The colour of my soul is iron-grey.

- Debussy.

I. New Robocity...

Annie had found herself in quite the unique situation, all things considered. Daniel Curtis? She refused to think his full name. No, he was dead. Just two of them, not all three.

Something instinctive clicked then.

Annie stared, mesmerized, into the familiar eyes and face of her late husband. The wrinkles and deep-set frown were not apparent at first. Annie had to grab the knob to steady herself, "Johnny," she breathed, unable to steady her heart.

Some knowledge lit the old man's familiar eyes. "No," he seemed disappointed now, "But after all you've been put through, I could see where you might make that mistake."

Daniel tried to grab her arms and she instantly shot back with a hiss under her breath. He looked at her in surprise and then his face turned remote. "Annie, it's okay. Just let me help you inside..." She shook her head, stepping away.

"What are you doing here, Daniel?" Annie grabbed for a kitchen chair and settled for sitting on the table's edge. "I thought you were killed looking for..." she couldn't keep the suspicion out of her voice. He leaned against the edge of the counter adjacent to her and she noticed that a fifty-six-year-old man, he was quite fit. Daniel noticed this, too.

"That's not important right now." He said, answering both of her questions at once. His brown brows hunched further down. "What I need to know is where your son is, Annie."

Annie felt her own red-brown brows rise. Why did he care about a grandson he'd only met once all of a sudden? And, why was Johnny no longer a priority? Did... did he know?

"Daniel," she rushed him and grabbed his arms. He stood absolutely still; when people usually did this it had a very different meaning. "Can you get me out of here?" Against her better judgment she started crying as she continued to plead quietly, frantically, "Do you know where my son is?"

His shoulders fell slightly. "You don't know where he is?"

Annie felt herself deflate and defeat was so customary it was second nature as she closed her eyes, resigned, and placed her forehead against his chest. Her arms dipped in as she loosened her grip. It wasn't her son or her husband.

But it was close enough.

Daniel huffed out a breath through his nose; a normal man would have at least placed his hand on her head. But, if she kept her wits about her, he was normally honest. Annie met his eyes and stepped back. He examined her a moment, so many questions in his eyes reflecting her own, and sighed.

"Annie, I apologize. I can't imagine the hell you must have been through." Daniel watched as she set her thin lips into a hard line, he knew she was surprised by him caring at all.

"I couldn't find him," Daniel explained.

She sharpened her response. "Why are you looking for my son, then? What's going on, Daniel? If you know why..." It turned out, as in her insufferable marriage to Kent Mansley to pump information on where Hogarth was, she had not in all this time grown comfortable casually discussing robots.

"It would take too long to explain..." He turned and backed away as she repeated his explanation angrily, interchanging would to ALWAYS. Daniel was as apologetic as he could be by the time the "?!" ended the first round of her rant. "If he comes by here looking for you, tell him Dan's been looking for him. He'll know." This was a mistake, he saw her latch on to the prospect her son was in the city. But Annie said,

"So you'll be back." She was quiet again.

Dan recognized the certainity in her eyes, he also saw what he knew was commonplace but had hoped against all else that he wouldn't find here; that even someone as strong as Miss Annetta Hughes was capable of breaking if she'd lost enough of her soul. He turned before she could see this, but she did promise him something before he vanished entirely.

"I'm going to be waiting, Dan, just like I've been doing for half of my life." His eyes drifted back to hers. "And don't think for a second I won't be watching." She stalked him and he lumbered back. "Don't let the robot hit you on the way out." Her hand found the knob and she managed to almost slam the door in his face as he slowed his steps.

Never was a Curtis. He thought, glaring at the wood.

Undeterred, Daniel gave the missile-burnt jaw bolt in his pocket a squeeze and headed for the next best place to find a person in the year 1965: City Hall. He'd find that boy yet!

The violent shift of the earth eighteen floors up made him reconsider a moment. Daniel clutched down at the lapels of his WWI bomber jacket and hurtled for the large steel door leading out to the fire escape. He threw it out of his way in time to see something hundreds of feet tall slithering past him; all the man could do was gawk at the huge machine.

...