A/N: short one for now, to give you an idea of where his head is right now. We're leading up to what Vision's attack resulted in, which is a loose end, along with everything that he has to answer for in his wake.
Ultron Rebooted
Ultron had given up watching television about an hour after Ashley left him at the table and fallen asleep in her room. Their room, he thought with an arched brow. He had wondered briefly if she would want to resurrect any carnal relationship they had had with each other. From Nick's memories it had seemed a little bland, but he may not be a good one to judge. That being said, he did enjoy the reactions that particular part of his body gave him when he took a shower earlier…he would love to try it out with her and see if they could do better. She seemed attractive enough.
But the television killed any thoughts he had about exploring this new body and all it could do; all he saw on every news channel was himself and the destruction he had wrought. Even seeing images of Tony Stark at a press conference hurt. So he started switching through channels. But that reminded him of Vision's onslaught, and he had to walk away. He found himself in the garage and started going through things there. Ultron drug a large duffel bag through the doorway and pawed through it. He found gym equipment shoved in a corner, camping equipment in another, a few sparse tools and buckets of paint. Balls of various types for sports.
He craved the sensory experiences he had been denied as an AI. It seemed there was a vast difference in how he processed input now. He wondered at the feel and textures of things. The sound of the cat meowing to be let out, the kick of the air conditioning unit in the hallway, the smells of the meal Ashley had cooked for him. The blips and noises as he scanned through Nick's phone. It had apps and games aplenty, but it reminded him that he was locked out of the internet and all its vastness. He didn't know what to make of the music library Nick had stored on there; it was all angry and cacophonic, so that got abandoned as a bad job.
That was when he had moved to the kitchen, after setting down the phone. He wandered the house as quietly as he could, but wound up in the kitchen eating leftovers and poking through cabinets and drawers. The strong and subtle flavors of foods was indescribable. He ran the cold spaghetti over his tongue trying to discern each herb used in the bottled sauce. Then he opened the fridge and found all the ingredients for things, books on top of the fridge to give him ideas for meals to make and sample, and with that he started experimenting with what he could find on hand.
When she found him at last, he realized that she was suspicious and wrong-footed. The girl sensed that something was amiss about him, but fortunately due to the problems they had and his injuries, she could be fooled. For a time. He shoved the thought aside that she may realize what had happened, but "what are the odds," he muttered to himself.
He did need some way to occupy his time, something productive. Something more. Ultron knew through Nick's memories that he had employment as a soldier, that his leaders would want him back in his previous occupation. But that was too small a scope for what Ultron wanted. It did, however, give him an idea. In the breaking light of day, as Ashley slept on after the awkward discussion at midnight, he plucked Nick's keys off the rack by the door, traipsed into the garage, and going on sheer muscle memory, opened the door and drove away into the breezy morning.
He drove in silence in Nick's truck, enjoying the slow easy gait of the machine, noticing the low hum of the air conditioning and the thrum of the engine. After a while he lowered the windows and felt the vague tickle of his hair blowing in the breeze and savored it ghosting across his skin. He felt warmed by the sun coming through the windshield. Every one of his sense was constantly buzzing with the input of things humans took for granted. For Ultron they were all new experiences, and he reveled in every one.
Ultron flashed Nick's badge at the gate and drove onto the military post without incident. He knew, or remembered thanks to Nick's memories how to navigate the morass of tan buildings and large brick barracks. Starships, they called them. He chuckled as he guided the truck into a parking spot before yet another non-descript building. Though it was a Sunday, he knew there would be a guard posted for the boys billeted upstairs, but he could access his office quickly and easily enough. If anyone were to come by of course, he could play it off as Nick and make some off-handed comment about not being able to stay away. It didn't come to that though, and the CQ guard didn't come by on his rounds before Ultron accomplished what he needed to do. He slid a hand over the computer and felt the telltale crackle and buzz through the palm of his hand as neurons and nanites connected.
Somewhere in the depths of the closed network that the military used, he found a small base not too far away that had been mostly abandoned. He took no time in assigning himself there, and while he was at it, sent orders for equipment and materials to be sent there as well. Finally he printed out a copy of his new orders for transfer and the cargo manifests for everything he had ordered. It was time to get to work, and Ultron had a mission.