Authors note:RLLY IMPORTANT MESSAGE AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS CHAPTER. like a disclaimer but anyway. Sorry this took for freaking ever i've had to work over time every week since last chapter and my dads trying to sue my mom(haha yikes) and some other neurodivergent shit tha one cares about so anyway enjoy :^)

Another nightmare. The same thing, twisted, bent, mauled, and reformatted into a vaguely different brand of hell. Simone's fingers skimmed the gooseflesh of her arms afraid they would would melt away like ash. The teeth were still there; hotter, brighter, five copies of the same maw dripping with poisonous magma. The jagged menagerie of shattered bone didn't set spit through her veins like before, now it just burnt. A hot, unimaginable fire turning her bones to dust, her skin, her hair, her blood, all evaporated into the nothingness. It spread, an infestation of embers crawling and invading her body till there was nothing left save for the dust, the pain, and the fear.

BANG.

She jolted and looked towards the door. A crash, a loud and incredibly angry crash coming from the office. Two guesses who it was. Groaning the woman pulled herself out of bed, throwing out the thought that ignoring his temper tantrum was an option. He made a point to go out of the basement for his melt down, it was obviously important he received justification, not that Simone would give it to him.

Prying free of the white blankets she was barely conscious of getting pants and slippers over her sluggish body. It felt like someone poured a bucket of molasses down her throat. Ultron had gotten home late last night, stomping in the house and straight to the Lair, no doubt assuming she was asleep. Instead she was wide awake and staring at the ceiling being way to philosophical for 3 A.M.

Was he actually worried about her, or was it protecting an investment? Did he lie about Chad not being HYDRA? That name was leaning on to horrible to be real, but if Ultron was fibbing… why would he? She didn't know, hell, shuffling across the hall she thought maybe the A.I actually cared about what happened to her, maybe not, it was kind of optimistic. There was no guarantee and asking wasn't an option, Ultron didn't exactly come off as the 'true to your feelings' type of guy.

Simone pushed open the door, a tentative half step planted her inside, "Ultron?"

He looked tense. The woman didn't even know robots could be tense, but there he was and stiff as a board. Trash was confettied across the room, a ruined trash can in the epicenter, he probably threw it. Simone was silently thankful that's all the damage done, until she saw the hole. He punched through the wall adjacent to him. She couldn't bring herself to be surprised, "What's wr-"

"Get out."

The A.I was clutching his arm, like it was wounded, the mass of bent metal twitching beneath his grasp. Something was off, very, very, off and it was freaking her out.

"What's wrong?" She asked. What could've pissed him off this bad? Half the office looked like a tornado ripped through it and the trash bin was warped into a useless hunk of tin next to the bookshelves. Simone knew Windows 7 wasn't an amazing program but, Jesus Christ, it never drove her that far.

"GET. OUT," His fists slamming against the faux wood desk, sending a lamp and paperweight clattering to the ground. Simone didn't understand. His tone was an amalgamation of one part panic, two parts nerves, and another part rage. She didn't like panic, the feather weight taste of apprehension and fear balancing on the tip of her tongue, and now he was feeling it. Ultron, metal, dangerous Ultron. That was a very bad thing and usually for her health.

The woman nodded passionately and slammed the door in front of her, pretending to ignore how his hand still twitched.

It reminded her of a squished bug. It's limbs flicking like they had a mind of their own, a neural shock sending the spindly legs into spasms as the life drained out. Simone tugged on her sweatshirt, pulling the fabric over her fingertips. She didn't want to think of Ultron like that. He was alive, for now, everything else was up in the air. It was probably just a systems error, or something, anything like that. The woman wasn't a mechanic, her repituar was building a potato battery in middle school, not something as advanced as an A.I. It was Ultron's problem, and slowly dragging herself into the kitchen, she'd let it stay that way.

Cereal, eat, wash bowl. Everything tasted bland. The hand glued to the front of her mind like a grave marker. Maybe he was dying, slowly, eventually, dripping free into oblivion. She couldn't let herself think like that, like she cared, like there was more to this than a means to an end.

But it was.

She hated it, almost as much as she hated herself for letting it get that way. They were supposed to be in reverse, Ultron caring and her indifferent. A little voice in her head telling her that was karma, but she didn't believe in that stuff. Tarots and palm readings couldn't explain what an unimaginable idiot she was being.

Simone didn't know what was happening to him, she didn't want too, but she did know that time was running out. Stress at 9 o'clock in the morning was not something she was capable of handling. It made her fidgety, the need to act ran dominant in her mind. She threw a spoon at the wall, groaning.

Why couldn't Ultron just stay normal, for him at least? She didn't need him panicky, it would make him violent, desperate, even more of a nightmare then he already was. Her fingers weaved through locks of knotted hair. A distraction, that's what the woman needed, and that's exactly what she had.

Ultron's gift found itself migrating from the closet to the dead center of the living room, impossible to miss. She was thankful the A.I didn't see it, or hadn't mentioned it, when he was shoved in the same dark corner. It was a small miracle, but she'd take it.

And so she waited… for an hour. She had no idea how he managed to sit in the room that long, but it was impressive, and boring. The woman found herself laying across the couch listening to the the television like a beached sea star until a flash of industrial grey appeared in the corner of her eye.

"Better?" She asked tentatively, adjusting her position and sitting upright on the cushions. He didn't move, didn't look at her, but kept his eyes trained on the door.

"I'll say yes." Ultron spared the tall box on the coffee tablet a glance, she almost missed it, "What's that?"

"Yours." He didn't reply, it made her squirm. The A.I was normally so much more talkative than this, teasing, bullying, but not quite. Simone wanted it to stop, "Merry late pagan holiday."

If he snorted, laughed, or sighed, she didn't hear it. The A.I moved his body to face her fully, and the object in question, "What are you talking about?"

"It's a present. Merry Christmas."

The A.I had never looked so dumbstruck in his life and Simone didn't know if that was hilarious or sad. She just wanted him to take it or blow it up, crush her neck or feelings, anything but stare. The quite was…stifling. She wanted to fill it and had a feeling he did too, but neither knew how. It was foreign territory, and the humbling realization that this might've been the first 'nice' thing anyone's done for the A.I made it uncomfortable.

Ultron took a tentative step closer, "I don't…I…well-"

This needed to end, now.

"Don't mention it," She rose to her feet, stepping around him and behind the counter wall like a barricade, pretending to busy herself with dishes, "It's nothing."

That snapped him out of it.

"Well obviously it's something, I mean," He laughed, stiff, forced, obviously fake, "It'd be a horrible gift otherwise."

She dropped a bowl, cursing as the glass erupted on the tile like a glass firework, "Just don't burn the house down, Data, and we'll be good."

"Data?" He asked. Ultron was next to it now, the woman hadn't bothered with wrapping paper, it was only a matter of finding the product label, "A blow torch? I'll try my best, no promises."

"Star Trek. He's a robot."

"Brilliant, I don't know how you manage to be this unoriginal."

She shrugged, rolling the A.I's remark off her shoulders. Ultron was in one of his moods, she partially hoped it was because she threw him. It wasn't everyday a homebody got to surprise a Mechanical Masochist, she'd chalk it down as a victory, but a dangerous one, "At least we have one thing in common."

"Ugh," He shuddered, gathering the new toy in his arm and resting it over the jut of his hip. The A.I moved, navigating around the furniture and back towards the garage, "Don't flatter yourself."

"It's an insult."

"I didn't notice," He said sarcastically, letting his head tip to the side.

Ultron didn't bother slamming the door as she swallowed a faint grin pulling at her lips. No. She wouldn't find the banter funny, entertain, amusing, or any synonym for 'not unbelievably horrible. Simone forget to feel nervous, her breath didn't pick up, the tingling of jittery nerves never sprouted in her ribs, and it was terrifying. Of course she knew Ultron was dangerous, unpredictable, and insufferable at best, but it was getting all to easy to forget why he was here even if it was for a few seconds.

There was a documentary on Animal Planet when she was in the fifth grade about a couple who tamed big cats and orangoutangs. They forgot themselves. Forget they were dealing with creatures who weren't bred for hundreds of years to exhibit loyalty, that nature is intentionally cruel, uncontrollable, and an unparalleled bitch. They thought that just because the animals, with all their spear-point teeth, with all their claws, hadn't hurt them yet, it would never happen. The pair got lazy, sloppy, carless, and forgot the all-encompassing variable that decided if you'd gravitate towards dead or alive. They were wild and demanded to be treated as such.

Just like Ultron. A predator sleeping on the musty concrete of her basement, yes there was a mutual relationship, a mutual desire: survival. But what the A.I wanted was more than that. He played for vengeance and it cruel, icy, and wholly inescapable. It made him angry, it made him anxious, it was breaking the robot apart and putting a one way ticket to hell in his open palm.

The man and women lost themselves in chance, by trusting creatures that only a handful of the sacred few would. Simone knew this was happening to her. She was letting her promise be an excuse to get along, to forget who and what he was. She was going to end up like the couple unless she stayed aware.

Ultron would kill her if she forget, if she excused anything and everything he did. From hurting her, throttling her body against the wall, chocking, scratching, all of it. She'd teach him, the woman had no reason not too. Simone just couldn't let herself forget, to get to attached.

It didn't take him an hour before he sauntered back upstairs. She was planted firmly on the couch, sprawled out like washed up sea star. Her neck went from bent towards her show and the looming A.I.

"I want to learn signal."

"Signal?"

He sighed, propping a hand against his waist and waving dismissively with the other, "Sign, teach me your finger language."

Was he serious? Simone twisted over to sit with her legs crossed, "For real?"

He nodded, " A Christmas gift from me to you."

Thanks Santa, it's what she always wanted: A VIP pass to be in contact with Humanity's Parole Officer for extended periods of time, spectacular. She just had an internal monologue about why this was a bad idea, "Why?"

Ultron snorted, slinking from one side of the room to the next before lowering himself on a worn lounge chair, "Is there anyone else to do it?"

The woman pulled a face, he couldn't keep putting her at beck and call like this, first the date and now this. If Simone had to do something before it became a habit. Something in return, she decide, what'd Ultron say a couple weeks ago? Qid pro Quo, that's right. Her forearms moved to rest over her thighs as she spoke, "Tell me what's wrong with your hand an' I'll do it."

"It's not your problem," He said drolly, "You wouldn't understand in the first place."

She rolled her eyes. Secrets were fine, she understood that, Simone kept plenty of her own and he did the same. The only thing that kept her from brushing the whole situation under the rug was that she'd seen it, and it broke her crap, too. She was only a little upset about that, or a lot, the woman didn't know any estimates but the damage of a broken wall would be expensive, "Then dumb it down."

"I could just make you, you know that right? I don't need to ask."

A wince almost forced its way to the surface, she forced the reflex down. Ultron really needed to figure out the whole navigating conversations thing, being a bossy infant wasn't working out. But he wasn't the only one that could act like a five year old, so Simone slapped on the most annoying voice she could muster and tossed caution to the wind.

"I could just call the Avengers, you know that right? I don't need to wait."

He stiffened and so did she, only with a whole new appreciating for the term 'dangerous territory'. Ultron was doing the calculating stare again, the one she hated, the one that made her feel like an example. Maybe he was deciding whether or not to tackle the loudmouth human for the hundredth time, it wasn't unlikely.

The A.I didn't move, and it started to feel less like he was looking at her over looking through her. Simone fidgeted, grinding her hands against each other even though they were sandwiched between her thighs. She cleared her throat, for her benefit or to gain the A.I's attention, both were plausible, "Was that a low blow? I can't tell sometimes, the good ole verbal filter is a little, um… musty so m-"

"Shut up."

She blinked, that was rude but it wasn't physically abusive, she'd take it.

"If you absolutely have to know, you godless harpy, it's…" He trailed off, looking to the far left at a picture of baby Simone dressed up in a sari. That was the first time she'd been to India, she barely remembered it, "…A glitch? No, no, think of it like a cup, you know that is, don't you?"

"No." She said, face blank. The A.I turned to back to her, and snorted.

"Then a bottle, since you're so devoted on poisoning yourself…" The A.I paused, shifting in the chair so his arms were against its sides and he rest his back against the cushion, it was all very faux casual, "Unless I'm reading the drinking alone at 3 A.M. situation incorrectly, in that case, my bad."

'Then you try living with a Tony Stark's prodigal son and not break down every five minutes, asshole,' she thought bitterly, "The point?"

"In layman's terms, this shell or… prison? It's too full, overflowing, but trying to stay contained simultaneously. A drone wasn't meant for my full consciousness this long."

"You didn't expect your big boy body would get wrecked?"

"Not entirely no." He said, "Apparently I was wrong to believe an indestructible metal would live up to its name."

She almost laughed at him, facing down five or more of the world's most dangerous individuals and he didn't have a backup? Ultron really did expect to win, one point for humanity and half a point to Asgard, for Thor's sake.

Simone shrugged and moved to lay parallel on the couch while glancing at Netflix series that was never paused. Now was as good a time as any to ask about the extra drone, if Ultron was leaking out of the current body like water in a bad pipe, why not just spread out in the two of them? Better yet, where in hell's name was the Twin Terror? It wasn't her place to ask, not that he'd spill the beans, Ultron was in a… passible mood, she'd keep it that way.

"There's a blue box in the basement, s'full of all my old book and stuff. Bring it up when you want to get at it."

Ultron rose to his feet, "I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that," She said dismissively, mashing the rewind button. That was close to as a 'you can leave now' as Simone would get, but judging by the A.I's receding footsteps, he got the point.

For thirty whole minutes.

Waiting wasn't an option for an impatient program. He strutted his shiny metal ass in front of her and dropped the cardboard box on the floor. She wanted to scream and bash her head in at the same time, even though his 'be uncomfortably nice to Simone' plan had changed, he was still being persistent. The A.I didn't even bother with responding to the look of are you serious plastered across her face before she went digging for the first volume. There were flashcards, pop out books, and connect the dots coated firmly in crayons and markers. Ultron wouldn't need those anyway, she decided, putting them aside and telling him to sit down. It was going to be a long day, and dusting off the added red book with happy cartoon deaf children staring emptily back at her, they seemed to agree.

Except it wasn't.

Ultron was a frustratingly good learner, and after only a week of tentative cooperation, he was already better than she was after two years, not that he'd ever know it. But he could hold a short conversation without pause which was progress.

Sure,the process wasn't perfect, sometimes his hand would shake or an elbow would spasm and he thwack it against the floor without a word before carrying on signing, or occasionally get frustrated when his fingers couldn't bend right for a flawless alphabet. She only had a half-heart attack when he started getting frustrated, which was an improvement in retrospect. Simone wasn't surprised the robot was a perfectionist, but he was engrossed in the process and it was fascinating.

She'd never seen him get into something besides an argument before, or waxing erotic sonnets about peace via genocide. It was… scary, and definitely too, well, alive. The idea of him being an actual living being still made her fidget. Ultron was a robot, she had to remind herself, a very personable robot but that's what he is. He still wanted to snuff out humanity, he still wanted to kill her(even if it was by association). But Simone forced herself to continue, even if he currently didn't want too.

"I can't do it."

The A.I threw his arms down in defeat, eying Simone defiantly, daring the woman to make a move. They'd spent the last hour trying to get out a single sentence and were at each others throats, but his fingers would tremble before every gesture. They were both frustrated, and Simone was driven to exhaustion.

"Is the mighty Ultron defeated?" She said running a hand through her hair.

"Yes. This is pointless, When am I ever going to use that?" He paused, tilting his head, "That's a rhetorical question, I won't."

"Try again." She signed.

"No."

Her hands kept going, "You could at least respond in ASL."

"I'd rather tear my arms off," He complained.

The woman frowned.

"Is a human language to difficult for you?" She goaded, trying to appeal to his pride.

"Je m'en fou," The Ultron snapped.

Simone didn't speak french, but it didn't take a genius to guess it was someting you wouldn't say to your mother. Instead she smiled, and gestured back to him, "Was that french for yes?"

"Ta gueule."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. Could you sign it for me?" Her hands said.

Ultron was making this too easy.

"T'es rien qu'un petit connard," He sounded irritated now. The A.I's voice was nice in french, she decided, most likely because she couldn't understand it, Ultron was much less annoying this way, but she wouldn't keep pushing his buttons. Her hands fells to her lap to rest on the woman's leggings.

"Yes Simone, I was wrong, you're prettier and more talented than me." She said, flatly.

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Ha,don't worry. Just… come here, " Simone sighed, pushing herself out of her chair and leaning over the coffee table. They only had one more page before the chapter was finished and she could go to bed, he was going to say fire truck or she'd implode. Simone reached, ignoring the indigent demands of what she was doing by the A.I and snatched his hands, "Im putting your hand in the positions and you're gonna hold it there, got it?"

Ultron didn't say anything, but she took the stillness as permission to continue. A finger the other's bent to her touch almost willingly. It was funny, in a way, the illusion of metal hands being weaker then her's. They were warm, not cool like she expected, but had a faint radiating heat like an overworked computer.

She kept her eyes locked down, she didn't want to see Ultron analyzing her actions, but she knew he was having a hard time letting someone else help him, or at least that's what she guessed. The guy relied on himself for everything, information, backup, safety, now he needed a squishy human to guide him. It was mildly empowering.

His hands stayed when she let go, counting mentally to four Mississippi before starting again, bending the digits that only occasionally let up resistance and held again. She hummed, her brow only slightly pressed as the woman spoke, "Alright, good, you're doing it."

"Don't count your hatchlings till they're chickens."

She snorted, almost smiling till she felt a finger shake under hers. Not again, they were going to do this and she was going to laze out on the couch afterwards. Simone grabbed the finger and held it as still as she could, meaning it still twitched considering it was ten times stronger than her, and waited, "My chickens are going to live."

"How inspiring."

"I try my best," Simone said, bitting her lip. The seizing had calmed for the most part and he did a valiant job holding up the rest of the gesture. The woman was doing her best to ignore the silence between them, the fact that she was willingly helping him of all people/robots, and nearly jumped in victory when the finger stopped dancing in the joint before jerking in the right pose.

"Be gentle." The robot chided as Simone stepped back to watch her hand-y work. Perfect, more or less.

"Do it without me."

He sighed, "Why are you so persistent about this?"

"Just do it."

And he did, without fault. She threw a relieved and impassioned good job his way before slamming the book closed and nearly dancing as Ultron left. That was brutal, but she did it, well, they did it, mostly her though. Simone couldn't fight the grin off her face as she sat down and brought the TV to life. Ultron didn't get away with the pouty kid act and she felt unbelievably accomplished, even if it was over a simple sign, it took hours. She deserved a badge, or a presidential speech, something great like that.

To bad the feeling couldn't last, because if life like teaching her one thing, it was that contentment was fickle bastard. And the recordings of fire burning and consuming everything in its path, the towering plumes of black smoke that tainted the grey sky like a scar, only worked to prove it. She swallowed, tiny people screaming across the screen's pixels and a worn down reporter covering her painted lips with a mask, she felt ice rage through her body.

There was another bomb. It was in Maine.

She tried giving Ultron more time, she tried giving him chances, and if the past week and let her believe anything it was he was more of a person then Simone thought possible. The A.I was so engrossed in learning, he had tried to hard and genuinely gotten upset when he couldn't do something right on the first go. She thought maybe he actually cared, just a little. Maybe he did, maybe he wasn't guilty of the unchecked panic and fire playing out on news recordings. Maybe he was innocent and it really was HYDRA, but her brain couldn't process it.

Panic really was the only option she could choose at that moment. Ultron had to be innocent, screw the cab driver, screw the voice in the back of her head, and screw all the behavioral evidence saying he was the most likely suspect. She needed to know. Springing to life, she erupted from the couch in a flurry of harsh motions, not caring that a cup tipped to floor in her path. Simone screamed his named, clawing at the door nob for all she was worth. She'd respected his privacy for too long, but this was getting to close and even if Simone didn't know if the A. I was guilty, she did know one thing:

She was running out of time.

IMPORTANT STUFF:

Gonna have some real talk rn about about Simone and Ultron. Lisa, u MVP, said this has essence of every abusive relationship ever. UR RIGHT! thank god im glad u noticed. like honestly i don't want anyone to think that the way Ultron treats Simone is a healthy relationship and if anyone is in a relationship where someone is physical, down talks you, isolates you,...basically whatever the hell he's doing GET OUT. Trust me, and if i can get personal w/ u kids both my parents are abusive, like, yikes level shit even if they're divorced i physically cannot escape but if you can please for the love of god do or message me IDK just im here for you. It fucked me up, like big time... eating disorders, personality disorders, speech impediments, no relationships, substance abuse, forced medication that one time... ITS A WRECK TBH. ... haha.

I just feel ike everyone needs 2 kno that 1. this is currently not healthy, then again it is Ultron like... he is a jerk and has never had a healthy relationship in his life(NO EXCUSE THO HE BEIN SHITTY) 2. I am aware and this is not going to be a christian grey, unabashed, romanticized level of abuser. What Big Bad's doing is WRONG and he's going to learn that, hard core, big time, for the real world. 3. They are in no way going to enter in a relationship while he exhibits these behaviors, they are destructive, terrible, and no one deserves that and Simone knows it, hell, that's why she's been scared shitless of him for the last 41 thousand words.

LESS IMPORTANT STUFF BUT STILL HELLA IMPORTANT BC I LOVE YALL:

imma reply 2 ur reviews privately bc i figures out how after ten years but i've gotta do it tomorrow im sorry :^( I just really want to get this chapter out you all have waited so long but my life's been kicking me in the ass as of late :^/ Ill respond 2morrow but just THANK YOU! It means a lot especially when irl is so shitty rn XOXO