"Ah, Mr. Jones, glad you could drop in on such a short notice. Please, have a seat!"
The principal of the Charter School of Wilmington was a scrawny fellow, with orange curly hair cropped close to his head. He wore no glasses, but his green eyes were so large, they took up nearly half of his face. Robot Jones cautiously paused in the doorway, mentally shooing away instinctive commands to check this human as a possible threat to himself and his son.
The office wasn't a tragic throwback to Robot's days being investigated by his own paranoid middle school principal. This smaller office was bright, with a large window to the left that let in the late afternoon sun. There were bookcases lining every wall, filled with textbooks on the importance of counseling children rather than punishing them. And there were even framed pictures of student artwork on the back wall. By all means, this place should have been more than welcoming.
Too bad it reeked of phoniness.
"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Morris?" Robot asked, eyeing the seat with minor caution before sitting down. The principal picked up his coffee mug. It was late in the afternoon, and he was still drinking coffee. Robot's middle school principal always drank black coffee; this one seemed to have his decked in creamer, as evidenced by its color.
"Well," Mr. Morris began after taking a long sip, "Your son Eli, here...well…" he chuckled nervously. "He-firstly, he picked a fight with a fellow student, and then when his history teacher tried to break it up, he proceeded to call him...some very obscene names."
The way the principal described the unfolding events was very anticlimactic, and it lead Robot yet again to reminiscing that Principal Madden would have probably died of a heart attack if Robot himself got into an actual fight at any point in school. Of course, said heart attack would be caused from anger, rather than fear—something the automaton could see clearly through this principal. And he wasn't sure why. Eli was a machine like his predecessor, but he was also much more humanlike in behavior especially. This wasn't Robot's first time having to visit Eli in the principal's office, either, and by this point, it probably shouldn't have been a surprise to the principal himself. Not to mention that Eli wasn't the only one causing trouble at this school. It wasn't a 'trashy' school by any means, but, to Robot's marginal disappointment, Eli was surely involving himself with many, well, bad influences, and it was the only reason Robot knew there were more fights going on in this high school than he needed to know.
"Well…" Robot paused and finally looked at his son, who was sitting in the chair next to his with shadows in front of his expressionless face. But before he could continue, the door behind them opened, and the principal politely held up a hand to let everyone know not to interrupt.
"Aaron, glad you had time to join us!" he said almost joyfully, like having another human alongside him would protect him from the two robots in the room. Robot watched the man take a seat next to the door, like he wanted to avoid him and his son, and then it occurred to him that this was the history teacher Eli swore out.
The old man that entered wore a sweater vest, and had a face shaped like a teardrop. He was hunched over as he sat, and Robot wasn't sure if this was only giving the illusion like he was glaring at Eli from his seat. "Yes…" the teacher muttered. "Mr. Jones, Robert has been a disruption to my classroom on more than one occasion."
"That's not my name," Eli pointed out, matter-of-factly.
"Young man, despite the repugnant nicknames you have picked out for me, I am going to call you by whatever first name and or last name your guardians picked out for you," the teacher said. "The school board may force me to call the 'transgender' kids by whatever new names they've chosen for themselves, but in your case, Robert is your first name, and Robert is what I am going to call you."
Robot grimaced. "I…don't exactly have a problem with him going by the name Elias, myself."
"We are getting away from the issue," the principal politely corrected, tapping his fingers against the top of the desk. "Eli has been in detention six times in the past five weeks. He's refused to turn in homework to various classes, he's interrupted Mr. Gibbs here as well as other teachers—"
"Only when they're lying," Eli muttered.
"Shush," Robot commanded him.
"J-Just like that!" the principal exclaimed. "He can't control himself. And what's worse is that the other students are seeing his lack of expulsion and wondering if they can get away with everything he is doing."
"Expulsion?" Robot asked. "For speaking out a few times?"
"You see how stupid this is?" asked Eli to his father.
"Eli, shush!" Robot said back to him.
"It's not just 'speaking out a few times', Mr. Jones," Mr. Morris corrected him gravely. "You know this. You've been in here before…. He fights with the other students, he doesn't do his work—"
"I don't start these fights!" Eli interrupted yet again, raising his voice.
"Eli—" Robot began harshly.
"Damn! Why you guys punishing me for defending myself? Half these damn fights are caused by someone else—"
"Eli!" Robot shouted.
To no avail, Eli continued, pointing to his teacher. "You act like just because I'm the robot that I can't be the victim around here. I got jumped four times since I started this lame ass school. Tryna lay me out 'cause they saw me with someone they don't like. Dumbasses. And I'm the bad guy?!"
"Hey," Robot shouted, suddenly standing up. "Nobody's persecuting you for what you are. Take that back."
"No!" Eli yelled, standing up too. "Nobody in this fuckin' room takes me seriously! Not even you! You don't give a shit what happens to me! You're never even around anymore! You're only around when I 'get in trouble'!"
"That. Is not. True." Robot's voice, which was older than Eli's, and quite lower, had a booming quality when he wanted it to. The sudden change made the teacher and principal look up with surprise.
"Okay, okay!" The weasley voice of Mr. Morris squeaked. "Everyone, please sit down—We-we need to get back to the topic! Please!"
"All you ever gave a shit about was Sparrow. Ever since I was made, I was the bastard kid you only put up with 'cause you didn't have her anymore. And when she came back, you cried like a bitch 'cause she didn't even remember you. Then you left me alone with Moza so you could go out and find her. You almost got me kidnapped. And she's still the kid you like better. Just ADMIT IT!"
"STOP!" Mr. Morris yelped. "Everyone, just sit down!"
Suddenly, and right on command, Robot slammed down into the seat, hiding his face in his arms while trembling ever-so-slightly. Eli was still standing, but even though he ignored the principal, he was now out of fuel. He looked back at the teacher, then back at the principal, and slowly plopped down into his seat, returning his eyes to the floor.
"One of the things I was going to ask you, Mr. Jones," Mr. Morris said carefully, "Was if there are any sort of problems going on at home that could be contributing to Eli's deteriorating behavior. But, uh," he said, stammering, as if the spiel he was trained to give parents never ended in a confirmation, "It is quite clear here that...something is going on."
Eli blinked. He turned to his father, expecting him to retaliate. But surprisingly, Robot remained with his head in his hands. For all they knew, Robot hadn't even heard them. But with underlying dread, Eli knew better. "Uh…" he turned back to the principal. "It's a long story. He doesn't wanna talk about it."
Mr. Morris leaned over the desk curiously, fixing his eyes on Robot. "Is he…?"
"He's fine," Eli hurriedly said. "It's a…robot thing, I think. Um, this is a really bad time to have him in."
"I see…" Mr. Morris replied. As Mr. Gibbs tapped his foot impatiently, the principal wrote something on his papers. "If it's all the same to you, Mr. Jones, perhaps we should reschedule this appointment for tomorrow, say, noon?"
Robot continued not to speak, but his foot shifted and clicked against the floor. Eli took on a nervous expression and looked at his principal. "That's…fine…" Eli gauged. Mr. Morris nodded slowly.
"Mm…" he mumbled, almost sympathetically. "Well, then… You're both dismissed… But Aaron," he looked at Mr. Gibbs, "I'll need a word with you…"
"Oh, Lord," the teacher said, rolling his eyes. As Robot aggressively forced himself out of the chair and Eli dragged himself behind, the teen heard Mr. Gibbs continue just a little longer until his voice faded out of hearing. "Did I say something 'offensive' again? I miss the days when people had a thicker skin…"
The car was void of words, but Robot wasn't taking them home. While the older automaton hadn't had it in him to even lift his head up during the end of the meeting, Eli found it eerie how well he was managing the task of driving right now.
"So…you're…really mad," Eli said. He was gazing out the window at the familiar shops in town as they cruised. "Like, pissed, again."
Robot not only didn't answer, but didn't even bother to turn his head a fraction of an inch towards his son. He couldn't even be bothered to nag Eli about his casual swearing. The air in the car was tense enough to cut with a knife. The teenager didn't know what he dreaded more—his father, when he finally decided to talk again, or Shannon, when she reacted to Robot, in the chance he decided to stay mute when he arrived home. Often, Shannon was the more intimidating parent. But there was a fairly equal scariness in this rare display of Robot's total anger.
This wasn't even the first time Eli had found himself in this situation. Infuriating his father just seemed to be a knack for him. Maybe it came prepackaged with being the originally unwanted kid, just like his invisibility. Yet, he couldn't remember a time he had bitched to his father about stuff so personal that was bothering him—and right in front of the principal and that prick of a teacher.
How pathetic was that?
Eli slumped back into his seat and pulled out his phone and stylus, wondering how many ways a kid could get screwed while still being considered a virgin. He knew Alan had a tougher childhood than himself, growing up in a bad neighborhood with only his mother, and being surrounded by violence almost on the daily. But although Eli wasn't trying to one-up his best friend, his life still wasn't a breeze, either. Half the time he didn't feel like the stereotypes expected out of him were fair, whether it was new-age adults assuming he'd be like a regular human teenager, or technophobic old people who were afraid and didn't know what to expect from him because he was a robot. In reality, he was both—an anomaly—but few people saw it that way.
His eyes slowly trailed back to his father, who, despite driving with mechanical precision, was gripping the wheel rather tightly. There were slight cracks in the plastic where it was giving way under his strength. Shannon was going to have a hissy fit if they had to buy yet another new steering wheel.
Robot must have noticed him out of his peripheral vision, because as soon as Eli's eyes shifted back, his old man finally broke his silence. "How dare you."
"What?" Eli asked stupidly, blinking and looking back at Robot. He didn't expect his father to speak so soon.
"You said I don't care about you as much as Sparrow. That I favor her over you. When I've done everything in my power to make sure you have the most comfortable life you can. Elias, I gave up so much for you."
Eli sighed, and hit his head on the headrest. "Bullshit," he mumbled under his false breath, just quietly enough so that Robot couldn't hear.
The truth was, Robot gave up nothing for Eli. Eli was made in a time when Robot wanted only Sparrow back, and no one else. He was made by someone Robot wanted out of his life. He was made against Robot's consent. He was only there to remind his father of the woman who killed herself because of him; to cause him burden. Had Eli never existed, Crowe never would have gone so far to do what she did. None of this would have happened had he not been there to leer Moza towards Crowe—to force Robot and Shannon back home, to almost die trying to take them back.
Eli could disappear from the house for days, and Robot wouldn't notice. He'd technically already done that and would have gotten away with it if Shannon wasn't home more often than Robot was. He only became more and more self-assured that these were facts as Robot's attention towards his kids faded away with each one that moved out. Now he was almost invisible since Moza had left.
"I just wish you'd take things more seriously," Robot said, letting a long silence drag out between them both. "Just because I'm a citizen now doesn't make your going to school a right. If you keep acting up, they won't treat you like a regular 'unruly' teenager and send you to Juvenile. They'll revoke my possession of you and take you away from me."
Eli slumped into the seat, his hood sliding up further over his face, hands deep in his pockets as he waited for the vibration of a text back. "I don't even get why I should go to school. If I'm not a citizen, I'm never gonna get treated the same."
"That's the whole point, Eli," Robot told him. "If you can prove to society that you can carry yourself out as a respectable individual, they might grant you citizenship, just like they did for me."
Eli scoffed. "Because it was so hard for you to do it, right?"
The car pulled up to a red light, and Robot turned to his son, eyes narrowed. "What are you implying? That I had it easy?"
Eli rolled his head towards his father, still leaning against the headrest, but with a glare in his eyes. "You made good friends, graduated with good grades, had a good job, and had a good reputation. You even had a good relationship with someone else before you got with Shannon—my mom."
"And you think I didn't work for that?" Robot asked, turning away and squeezing the wheel tighter when the light turned green. "Nearly everything good that's happened to me is because I stayed positive and made the most of out of every situation—not like you, slouching, complaining, and making comments behind my back." He shook his head. "You think the situation between AI and humans is bad now? People were afraid of me when they first saw me! They wouldn't even try to get to know me because they thought they couldn't. They didn't even know I was sentient until it became too obvious for them to deny."
Before he could comeback with a snarky reply, a rumble sounded from Eli's pocket. He pulled his phone out and checked the incoming text, his glare shifting into a look of confusion. "What? Oh, fucking perfect." He slammed the phone down on his lap.
"What?" Robot asked. "What did you read?"
"It's nothing," Eli shrugged. "You wouldn't care, anyway."
"Have you been listening to anything I've said? Tell me or I am pulling over this car and taking your phone from you."
Eli scowled. "Alright! So…" he paused, thinking of how to tell Robot the softest form of the truth that he could. And it wasn't that he couldn't just go ahead and blatantly lie, since Robot still sometimes had difficulty in telling lies from the truth, but it wasn't necessarily serious enough to completely lie about. "You know Alan, right?"
Robot did a few mental calculations, trying to put a face to a name. "Ah…yes?"
"His older brother—he...got in some trouble..."
Robot raised an eyebrow. "What kind of trouble?"
Eli grimaced. "Well, he and another guy got into a... little argument about a loan he made him, and the other guy didn't take it that well..."
"What kind of loan?" Robot asked, his voice lowering.
"Oh, you know, for—" Eli suddenly made a noise like he was coughing and muffled his voice into the crook of his elbow, carefully articulating every word to come out afterwards, "—weed and stuff—and uh, this guy apparently decided to show his, uh, lack of appreciation for not getting the money back in a timely manner by—" he 'coughed' again—"beating him down."
"Stop coughing! I can understand you perfectly well!" Robot scolded him. "You expect me to 'cut you some slack' when you just got a text saying your friend's brother got into a fight over drug money?!"
"There you go! Always jumpin' to conclusions! Why do you think I didn't wanna talk about it?"
Robot scowled. "And you're surprised I'm not more involved in your life when you hide things from me?"
"Because you wouldn't understand!"
"Elias, I can extrapolate from the given information that you are surrounding yourself with individuals who are not contributing to healthy behavior—"
"Would you stop talking like a computer for once?!" Eli yelled. "Yes, my friends live in the ghetto. But they're good people! They haven't missed a day of school—hell, one of them helps pay the rent!"
Now it was Robot's turn to scoff. He pulled into the parking lot of a local hardware store and shut the car off. With that done, he turned so both his face and chest were facing his son. "You honestly want me to believe that none of your reprimandable actions are a result of the people you hang out with?"
"I want you to believe," Eli corrected him, "in anything or anyone that I care about for once. I'm almost seventeen, why won't you trust me?"
"Because you won't do the basic things I've asked you to! Show up for class, turn in your work, respect your teachers and your peers…"
Robot unlocked the doors to the car. He was just going to run into the store for a moment, but Eli swung the passenger's side door open and ran out. "I'm not gonna be invisible all the fuckin' time for you!"
Robot's mouth was hanging agape when Eli slammed the door. Thoughts spinning, the older automaton took his keys, flung the driver's side door open, leaped out, slammed it shut and ran after his son. "Eli! Eli, come back here!"
With no particular direction to go, Eli stormed for the front door to the hardware store. The sliding doors opened before the six foot tall robot, and he entered, looking down a line of registers.
Eli didn't have a lot of hobbies that had to do with his hands. Aside from street dancing and spitting verses, the other things men stereotypically enjoyed, like light house repair, was beyond his understanding—unless it had to do with cars, but Eli only understood half about the subject of automotive repair because it was essential. His father, on the other hand, was obsessed with upgrading the house. When he wasn't at the digital supply outlet, he was here, grabbing a new power drill or a box of nails.
The sight of professional and amateur repairmen turning away from their conversations to look at Eli made the teenage robot stop cold in his tracks. Sometimes when he was going somewhere where he expected his appearance to draw unwanted attention, he'd strip naked and go invisible, carrying on his business without exchanging a single word with anyone. But it was too late for that now.
He reached up and yanked his hood tight, the cap beneath it low to his eyes, as Robot jogged inside right behind him. "Don't make me run after you, Eli, you know I need knee-joint repairs in a week." Robot straightened up and then noticed the amount of attention Eli's burst into the store had caused. But when they noticed the adult robot having joined them in the stare-back, the workers and customers of the store carried out their business like nothing had happened.
Robot noticed Eli's frozen stance, like a tap on the shoulder would make him explode, and spoke carefully. "Maybe we could use this as a bonding experience. Would you care to help me shop?"
Eli unfroze, his arms falling slack against his sides. Up at the nearest register, a blond haired dad with clogs and hairy legs exposed by shorts was checking out with a nearly identical looking little boy at his side. He looked disgusted, met his father's eyes, and said, "Just…tell me what you need and I'll pick up half."
Despite the visible disappointment on Robot's face, Eli had made the correct choice to break away from his father when he did. Because when he veered off near the corner of the store, two lightbulbs already in his hands, he caught sight of a group of teenagers from his own high school. Eli was just about to turn into the next aisle when he spotted them, and ducked out of reach before they ever had the chance to see him.
Sitting behind an out-of-box display of a tool desk, Eli thought it was weird enough that he himself had been compelled to come inside. He couldn't imagine what a couple of nimrod kids his own age would be doing here, least they were dragged here by their own dads—and somehow, Eli couldn't see that happening to anyone but himself. He looked up and realized the desk was propping up a tire on the top. He pulled off his hood and cap, went invisible, and peered through the hole, keeping his still very visible clothes hidden behind the desk. The hole in the tire was more than wide enough to get a good view of the scene.
Three boys in baggy clothing were chuckling as they carried long, uncut pieces of wood under their arms and various tools in the other. "Wait, he really said that?"
"Yes! Clark is an emo little bitch," the other said, shrugging. "He'd die if he found out Jen left him for someone that doesn't treat her like shit."
"Oh, like that bitch has it in him!" the other replied, putting down the tools and laying the boards against the wall. He snatched up a large, braided rope on a corkboard and pulled his bangs in front of his face. "Life is PAIN. If I killed myself, no one would give a shit. Please follow me on Instagram."
The two teens exploded into laughter, while the friend of the boy holding the rope took it from him and began making a pretend noose around his neck. Then, abruptly, letting his head fall to the side with his eyes closed. After just five seconds, the noosed boy's eyes blinked open. "One like equals one respect."
"Stop and put that shit away now," the first boy said, taking the rope back. "He probably gets off on that."
The second boy obeyed and dropped the rope on the ground, not bothering to wind it back up. When they got close, Eli moved around to the side of the shelf, and watched the boys head for the registers. His visibility soon came back and he watched as his hands and feet appeared before him, the lightbulbs in his fists no longer floating in mid air.
Not really sure why, Eli stuffed the bulbs into his pocket, and got up to pick up the rope. Logic would tell him that an uncontrollable robotic urge—an urge for order and cleanliness—made him need to pick it up and put it back on the rack—an urge he wasn't proud of, but one he understood. But holding it in his hands, Eli realized just how easy it was for a human to inflict enough self injury to end their life. You didn't need a gun or a knife, or a weapon of any kind. Something as simple as a bunch of strings bound tightly together into a rope could kill a human being.
His eye twitched. Was it that easy for a robot, too? Any appliance would be reduced to uselessness with a single broken part, but robots were different. They were made to be durable, to function as living beings that had unlimited tasks to complete.
Suddenly aware of his own train of thought, Eli feverishly shook his head. "Damn…" And put the rope back in its correct spot—never minding that the cardboard casing had been ripped open and the product probably couldn't be sold anyway.
"Eli?"
The teenager spun around and saw his father standing there, two packages of batteries and a handful of snacks (presumably for Shannon), in his hands.
"I think I'm going to need you to grab my card from my back pocket," Robot told him jokingly, smirking. He paused and looked at Eli's large sweater pocket. "What's in there?"
"Oh, it's just the lightbulbs," Eli said, dismissively, pulling them out. "What…oh, come on! I wasn't gonna steal them!"
Robot did a long, loud sigh. "Let's go."
They walked to the cashier in silence, with Eli speaking only once to state that "If I was going to steal, I wouldn't make it that obvious". This got no response from Robot, who paid and carried everything out.
On the drive back, Robot had hoped that he and his son could make up for the argument they'd had earlier. While Eli didn't appear to hold anymore immediate hostility towards him, as soon as he got in the car, he hit the bluetooth function on the phone that connected with his hearing receptors and made himself deaf to the world with blaring music only he himself could hear. Robot sighed again, feeling old and heavy as he guided the car into the driveway and pulled to a perfectly smooth stop.
Still listening to his music, Eli helped Robot unload the car and carry the items into the garage. He barely noticed Shannon enter from the connecting door to the kitchen and exchange words with Robot with a sort of nervous look. He didn't bother to stick around to see if it was about him and the meeting with the principal. He knew it was.
When he got back to his room, door locked, Eli shut off his music. That's when he noticed a text that had arrived. Moza had sent him a blank message that simply included a picture of a black kid in front of a green screened image of the White House, with a caption in the top reading "the perfect anime doesn't exis-".
After a moment, he grinned. Corey in the House. Eli didn't grow up watching Nick or Cartoon Network. He watched the Disney Channel—in all of its live-action cheese. From The Suite Life of Zack and Cody to Phineas and Ferb, the memories of the innocence he'd once had crept up on him.
Of course, the image Moza sent, caption and all, was a dead meme, but with how poorly this day had been, Eli didn't really care. It was a stupid little picture that reminded him of a time when he wasn't even aware that he was a bastard child whose existence was simply being tolerated. When he was content with himself. Content with his place among his peers, his place in society. And it was all because he didn't even understand. But now he did. He'd known for a long, long time, now. And he'd continue to know.
But...well… He laid down in the bed, face down. Maybe he could stop himself from knowing one day. Just end it. End the knowledge. There was no point to it—this knowledge. This everything, it made him feel nothing anymore.
After a while, he rolled his head to the side, looking at his phone. He sat up just enough to grab the phone and hit the little phone shaped symbol next to the number that had sent him the meme with his stylus.
After just a few rings, Moza picked up. "Hi! Uh, did I send that at a bad time?"
"No. It was a pretty good time, actually," Eli told her. "You...got a minute?"
There was a sound of a man in the room—Moza's boyfriend, presumably. And soon after, Moza responded. "Yeah, I do, uh, let me just mark where I left off in my textbook."
Eli grinned just a little. "Like you just randomly stopped reading like a diligent student to send me dead memes."
"I try sometimes," Moza defended. "What'd you need to talk about?"
Eli stared at the wall. Was it pathetic that he was calling his sister like this? "I don't know. Just to talk, I guess...How've you been?"
"Well, Brian's been pretty good, thank you very much. Sparrow was over yesterday—been her usual self. You know, lesbian in hipster coffee houses by day. Batwoman by night." Moza snorted. "What about you?"
Eli paused. "The usual," he said, almost having to choke it out. "Well...sorta."
"Oh, God," Moza groaned. "What did you do?"
"It's more what I'm not doing," Eli said, trying to turn it into a joke. "So I skipped an assignment or two…"
"Yikes," Moza said. "Actually, how's school been for you? Last time Mom called, she said she was worried about you."
Eli grimaced. It was one thing for Robot to say he was worried about him—frankly, he didn't always believe it was true. But Shannon? Shannon didn't deserve to be worried about him. "What'd she say?"
"Well…" Moza thought for a moment. In the background, there was music playing. "She just said that you were leaving the house more often and never talked to her or Robot. I'd have come over and talked or something but college has me trapped… Have you been okay?"
He paused. He paused for a long time. It was only when Moza called him out that he finally gathered the nerve to speak out. "Tell me something."
"Wh-what?" asked Moza.
"When I was younger, and when Dad was… well, really depressed about Sparrow and stuff, did he ever say anything about wanting to hurt himself?"
Now it was Moza's turn to pause. "Eli, what has he said to you?" she asked, cautiously.
"N-nothing," Eli said. Fuck, he cursed in his head. That's not what I wanted her to think. "He's not talking about anything like that now, I was just curious about the past and stuff."
"Eli, if Robot has been saying anything—"
"I'm telling you, he hasn't!" Eli shouted into the phone, and immediately regretted it. He didn't want what might have been the last conversation he ever had with Moza to involve any yelling. "But…he really avoids telling me anything about what was going on in his head at that time, and I was just wondering—"
"What's got you thinking about this?" Moza interrupted.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck it all. "What do you think he would've done if things didn't turn out the way they did? I mean, with Sparrow coming home, and you getting out of the hospital, and—"
"Seriously, you're scaring me," Moza said. "Stop it. Look, I'm glad things turned out the way they did. I couldn't be happier. But I don't even like thinking about back then. I almost died—so did Robot. And it was almost all my fault. So… can we stop, please?"
Thank fucking God. Eli didn't have the answer he was looking for, but it was better than staying on the track they were on. The last thing he needed was for Moza to freak out and call Shannon about Dad supposedly being suicidal. As if he wasn't in enough trouble already. His head went light at the thought of anybody he cared about feeling like he did right now.
"...Yeah… We can stop," Eli murmured. The light through his curtains was fading as clouds drifted beneath the sun. He stared ahead, watching the light, seeing if he could catch just how slowly it was disappearing, but Moza interrupted him cautiously.
"Did...you wanna talk about anything else?" she asked. It took Eli another pause to respond.
"No… I'll leave you to study," he said quietly. "Sorry."
"Alright. Just…" Moza sighed, "call me again if you need to talk, okay?"
This one. This response was painful. "I will. If I need you." He looked all around the room, as if paranoid someone was overhearing him. "I love you, alright?" he said, almost whispering.
"...I love you too," Moza said. Her voice was a lot lower than before. Eli held the phone a bit longer, said his quiet goodbyes, and then slowly hung up. The world was going by in slow-motion. He continued to lay in his bed, motionless and staring at the wall, but he wasn't thinking about anything. Not the past, not the future, not the present. Definitely not the present.
He squeezed his eyes shut, kneading the sheets in his fingers. Saying that 'I love you' to Moza had unleashed a tidal wave of emotion he wasn't prepared to deal with. It made his situation too real.
Sometime later, Shannon knocked on his bedroom door lightly. He'd just started to nod off when she asked if they could talk. But he told her he simply wanted to go to sleep. That he was tired.
Going to sleep sounded better than being awake, anyway.
Originally published to dA March 23rd, 2019Collab time with Wit (Mag) again!
We wrote this a few months ago. Well, she did most of the writing and planning for this, and I threw in a few lines, lol. This is honestly my favorite thing we've collabbed on so far, and I hope it's apparent how much we felt this one.
This story chronicles the high school years of Robot's son, Eli (aka, Robbie, to people who don't respect him enough to call him by his nickname). A break dancing, rap spitting 2010s kid who enjoys a meme every once in a while. Growing up in the aftermath of his family's controversy, he sometimes feels like the shadow of a person than his own person. It doesn't help that the friends he hangs around are misjudged, too.
In most of the previous fics, Moza and Sparrow have taken more center stage, where "Robbie" has just been the little kid who we don't get to know a lot about. It was really interesting to age him up and see what kind of person he would become.
This story takes place in the Project Jones timeline, of course, so it's a bit grittier and more dialog driven than the standard fics.
And like pretty much everything Project Jones related, Internet has the wheel, I'm just along for the ride. This whole story with the parent-principal conference, the car ride, and Eli's feels was her idea. Without her, this teenage Eli just wouldn't exist. So go and give her the loves.
Comments/Criticism/Spam I don't care, say anything.
Whatever Happened to Robot Jones? © Greg Miller & Cartoon Network