The room you're in is oddly antiquated for the era you live in. There are framed pictures on the walls--family photos featuring a young girl, an older woman, and a handsome man. In each photo, the man's face remains unchanging, as if he is frozen in time like the stopped clocks dotting the walls. There are puzzle pieces and props scattered around you; this is a game you're playing, an escape room. Within your chest rests conflicting emotions: irritation and fondness at war with each other. You don't want to be here, but at the same time, you can't help enjoying yourself. Because... if it's with her...
"Luke! I found it!"A young woman's eager voice calls out--it's coming from a hole in the floor, an opened trap door. You've been waiting impatiently for her signal--now, you jump down to join her.
Briefly, the two of you get derailed: You scold her for her recklessness, and she brushes you off, insisting that she's grown independent.
When you were away, life was hard on me, she says, cheerfully describing the incidents she's encountered since living alone. You know she's trying to reassure you, but guilt wraps around your heart and squeezes. You apologize for leaving her alone, and she says,
No need. It has nothing to do with you. That doesn't sting at all.
Part of your mind lingers on this as she combs through the clues. You don't really need to pay attention--you figured out the trick to the room with a brief glance, and the whole thing is a farce anyway. But she doesn't know that, so you indulge her as she eagerly combs through a journal.
"So Zero's master was called Merriweather. They were lovers!" She's eating the game's plot up, and you can't help but smile, watching her. Is it really so bad, suffering these indignities, if you can see her like this? "The calendar pictures keep a record of how they met, and the alarm clock pictures, their time together each day. Zero writes everything down by hand because he doesn't want to lose the memories to data malfunctions. How romantic..."
It's so stupid. You can't help but point out, "That makes no sense at all. As an android, it is capable of deep learning, but no amount of data and algorithms can create emotions, or love, for that matter. According to the Turing test--"
She glares at you. "Luke! Would it kill you to be a little more romantic?! There are lots of androids capable of love in the movies!"
You hold up your hands in surrender. "I'm just saying!"
You let it go, because you want her to have fun. But maybe you should've kept arguing with her, in hindsight--you should've known this set-up would be a targeted attack. You watch her face fall as she reads further.
"Not long after they accepted each other's love, Merriweather fell severely ill. The doctors said she had less than three years... Merriweather asked Zero to erase everything about them, including their love..."
Fucking Aaron. You're going to kill him.
Your gaze drops to the journal, and reluctantly, you read along with her. "As an android, Zero cannot disobey a direct order from its master. It wrote a virus to disrupt the memory deletion command, leaving clues for itself to try and recover its memories." You don't want to point it out--but you have to. "The letter we got telling us to give this to Zero was dated 2046, and this last entry is dated 2043. It's been three years, so Merriweather has..."
Vehemently, she cuts you off. "Maybe there have been advances in medicine! She could've gotten treatment!"
You don't have the heart to disagree with her. But you can't let her go down this path of false hope, either. Not when it would feel too much like indulging yourself. But you find yourself saying
he, not
it, like she is. "Even so," you say gently, "She doesn't have much time left. Otherwise, she would've come back for him, and he wouldn't still be without his memory of her now."
You watch as her face falls. She stares down at the journal, tightly gripping its pages, as if she can change the story through sheer willpower. "Why does it have to be this way...? Why couldn't she just let Zero be with her?"
Because Aaron is trying to prove a point to you, that's why. But you're an idiot, and she makes you weak, so you can't help answering her honestly. "She did it for Zero's happiness. This way, Zero could just start a new life. One of them can still have a happy ending... isn't that better than the alternative?"
You don't expect her to agree with you--but she argues with you with a fire you never expected. She hits you with hypotheticals that make your blood run cold, because you are, ultimately, a selfish hypocrite--you can't bear the thought of a life without her, even if a life without you is exactly what you want her to have.
"You wouldn't want me to keep things from you and disappear. So why would you ever think that's a good idea? Sure, you want the other person to be happy, but this is just selfish."
Maybe she's right. But... isn't that so much easier to say when it's about someone else? Knowledge can never be unlearned, and once she knows the truth about your lifespan, she'll never be able to look at you the same way. You can see her point, and the message Aaron is shoving in your face, but you aren't wholly convinced. So you smile, and change the subject, as you always do.
---
You win the game, because of course you do. It has a happy ending, because of course it does. When you get home, you're drained--but
a man is sitting on your couch like it's his own house, casually reading your books. He grins at you, utterly unrepentant.
"Back so late? I assume you had a good time."
You give him a flat look, brushing past him to put your things down. "My place is littered with security measures. It's not safe for you to come and go like this, Aaron."
"I wanted to give you a call first, but I didn't want to intrude." He's so full of shit. "Here--you better hang onto this."
He flicks something at you, and you catch it easily. You already know what it is, even without looking--you're the one who made it, after all. The delicate gems and fine gold band rest warmly in your palm. You knew he had it, because he's the one who stole your things to begin with, in the most obnoxious show of wingmanning of all time. You half-expected your prize at the end of the escape room to be a love letter forged in your handwriting.
"You didn't put it in the locker... that's not like you at all," you grumble, tucking the ring away in your pocket.
"I mean, you should at least do the marriage proposal yourself, right? But if you still plan on leaving her, I'll give her the ring and let you explain yourself directly."
You scowl at him. "Is that any way to treat your patient?"
He winks at you. "Call it my approach to therapy."
You go back and forth a little longer, after that. You remind him that he decided to be a doctor, not an agent. You
are indulging him, the man who needed the help of half your colleagues at the Bureau to kick off this stupid plan without your knowledge. He teases you a little more, but you both know this isn't the only reason he's here in person, and the mood can only stay light for so long.
"The physical exam schedule is on your desk. Go over it." He claps you on the shoulder, and you walk him to the door, making a mental note to reset your alarms after he's gone.
For all that he's a pain in the ass, you know that you owe him--not just for today. So, quietly, you say, "Aaron... hm... thanks."
He smiles at you warmly, with a hint of pity. You hate that look, but he's the only one who has the right to it. "I could save you back then, I can do it again. Just work with me, kid."
He leaves, and you toy with the ring in your pocket, lost in memory. You think on his words, and hers. And you make a decision. You never want her to struggle alone again. You've promised to stay by her side, no matter how she feels about you.
You always wanted to be a hero, and heroes keep their promises. It's time you try, too.
---
But things never go according to plan in the real world, do they?
Later, your knees hit the wet ground in a dark, dirty alley. Blinding pain wracks your body. Later, you feel the weight of eyes on your back, the whispers of those who didn't survive urging you to join them. You can't move your arm, you can't breathe, and you can barely hit the emergency button to summon Aaron to your location. It's all you can do to stay conscious, drowning as you are beneath the waves of agony, helplessness, and guilt.
Your phone lies on the ground in front of you, showing her name--an abruptly ended call.
You've always been a liar, after all. Keeping promises... what made you think you could start now?
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