"Mom, the kids are at school are talking again."
This sentence, once heard by Doctor Claire Finn of the Orville vessel, sends many figurative alarm bells ringing in the woman's ears. Years of strenuous, single-parenting has prepared her for a situation like this; to witness her child's susceptibility to his fellow peers. And at a vulnerable time like this, where her family had been directly affected by Kaylon attack, she can only imagine the hurtful remarks directed to him from the other children.
She turned around completely in her chair to find him standing behind her, his gaze fixated on the ground. She rested her hand naturally on his shoulder, in her best attempt of consolation. "-Oh, honey. Don't listen to anything they say. They're just trying to find someone to blame."
He shrugged her hand off, much to her dismay. "It was about Isaac. Everyone kept asking me why my dad nearly killed us all. Why he turned against us and...and I don't know, why I didn't stop him?"
A gasp escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. She hastily stood from her chair so she could direct his gaze towards her. "-Marcus Finn, none of what happened is your fault! And don't you let anyone ever tell you otherwise. You hear me?"
He looks into her brown eyes for a long time. She can see the guilt in them, a result of what's been said at school, and no doubt contributed by Isaac's betrayal...Her heart feels heavy as this thought comes into mind. How, at one time, Isaac had been the one to help prove Marcus' innocence when he was wrongly accused...how he had been the one to protect her boys when they were separated, and played games with them when she could not be there for them. And as fast as those thoughts came to her mind, Claire was just as fast to brush them aside.
They're in the past. They don't matter anymore.
Marcus slowly nodded his head to his mother. He knew it wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's but Isaac. Yet, he wanted to blame himself. For getting so attached. For believing that he was more than just a Kaylon - that he could've been their new father, or someone who could finally take care of his mom. He felt stupid and even used, but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. That he could've stopped everything if he hadn't accepted him into their lives. But at his mother's stern stare, he can do nothing but pretend that he understands.
At his silence, Claire feels the need to ask. "...Has this been happening to Ty, too?"
"No. At least, I don't think so. And even if they tried, Ty would just yell at them saying he believes in Isaac and that he saved everyone...the same excuses he's used every time."
"I don't want you to hang around those kids again. They're angry and they want to take it out on anyone who was close with Isaac. But they're not true. Do you understand me?" He gives another nod, more solemnly this time, before dismissing himself to his room.
Burdened with these thoughts again, she approaches her food simulator and orders a drink. She wanted to stop being reminded of anything that had to do with her ex-lover - whether it'd be his name or what had been done. She tried very hard to come to terms with what happened, and with what had been confessed just prior to those events. It haunted her most nights, and the pain worsened during the day when she avoided him at all costs. But the feeling seemed to be mutual, and for some god-damned reason, that was what stung her the most.
She takes a drink of her white wine before setting the glass on the table, taking a good look around her quarters. She stared at the table and the couch in particular, recalling the times where her boys and Isaac played games of bolodon discs and on the couch where the news of their relationship had been made known to her sons. As strange as it is to confess, it feels empty without his lingering presence somewhere about the room - constantly scanning and observing the scenes at hand. He seemed as nothing more than a lamppost at times, but then he would come back to life just to leave the room again after gathering everything he needed.
That was all he ever did.
Her hand comes to grasp the handle of the glass, bringing the lid to her lips without second thought. As she gulps it down, she has a very vivid memory of her intimate times together with Isaac. Their times in the simulator, where his human semblance stared at her from above or below, his eyes piercing her own as his hands traveled along her hips and her breasts...his movements so unusually fluid, fingers itching to touch her in the right places. His voice evocatively played in her mind as she had heard it back then - asking her if she was in pain every time she moaned. How she loved the way he changed things, making each experience different than the last...
She shouldn't be thinking of this. Not after what happened. Not when she's supposed to be forgiving him, instead of remembering him.
She brought the glass back to her mouth, only to find it's empty. With a jaded sigh, she left the empty glass on the counter and walked over to her window, rubbing the sides of her hair as she gazed into the endless space. But then she heard Isaac's voice again in her mind, when he noticed she had done something new with her hair. Him being the only person on ship to notice the change - so subliminal, yet so noteworthy in his perspective - that it evoked her feelings for him. The time that started everything.
It was painful. Very painful to relive these memories every day and every night. To push them down every time she had to get her kids ready to school, or to stay silent about them during their meals. For someone who has worked in the medical field for as long as she's known, Claire was dealing with an intense pain she didn't quite know how to numb - heartbreak. And on top of that, she had to consider doing something more difficult that even she was unsure she could do: forgive.
She rubbed her temples, wanting to ease her mind from all this, until she heard the familiar sound of her doorbell. She picked herself up from the wall to approach the door, resting her hand on the side of the frame as she cleared her throat. She wanted no indication she had been drinking. For the small implication that something was wrong - because there was nothing wrong. Everything is fine. She had no reason to be drowning her thoughts and sorrows into wine - her career came first; surely not the mourning of what had been a hopeless relationship from the start...
She slides the door open, and when she finds two blue orbs staring back at her, Claire regrets ever answering it at all.
"Hello, Doctor."
The audacity. Does he really think he can show up on her doorstep after all these weeks? Weeks of being ignored and dismissed after he put all of their lives on the line? After he lied and got people killed? And started the Kaylon's goal of genocide?
It makes no sense to her. He had no reason to be here. That was why they haven't interacted for so long. There just wasn't a need for it. He gathered all the information for Kaylon - how worthwhile would she be? Their relationship, their intercourse...it meant nothing if he couldn't get something out of it. But Isaac did everything for a reason. He had intent behind most things, so she's curious to know what led him back here. At such a random time, too.
She still makes her anger very apparent in her voice. "What do you want, Isaac?"
"I am here to make an inquiry in accordance to recent recollections of past events that have not been entirely established."
She blinks a few times, trying to make sense of his words. So he's here to ask something. Is that it? "-What? You mean you want to talk?"
"That would be most appropriate, Doctor."
She decided that a "talk" may not be appropriate for her children to hear, so she takes a step out and closes the door behind her. The robot took a respected step back, giving her enough space to lean against the wall and stare daggers at him. Deep down, however, she wished she didn't feel so happy to see him - to hear his voice and be in his presence again. Just when he was becoming nothing more than a memory to her, he comes and shows up again...But what right does he owe to still be involved in her life?
"Well?" She motioned to him with her head. "What is it you wanted to...talk about?"
"I am here to ask you if Ty ever delivered my message of an apology."
Oh, she remembers. Remembers it all too well. How, the night after the Kaylon attack, after finally restoring peace within the ship, that Ty told her Isaac was sorry. "Sorry" for using her as a lab rat, and "sorry" for putting the whole ship at stake after helping the Kaylon decide that they were not worth preserving. "Sorry" for single-handedly getting her family to care about him, only to be treated as if they were nothing.
"He did tell me. But it made me wonder just why you even bothered." She seethed. "As far as I'm concerned, an apology means you feel regretful for what you did. And how can you do that when you don't even feel sympathy?"
"-A very humane observation." He commented, tilting his head back as he continued. "I once believed it was not within my programming to feel sympathy. However, after Primary rendered me defective for implying I had felt such organic thoughts, I am to believe that an apology was suitable."
"So, you're telling me that you believe you actually felt sympathy?"
"Affirmative."
This information, regrettably, takes her off-guard, but it doesn't distract her from the situation at hand. "Just what were you sorry for, anyway? For lying to the crew, to Ty and Marcus, and to me? For using us as your guinea pigs for your decision of extermination? How could you even say you're sorry for all of that?"
"According to my database, being 'sorry' is what I related to most before deactivating all Kaylon. It was never my intention to hurt you or put your life at risk, Doctor. While I was informed of the intentions of my mission, I could not relate to the Kaylon's initiative of extermination."
She doesn't believe a word he says, but she doesn't want to argue about them. She takes herself off the wall completely to point an accusing finger at him. "Just what made you change your mind, then? You were fine with letting them lead us to our own death, but somewhere you just decided, after all those people had been killed, to stop them. Tell me, Isaac...what made you feel pity?"
There is a moment of silence where neither of them say anything. Just when Claire was ready to give up entirely and head back into her quarters, Isaac's voice replied, "I could not allow them to harm Ty."
"What?"
"After it was discovered that Ty assisted with the attempt of outside communication, I was summoned by Primary and ordered to exterminate him." He dips his head back, a sign she recognized as an address of some sorts. "-I could not."
Her vexation was momentarily replaced with curiosity. She hadn't heard this side of the story before. Except the times where Ty insisted that Isaac saved everyone aboard the ship, but she refused to accept that. Not when he endangered them in the first place. But hearing that he had protected her son, even after she expressed her disbelief for such hours prior to that...well, she must have misplaced blame somewhere.
"You didn't want to kill Ty? Because you felt...pity?"
"Your observation is accurate, but that is not the only contribution. I have grown quite fond of your children over the course of our interactions. Ty has shown exceptional intellectual capability, and we, as your people may put it, 'bonded'."
She felt the tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes, but she did not want to let them fall. To not let him know that she was deeply affected by what he just said - how she had been waiting, for ages now, to hear him reaffirm his feelings for her kids. She took a quick moment to wipe them away with her sleeve, and cleared her throat.
"Isaac...why don't we discuss this more by taking a walk?"
"If that is what you wish, Doctor."
With relief, she turned and began their walk together down the corridors. Isaac joined her side, keeping a respected distance between them. She wondered if he had taken her physical cues after all. She decided to muse over his words during this silence, a discreet smile finding its way onto her face. Once she fully felt it was there, however, she replaced it with a more forbidding one.
She decided to stop nearby one of the windows, where the two of them could gaze into space. It was farther from her own quarters and from the rest of the crew that were still active at these hours. She was tempted to lead him into a private simulation, but she didn't want to be reminded of their previous times in there. She wanted a moment of solitude with him as to get the answers she has been itching for all along. This spot seemed perfect...even reminding her of the time she found him alone facing the outside, attempting to get a picture of his home planet.
She brings her gaze to him, finding that he has his attention on the stars. Thinking about god-knows-what. There was once a time where she'd have been tempted to ask about it, to want his input on the world and what could be going on in that metallic head of his. But there were more things troubling her at that moment. She couldn't be bothered with just himself anymore - she just wanted clarification of it all. So she didn't have to wander in the dark anymore - avoid him just because she felt she had to. So they didn't evolve into nothing more than strangers.
"Did you ever get that picture of your planet?" She asked.
"That is correct. It is now kept in my files as one of the millions of visual representations of the Kaylon 1 planet."
"-But not your home?"
He finally turns to face her. She felt a little more relaxed knowing she has his attention. "I do not have a home anymore. You are knowledgeable of this fact."
"Well, yes, but..." She pinched her lips together. "What would you say is the closest to one? Or, for better words...what's the first thing that pops into your mind when you hear the word 'home'?"
He brings his head down for a moment, and in that second, she can hear the digital sounds of his processing. Once it's complete, he raises it back upwards and keeps himself faced towards the window. "-My algorithms have resulted to an error message at the term, thus confirming that I do not have one."
"Think realistically. Not with your programming. What's the closest you have to a place where everyone supports you, and where you return to after everything happens? Like your 'default'? What is that to you, Isaac?"
"My practical reasoning would conclude that such a place would be the Orville."
She fights a smile. Finally.
"-But I do not believe that result is accurate."
Her posture deflated at his words. She turned to him to show the impatient look on her features. He can be very difficult at times - sometimes conversing with Isaac was like slamming your head repeatedly into a wall. She doesn't know if he can sense her irritability, but she gets the last question in solely to confirm that he hasn't progressed at all. That he hasn't thought about what she said to him - how he insists his home is nonexistent when everyone who loves him is in front of him.
"Then what would you say is 'accurate'? That you don't have one at all?"
He stared at her, unmoved for a moment, before animating himself with his hands. "I have been thinking more of these 'human clichés', and your reasoning behind them. To follow such crude processing would result in a virtual image I have stored in my files, to which, from an organic emotional standpoint, is more accurate."
"Really? What is that image?"
A familiar voice responds to her; the voice of her youngest son. "That's me and Marcus, and you and mom. So you remember us."
Her heart feels as if it's spinning in her chest. She was forced to gulp rather hardly, trying to take in the memory of when Ty handed Isaac the drawing he made just before his 'farewell' party, when they once believed he'd be staying on his planet. She thought, as well as her sons, that he had forgotten about it when he left it on the floor, but as it turns out, he had...photographed it. If only Ty had known that - then he wouldn't have resorted to sitting up in that tree, refusing to go to school.
But just as wonderful as that thought is, it brings up even more questions. Ones she didn't want to ask in fear of having to face the truth. But after knowing this...how he considered her family as his 'home'(in his special, mechanical way of thinking), she wants nothing more than the upmost truth so she doesn't have to keep guessing. To keep assuming that his care for them no longer existed, and she can finally have an answer for her boys every time they asked her if Isaac really meant everything.
"Isaac, can you promise to me that...your answer to my next question...will it be the truth?"
"I will do my best, Doctor."
"Could you still hear things when you were deactivated? Was any part of you sentient after that, or were you just completely...unconscious?"
"My deactivation successfully ended all of my active programming and, in your words, sentient attributes. I could only keep track of the duration of time since my deactivation."
She sighed and muttered under her breath. "So you weren't awake."
He doesn't hear her and leans forwards a little. "Was there something significant that I could not hear?"
She thinks about telling him. Telling him how Ty took the time to talk to him while he wasn't there...how she confessed her love to him when it was too late. Their most meaningful words they've always wanted to say to him...resulted only to the time when he couldn't hear them. What would he make of it? That typical 'I am unable to share your feelings'? A lack of understanding for its purpose? She knows that those responses are facts to him, but it was like stabbing a dagger through all of their hearts just hearing it.
Finally, she shook her head. "No. I don't believe you did. I just...wanted to know."
"I have answered your question honestly. Is there anything else you would like to ask me?"
She let her arms drop to her sides. "Why did you even come to my door? What was the point on asking me if Ty told me you were sorry? That happened weeks ago, and you've been avoiding me like the plague every day until now."
"I can assure you, Dr. Finn, our lack of interaction was nothing personal. To my understanding, when a human female is angered, it is wise to give them a considerable amount of distance until it is known for certain that they are willing to converse again. I was unsure when this would occur."
"Then why did you ask me if I ever got your apology?"
He bowed his head a little low. "I have come to believe that I have a better understanding of the 'forgiving' process. In order to end a once resentful outlook on one's actions, the other must first make it clear that they have apologized for them. Otherwise, the forgiving process would only be superficial."
Claire finally allowed herself to smile. After all this time of not being around him, it seemed like he really had changed. It still rang true that she never knew who he was. After what he did to everybody, no one really felt that way. The man she fell in love with was someone who made an impact on her family's life and cared about her in ways no one else did. And that part still remained inside him, she knew of it now. But the rest of him required change if they were to pick up from where they left off.
Would he even want that?
"I believe you're right, Isaac. Forgiveness is deserved only after one has acknowledged that what they did was wrong and hurtful. What you did might be unforgivable, but I know you can see that. And I believe you can redeem yourself. To me, and to everyone else."
"That would be most desired. I am thankful you have given me this chance, Dr. Finn, and I hope I can achieve your forgiveness soon."
"Well, it takes time, and lots of patience and understanding. I know you have no problem with waiting, but...in the meantime, why don't we talk more about it? It can't progress without communication."
"Highly noted. I wish nothing more than to continue this process appropriately. Will there be any future negotiations to resume our relationship?"
She hoped he would ask. With a slight nod of the head and a slightly-growing smile, she replied, "We'll see."