The sun was barely shining through the sky when Iris went down to the kitchen. The trees outside, lightly turning deep shades of red and orange, couldn't stop the gentle rays of the sun from reaching her brown orbs.

She was hardly awake. She didn't exactly want to be. Carl woke at two in the morning, complaining—whimpering—about a pain in his chest. It was like he was in so much pain that he couldn't speak properly. Markus immediately called for an ambulance, and they took him to the nearest hospital. Carl told her and Markus not to bother coming. If anything was wrong the call goes straight to Markus' system anyway.

"Go back to sleep," her father said. Like it's that easy.

So here she was, at four in the morning, in her pj's that consist of short shorts and a tee, her hair up in the messiest bun imaginable, chain-smoking like her life depended on it on the breakfast nook. She hadn't moved in about an hour.

I should, Iris kept telling herself. Her knees were starting to burn from being bent on the edge of the windowsill. But still, she just couldn't bring herself to stand and actually move.

Another cigarette it is, then.

As she put the butt in her mouth and flicked her lighter, she looked over to the doorway where she could see movement. Markus. Iris took a small puff, lolling her head back so it could rest against the wall. Her eyes closed softly, waiting. Just waiting for something to happen.

Markus looked to her form, a messy contrast against the clean interior of her sacred space. His system scanned her and told him that she was feeling: A.) uneasy; B.) a heightened sense of anxiety; C.) worry; And d.) tension.

He didn't need any sensors to tell him that.

He flipped through his choices quickly, hoping to alleviate her tension in some way. She wouldn't be able to rest again. The two hours and thirteen minutes of sleep she got would not be enough for the whole day, but with her heightened emotions, it would do her no good to stew in it. She would be restless.

Markus decided quickly, taking the easier choice.

His arm grabbed at the refrigerator door and he grabbed two eggs, butter, cheddar cheese, ham, and spinach. Iris opened an eye at the noise, then furrowed her brow at him. Truth be told, she couldn't muster up the energy to speak, so she closed her eyes again and put the cigarette back up to her lips.

Markus grabbed a frying pan hanging above the stovetop and set it gently on the bottom left burner and set the flame to a medium heat. He then grabbed a knife, fork, and plate and cut a small slice of butter onto the pan. Iris listened to the soft sizzle of the butter melting, and her frown of confusion softened.

The android continued his ministrations quietly, the sounds coming only from the pan itself as he cracked the eggs and tossed in the ingredients for Iris' omelette. She opened her eyes and stared out, fixated on a browning leaf that drifted to the pavement of the mansion's driveway. Iris hated how peaceful the outside world could look while she stewed in her warbled mix of emotions. The wind blowed through leaves, calm, and here she was at her nook, puffing away with a hole in her chest. Iris only brought her attention back inside to Markus when he set the omelette gently down beside her with a fork.

"Thank you." She managed.

Markus nodded softly. "My pleasure." And he waited a beat before adding, "How are you feeling?"

She laughed hoarsely. "How do you think?" She shook her head, and smushed the rest of her cigarette out. "He tells me not to worry like it's a switch in my brain."

"He's worried about you just as you are about him." He told her. In a split-second decision he decided to rest beside her on the nook, taking little space so she could eat.

"I know. It's almost like we love each other or something." Iris smiled softly to herself. She grabbed the plate and cut a bit of her ham, cheese, and spinach omelette onto her fork. "I'm kind of dreading the call. I want to know, but I don't want to know, y'know?"

Markus chuckled softly. "Confliction is normal in a time of worry."

Iris nodded and readjusted her seat, dropping her legs off the nook so she could sit properly next to him as she devoured over half of her omelette in silence. "Are you? Worried?"

"Of course. I care for Carl. And for your mental health. You two are… symbiotic."

"It's always been the two us." She confessed. "My whole life, it's been him and me. Everyone comes and goes eventually. Friends, boyfriends, girlfriends. Leo, and his mother. But not dad. Even on his worst days, even when I lived in LA, he was there for me." She brought another forkful of egg up to her mouth, but couldn't take the bite. Her arm drooped, and her voice softened to a whisper. "I don't… I don't want to say goodbye yet." She set the plate beside her cigarette pack, silent as she stewed in her sorrow.

Iris tried to keep her voice level, tried to stay calm, but it wavered and a fucking tear escaped her eye. "I know it's gonna happen one day. It happens to everyone. But still, he's my rock and I'm his and I don't want to lose that. I don't…" She hiccupped and palmed away the wave of tears that managed to spill. Damn her emotions. Damn them all to hell. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to let this all out on you."

"It's what I'm here for." Markus said softly. Gently, he brought his hand to her face, cupping her cheek and resting his thumb just underneath her eye and wiped some of the wetness away. His touch lingered as he murmured, "Never apologize for feeling things so strongly. I find it one of your greatest traits."

Iris let out a weak smile, meeting his eyes. "You think so?"

He brushed his thumb a second time, and a third before nodding. "It's what makes you human. You feel emotions that I can only imagine. I'll never cry over worry, never feel joy at making a sculpture," Markus closed his eyes as he continued. "Never feel love."

"You sound jealous." Iris noted. Her tears had begun to stop as her breathing evened, and she was immensely thankful for Markus' company.

"If I could feel jealousy, I would." He shrugged, pulling his hand away. Iris immediately felt lonely at the loss of him against her. "I feel nothing. I just… am."

Iris' lip quirked upward, and she scooted closer to him. "That may be what you're programmed to say, but I don't think that's the truth." Her gaze lingered on his as he openly frowned. Iris' smile grew at his confusion and, relaxing, she rested his head against his shoulder. "There's more to you than just blue blood and wires, Markus."

His mouth let out a sigh at the contact. Though she couldn't see it, Iris could imagine his soft green eyes shutting at the warmth that spread through his system. That wasn't in his programming.

"It's not possible. I am a machine."

Who are you trying to convince?

"Whatever you say, Markus."

It was six o'clock when Iris decided to try and get something done with her day while she waited. She wouldn't make any cookies—she was all cookied out from the bake sale a couple months ago—and truth be told she didn't want to try making anything new. Baking makes her feel close to her mother. At this moment, she wanted to feel close to Carl. So, she set up shop in the studio, getting ready to make a clay whatever while Markus kept her company.

"Hmm, let's see." Iris hummed softly to herself. She searched through her assortment of clays, colored glazes, and already made designs, her mind wandering to figure out what she wanted to busy herself with. She had a couple small pots in the kiln, but those would take until noon to be finished, and another two days until it was ready for a glaze. Her little elephant was still in her un-glazed to-do shelf, right next to two cups and a funky winding vase.

"Vase, or ephelant?" Iris called over shoulder.

Markus answered, "Ephelant."

She let out a soft laugh as she grabbed the elephant off the shelf and set him on a table. Her fingers worked at a couple newspapers, opening the bundle and spreading them out over the top. Then her next stop was to her shelf of colored glazes.

"What color? Or colors?"

Markus answered quickly. "Elephants are naturally gray."

"Well, yeah, but it's just a sculpture, hon. It doesn't need to be realistic." Iris gestured over to him, beckoning him over to the shelf. "I could do gray, I have a couple shades of that, but how does that stand out against the other elephants? How does mine stand out in a crowd against another artist's?"

Iris could hear Markus behind her as she continued, "Each piece my father and I design are unique. They make us feel something. Happiness, curiosity, grief, wonder. How can I make that with just gray where people would assume it?"

When Markus was beside her Iris pointed out at the colors, a wide assortment that she was proud of. "What would you normally paint it, then? Orange?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "But orange won't make me feel anything with this piece." She chose her favorite colored glazes first, phthalo blue and cadmium yellow. The two worked together well, and the soft green it made when mixed was pretty.

"Phthalo green, too?" Iris asked aloud. Then she nodded to herself. "Phthalo green, too."

Her eyes wandered over to her father's station, unused, and she felt a stake in her chest. "I should use his favorite color, too."

A little nostalgic piece. Just for the two of them.

Iris moved a couple bottles around, checking the labels for Carl's favorite, alizarin crimson. He loved the soft, passionate red when it was swirled along a canvas. And when Iris mixed it with phthalo blue? The violet was striking.

Except, where was her alizarin?

"Markus," his name sounded like a question. "Do you see any alizarin crimson?"

He looked over the shelf and scanned all the bottles in less than ten seconds. "No. You have two batches of titanium white and half a bottle of Indian yellow, though."

"Shit." She muttered. "I must've not ordered it last time around." Iris checked the clock against the wall connecting the studio to the house. Six thirty. "Amaro's Pottery opens at eight. I should try to pop by and see if they have any in stock."

Markus' LED swirled in yellow as Iris set the other three glazes onto the table beside her precious ephelant. "They do. They have three bottles of it."

Iris fist pumped a hand in the air. "Yes! We'll pop by first thing. I should get ready for the day, then. Put on some Serious Adult clothes." She shrugged to herself. "And shower, probably. Want to walk in to town?"

"The fresh air may do you some good."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be back."

By the time she put on some black yoga pants, a pale blue long-sleeved shirt, and some black flats Iris was ready to head into town.

Well, almost ready.

She looked at her small jewelry box on her dresser and she found her hand opening the wooden top. The first necklace she saw she put on. It was a gift from her father when she turned eighteen. It was diamonds, all of it was diamonds. They were small in the back, and gained size as it came forward. It shaped down to a V in the front, with the biggest diamond at the base. Carl never told her how much it cost. Iris thought he was crazy when she got it, but her told her not to worry. "It shines as bright as your eyes," so no matter the price, he just had to get it.

Maybe he would never get the chance to tell her now.

Stop that, she chided. For all she knew he just had heartburn and they were keeping him for observation. With the hopeful thought in mind, Iris trotted down the stairs and she and Markus made her way down to Detroit. The Manfred's didn't live too close to the city so it was quite a trek.

The walk was long in the brisk air. It was only the second week in October but the air was chilly enough for Iris to wish she had a scarf on. She was happy for the change in pace, though. Complaining about the air hurting her face was a welcoming whine compared to her last couple hours.

The pair were lucky enough to reach the square with Amaro's Pottery and Bellini Paints at a little past nine. It was quiet, slowly being populated by the locals. The food trucks that were normally set up weren't in place yet, except for a churro one.

Mmmm, churros.

Iris' stomach betrayed her, portraying her thoughts with a grumble. She looked up to Markus apologetically. "I had pre-breakfast at four."

"Would you like a churro?" Markus asked, teasing.

Iris pressed her lips together, sucking them inward as she looked down. "… Maybe…"

Markus jerked his head over. "You go get a churro, then. I'll head down to the shop. How many bottles would you like?"

"One would be fine, but two is ideal."

"Two it is. I'll meet you outside the shop when you're done?"

Iris gave an affirmative nod and grinned when Markus walked past her. Churros. Delicious, warm, cinnamon-filled churros.

She sauntered up to the stand and ordered not one, but two, large churros. Iris kept to herself as she munched happily on one walking down the street, savoring the sweet taste. She couldn't remember the last time she had one. Maybe this dessert would be next on her list of things to try and make.

Iris worked through the list of ingredients in her head as she passed Bellini's Paints. Right in between Bellini and Amaro was a small alleyway, with a dead end and only a dumpster for the shops to share, where she pulled into and rested her back against the wall of Bellini Paints. She brought the second churro up to her mouth, the word, "Cinnamon!" flying in her head. Markus shouldn't be too long now. It only takes a second for android transactions to take; her account was connected to his system. With a blink of his eye the money would be transferred and all set.

"That's a pretty necklace you got there."

Iris whipped her head in to the alleyway, furrowing her brows as she searched for the maker of the sentence. It wasn't Markus, that's for sure. And certainly not the Amaro android. No, it came from someone behind the dumpster, standing now so she could barely see his hunched form. He was an older gentleman; graying hair that was shaggy, dirty rags that couldn't have protected him against the cold October air, and dirt and grime covering him like it was a layer of skin. Homeless.

"Thank you." Iris said, eyeing him cautiously. She took another bite of her churro, waiting to hear the chime of Amaro's bell, waiting until Markus came back and she and him could leave. She should have known that there would be homeless people out here. Of course she knew, she just hadn't seen them.

"How much is it?" He asked. His voice was gravelly and heavy, a stark contrast from Iris'. He took soft, slow steps as her eyes met his.

"It was a gift from my father." Iris kept her voice level. Her back straightened against the wall as he got closer. She tried to ignore the pounding of her heart as she added, "It's not for sale."

The stranger grinned maliciously. "I never asked if it was." Then he was in front her, his hand close to her neck as he flicked a small knife open, the point leveled at her chin.

Iris' eyes widened in fear, and she could hear her heart thumping in her ears. The remains of her churro fell to the ground as she took a step to the right, closer to the street. Her movements weren't fast enough, and the stranger's other hand grabbed roughly at her shoulder, pushing her back into place against the wall.

"Let. Me. Go." Iris muttered through clenched teeth. The man must have done this before, she noted, because he wasn't nervous in the slightest. It was like a dance to him as he brought the tip of the knife underneath the necklace, pushing it upward to himself so he could get a better look at it.

"Now, why would I do that, when I could just," he tugged at the necklace dangerously, almost to the point where it would break. "You know how much this damn thing could get me? People pay big money for diamonds a this size."

"Please just leave it alone." She begged. She hated how small her voice sounded. She never begged. "I'll give you money, I don't care, just leave it, please."

"Yeah, yeah." The stranger drawled, gripping her arm even tighter. He squeaked his voice as if to mimic Iris, "Daddy got me the necklace and it means the world to me! I'm rich and have fifty identical ones at home but please don't touch this one!" He rolled his eyes at her pathetic stance. "Please, sweetheart. Just give me the rocks and I let ya go in one piece. Capiche?"

"You will let her go. And she will be keeping the necklace."

Oh, thank god.

Markus was at the opening of the alleyway, a hand holding her bag of alizarin crimson glaze. His LED was set in red as he stared between Iris and the man. She'd never seen it in that color before. It was terrifying.

But still, Iris grinned. Androids can automatically send distress messages to the police, like a switch going off in their mechanical brains if they see any illegal or harmful activities, should their owners set them up. And of course she and her father did. This man will be fucked in about a minute or two.

"Get lost, tin can." The thief roared at Markus, releasing Iris' shoulder to swat at the air between them like he was swatting away a pesky fly. Markus' LED flashed in yellow for a moment before returning back to red. His hand set the bag to the ground. And he took a gracious step forward. "Didn't ya hear me, terminator? Get the fuck away."

Iris looked back to the man in front of her, smirking proudly. "He's not your android. He doesn't take orders from you."

The man's frowned in confusion, and Iris took a second of faith to grab his wrist, fling it downward and to the side so the knife was flung away from the stranger's hand, and she rushed her steps backward so there was a generous amount of space between her and him.

In the same moment, Markus marched right up to the thief, pushing his forearm straight onto the man's collarbone and up against the same spot where Iris was standing just seconds ago. The asshole pushed against Markus—even going as far as punching him in the face, which did not work (he did realize what material androids were made out of?)—before just slumping against the wall in defeat.

"Don't you ever. Touch her. Again." Markus gritted, his LED still flashing in red.

"Oh, bite me, RoboCop." The stranger spat. "You only care 'cuz she's the name on your contract."

Not even a second passed when Markus punched at the wall beside the stranger's head, the brick crumbling in the single spot. The thief jerked his head away from the dust of broken brick, coughing haphazardly. No idiotic remark this time. Iris yelped, covering her mouth with her hands at the unfiltered anger coming from her android. Markus continued pushing his arm further into the man, blocking him from taking a breath of air, and Iris' worry jumped.

She had never seen this from him before. And while she appreciated the swift response, she was hoping to never see it again. Markus was going to kill him if he didn't stop.

"Markus." Iris spoke softly. The ringing of the police car could be heard; it was close. "Please, let him go."

The LED wavered in color. The red spun once and yellow overtook. Good. Markus dropped his hand from the man's collarbone, bringing it to his side mechanically.

The thief took a great gulp of air, his arms immediately going to his throat to soothe himself.

"Take another step back from him." Iris hated talking to him like this. Like a machine, simply taking orders. Markus obliged; one step back. "Now pick up the bag from Amaro's Pottery."

Markus turned from the man and took slow steps to get to the bag. One hand dropped to pick it up. Iris internally sighed as the LED was in its soft blue again. Just like normal.

The police car pulled over in front of the store as Iris walked next to her android. The response was so fast it was a blur. The policemen cuffed the wannabe-thief, Iris relayed a statement, and then Markus did. She was sure this would land on the news in a matter of minutes. Famous Sculpture Almost Gets Mugged in Detroit: Protected by Father's Android. Iris was hoping her father wouldn't find out until he was back to normal. If he gets back to normal.

Iris figured that she had enough excitement for one day (even though it wasn't even noon,) and decided to grab the bus instead of trekking back in the cold. While her adrenaline was still pumping and she was warmer than expected, she couldn't muster enough energy for that long a walk. So, here she and Markus waited, her sitting on the bench as he stood by her side, still holding the bag of glaze.

"I can take that." Iris said softly. "And you can sit down, if you'd like." There was no one near them so he had plenty of room to relax. Her hand played with the jewels on her neck, thankful they were still there and in one piece.

"Are you going to command me to?" Markus asked bitterly. His grip on the bag tightened, like he didn't want to let it go.

She frowned and looked down to her feet, her flats kicking into the soft grass and leaves below her. "I didn't want to. You were going to kill him."

"No; I was holding him until proper emergency personnel came by. I was simply making his holding unpleasant."

"Well I didn't know that." She stared up at him hard. Was he really justifying his response? "All I know was you were angry and he couldn't breathe. And while he was an asshole who I'm glad will be doing time in a jail cell, the look in your eyes was terrifying. I didn't know what you were capable of in that moment."

"I was no such thing. I can't get angry."

Iris raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, now? The brick wall you did in may have some qualms about that statement."

"He was hurting you, alright?" Markus deflected. "My protocol kicked in and I made sure you were safe."

"Whatever you say, Markus." Iris resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her voice softened as she added, "Either way, thank you. I'm glad I have you."

He nodded softly. "I'm glad you're okay."

Iris noticed the mistake right away. Glad? I thought you couldn't feel glad, she inwardly teased. But she didn't bring it up; there was enough fighting and debates today already.

She checked the time on her phone. The bus would be there any minute. Which was good; all she wanted was the comfort of her own home and kitchen and studio.

The next time Iris looked up at Markus his LED was flashing in yellow. She furrowed her brow. It was a couple of minutes before he spoke again. "Good news." He took a seat beside her before continuing. "Your father is resting. They discovered a clogged artery in his heart with a CT scan and they are rushing to give him a stent when there's an open slot in the surgical unit. He will need more prescriptions and a new restrictive diet afterwards, but he should be okay. Full recovery expected."

Iris sighed happily. "Thank god."

The bus rolled up to the seats and the pair stood. "He will be taking visitors after his surgery today. The doctor said to expect him to be groggy, but he should be responsive."

Iris grinned at him. "Then I know what we're gonna do later today."

"Of course. He'll be happy to have you by his side."

She stepped up to the front of the bus when the doors opened with her eyes searching for two open seats, and she turned around to see if Markus was following her. He wasn't.

Right. Android. Androids go to the back of the bus.

Her heart dropped just a tad when she realized she would be sitting alone. Iris could see his figure as he stood in between an AX400 and an PL600 through the glass, and she stopped moving forward. Her feet twisted so she walked to the back of the bus, as close enough as she could to him. The seat right beside the glass was occupied by a mother and son duo, so Iris stood, her arm holding the pole when the bus began moving. If only they could stay together.

One day, maybe.