Title: Punk Rock Poetry 4: Never Ending Math Equation
Author: L0C
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The fourth woman in Harper's life.
Series: Punk Rock Poetry: It's about Harper and girls. This is the fourth one.
Spoilers: None. I think.
Content Warning: None.
Disclaimer: Andromeda is property of Tribune. The title and inspiration, like Space Travel is Boring, is a song by Modest Mouse. This reads a lot differently than the other Punk Rock Poetries because they were written so long ago, and Harper is many years older in this one.

PUNK ROCK POETRY

NEVER ENDING MATH EQUATION

Harper was beginning to think he was destined to be alone. One of those unhinged geniuses who died in some room somewhere and no one knew about it, and then a hundred years later little kids would learn about his life in school and do projects.

When Harper thought about it that way it was slightly more bearable because it meant his aloneness had some purpose and some meaning. But most of the time he'd drink Weissbrau and mope and snark whenever Beka tried to talk to him.

Harper was more than an engineer now, Harper was the engineer in this big fancy special warship they had found on one of their adventures. Harper was something special, something important, and most definitely alone. Too much had happened and too much was going to happen and here was Harper, still this side of twenty five but still hurtling towards thirty.

Then he had jacked into her, he had entered her, he was inside of her, this big fancy warship that was technically not female and definitely not human and if she could experience love she probably had some pretty weird warship-related ideas about it.

But despite of her ideas of love, or lack thereof, he had fallen. And in true Harper fashion he had fallen hard. It was quick and it was obsessive, this idea of her, Andromeda, an Andromeda for himself. A body he would create for a mind he already loved, a never ending math equation of creation and imagination that was product of his skill and her consciousness. He would build her and she would love him, and then he wouldn't be alone.

It wouldn't've taken as long if he was a lesser man, a man of less intellect or undriven by this love, or this despair. Harper was still this side of twenty five but he was still hurtling towards thirty, and even though he had accomplished so much and had so many adventures he was the same as when he was a kid. Just a kid, all blonde hair and curious exuberance, all alone and with so much love to give and no one to give it to.

So he had worked through the night, those nights, with several empty cans of Sparky littering the floor and his goggles permanently etched on his face, his hair got dirty because he wasn't washing it but Harper wasn't one of those people who couldn't function with dirty hair.

So he worked and he drank Sparky and he didn't wash because this was bigger than all that, he was building his soulmate, his swan song, the greatest thing he could ever achieve. He would build her and she would love him.

And when he built her, she was wonderful. She was tall and dark and beautiful and oh so smart, the kind of knowledge he only wished he could've had, unbothered by the limitations of human mortality, and all that power. So much power.

Harper spent most of his life powerless, trying to scrape up one more rung on the ladder, and here he was, this side of twenty five but hurtling towards thirty, the engineer on a big fancy warship, and he had built her a body. A body he had built with all that care and love and thought had access to so much knowledge and so much power; if only she loved him he would have the universe in the palm of his hand.

So he waited for her to love him, as everyone else got used to her and she got used to her body, and he managed it for her with all that care and love, and sometimes he didn't sleep or wash because there was too much to be done. Andromeda was so big, and powerful, and fancy, and there was so much of her to love and care about. He managed her and took care of her and had built her a body, he had built her and now she could love him.

He waited and he waited and it never came, but Harper was older now and getting used to rejection, as he had figured he was one of those unhinged geniuses who was destined to be alone. Here he was, this side of twenty five, but it's not like he was hurtling towards thirty any faster than usual.

Here he was, and he had accomplished so much, so much more than if he had stayed behind on Earth, if he had never won those tickets, if he had never met Beka. And it had culminated in this so nothing else mattered, he had the biggest fanciest warship to take care of and love, and had built a living thinking thing, meshing his soul with Andromeda's and giving it life, and it didn't matter if she became something greater and left him alone.

He had built her, and he loved her.