring at nothing… it looked like a little boy. Lost, no programming to guide it anymore, and so realistically human… he'd have to figure out how to repair its' face though…

Spencer titled his head to the side. "Master Hartford, what are you doing?" His composure had not been shaking, and Andrew felt like laughing at the shredded clothing Spencer was wearing and how calm he sounded.

"I don't think I can destroy this…" Andrew replied softly, looking over at the robot again.

"Would you like me to, sir?" Spencer asked.

"No…" Andrew trailed off. "I… I think I'll reprogram it."

"Master Hartford-" Spencer began in a weary tone, but his mind had been made up and Andrew wasn't going to drop this.

Over the next few years, Andrew Hartford stopped going in to work. He worked at home only, becoming reclusive, allowing a young man named Walker Peterson to control decisions at Hartford Industries. He struggled with the chip for a while, as it could take control of various electronics, but soon he was programming memories, basic tasks, redesigning the skeletal structure to make the robot less indestructible incase of a malfunction. He locked down his strength ability and processing time to make him have more human restrictions and it truly became his child and obsession.

He didn't know what Mack was, or where he came from, and oddly enough, he found himself not caring as much as he should have.

Spencer watched, and worried over what was happening, and when Mackenzie "Hartford" was activated for the first time in his new skin and new body, Spencer had held his breath until Mack took a book off of the shelf and outside to read.

They'd worried about malfunctions, about hits on the head, and about reverting back to original programming if ever something was mentioned about the security project. So Mack was under lock and key, stuck in the mansion for years, and it was better that way, no friends, no real experiences, but no urges to kill anyone.

Yet… now he's real, a human being unable to be rebooted, or placed under his original programming, he won't kill him, or search for files. For the first time in years Andrew allowed himself to relax and teach Mack what he knows and really sleep, and dream. He'd been right, he could reprogram, and fix, and he knew technology was nothing to be afraid of.

So he slept peacefully with his flesh and blood son by his side, and life was good.

He never noticed the woman at Hartford Industries who followed his moves, or following Mack like a hawk the first day he saw him walking down the street. Walker never told him the security project files were stolen and never mentioned the name Sarah Baum, a temp worker who came and went around the same time it happened. And he definitely didn't know how she waited for the day that Andrew Hartford would be found dead in his home.

She shouldn't have trusted him to destroy that technology that night, but she honestly believed he had. It wasn't until this "Operation Overdrive" thing that she realized he hadn't. It was a sloppy mistake on her part, but she'd been worried about her son at the time, and had rushed to meet him somewhere else.

She shook her head, this wouldn't do, Mack had to be destroyed, because to her, Mack was a machine, and would always be a machine, no Sentinel Knight could change that.

To her it was a simple fact; machines don't save the world…

So, I know it genuinely feels like there should be more of a story to this, but this is all I really wanted to write to it. Eighty percent chance there will NOT be more to this though. Maybe in the future, but not now.

I don't own Sarah Conner Chronicles or Power Rangers… duh…

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