Title: Inhumane

Rating: K+

Continuity: Movieverse

Characters: Agent Simmons

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Prompt: 6. Choose a prompt from ( . ) this master prompt list. Please indicate the date and prompt.

Prompt Chosen : August 25. 1. It'd be inhumane if they were human.

Agent Seymour Reginald Simmons liked his job. Working with aliens; every little boy's dream, and here he was, living it.

There were things, though, that he hesitated to even think about.

Those things the Cube made. The little ones.

Not all of them were killed.

He had seen the labs. Seen where they were strapped down and taken apart.

Had heard the cries, the cries that sounded so much like a child's, sounded so tortured, so filled with pain.

But he couldn't do anything. He was powerful, yes, but... the R&D department wasn't under his jurisdiction. He was one of the "Outside Agents." He handled cover-ups, handled nosy government officials, handled the President, handled things like that.

He didn't deal with the little mini-monsters.

Except for once or twice. Those times when he managed to sneak in.

At night, when the R&D department was shut down. If he was around, he'd sneak in and do what he could to end their misery. He'd slide his finger between parted chest plates, caress the little chamber of glittering light, then press down. Gently, so he didn't leave a mark, but hard enough to put out the light. He could see the gratefulness in the tiny optics. Hear their thanks in the quiet chirps.

Then, after, when their bodies were dark and still, he would sneak out of the room, creep to his office, and pretend he wasn't crying.

It was inhumane, what the scientists did.

Or it would be, if they were human.

Then, one night, there were new robots. They hadn't been touched yet, simply strapped down and their weapons disabled. They were squeaking fearfully, optics flickering between bright and dim...

And Agent Seymour Simmons knew he could do something about it.

He knew he wasn't the most loving of people. Knew he could be incredibly annoying. Knew that most other people hated him.

But he... he didn't like what they were doing to these creatures.

Deftly, he undid the straps, keeping a solid hold on the little body of the first robot. It cheeped fearfully, but didn't struggle. It had already learned that wasn't going to help, and, for a short moment, the agent allowed himself to despair. Something this young, even though it was just a robot, shouldn't have to learn something like that so young.

After the straps were pulled away, he lifted the little being to his chest and cradled it for a moment. Then he put it in his briefcase, patted it gently on the helm, and moved to the next one.

He took home five that night, some larger than others. The first had been tiny, the size of, perhaps, a cell phone? The other five got progressively larger.

That night, he didn't go to his office. He put himself on vacation, claiming that all the noises at night were getting to him, and went home.

. . .oOo.

The little bots stared with wide, bright optics as he cracked open his briefcase. Five of them. Five! What was he going to do with five robots?

"Come out," he said, smiling and backing away. "Come on..."

The first to peek its helm out was the largest. It was boxy, with heavier armor than the others. Another one peeked around it, cheeping curiously. This one was boxy too, but less so than the first. From the long, blade-like, shimmering spears that formed strange, fluttering wings, it was some sort of monitor.

The tiniest, the first he had taken out of its bindings, poked its helm out. It was so small, with armor that reminded the agent of a turtle's shell scooping over its back and two tiny red optics.

The two hiding behind the others gave impatient chirps and pushed, and all five came tumbling out.

The last two were of a medium size. One of them, the agent could see now, had computer keys plastered over its chest, the tiny pieces of modified plastic (for nothing that was brought alive with the Cube remained made of the same Earth materials) creating an ever-shifting layer of armor. The other had a screen-like chest plate.

All together, Simmons began to understand, and he couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "So that's where all the old computers went... You're the monitor," he said, pointing to the one with the fluttering, glass-like wings. "You're the tower." He pointed to the big, boxy one. "You're the mouse." The tiny one. "And you two are the speakers and the keyboard."

The five robots were looking at him curiously, blinking, twitching their helms.

Simmons sighed. "What have I gotten myself into?"