After watching "that one scene" from the last episode, I just kinda babbled this out. Written for Mori on tumblr
~o~
As he emerges from other end of the portal Ghiata constructed, he finally understands. After months of confusion and frustration as he tries to figure out his recent actions and motivations (he might as well get a special colored ring for bewilderment; he blames the time spent galavanting around the universe with the Green Lanterns for making him weak and disconcerted like this), he now understands the change in him that has occurred since he was first brought into the Interceptor.
Admittedly, it's unnerving - and frustrating - that it took the words and suggestion of a meager Star Sapphire to finally make him realize what the growing fondness he had gained towards the Green Lanterns over time (some more than others) meant; he berates himself for not being able to completely figure it out with his own mind before Ghiata told him about love still being in his heart, before she opened the portal and he stepped through to find where (or moreso, who) he could travel to.
Really, he should have been able to comprehend the idea earlier, rather than it being a floating, uncontrollable thought that would sometimes slip into his head for a moment before he mentally swipes it away. Really, it makes sense.
But then, it doesn't.
His brain tangles itself into knots as he thinks about it, over and over, trying to determine how this is suppose to work. The angry man, holding a love for a computer. It sounds like the blurb for a story, whether it be a fairy tale that you would tell a child, or a tragedy, renowned and loved for its ill-fated situation. Even as a story, it's absurd. Fatuous. But as a real life situation, that he himself is experiencing?
It's insane.
How does one fall in love with a computer?
Though he knows, she's more than a computer; more than a machine or ship or artificial intelligence. She has to be. Not even the most advanced of A.I.'s could have that much depth, that much complexity. A robot cannot show that much drive or willpower, even being constructed on the green energy of the Green Lanterns (he remembers her pulling him out of the stimulation torture in the asteroid prison - the way her voice hardened with determination as she forced him out and urged him to help Hal and Kilowag. He also remembers telling her that he would never forgive that. He wonders if she knows that he did not long after).
Even outwardly, he can tell. The traits are small, but apparent. At least, to him. The subtle narrow of her eyes as they go into battle, or the way the corners of her lips twitch up just slightly when she receives praise from Hal or Kilowog. The imperceptible confusion and questions that run through her eyes and expression when she looks to Hal to explain a concept that she doesn't understand, and the way her chin raises when she speaks about a Green Lantern's duty and principles. They all seem too natural; too close to the behavior of an actual person to be the actions and attributes of an A.I.
Maybe it isn't so crazy after all.
But despite all of his conflictions - pushing all of his confusion and disquiet to the back of his mind - he steps forward and looks down at her, meeting blue eyes, wide with fear, and her mouth opens in surprise. "Razer…" her voice sounds so small, frightened; it stirs an obligation to protect in his chest, a committment to make certain that it never sounds like that again. "H-how…"
The brunt impact of his realization shudders off his body and he steps towards her. "It…does not matter."
And it doesn't.
For that moment, nothing else matters.
