image taken from: devilish–designs on deviantart.

i don't know why i keep writing so many jelsa oneshots just asdfghjkl plot bunnies seriously just keeping popping up.

but whee first jelsa sci-fi lol.

inspired by: a little bit from the movie blade runner and like every other robot dystopian story out there.

notes: jack is twenty-four. all dictionary definitions taken from apple's dictionary app.

warning: coarse language and ooc elsa haha oops.

dedicated to: the writer lavenian, for putting your all into your writing, and anyone else who thinks their writing is crap(?), but will still continue to write because improvement is a steady, gradual process, and really, you're your own worst critic so your writing is probably not as shit as you believe.

also for madin456, for pirulina, for legendaryfangirl, for huaiyin, for maggilefay, for manh, for antelucem and for dumbastheycome, for your support in like almost all my jelsa stories. damn, just let me hug you guys (and i'm hoping you guys actually see this fic trololol it'll probs get lost in the flood of new jelsa fics that appear every five minutes).

dumbastheycome is it bad that i'm actually sort of worried about dedicating this fic to you, because idk if it's your type of thing and i'm well aware of your critical skills (i cower before them in every THTM update lol). FORGIVE ME IF YOU HATE IT I JUST WANTED TO SHOW MY APPRECIATION.

part one: hot chocolate, and the meaning of life

Welcome to the year 4067. In this day and age, it's a world of perfection; humans live easily to one hundred and fifty, and robots of all kinds walk the streets.

Welcome to the year 4067. In this day and age, humans hide in dead cities and among skyscrapers that reach towards a nonexistent sky.

Welcome to the year 4067. In this day and age, there are whispers of a revolution, of a war against the Government, of people versus robots, of humanity versus machines.

Welcome to the year 4067. We hope you have a great time.

Moonlight leaks in through the window, liquid silver and pearl splashing the room in dim light. It illuminates many things: a table clattering with metal tools, a floor messy with bloody clothes, and a man sleeping on the bed.

There is a single beep, as loud as a gunshot in the quiet night, that cracks through the silence. Immediately, the man's eyes fly open, and they are a curious shade of bottomless blue. He rolls off the bed and onto his feet and scrabbles for the phone with desperate, slave fingers.

"Hello?" His voice is sandpaper.

"Jack, get out. Get out now. The Sentinels are coming; they've found you. You have to run!"

He's a blur of motion, reaching for an emergency backpack placed at the foot of his bed. There's a stack of papers haphazardly dumped on the chair, and with a quick click of a lighter, he sets it on fire without hesitation. The Sentinels will be here soon, and they can take care of the mess.

Wrenching open the door, he's out on the streets in less than five minutes after the call, walking almost lazily towards the bright lights, and he blends in easily into the shadows.

Within a few seconds, there's no trace that he was ever there at all.

Rain is a mask, and Jack uses it to his advantage as he makes his way through the streets. Contrary to where he was hiding out, the city is alive, no matter the hour, because, quite honestly, there's no real sense of time in this world. The sky is a perpetual grey of storm clouds and smog, and when the sun comes out in a feeble show of light, it hangs like a watery imitation of an orange for only a few hours, and then it's pushed out again. Sometimes, Jack thinks that one day the sun won't show up at all, and no one will ever notice.

It's darker here, though, in downtown New York City, even with the pathetic sun. The flashing advertisements and sweeping searchlights don't penetrate these streets, brimming with beggars and drug dealers and lost souls. There's always an uneasy air, a sort of unmentionable certainty that you could very easily bleed to death right in the middle of the road, and people will still skirt around you and perhaps step on your fingers or trip over your body, but not one of them will call for help. Because that's what humanity has come to, and it's the saddest thing of this century.

With his coat soaked through and his bag dripping with excess water, Jack stands in front of a mechanic shop that doubles as a house. TOOTHIANA'S REPAIR is printed on the smoky glass, letters peeling like the skin of a mandarin. He pushes open the door, and it glides forward smoothly on oiled hinges. A small tinkle sounds, and Jack drops his bag to the ground, creating his own miniature pool. Behind him, lightning tears across the sky, ripping it open in a jagged bar of bright, blinding power. In the seconds after it fades, there is total darkness as the city's electrical system struggles to counter the surge. And when the lights flicker on, a figure appears in front of Jack, movements camouflaged by the sounds outside.

"Tooth," Jack sighs out, and his breath is an arctic gust of wind.

The woman in front of him has her dark purple lips pressed tightly together. Everything about her is colourful, and she stands out like a sore thumb whenever she ventures to the streets. Everyone has an understanding that vivid colours, while not necessarily outlawed, are somewhat taboo, and they dress in darker shades to keep from gaining attention. Obviously, this has been lost on Toothiana.

"Did the Sentinels see you?" Toothiana asks. She stands only up to about his shoulder, but she radiates a seniority that Jack finds he can't oppose to. It seems only natural that he takes orders from her.

"No, I left before they arrived," Jack says, and he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the wet tendrils from his face. "Bunny gave me a good warning. I burned the documents too, so no need to worry."

"Good, good," Toothiana murmurs, and she slumps as if a slab of concrete has been pressed onto her shoulders. "Come on up, Jack. I only have one spare room, and there's already someone here. You'll have to share."

Toothiana flips the closed sign on the door and takes to the steps behind the counter, Jack following closely behind. He casts one eye at the display glass, making sure no one is watching, and only sees dark silhouettes passing through the rain.

"Who's here?" Jack asks at the landing. Toothiana pauses, and her small frame grows rigid.

"Jack," Toothiana says, turning to face him. There's something odd about her voice. "You have to understand."

Her face is blank, smooth, but Jack can hear a tremor in her voice. He tenses, mentally prepares himself for whatever bombshell is going to be dropped.

"I have a Xen," Toothiana says calmly, "in my spare room."

For a second, Jack sees red. "What?" he hisses. "Toothiana, what the fuck–?"

"I need it–her," Toothiana continues, "I need to study her. It could help against the war. Jack, please, you have to understand–"

"A Xen is an enemy, Tooth," Jack snarls. "They're the whole reason we're fighting. They're the Government's toys. Oh, fuck the heavens, Toothiana, it's probably reporting everything you're doing straight back to its boss!"

"She's not–"

"Oh, so it's a she now–"

"–I've made sure of it. Come on, Jack. You know this works in our favour. I'm the best mechanic around. If anyone's got a chance to hack into a Government system via one of their robots, it's me. Trust me on this, Jack."

The two stand off against each other, and Jack searches his friend's eyes, to look for any sign of betrayal or mistrust. He finds none, only the confidence that Toothiana is doing what she thinks is right.

"Does North know about this?" Jack asks through gritted teeth.

"Of course he does," Toothiana says. "Everyone knows, except for you, because we knew you'd react like this."

"Fine," Jack says flatly after a moment. "But I'm not sharing a room with it."

"You have to, otherwise you're sleeping in the living room," Toothiana shrugs. "The robot was here first, and she gets the room."

Upon seeing the look on his face, Toothiana adds in a low murmur, "Jack. You've heard the rumours, haven't you? We're finding out that some robots are actually capable of–"

"No, Tooth," Jack interrupts. There's an old fire in his eyes. "They don't feel anything at all."

Toothiana sighs, because she knows there will be no getting through to him, at least tonight. "Whatever. Just go to your room, or stay out here, I don't really care. I need to take care of my shop."

She leaves him on the staircase landing, and for a long time, Jack is a statue with ice running through his veins and lungs that breathe hot, burning wisps of rage. He moves after an eternity, and he dumps his bag on the couch with a muttered curse, steering well clear of the door to the left.

Jack is part of a resistance group, called 'terrorists' by the Government, 'freedom fighters' by their supporters, and 'dumb fuckwits who mess shit up' by everyone else. The Government's power stems from their league of artificial intelligence, the latest generation being called Xens. Xens look like humans, talk and breathe and move like humans, and they are supposed to be human, and they succeed in that factor on every level, save for the mechanical glow behind their eyes and their inability to feel emotions.

The Government is corrupt, and Xens are used as their watchdogs, acting as their eyes and ears where people don't even have a voice or the ability to be heard anymore. It's a dreary future, everything held behind a line, and people are executed on the spot for any traitorous words uttered, and this so-called world of perfection is nothing more than prim, sparkly words to keep the façade up, the killings a method of keeping the public at bay.

But with the growing number of people secretly joining in the Resistance, unease stirs like a rock dropped into a still pond, especially in downtown New York City. Xens are increasing in number; each batch released is a better, upgraded version of the last.

But robots are robots are robots, and no matter how closely they are modeled to resemble humans, can never match the strength of human will. So despite the advantage a robot might have one on one with a person, a group of hard-working, determined humans is a completely different matter.

Jack wakes up to the sound of light footsteps and the smell of brewing coffee gentle on his palate. He opens his eyes to drawn blinds and closed windows, and he flips to his feet in a panic.

"It's okay, Jack," Toothiana says from her place in the kitchen. "Elsa wanted to walk around, so I've closed everything up."

"Elsa?" he croaks out dumbly. He looks around blearily, rubbing his eyes, and then his joints stiffen when he catches sight of 'Elsa'.

Standing in front of him with her head cocked, Elsa is a young woman with light blonde hair so pale it's white. Her face is small, round, with red lips and a button nose. She's slender, with a graceful neck, and, if put against each him, would only reach up to his shoulder.

She's also missing her left hand, and sticking out of the stump is a tangle of wires and metal parts.

"Fuck," Jack curses when he jerks back, and his head slams against the wall.

"Hello," the robot says unsurely, giving no reaction to his pain. "My name is Elsa."

Jack can never get used to how human Xens act. Elsa is nervous, shy, and she even has a slight blush rising from her cheeks.

He doesn't answer her; instead, his head swivels to Toothiana, who's watching the exchange carefully.

"Elsa, this is Jack," Toothiana says. "He's going to be your new friend."

"I–wait, what?" Jack says, bewildered.

"Really?" Elsa asks. A small smile curves at her lips, and her face illuminates like a beacon. "That would be nice. I will make you happy, Mr Jack. Miss Toothiana tells me that friends make each other happy."

"Tooth," Jack says, and his voice is trembling, "a word in private, please."

The woman sighs and sets down her cup of coffee. "Stay here, Elsa, and don't do anything until I come back, okay? I'm just going to talk to your new friend for a second."

Pulling him harshly into her bedroom, Toothiana crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow for the onslaught that is about to come.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jack snaps. "I'm not here to be a babysitter, Tooth, and hell if I'm gonna befriend a Xen."

"Well, you're going to have to, because I'm on the cusp of something huge here and I need your help," Toothiana retorts.

"No fucking way," Jack says, "no. Find some other guinea pig to die when that robot regains her senses and goes on a murdering spree."

"Jack," Toothiana says steadily. "You're missing the point here. Elsa is a Xen, but there's something different about her. She's defective. I found her wandering the streets three nights ago, and it's like she's been in a fight or something. There's something missing from her system, a chip or something, or–I don't know–her program's been rewritten, but she's not like your usual Xen. Fuck, she doesn't even have a memory chip, so everything before she came to me is a blank. If I can figure out what's happened to her, I can rewrite the codes for all Xens, and it'll be a damn lot more useful than a bunch of you idiots going out to exterminate them and returning with only one alive!"

"But why the fuck do I have to be friends with her?" Jack hisses. "You know how I feel about them."

"I know," Toothiana says tiredly. "But there's no one left I can trust, Jack. North won't be easy to find, and Bunny's trying to round up more followers. Everyone else is a liability, and I don't trust them. Having a Government Xen is punishable by death. I need you to treat her as if you would a normal human, because I need to monitor her actions and I can't do that because I have a shop to run and I need to act as if everything's normal. Please, Jack."

Toothiana is begging him, and she never begs. And they both know that he's agreed even before he opens his mouth.

"Elsa," Jack says, "what the fuck are you doing?"

"I've never seen rain before," Elsa says in soft wonder. She sits under the window, facing the glass, huge eyes trailing raindrops as they chase themselves down and disappear. "It's so beautiful."

Jack blinks. "You know what beautiful means?"

"As an adjective, it means pleasing to the senses or mind aesthetically," Elsa says somewhat proudly. Her leg twitches under her ("She's physically defective as well," Toothiana had said. "She probably won't have long until she breaks down completely."). "Miss Toothiana installed a dictionary for me!"

"Right," Jack says slowly. "So… rain is… aesthetically pleasing to you?"

Elsa thinks for a moment, and then she nods. "At least, I'm hoping my version of beautiful is the same as everyone else's," she says as an afterthought.

Curling his lip, Jack turns away. "Well, Elsa, if you were a real human, you'd know that the definition of beautiful is different for everyone. But you're a robot, so I guess you wouldn't know."

He leaves Elsa sitting under the window, watching the rain, and ignores the brief look of hurt that flashes in her eyes.

"It's not real, Jack," he mutters to himself. "Every emotion it shows is programmed. It's not real."

A week after his forced friendship with Elsa, Toothiana tells him to take her out.

"Are you crazy, Tooth," Jack says in disbelief, "they'll recognise her and I'll get killed and holy fuck, this is the stupidest idea you have thought of so far, and that's saying a lot."

Toothiana just barely refrains herself from rolling her eyes. "Don't be an ass, you idiot. I've tinkered with her program, and other Xens won't see her as one of their own, but another low-quality companion robot."

Dubious, Jack glares at her. "Are you fucking sure?"

"Yes, fuck the heavens," Toothiana says, and she throws his coat in his face. "Now hurry up, I need to see if she'll like going outside, because that's gonna affect some of my calculations depending on her response."

Elsa, it turns out, is absolutely ecstatic.

"Is that a dog?" she gasps, waving her newly attached left hand, courtesy of Toothiana. "Look, Mr Jack–"

"Please don't call me Mr Jack–"

"–it's a tree! And it's actually green! Miss Toothiana gave me a new encyclopedic program yesterday and I learned that trees are rare and they barely grow in city areas so isn't it amazing that there's a tree right here in front of us–?"

"Elsa," Jack groans, stopping the robot in her excited tirade. "Listen, you have to calm down, okay? Or I'll take you back to Tooth's and I'll leave you there and go around by myself."

Elsa whimpers (Jack wonders, what the actual fuck where did she learn to whimper?) and nods sadly. "Okay, I promise I'll behave," Elsa says. "Just don't take me back until we see everything."

Biting his lips to prevent himself from blurting out are you like five years old or something, Jack just grunts and pulls her along. He keeps a tight hold on her, because Elsa has a habit of wandering off in the opposite direction because something shiny has caught her eye or she can smell roasted chestnuts or she's going after a trail of leaves as they float down towards the drain.

"Okay," Jack says, "this is hot chocolate. Which means it's hot, understand? I'm pretty certain you're compatible with hot stuff, but I'm not actually sure because Tooth says your system is fucked up."

"I can drink hot things," Elsa chirps, staring at the mug in front of her. They sit in a tiny coffee shop, and it's gross and dark, and the tables are sticky when touched, but Jack honestly couldn't find any place better and Elsa was eager to try this mysterious 'hot chocolate'.

She takes a sip, pauses, and Jack watches her eyes curve into little crescent moons as she smiles and hums in delight. But then she looks down, and he can see the artificial light gleaming behind her pupils, and disgust coils in his stomach like a snake.

"It tastes nice in my mouth," Elsa explains when she catches Jack staring. "I can't taste it, but the heat is comfortable. What's it supposed to taste like?"

"Sweet," Jack says stonily. Elsa doesn't question his sudden change in mood.

"Sweet, like sugar," Elsa says thoughtfully. "So… it's not salty or bitter."

She gives him a half-smile and fidgets with her fingers, and the act is so human that Jack finds himself snapping, "Stop that."

Elsa cowers before his glare, and Jack forces himself to relax. He doesn't apologise, though. Timidly, Elsa keeps drinking her hot chocolate while Jack stares out the window and tries to think of something other than the robot in front of him.

"May I ask you a question?" Elsa asks softly. When Jack doesn't answer, she powers on. "Um, do you ever wonder why you're born?"

Jack is so surprised by the question that he forgets all his previous anger. "What?"

The robot squirms under his scrutiny. "Well, sometimes I wonder why I was made. So, um, as a human, do you ever wonder why you're born?"

"Everyone wonders that, at some point in their life," Jack responds. "But there's no real answer to that, so I wouldn't worry about it too much. You'll probably short-circuit your brain or something if you think about it too deeply."

Elsa is quiet, and she idly stirs her hot chocolate with a fork, because Jack hadn't been bothered to tell her that she was supposed to use a spoon. "I don't remember anything from before Miss Toothiana took me in. She says I'm missing something in me, and I wonder what kind of robot I was before all this–oh!"

The mug overturns, dark liquid spilling across the table like cancer. Elsa's fingers had glitched, spasming so that she'd tipped her drink over in an uncontrolled move.

"It's just a system defect," Jack says, as Elsa stares in horror at the mess she had made. Neither makes a move to clean it up.

"I'm not going to live for very long," Elsa mumbles, staring at her fingers, and sadness is a chain ball that drags from her voice, and the emotion in her words causes an uncharacteristic streak of cruelty to rise in Jack. (Because deep down, he's afraid. He's afraid that Elsa is becoming more and more human, and he's afraid that his feelings will change.)

"What you're feeling," Jack says, voice even, because then everything is all the more painful, "is not real. It's all programmed. It doesn't matter that you're not going to live for very long, because you're not even alive in the first place. You're just a bunch of metal parts glued together, Elsa, and by the intelligence of the human race, you've been given you feelings and senses that aren't even feelings or senses, because you don't know what anything is. You don't know what fear is, or love. You don't know what fucking hot chocolate tastes like, or how it feels to be pressed up against the warmth of another person. You're a robot, Elsa, and robots don't feel."

He stands abruptly from the table and throws down the money, and then he stalks out into the drizzling rain, leaving Elsa behind.

part two: the definition of 'beautiful'

"Tell me that again," Toothiana growls, "I fucking dare you."

"I left her in a coffee shop by herself," Jack deadpans. "I don't know where she is. Hopefully she's still there."

Toothiana is tiny, but at this moment, she's actually shaking with so much fury, it's a wonder she hasn't exploded yet.

"You. fucking. ASSHOLE!" Toothiana shrieks. "You go out there and bring her back right now! You dumb fuckhead, what the hell were you thinking?" Her voice lowers to an enraged whisper. "If she's caught without her owner and she gets taken into questioning, she's going to fucking spill her guts because I haven't programmed secrecy into her, and we'll all be exposed because of your stupid temper and the Resistance can't fucking afford to lose any more members because we're dying off too quickly as it is! So go and bring her back, or I'll cut off your dick with my wrench."

It's with this threat that Jack grudgingly heads out into the cold rain again against his better judgment, because he would rather keep his dick intact, thank you very much. He backtracks their route, tracing all the way to the coffee shop.

To his surprise, Elsa is in the exact same spot he'd left her, forty-five minutes ago. The coffee spill has been cleaned up though, and there's a glass of water in front of her. Her back is straight, like a plank of wood, and her blonde hair tumbles down with a knot in the middle because Elsa had attempted to braid her hair earlier that morning and failed miserably.

"Hey," Jack says gently, nudging her shoulder. There's no answer. "Oi, Elsa."

With a harder shove, Elsa sways. And then she continues tipping forward until her face meets the table, knocking the glass of water over.

"Shit!"

Jack grabs her up, and the telltale gleam behind her eyes is gone (he has never noticed just how blue her eyes are). Her system has glitched, and she's shut down in an effort to save her data.

Cursing, Jack lifts her up and sprints out. The coffee shop patrons don't bat an eye, because things like this happen every day, in every street corner or mechanic shop; it's an ordinary occurrence.

When Jack shows up with Elsa carefully tucked in his arms, gasping for breath and muscles screaming from exertion, Toothiana immediately directs him to the back of her shop and draws the curtains. She throws Jack out, with an order to keep all customers away and to let no one in.

Four hours pass, and Toothiana finally emerges with a chipper Elsa in tow. Jack is leaning against the counter, and he hasn't moved from his spot since she started.

"I'm all better now," Elsa smiles as Toothiana twists the last screw on her shoulder properly into place. "Miss Toothiana repaired me really well."

Toothiana rasps something about getting coffee and drags herself upstairs, leaving the two of them alone.

"Elsa," Jack begins. "I'm sorry. What I said in the coffee shop was wrong of me. I'm sorry."

He's had four hours to think, and he realises that it doesn't matter that Elsa is a robot. There's a possibility that Toothiana is right, that the rumours are true and that robots can actually develop their own emotions. And while he still doesn't trust Elsa completely, he has enough pride to know when he's wrong.

The beam Elsa flashes him is so happy that Jack can no longer believe it to be programmed. "It's okay," Elsa says cheerfully, "I understand."

"Friends?" Jack asks, stretching out his hand.

"Friends," Elsa agrees, and Jack has to explain to her what a handshake is before Elsa enthusiastically grabs his fingers and almost shakes it off. She feels just like a human, soft and warm and pliant. When they let go, the lights in Elsa's eye flicker for a few seconds, though the robot doesn't notice, and Jack swallows down the realisation that Elsa truly has no time left.

("Maybe two months, or three, at most," Toothiana says quietly. "Her system is fried, and I can't replace it because she's a Xen, and they're so much more advanced than your average robot and her parts are way too different to what I'm used to. I suggest you just make her remaining time as enjoyable as possible.")

Jack gets called out on Resistance work once or two times a week, sometimes to exterminate Xens, other times to hijack carriages filled with money that's going from New York City to another district. The expeditions become more and more dangerous, as the Government tightens its hold on the city and Resistance members are getting caught left, right and centre.

Toothiana, while not an active member, keeps her shop open as a sort of safe house, and any captured robots that might have information go directly to her. The weeks drag on, and the situation steadily becomes more and more desperate.

"I understand what surprise means," Elsa tells Jack gleefully one day. They sit in the living room, playing a game of chess because Elsa had insisted. "It's an unexpected or astonishing event. Today, a bowl smashed because I dropped it, and I was really surprised."

"Good job," Jack says, giving her a tiny smile. Elsa preens at the compliment.

He's becoming more and more open to Elsa now, responsive to her questions and always a sidekick to her wild, inquisitive nature. And, he discovers, she's an avid fan of chocolate.

"It feels funny in my mouth," Elsa tells him. "Like… chewing on crayons!"

His face wrinkles at the comparison, but Elsa's resulting laugh sends his heart jolting in an unsteady fugue, because he never expected it to be so nice to listen to.

A month later, on a night that howls with violent winds and rain that sounds like logs falling onto the roof, Jack awakens to the feel of a much smaller body wriggling into his bed.

"Elsa?" he groans, sleep twisting his senses.

"Can I sleep with you?" she asks, face buried into his chest. "The thunder is loud."

She doesn't wait for his consent, but snuggles into his side and goes into sleep mode. Jack is frozen, wide awake now, because there's a Xen in his bed and he doesn't know what to do. It takes ten minutes of mental anguish for him to finally just relax, and he hesitantly wraps an arm around her shoulders. Elsa is warm, fitting perfectly against his body, and her hair smells like flowers. She loves taking showers and using scented soap, because she claims that it feels like she's standing in the middle of rain.

After that night, Elsa manages to coax her way into sleeping with him at every opportunity. It takes a while, but Jack finds out after a little bit that he doesn't really mind anymore.

"My smell receptors like you," she announces, much to Jack's mortification and Tooth's amusement. "And," she adds, more quietly, "I like the sound of your heartbeat."

"You do?" Jack says blankly.

"It sounds nice," Elsa admits, "steady and strong. It sounds very beautiful." She smiles widely. "I think I know what beautiful means, now."

The Jack of pre-Elsa would never allowed a robot into his bed, because the Jack of pre-Elsa believed that all Xens were mindless killing machines. But the Jack of post-Elsa is different. The Jack of post-Elsa sees, and he can no longer hide it.

Jack realises that, perhaps, somewhere along the line, he's fallen for Elsa, a robot, something that he had once vowed to never do. He's fallen for a robot that isn't sure what beautiful means, that's enchanted by raindrops and trees, a robot that likes eating anything she can get her hands on, because each morsel is a different texture in her mouth. He's fallen in love with her, and he can't bring himself to regret it.

But he's fallen in love with her far too late. Elsa doesn't have much time left, and nowadays she has difficulty walking because her legs keep twitching. The lights in her eyes splutter and die away, even for minutes at a time. Sometimes, in the middle of talking, her voice box would creak and whine and fade off. Elsa is breaking down, because nothing is meant to last forever.

"What do you do for a living, Jack?" Elsa asks. Her voice sounds like the rattle of tin cans, and her eyes are dull pools of murky blue. "Toothiana is a mechanic, so what do you do?"

Jack hesitates, and he sees Toothiana cast him a wary glance.

"I fight for freedom," Jack says finally. Elsa is dying, and he doesn't want to lie to her. "I fight to free this city from the Government, because it deserves so much better."

"Ah, the Resistance," Elsa nods, and the movement is jerky. "I want to join." An old light flares up, and she smiles crookedly in exhausted interest. "It would be nice to fight for something you believe in. I read that in a book."

"Well, you'll have to talk to our leader for that," Jack says good-naturedly. She's dying, and he's humouring her.

"Who's your leader? I'll go speak to him myself," Elsa says, and for a second, she sounds exactly like she used to, and Jack feels a sudden urge to cry. It's not fair, because he's the human, and he feels the pain. He will be the one left behind when Elsa breaks down, he'll be the one nursing the heartbreak.

"Our leader? North?" Jack chuckles. "It'll be hard to find him, though. He usually in the south end of the city. Not many people go there."

Pouting, Elsa says, "I'll find him. Toothiana can program a tracking code into me."

Toothiana laughs lowly and she says, with a small break in her voice, "Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you."

One day, when the sun shows itself for the first time in a week, Sentinels come crashing through TOOTHIANA'S REPAIR with their stun guns at the ready and their armour gleaming in the hazy light.

They arrest Toothiana at the back of the shop, where she shouts at Jack to run! Fucking run and don't be a hero, Jack!

But Jack had been in bed, and by the time Toothiana's screams reach him, Sentinels had already come storming up the stairs. He grabs Elsa, nestled under his arm, and she's jolted awake from her sleep mode.

They tear them apart, and a Sentinel rips open Elsa's circuit board and slams a button. Elsa locks eyes with Jack, and they're wide and afraid, before she droops forward and goes limp.

Jack roars and he puts up a good fight, worthy of a Resistance member, but ultimately Sentinels are robots too, and robots don't feel pain. Robots don't feel anything at all.

Jack is forced to his knees with Toothiana at his side, both of them dragged out into the middle of the street. Curious people stop and stare, but there's no hiding what this is. They're going to be executed, and no one will help.

"We have your leader," a voice says above them. Jack squints up and sees Hans, a high-ranking member of the Government; he's responsible for crushing any traitors and they've seen his face too many times to count. "Nicholas St. North, correct? We found him in the south end of the city, exactly as you said."

"What?" Jack wheezes. He's been kicked in the stomach, and he's trying to regain his breath.

A small gap appears within the circle of Sentinels that surround him, one coming forward with Elsa in its arms. Hans fiddles with her back, and then, Elsa jerks and she wakes up again.

But there is something different as she hobbles to her feet. When she looks at Jack, there is no sign of recognition. Her face is devoid of emotion, blank and smooth. A bit of skin on her cheek has torn away in the struggle, revealing crisscrossing wires and metal plates underneath.

"Xen 2467 reporting for duty," Elsa says, saluting Hans. Her movements are mechanical, like a true robot.

"Elsa?" Toothiana whispers. "Elsa, what are you doing?"

"My dear Elsa here is an undercover robot," Hans says, giving them a cold smile. His shiny gold buttons glint in the weak sunlight. "She was purposely made defective, and she was sent to Toothiana without her memory chip in place and the setting for emotions switched on, and her orders to find out the name and whereabouts of the Resistance leader was encrypted into her system, hiding as a code for breathing. We knew Toothiana would fix her and try to find out what could ever make a Xen so friendly. We gave Elsa a time limit to complete her mission, two to three months, and after that she would break down. She was to befriend Toothiana and gain her trust, but we didn't expect you, Jack Frost, to come along and fall in love with her."

Hans laughs, and it echoes down the street.

It's as if the air has been punched from his lungs again, and Jack is flailing. "Elsa, come on, don't tell me that's true."

"We needed… location of your leader," Elsa says quietly. Her eye twitches, and her voice cuts off in the middle of her sentence, but her lips still move. There's no life in her face. "I completed my mission."

"Good job, Xen 2467," Hans says, but his tone is dismissive. "Report to Base; you're breaking down and your job's done."

Jack is staring at Elsa, waiting for her to give him some kind of indication that is a setup, a joke, and that Elsa isn't really what she says she is.

"You are right, Jack Frost," Elsa says, just before she turns to leave. Her voice is fading away, and her arm hangs uselessly at her side. A spark flies from her broken cheek, and just before she crumples to the ground, she says, "Robots truly cannot feel emotions."

Might be continued.

author's note:

surprise?

i told you elsa is really ooc. and idk why but i can't seem to write happy endings. i think it's because it's raining atm and rain is depressing (probably also why the weather in my fics is always rainy).

so yeah, this is my way of thanking loyal readers and just cheerful reviewers in general, by giving them a fic that is just like… betrayal in the end. nooOOoo, this fic is supposed to be like 'is elsa really feeling emotions? or is it just programming?' it's really up to you and how you interpret this, which is why i didn't just end it with elsa breaking down and jack crying and shit. i actually want you guys to think.

this is marked as COMPLETE, but i've put might be continued at the end at a certain reader's insistence (looks at yamakiri with evil eye) because maybe, later on, i might get a spark that will prompt me to continue this.

thanks for reading!

extra note: 14 March 2014

kuro-d on tumblr has drawn some beautiful fan art of the last scene of this fic. it is absolutely amazing, so go check it out! the link is on my profile page.