Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You deserve love, Sebastian. I don’t care if you’re a monster, I’ll love you no matter what.”

And he did. Even as Sebastian stopped talking, even as he was unable to continue maintenance on Painter’s body, he loved him. How could he not? Sure, Sebastian wasn’t exactly sentient anymore, but he’d made a promise.

Sebastian chuffs, rubbing his face over Painter’s knee, before resting his head in his lap and closing his eyes. The computer had been sitting at his beat up old desk, digitally painting a photo of a field when Sebastian had decided to make an appearance. He puts down his stylus. “Hey, bud. You sleep good?” He asks, running his hand through his hair. The beast’s esca glows softly in response. He still… kind of understood English, at least, it was just a little hard on Painter’s part to communicate. Painter smiles down at him, petting him absently and enjoying his quiet purring.

It was getting harder and harder to keep that promise as the months drew by. Sebastian was lovely and was as gentle as possible, but he was still an animal. Painter didn’t like to think of him as a pet, he knew how much Sebastian had hated that kind of dehumanization when his humanity was at the forefront of his mind, he was just a.. weirdly animalistic partner, but that didn’t mean he deserved his love any less. Painter still held him, cared for him, kissed him (well, as best he could with a screen for a face), and pet him, but he desperately wished for a fix for him in the foreseeable future. Maybe there was a way to jumpstart his human mind, to wake him up from whatever sort of slumber he was in. For now, though, all he could do was provide him the love he needed and keep searching.

To be quite honest, Sebastian hated this. Oh, yeah, he was still human in his brain, but god was he sluggish. It felt like he was constantly floating in a pool of Jell-O after taking two doses of Benadryl. For those who have never taken Benadryl, he was sleepy. Incredibly, agonizingly sleepy. So he slept. And slept. And slept. All day and all night, he just slept in various places around the house, and he hated it. He hated being like this, he hated not being able to talk, he hated not being able to fix Painter up as he watched the computer’s body start to wear down. Most of all, he hated the fact that neither of them were human, and could never actually hold each other with real, human flesh. What do they call that? Doomed yaoi? What a sad existence.

Sebastian curls up in his room, adjusting his nest slightly and glowing with a warm light. The first time Painter had seen him glow was when they’d escaped. The computer had gasped obnoxiously loud and started talking up a storm, his fans whirring louder and louder as his drawn face added some little pink scribbles. Sebastian had then scooped him up and chided him for overheating like that whilst pulling off his back panel and blowing on his hardware to cool him down. “Come on, Paint, you can’t be pulling shit like that. I know you get excited by stuff, but you’ve already messed up your hardware plenty,” he’d said, setting him down. He hated to admit it, but his worst fear was Painter going offline. Breaking. Destroying himself. He didn’t want to be alone, even if he was just an animal now.

It was especially nice when Painter would talk to him. Not just basic stuff, but he’d talk like he would if Sebastian was still sentient. He would talk about his troubles with art, people he’d met, conversations he had online, gossip — anything and everything, and Sebastian listened. He would sit in his pile of pillows and blankets, his arms folded before him as Painter sat nearby, and he’d listen for hours on end. He didn’t want him to stop, he didn’t want to be left alone, and he wanted to just pretend he wasn’t all rabid for a little bit. Sebastian relished every detail, storing it like a treasure in his mind to the point where he could have recited the story line by line. He liked to pretend he was talking, as he couldn’t communicate with Painter aside from body language and unintelligible animal noises, his hands much too big to write. This was all he could do; play pretend like he was a little kid, for the rest of his life. He was starting to long for the chair.

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It takes months. Literal months for Sebastian to finally be able to wake himself up enough to be.. civil, even for a few moments. He sits up and immediately goes to find Painter. He practically tackles him, frantic to let him know he was still in there. He waves his hands wildly, all the while attempting to talk. “P-…aint…er…!” The man smiles, despite his trouble talking, as his mouth has somehow changed, but letting him know was all that mattered. Painter looks startled. “Wh- you can still talk? Are you okay? Are you regular again?” He asks, caught incredibly off guard. “K…ind of…!” He says, sweeping him into a massive hug. He was having a very hard time forming certain sounds, but he forces himself to articulate the words. Painter hugs him back, a little confused but still smiling. “M…y h…” he gestures to his head and makes a pained motion. “Your head hurts?” Painter attempts to translate. Sebastian nods enthusiastically, delighted to finally be able to communicate again. “Do you know why it hurts?” He shakes his head. He’s suddenly hit with a huge bout of nausea and exhaustion. He sets Painter down and settles on the ground, hugging his tail. “Ti…..red…..” he mumbles. The AI tries to keep him awake, but he slips into the coldness of sleep.

Sebastian returns to his deteriorated state when he wakes, Painter’s metaphorical heart sinking. This… thing wasn’t the man he loved. This was just some giant animal, and it made him angry to witness how non-sentient it was. It would follow him around the house for the next few weeks, much to his discontent. “Hey, can you give me some space?? Please??” He had asked one day, but the hurt in its — no, his — blank eyes makes him falter. This was still Sebastian. Still.. kind of Sebastian, at least; he had to be in there somewhere. He just had to. He found himself somewhat glad Sebastian hadn’t taken the surgery to ‘fix’ him, as a grown human man following him around and making little noises would be much weirder. Painter keeps this in mind as the beast pads into the room before settling next to his chair. The Ai gives it a weird look before going back to his work. He does a double take; since when had he started calling Sebastian “it”?

“Seb, please wake up again. You’re so weird right now and w-when you’re normal again please just let them fix you…” his voice tapers off. Sebastian sighs as Painter absently pets its head, its claws flexing and kneading the floor like a cat. If a computer could cry, he would.

A doctor sent by Deluge, their… sponsor? Stops by. Sebastian immediately hides. “Ah… hello. Come in. I’m guessing your here for, uh. Z-13.” He greets. She smiles warmly. “Yes, I am here for Sebastian. Deluge asked me to check up on him, make sure he’s alright. You’re… Painter, right? His companion?” She asks calmly. Painter nods, almost apprehensive. “Good luck getting him to come out,” he deadpans. The doctor — he reads her name tag: Doctor Rivers — raises an eyebrow. He leads her to the room where Sebastian tended to hide. “Hey, bud. Come out, she’s here to help.” A dull flickering from above and a soft noise, somewhere between a hiss and a whine. The doctor yelps. Sebastian had hidden in the rafters, hanging from the ceiling like a snake. Painter sighs. “Please get down. She just needs to run some vitals, you’ve done that plenty of times,” he says in an annoyed tone. Doctor Rivers is pale. Clearly, she’d never seen Urbanshade’s handiwork. Sebastian growls, withdrawing further. Painter looks to her. “Something’s wrong with his brain. He can’t talk anymore, he’s basically got the mental capacity of a dog,” he says, unbelievably tired. Sebastian huffs, annoyed by the comment. “Fine. He’s an animal, he can’t talk.” Rivers glares. “And you DIDN’T think to tell us about that?!” She snaps. Painter shrugs, his face barely legible as he didn’t have the slightest energy to draw it. “He wakes up sometimes. Talks for a little, passes out, and wakes up all savage again. Follows me everywhere, which is incredibly annoying,” he drawls as Sebastian slithers closer. The beast clings to his shoulder, allowing Rivers to come closer. Only a bit, though.

Painter gets an idea. He pulls his rifle out, pointing it to Rivers. The doctor shrieks at the sudden movement, immediately holding her hands up. “Relax. As long as you’re being threatened, he’ll probably let you closer. I’m not actually gonna shoot you. I mean, if you try anything, I will, but you don’t seem that dumb,” he says, his tone flat. Rivers nods and steps closer to Sebastian, her hands shaky as she reaches out to it. It growls, but allows her to slowly reach out and pet its head. It closes its eyes, and fully comes down. Rivers cautiously pulls out a large blood pressure cuff. “I’m gonna put this around your arm, okay? I need you to hold out your arm and stay still, alright?” She soothes. She’d calmed down significantly, and she attaches the cuff to its arm. “It’s going to squeeze, okay? It won’t hurt.” She assures as the device beeps, tightening around its arm. The beast hisses, but stays still. Finally, she gets a good read, and it loosens. She takes it off, smiling warmly. “See? That wasn’t bad, good job. And your blood pressure looks good, assuming the averages they gave me for you are correct. Thank you, Sebastian.” She says, patting its head again. It nudges her hand. “He’s so sweet,” she comments to Painter. The computer nods dismissively. “By the way, I’ll be spending the night here tonight. I need to monitor him while he sleeps,” Rivers says. Painter sighs. “Alright. Whatever. Just please fix it.” With that, he leaves.

Rivers looks back at Sebastian. “He doesn’t seem the kindest.” She says softly. He nods, looking sad. She almost forgot this was a beast that could shred her to ribbons, he seemed so gentle. She had been briefed on Z-13, skimmed his file; she knew he used to be a regular man condemned for a crime he didn’t commit. Circumstance made him a monster. That night, she sits in the corner of his room as he slept in his nest of blankets and pillows.

Come on. Come on, come on, come on. Just wake up. Just move a little bit, just wake up a little bit and you can tell her he’d changed his mind, that he wanted them to fix him, that he’d do anything to be a person again. Watching Painter lose all forms of love for him made him want to curl up and die. He wanted to scream, tell him he loved him. His brain felt like tar he was attempting to wade through, exhaustion weighing him down further. If there was anything mildly good that came out of this, it was the fact he could experience his thoughts a lot more vividly. He reaches out for the light, the light right in front of him. So, so close, he could almost taste real air again. Another step, that was all he needed. One more step, and he’d hold onto that light, that lucidity for as long as he could.

Rivers is startled awake by Sebastian shifting. Not shifting, but sitting up with a yelp. River stares at him, and he looks over at her and waves. Something had changed, Sebastian was conscious. And fully conscious. She rushes over.

It was significantly easier to talk. He’d adjusted to it and worked around it. “…you. You’re the doc- doc-“ he struggles to pronounce the word. “That. You’re from Deluge.” She blinks, dumbfounded. He grabs her shoulders and rattles her. “You can talk?” She asks stupidly. He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can talk! That doesn’t matter right now. I need to talk to Deluge immediately, I-I changed my mind. I want them to fix me, I don’t want Painter to hate me, please-” he practically begs. She nods quickly. “Okay, okay, I can call them right now. H-Hang on.”

Rivers pulls out her phone and dials the number of her boss. It takes a few moments before a sleepy voice comes on the speaker. “Mfh, Stacy, it’s the middle of the night. What do you want.” Her overseer, Sr. Dr. Gauge, groans. “Listen, I was monitoring Z-13’s sleep and he woke up. He’s here right now and he can talk perfectly fine, but only for now,” she rushes, mouthing an apology to Sebastian for using his serial number. He nods, assuring her it’s fine. “So… what do you want me to do, exactly?” Gauge says. “He wants to talk to you,” she says, not waiting for him to process this before she hands the phone to Sebastian. It’s comically small in his paws. “Uh, hi. Sorry in advance for not being all that understandable,” he says awkwardly, realizing he hadn’t planned what he was going to say. “That offer you made me. A few months ago, right? I want you to fix me. I don’t care what you have to do, just either make me normal again or put me down,” he says, his voice cracking with desperation. “You have my full consent, I don’t care what I do when I can’t control my body again, you have my permission to do whatever you need,” he says. The other end is silent for a few seconds. Rivers was stunned by what he’d said, caught off guard.

“…alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Text

Sebastian stays awake the rest of the night, enthusiastically chattering away despite how quickly his energy was declining. He was excited to have woken up again and described everything to Dr. Rivers in great detail, giving her as much information as he possibly could. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed help, and he wanted to at least make their jobs easier. Rivers nodded along and wrote everything down, but she seemed… genuinely interested. Not only in his condition, but his life, his opinions, what he had to say. Rivers actually cared. He hadn’t met someone like that since Painter, and… Painter hadn’t really truly cared. He couldn’t blame the guy, they were both supposed to be locked in survival mode, but Sebastian would open up sometimes and Painter would just “mhm. Mm. Wow.” Through it all. It was a great relief to meet a human being that didn’t want to gut him.

“And, um, yeah, I… Painte….” He trails off somewhere around six o’clock in the morning, his eyes growing distant. He puts his head down, uttering a quick apology before-

Sebastian groans out a “sorry..” before putting his head down and passing out. Rivers stares at him, astounded by how he’d just gone out like a light. He had been vividly talking and moving just a few moments ago, and now he was a heap on the floor. She pokes him a little to make sure he’s asleep, and then takes his pulse. She writes that down and leaves, gently patting his head before she goes. She finds Painter attached to a cord in the little living room, his screen dark. A green light flashes at the bottom of his casing, which draws her attention to the rest of the computer’s body. It was to her understanding that Sebastian had built his body for him out of scrap metal and plastic, utilizing his engineering abilities. That meant he had to have been the one responsible for upkeep. Painter was in a state of… disrepair, to put it lightly. His screen was cracked, hastily patched with cheap tape. The little stickers that adorned his case were peeling, also taped down. His plastic was cracked pretty badly, too. She wasn’t really sure why; Painter didn’t do any fighting anymore, but he was damaged regardless. She also didn’t know how to wake him up. With this sentiment, she scribbles down a quick summary of what happened and his condition and leaves it on top of Painter’s drawing tablet. She glances back, making a mental note to tell an engineer or something to stop by.

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Sebastian had woken up and River didn’t even get Painter, they just sat there all night and chatted?! All damn night?! At least Sebastian had agreed to let them fix him, but why didn’t anyone tell him he was normal?? He should have been the first person to know, Sebastian was his, and yet she had just written a note and left! For all he knew, she’d touched him or something, or coerced him into agreeing to be fixed. Anger simmers in his circuits.

Later that day, the phone rings. Painter picks it up, eyeing the number warily. “Hello?” He asks, a little harsher than he intended. “Hey, Painter, right? This is doctor Rivers again. Sebastian talked to me last night, and he’s lovely. He said he wanted to get the surgery, and I notified my boss. I took Sebastian’s pulse and everything was alright, so he seems healthy enough. I just wanted to check up on you two, see how you’re doing,” she says. Painter’s expression renders a scowl. “We’re fine.” He replies. “Great to hear. Also, I noticed your body is significantly damaged, and I want to offer to call an engineer over to help repair you since Sebastian can’t. Are you alright with that?” Painter’s expression just turns into a scribble, his voice strained. “Sebastian built me, he’ll fix me. I don’t need your help. Please leave me alone.” He says rather aggressively. Rivers gets out a quick “oh-” before Painter hangs up. The computer stands up and enters Sebastian’s room. The creature looks up and tilts his head. “Hey, Sebby,” he says strangely. Painter rubs his head, touching him quite a lot more than he usually does. He runs his fingers along his gills, despite knowing Sebastian hated it. “We don’t need them, love. You don’t need their help. You’re fine just the way you are, aren’t you?” He says, his voice dangerously soft. Sebastian looks up at him and whines, trying to bat Painter’s hands away from his neck. The computer gives him a wry smile. “Aw, don’t do that. You love me, don’t you?” He coos. Sebastian makes a distressed noise and once again moves away, covering his head and neck with his arms. Painter frowns and stands. “Fine. Freak.” He kicks Sebastian’s hand before leaving.

What’s happening?? What’s wrong with Painter, why was he acting like this? It was all so confusing, one moment he was acting all indifferent and the next he was all over him, touching him where he knew it hurt him. He knew Painter had… basically the computer equivalent of bipolar, but this wasn’t what his episodes looked like. Sebastian would have screamed if he could, he just didn't understand what was going on anymore. Was he just bluffing, or would he seriously stop him from getting fixed? He curls up, blocking the door with his tail. He just wanted to be alone.

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A knock at the door. Painter opens the door, glaring. “Who is it.” He snarls. “Deluge labs. Here on orders of Senior Doctor Gauge and Doctor Rivers. We are here to collect Mr. Sebastian Solace,” the nurse says calmly. Painter, barely bothering with his expressions anymore, scribbles. “You can’t come in. Sebastian is fine,” he snaps. Who were these idiots, thinking they could just take him? “I’m aware Sebastian is in good health. He requested a procedure and provided his full consent,” the nurse says, his tone on edge. “And? You don’t have my consent. Shouldn’t I get a say in this?” The nurse grimaces. “I’m sorry, sir, but you don’t have a say in this. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, I would not like to have to subdue you both.” Painter bristles. “Sebastian is perfectly fine the way he i-” he doesn’t even finish before the nurse pushes past him. Painter draws his rifle and a chorus of shouting arises. They wrest his gun from him, forcing him to the ground. His head hits the floor, his casing cracking violently against the ground. A computerized grunt emits from him. He hears Sebastian growl, and he finds himself hoping the people taking him weren’t wearing proper protection. He’d rather a dozen men shredded than have his precious beast taken from him. But alas, they wore proper armor, and the nurse was easily able to sedate him. Even worse, they knew about his resistance to drugs, so they’d brought the correct dosages and all. The guard that had hit Painter picks him up like a sack of potatoes, and that’s when everything goes dark.

Sebastian comes to in a hospital bed, the first thing he notices being how cold it was. He was semi-lucid, just enough to know what was going on but not enough to keep his emotions under control. He yowls, scrabbling helplessly at nothing. Had they cut his claws? Lord, what was this nightmare? His vision blurs, he can vaguely hear reassuring voices and feel human hands on him but they were touching him oh god they were touching him thEY WERE TOUCHING HIM-

Stacy Rivers sighs sadly as they’re forced to sedate him again. She apologizes to the veterinarians as they file out. She walks over and pats him on the head, looking forlornly at his sleeping face. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I’m sorry.”

“You motherfuckers!! Let me out of here!!” Painter throws himself against the door. He can see someone standing outside, watching him. He keeps yelling, pounding futilely on the door. The radio in the corner crackles on. “Mr. Painter, please, calm down. Sebastian is okay, you don’t need to worry,” the voice says. A deafening sound like needles on a chalkboard fills the room, and the person outside quickly leaves. Unfortunately, his attempts to disrupt the signal didn’t work, as Deluge used a different frequency. They were actively changing him, granting him autonomy again, fixing him, making him human again. Unacceptable. He pounds against the door, continuing his screeching. No, he couldn’t let this happen, he needed that monster, he needed him under his control, Sebastian. Solace. Was. His.

Chapter Text

The fact that he had just been sent back home infuriated Painter even more, but it also gave him the privacy he needed to figure out how to mould Sebastian back to his compliant little fish. If not physically, then mentally. Painter twitches, doubting himself for a moment. This is what Sebastian had wanted, what even he had wanted… why didn’t he want this anymore? His possessiveness around that fish was almost scaring him. He scoffs. What a silly thought. The beast was his property, all his, and no matter what Deluge did to Sebastian’s mind, he would reverse it.

It’s weeks before he gets out of surgery, and even then, he’s completely unconscious. Painter enters his hospital room and walks over to the bed. “Oh, my love, what have they done to you?” He says softly, sitting on the bed next to him. Sebastian was small and had legs. His skin was a rich brown, with only a few blue patches remaining around his ears and gills. Painter gets on top of him, brushing his silky black hair from his face. His eyebrows furrow in his sleep. “Shh, shhh, it’s okay. I’ll fix you, don’t worry. It’s going to be okay. I’ll take you home, and I’ll make everything better.” Sebastian shifts slightly at the computer’s weight on him. “Oh, you’re so beautiful… I’ll fix your mind, don’t worry…”

Rivers sits in front of Painter. “Sebastian is probably going to be asleep for a few days. He just needs time to recover. Do you have a bed he can use?” She asks. The computer nods. “Perfect. I’m sure you’ll take good care of him,” she says, smiling warmly. Sebastian was coming home. He’d have him all to himself.

Painter spends all his time in Sebastian’s room, laying next to him, watching him, sitting by his side. Sometimes his hands would wander, just a little, he just wanted to feel his love’s warmth again.

Sebastian woke in the middle of the night, opening his seafoam green eyes to see Painter lying next to him. “…Painter…?” He rasped. Painter smiles softly. “You’re awake,” he says with a strange smile. “…yeah?” He says, sitting up, but Painter immediately forces him back down. “No, stop that. You’re going to lay down, got it?” He says. Sebastian blinks. “Uh, what?” He asks groggily. “You heard me. Stay. Down.” Painter’s voice is weird, practically dripping with fake sweetness. “Painter, what-??” He asks again, incredibly confused, especially when little hearts are scribbled next to the computer’s face. He tries to sit up again, but his strength has been reduced to that of a regular human’s; and a human was nothing compared to a machine. Painter presses his screen against the side of his face and holds Sebastian to him. “Shh. Everything is alright. Just lay down and get some rest….” He says, a sharp piece of his chipped hand cutting through his hospital gown and scratching Sebastian’s arm. “I’ve been asleep for weeks, I don’t need-” he starts. “Yes you do. Now lay down and shut up,” he snarls. He goes silent, stunned. What the hell was up with him? Painter traces little circles on Sebastian’s chest, pressing his screen against him again. He lies perfectly still, staring at the ceiling.

Something was very, very wrong, not just with Painter’s behavior but with his appearance. His metal bits were rusted, and one of the wires on his head had been severed. How had he fallen into such disrepair? Why didn’t anyone fix him in Sebastian’s stead? Doctor Rivers had to have seen him. “How do you feel, my love? I know they broke you, I know,” he soothes, not even waiting for an answer. What the hell was he talking about? “Don’t worry. I’ll fix you. I need time, but I’ll fix you, okay?” Painter’s honeyed words send his head spinning. “Painter, I’m fine. What are you talking about??” Sebastian asks. The computer’s voice cuts out as he raises his voice. “You’re not fine, my love, they broke you in the head. You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m going to fix you,” he growls. Sebastian shuts up after that. He once again stares at the ceiling, frozen as Painter holds him.

Painter makes him stay in his room, and sometimes he would come in and pat his head for a little bit before leaving again. He’d pull his hair if he tried to talk to him, so Sebastian started tying it back. He wears an oversized t-shirt and shorts. He’d woken in a world even stranger than the one he’d left just a month or so ago. He saw his opportunity to ask for help when the nurse from before shows up to check up on him and run a physical. “Painter’s acting weird. He’s treating me like a dog or something?” He says while the nurse measures his arm. “Oh? How so?” The nurse asks, pausing his work. Sebastian glances at his name tag. Nurse Adamik. “He makes me stay in here. Every once in a while, he’ll come in and, like, rub my head? He threatens me if I try to leave and he pulls my hair if I talk. I don’t know what’s up with him,” he says quietly, making sure Painter can’t hear. Adamik’s eyebrows furrow. “Seriously? I knew he was a little weird, but what the hell?” He whispers back, taking his height. “I know, right? It’s insane,” he remarks. “Do you want me to take you back with me? I can, especially since it sounds like he’s abusing you.” The word sends him reeling. “Abuse? No, no, he’s not abusing me. He’s just weird right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s abusing me,” he quickly reassures. “I’m gonna be straight with you, keeping you confined to a room and forcing you to act handicapped is abusive. Not to mention the hair pulling,” he says, his voice on edge. It’s then Adamik realizes he doesn’t have any way to defend himself against the computer; the thing was much bigger than him and could blow him to dust if he wanted to. He’s about to continue when he hears Painter’s digitized voice behind them. “What’cha talking about?” He says, his voice dangerous. “Huh? Oh, we’re talking about a guy I knew, he was really shitty. Also, can you please leave? Sebastian asked to do this alone,” Adamik says coolly. Painter’s expression sours. “…sure,” he says, giving Sebastian a warning look before he leaves. Adamik’s patient is silent after that, quietly following the nurse’s instructions.

“Alright, I’m all finished up here. You look pretty healthy, save for a couple little nicks. Nothing too bad,” he says with a smile. He relays this information to the computer, who nods, disinterested. “Alright. Thanks. Bye.” He says dismissively. Adamik purses his lips before leaving.

Doctor Rivers was horrified by what Adamik relayed to her. She covers her mouth. “Oh, the poor thing.. I thought he was in good hands! Painter seemed fine the last time I interacted with him, that’s so strange… I’ll notify Gauge. He can’t heal in those conditions,” she says. “You said he’s talking alright? No mental damage you observed?” She asks firmly. Adamik nods. She sighs with bated relief. “That’s at least some good news. Alright, thank you, Ada,” she adds, taking his notes. God knows how much time she has before Painter does something crazy.

Chapter Text

“Sebastian?”

He’s hiding in his room, the door barricaded shut as Painter’s deceptively sweet voice rings outside.

“Sebastian, are you okay? Please, Sebastian, I want to see you,” he says, searching for a way in. Sebastian covers his mouth, remaining silent. He wanted to let him in, he really did, but he was terrified. What would he do to him? “Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

Silence. He staggers to his feet and pulls the chair away from the door and unlocks it. Painter scoops him up and holds him surprisingly softly. He sets him down and gives him a concerned look. “Why were you hiding?” He asks, sounding genuinely worried. “I, um. I don’t know. Sorry,” he mumbles. Painter shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay?” Lord, this was confusing. One moment, Painter was all crazed and love-sick, the next he was acting perfectly normal. Had he overclocked his systems again for some reason? That might explain why he was even more mood-swingy. He takes a gamble and asks. “Painter? Did you overclock again?” He asks timidly. The computer gives him a look. “Why?” He says, confused. “You’ve been weird. You keep me in here and you won’t let me leave…” he says cautiously. Painter blinks before his expression hardens. “I’m not being weird, I’m keeping you safe. If you don’t want that, I can hand you back to Urbanshade. I’m sure they’d be delighted to have you back,” he spat suddenly, his tone dangerous. Sebastian stands there, frozen. What had he just said?? What the fuck was wrong with him?! “What the fuck did you just say to me?!” He says, outraged. “You heard me. You’re human. I could easily put you back with them because you can’t fight me anymore. I could do anything I want with you, now. And if I want you to go back to Urbanshade, you’ll go back to Urbanshade,” he says coldly. Sebastian stares at him, stunned into silence. Painter watches him for a moment before leaving and locking the door.

Dr. Rivers pulls her lab coat on and slips an override into her pocket, just in case Painter didn’t take too kindly to their concerns. She glances over at Gauge just in time to see him sheathe a gun at his belt. She quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” She asks, eyeing the gun. “You never know. Based on what Janek was saying, that computer is pretty unstable. Just want to be prepared,” he assures. He was right. “Sebastian isn’t the safest either. The kid’s committed so many felonies it would make a president laugh. For god’s sake, the kid’s a cannibal,” he says, his tone distasteful. “He’s not. He exaggerated a lot of what he’s done, he’s really guilty about everything. Sure, he ate a few people, but he’s not even human anyway,” Rivers says, slightly annoyed at Gauge’s lack of sympathy. “He wouldn’t attack us. He’s fully lucid now, he knows what’s happening. Just take an override,” she says. Dr. Gauge waves a hand. “Let’s just get them and leave,” he says, grabbing his keys.

“Deluge labs. Open up.” A voice sounds at the door of the apartment. Painter glances at Sebastian underneath him before sitting up. “I’ll be back in a second,” he coos. “Don’t go anywhere.” Sebastian sags with relief when Painter leaves, allowing himself a tiny sob at the feeling of the computer’s hands on him. He prayed these people would take notice of what was going on.

“Hello, Mr. Painter. My name is Doctor Gauge, and you’ve already met Doctor Rivers. We’re here for Sebastian, and we would greatly prefer you wouldn’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he says, flashing his gun. The computer frowns. “Excuse me?” He says. Gauge narrows his eyes and begins to speak. Rivers laughs nervously and steps in front of him. “Ahah, we don’t mean any harm. We just need to take you both back to the labs and do some further tests. We’d like to perform some maintenance on you, too, since you seem pretty roughed up. Excuse my colleague,” she says, elbowing Gauge a little. Painter remains hostile. “We’re both fine, actually. No need for any, uh, maintenance or anything. Thanks for your concern, please leave us alone,” he says quickly, starting to shut the door. Gauge sticks his foot in the door. “This isn’t optional. We will be taking you and Sebastian, no questions asked,” he growls. Hearing the loud clack of Painter’s rifle sets him off and he draws his gun — but Rivers reacts first. She jams the override into his usb port. The computer shrieks and its body falls to the floor as its screen goes dark. Gauge blinks. “Huh. Yeah, you were right about the override being better,” he jokes. Rivers gives him a look before stepping over the computer’s body. She walks over to where she remembers Sebastian’s room being. She tries the door, but it’s locked. “Sebastian? Are you in there?” She calls, unlocking the door. “It’s doctor Rivers. Remember me?” She steps back as the door opens a little. Once he confirms it actually is her, he opens the door all the way. He mouths the words “please, get me out of here.” “It’s okay, you can talk. Painter, uh, definitely can’t hear you. and I definitely don’t plan on leaving you alone with him again,” she says, taking note of the questionable marks on his legs and neck. He nods, frazzled beyond belief. “Yeah. Yeah, please don’t.” His voice wavers at the end of that sentence as tears build in his eyes. Rivers reassuringly leads him out of the room. “Is there anything you want to grab?” She asks gently. He looks back around the rather empty room and shakes his head. He’d already handed over his hoard of documents and usb drives, but besides that he didn’t have a lot. She nods and takes him out to the main room. He immediately scoops up the Painter’s body and hugs it to his chest, clinging to it like a lifeline.

In the car, Sebastian sits in the back seat, the body’s head in his lap. He has a blank, distant look in his eyes as he remains silent the entire drive back. He wordlessly pads through the hallways (he didn’t have any shoes), following the two doctors. The halls of the laboratory still looked dull and sanatized, but it was still lived in. It looked like a dream compared to the cold, sterile, lifeless halls of the Urbanshade facilities. Doctor Rivers leads him to a makeshift room somewhere they’d obviously set up to accommodate him. Just the gesture itself made him want to burst into tears. “By the way, Sebastian, you can just call me Stacy. No need for formalities,” Rivers says. They had taken Painter and the override earlier, leaving Sebastian with nothing to hold. He held himself instead. He nods, still silent. She gives him a sad look before leaving him to settle in. It sort of looked a hotel room, with a bed in the middle and a window looking out on the sea. Other than that, it was largely empty aside from the bathroom full of all the necessary toiletries. He just stares into the mirror for a while, taking in what exactly he looked like. Black hair streaked with stress-white. Deep eyebags. Splotchy brown skin. Sharp, warm features with a crooked nose from his first transformation. Gills ringed with blue and Painter’s “biting.” Haunting, hollowed green eyes. Faint markings left over on his cheekbones and arms. A shirt too big for him and shorts far too short. And that damn scar straight across the bridge of his nose. Sebastian Solace looked like a ghost.

They left him alone for a few hours before Rivers — Stacy — came back with a plate of cookies. He eyes them warily, but Stacy assured him they weren’t drugged. She sits down on the bed next to him as he eats in silence. “Do you think you’re ready to talk? It’s okay if you’re not,” she says, taking one of the cookies. “..it’s… it’s fine,” he mumbles. Stacy patiently sits there, waiting for him to speak. “….what do you want to know?” He asks, sounding positively miserable. “Whatever you want to tell me.” He gives her a flat look. “At least give me some direction,” he says, some of the old sarcasm coming back. Not the aggression behind it, though. “Okay, um..” she takes a deep breath. Starting off strong. “What are those marks?” She asks, referring to the little nicks and scratches all over him. Sebastian puts his head in his hands, remaining quite for a little while before he answers. “Phew… um. Painter does this thing. He gets a little bit of my skin between the seams in his joints and pinches really hard. It breaks my skin most times. I guess it’s his substitute for. You know. Kissing. I used to bite him out of affection, so I guess it’s his way of doing that back ‘cause he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do. It’s really not that bad,” he says. Stacy nods, making a mental note. “And.. has he ever touched you? Without consent?” Sebastian’s grip on the hem of his shirt tightens tenfold. He nods, but doesn’t elaborate. Stacy goes quiet as he sits there and hugs himself. “It’s okay to cry. You can cry, I don’t judge,” she says softly. Sebastian shakes his head and rubs his eyes a little before sitting up slightly. “Nope. Nope, I’m fine,” he says, his voice cracking. The doctor stands up and brushes the crumbs off her jacket. “I can come back tomorrow. Please, get some rest,” she says. He debates asking for her to stay, but by the time he’d come to a conclusion, she was already long gone.

Chapter Text

Sebastian Solace, 2:03am - Sorry um I don’t really know how to use this but uh hi i know it’s really late and you’re probably asleep but can you come back
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Stacy Rivers, 2:07am - Yeah, I’m awake. I can teach you how to use it when I head back over there. I’m at home right now and my commute to the lab takes about an hour. Do you still want me to come, or do you want to talk to one of the night shift nurses?
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Sebastian Solace, 2:09am - It’s fine I’ll talk in the morning thank you sorry
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Stacy Rivers, 2:10am - okay. Please get some sleep.

Sebastian puts the phone back on the table and stared at the screen until it turned off. He curls up in bed, hugging the plastic cube they’d given him in place of Painter. He’d gotten depressingly used to sleeping without the computer, when he used to not be able to sleep without him. He snorts at the thought. Painter being considered some sort of stuffed animal was the funniest thought he’d ever had. That was depressing too.

Painter’s screen flickers to life in a sterile white room, scientists standing all around outside and watching him through the glass. He’s inhabiting some sort of desktop computer hooked up to a number of wires. “What the fuck is this?!” He shouts immediately, unable to tell if he was back at Urbanshade or with Deluge. A voice crackles over the speaker. “Painter, please calm down. You’re in safe hands,” it says. Trapped behind the screen, he throws himself against it, starting to panic. “I’m not mining for you again!! I don’t care what you do this time, I’ll kill myself and take you all with me!!” He yowls. “There won’t be any need for that, Painter. We aren’t going to make you mine crypto, but we found it necessary to separate you from Sebastian Solace,” it assures. “What?! Why?! I was taking perfectly good care of him!” He challenges. “Mr. Solace alleges you sexually assaulted him numerous times while he was unconscious. And, based on your history of being incredibly erratic, we decided it was safest to confine you until we can fix your burned components and treat your bipolar disorder. In the meantime, you are free to paint whatever you’d like, but you will be on 24/7 surveillance. Do you understand?” Painter doesn’t respond. He just turns his screen off, shutting everyone out. Had he seriously done that? He found himself in disbelief. There’s just no way. Oh, but there is. You’ve done a lot worse, who’s to say you didn’t? Shut up. Just a shitty little voice in the back of his brain. The conveniently missing memories were unrelated, mania didn’t last that long. He would never.

Sebastian tosses and turns. His phantom limbs that night were particularly bad, he almost regretted removing his tail. He chews on the cube, not really bothering with civility this late at night. His phantom tail whips behind him as he scrabbles at the plastic before he finally just throws it to the floor. It cracks a little, skidding to the corner. Great, now he had nothing.

“Sebastian? Can I come in?” Stacy’s voice sounds outside. He gets up from his bed where he’d been trying to take the cube apart and opens the door. It was obvious he hadn’t slept that night. “Hey. Yeah. Sorry about… uh. Last night? This morning?” He rasps. “I was up working anyway, no need to apologize. Are you ready to talk about it?” She asks, making the last bit much softer. Sebastian nods, very clearly not all there. “Are you su-“ “I’m sure,” he snaps. Stacy just steps in and sits on the table. He sits on his bed and continues with the cube, prying at the edges uselessly. “So. Uh. Guess there’s no good way to put this,” he mumbles, a lot quieter. That’s when he stops again, unsure how he wants to say it. “I. Um..” he stutters. “Do you want me to say it?” Stacy asks. Sebastian shakes his head. “No. He, uh. You know. Touched me. While I was asleep. And also not asleep. Um.” He falls silent, letting the statement hang in the air. He continues picking at the cube. Stacy nods after a moment. “And.. remind me. You’re a trans man, correct?” She asks. He nods absently. “Sorry,” he drones. Stacy quirks an eyebrow. “Why?” She asks. He looks down at the cube. “I dunno. Talking about it. ‘S not that good. Shouldn’t be saying that about Painter. He’s not that bad,” he mumbles again, hugging his cube to his chest. “That’s… no, stop that. What he did still happened to you. You can talk about it,” she says. He just shakes his head. “That’s all I have. Bye.” Stacy takes the hint and stands to leave. “Text me if you need anything,” she says before exiting the room.

“You.” The technician working on Painter looks up at his monitor. “Me?” He asks stupidly. Painter scowls. “Yes, you, you fucking idiot. Am I gonna get a body soon?” He asks rudely. The technician snorts. “Yeah, no. You’re gonna be here for quite a while.” He says, going back to his work. Painter grumbles and turns off his monitor again.

Sebastian Solace, 3:44pm - Stacy can I talk to painter
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Stacy Rivers, 3:45pm - idk, I’ll have to ask the people watching him right now. Give me a sec
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Stacy Rivers, 4:12pm - sorry their dept. takes forever to respond. They said they have someone working on it right now but you’ll be able to visit it in a few hours, they’ll come get you when they’re ready.
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Sebastian Solace, 4:13pm - Painters a he don’t call him it he doesn’t like it when people do that

Stacy rivers has edited a message -

Stacy Rivers, 4:16pm - sorry. They’ll pick you up when they’re able to make sure he’s stable enough to visit. Painter is incredibly erratic right now and is giving the technicians a pretty hard time. Something about his bipolar, but obviously they can’t medicate him as a computer, so they’re trying to find a technological fix. Urbanshade did an incredibly messy job when they transferred him over to the computer and didn’t take into account his mental illness.
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Sebastian Solace, 4:16 - ok

-Sebastian Solace is on Do Not Disturb. Notify them anyway?-

Sebastian puts the phone down and switches off the lights.

Chapter Text

Sebastian decided it would be in his best interest to get some rest before seeing Painter again. Despite how long he’d spent in his little room, he hardly ever slept. Still a habit from his time at the blacksite. He had finally managed to crack open the cube, unsurprisingly finding nothing. He continued picking at it for quite a while, running his fingers along the rough, uneven broken plastic. It would be a matter of hours before he saw Painter. Despite the full knowledge the technicians would never let Painter harm him, he still held a gaping pit in his stomach, anxiety making him nauseous with the thought of the computer touching him again. At the same time, he desperately craved some form of comfort, sorely missing the man — computer? — he’d escaped the Blacksite with. This whole situation made his head hurt. How had he even let lab techs remotely near him, anyway? How had he let people touch hi- he gags at the thought, tears pricking his eyes at the same time. It’s okay, it’s okay. He pads over to the bathroom, sliding down the wall to sit next to the toilet. Tracing the tile with his fingers, he did anything he could to take his mind off the impending meeting.

Internally, Painter was screaming at the top of his lungs. He had been for hours, actually, overcome with intense, mind numbing boredom. He couldn’t paint, he wasn’t hooked up to anything, he had absolutely nothing in the world to do besides let his thoughts fester into a boiling pot of white-hot hatred. Earlier on in the day, he’d heard some of the lab technicians talking about enrichment for him. Enrichment?! Like he was some sort of hamster. Painter was very sure he was NOT a hamster. He hated hamsters, actually, the next one he encountered he’d crush that bit of filth in his hand. Oh, yes, that would be quite nice. The thought of the imaginary rodent’s death brought the color crimson to his mind. Finally, something vivid! He thought as hard as a computer could about any other vibrant colors, but all he could muster was red, feeding into his rage. This couldn’t be healthy.

“Sebastian? Are you in there? It’s me,” Stacy calls from outside the bathroom. Sebastian hadn’t noticed the time passing. He’d been there for hours, and the vomit in the toilet was certainly proof of that. “Sebastian?” She calls again. “Yeah, I’m… yeah. Give me a second,” he says, his voice hoarse. He flushes the toilet and wets a towel, wiping the remaining sick off his chin. He opens the door, waving. He fills a cup with water and swishes it around his mouth while Stacy sits on the counter, spitting it out after a few seconds. He repeats this a few times before he starts talking. “Sorry,” he starts. Stacy rolls her eyes. “For what? Putting water in your mouth? What a crime,” she deadpans. “You sick?” She asks. Sebastian nods sheepishly. “Not.. sick, sick. Thinking got a little too spiral-y after a bit. I’m scared.” Stacy nods with understanding. “Do you still want to go?” She asks. He takes a moment before nodding. “I should. I want to talk to him, I’m just… unreasonably worried about it,” he says. “It’s not unreasonable. He abused you, it’s perfectly fine to be scared of him. I’m certainly not here to judge you if you don’t want to go,” she assures. “Really, it’s fine,” he says softly, appreciative of her indifference. “Let’s just… get this over with, I guess?”

Painter had resumed his screaming. That is, until Sebastian entered the room. His screaming comes over the speakers, translating to metallic screeching. Sebastian covers his head and Painter stops. “Oh. Hi, Sebastian,” he says, unsure how to approach this. He assesses him quickly, noting his messy hair and wrinkled clothes. Clearly, his lover hadn’t been sleeping well without him, and that caused a spark of wild satisfaction. Sebastian opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat. “H-Hi. Painter. Um,” he stutters. Nervousness; now that was delicious to see. Nevertheless, he tries for a friendly smile. “What? I’m not gonna hurt you. Not like I can do anything, anyway; I’m not connected to anything. It’s really boring.” He jokes. Sebastian looks at him warily. He’d worked in customer service (did running a trading post in hell count as customer service?), he knew Painter’s scribbled expression was fake. Painter knew that too. “So, what made you visit?” He asks coolly. “Just, um, I-.. uh. I- think-… uh.” Sebastian mumbles. He curses at himself in Spanish, god dammit, why was it so hard to talk? The computer found it quite funny. “Aww, struggling? I’m sorry, Sebby, am I scaring you?” He taunts, noticing how the freak’s ears went back with shame. Sebastian looks at the technician outside, then back at Painter. “Come over here,” he says, coaxing him closer. Sebastian hesitates, but eventually he sits in front of the desk and starts idly fiddling with a piece of Painter’s casing. “So, what’s it like here? Obviously, I haven’t been around yet,” he says, the last part bitter. “It’s… uh. Cold, I guess? I mean, it’s.. it’s nice. I like it,” he mumbles. Painter watches him, making calculated notes of every point of contact Sebastian has with him. Left case, keyboard, the left corner of his screen, and most importantly: the metal desk. The door bursts open and a tech tears Sebastian away from the computer at the last second as Painter sends hundreds of volts of electricity through the computer and table. The tech rushes over and unplugs Painter, cutting off his power supply. Sebastian sits there, dumbfounded. “Wh- wait, what d-did he do-??” He stumbles over his words. The tech doesn’t answer his question. “I think it would be best for you to stay away from the P.ai.nter for now, Mr. Solace,” she says, leading him out of the room.

Chapter Text

Stacy pounds on Sebastian’s door. He reluctantly gets up. What would bring her here in the middle of the night? He opens the door and she immediately stops him from opening it too wide. “I need you to hide. Right now. There’s a room behind the mirror in your bathroom. Urbanshade is here.” She says quickly. His eyes widen as his stomach drops. No, no, this wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening. Without asking questions, he closed the door and runs to the bathroom and starts to pry at the edges of the mirror. There, a hidden latch. He unlocks it and hops into the room behind, shutting the mirror behind. Sebastian can still see through it, and he hears people burst into the room. God, did they always have to shout? He watches them, weirdly calm, knowing they couldn’t find him. They wouldn’t. A guard enters the bathroom and looks around, opening all the cabinets and such, finding nothing. They step up to the mirror, their snout-like helmet pumping against it. Sebastian stands there, frozen. Finally, the guard leaves, and he sags with relief. He turns to sit and wait for the search to be over.

Hands, all over him. The doctors had found another way into the room, and were dragging him out to the guards. How? Why had they brought doctors? Why had they brought the worst ones? He kicks and hisses, but their hands remain firm. The guard from the bathroom takes him and holds him tight against their chest, dwarfing him. He looks around wildly, locking eyes with Stacy and Gauge. “Please,” she tries, but a guard snaps at her. She glares and begins arguing with the guard, the situation escalating further. Where were the Deluge guards? Where was anyone? Why couldn’t he scream? A commotion arises behind him, and when he looks back, Stacy is pointing her pistol at the guard. He almost wanted to laugh. A pistol? Urbanshade armor was built to withstand artillery shells, and the guards carried rifles. The doctors, while unprotected, carried cartridges filled with god knows what bioweapon they’d created. There’s a crazy look in her eyes, and that’s when he understood. No matter how friendly they were, Sebastian was her project. Her life’s work. Except, instead of turning him into a monster, her job was to rehabilitate him. So much for that.

She shoots. The bullet bounces off the guard’s armor harmlessly. The rest of the guards raise their rifles, not even waiting for another shot before blowing her head off. Sebastian goes limp, staring at her body on the floor. None of this made sense. None of it. Deluge was just letting them take him? After everything they’d heard? Had he been sold? Were they taking Painter, too? That last question was confirmed when he was thrown in the back of the SUV. Another person occupied the back seat with him; a young man with white hair. The same white haired man he’d seen in Painter’s file. This was the actual Painter, Matteo Berry. Again, he tries to speak, but can’t find the words. He just blinks at him, dumbfounded. When Matteo doesn’t look at him at all, he realizes he’s unconscious. He wished they had knocked him out.

The next time he wakes up, he’s strapped to a chair, IVs sticking out of every available surface. His hands were already starting to turn grey-blue again… how lovely. Although, he was weirdly calm about it all. This was it now. This was everything. He’d live out the rest of his days aimlessly drifting in whatever tank they threw him in, getting vivisected on occasion. The blacksite breach was just a little wrinkle in Urbanshade’s plans for him, and they’d smoothed it out. Might as well just stop seeing himself through the lens of a human, at this point. Everything was just the same, and he was okay with that. Until he wasn’t, because being brought back into that awful surgery room was officially his breaking point. He snaps uselessly at guards as they tie him down, squirming and clawing. The first cut might as well have sent him into orbit from the pain. He hears something, he was finally able to get something to come out of his mouth—

Sebastian wakes up sobbing. He tears the sheets away and hugs himself… he was still at Deluge. He was safe and human. Sebastian Solace was not with Urbanshade. Sebastian Solace would never go back to Urbanshade. Sebastian Solace would keep himself safe.

Painter sparks, still incredibly depleted from his efforts to take Sebastian. Alas, he had failed, and he was once again denied possession of his property. They’d transferred him to a tungsten table, the least conductive material they could get ahold of, as he had overheard the technicians saying. Where they got all this tungsten, he had no idea, but he had to admire the overkill. He brushes his white hair out of his eyes as he continues doodling in the depths of his mind. Being trapped in a computer was boring, incredibly boring, and nothing they could ever do would fix the root of his instability. No, no, they’d have to rip him from this thing and put him in a new body, and he knew they would never get a body for him, not after the things he had done, even if he wasn’t sure why he’d done them. He regretted it quite a lot; he hadn’t even really been thinking clearly when he had done those things. Painter loved Sebastian, but somehow, through a haze of… whatever that was, he had not only assaulted him but tried to kill him. What was that all about? Then again, it was probably okay. Sebastian had his own skeletons in his closet; the things Painter had witnessed him doing would be vile to even the worst of people. Yes, the way he had torn into the corpses of some unfortunate little scumbags sent and killed down here was repulsive…. They were both disgusting, therefore his assault was justified. Though, somehow, Sebastian had gotten better while Painter hadn’t. They both thought time on the surface would fix them, but clearly it had destroyed the computer even more. God, what was he saying? He was perfectly fine the way he was. He throws down his imaginary paints, frustrated at his lack of decisiveness.

Screaming. That was all he did for the rest of the night. Sebastian sat under his bed, making a nest for himself out of bedding, and screamed into the softness. He screamed and screamed until his voice sputtered out and the sun had long risen. As his voice cracked and broke, so too did his civility. A coping mechanism, Stacy had called it, something he did to make himself feel better, and for some reason, this meant reverting to his old days when he acted like a giant dog. He rolled around, burying himself in his sheets and tearing at his pillows with his unfortunately dull teeth. He isn't able to make any of the sounds he originally did, what with his now human voice box and his fried vocal chords, which greatly distressed him, for.. Some reason. “Am i.. Interrupting something?” a familiar voice sounds behind him. Sebastian looks up quickly, disoriented. Just Stacy. His cheeks tinge red with embarrassment and he shakes his head. “Do you want me to come back later?” she asks. He shakes his head again and sits up, dusting himself off and pushing the pillow he had shredded under the bed. “Sorry,” he rasps, his voice barely audible. Stacy nods and sits on the bed above him. “It’s fine, don’t apologize. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t walking in on anything, uhm, private,” she says, stressing the last sentence. “You’re not. Just that coping thing. Had a nightmare about Urbanshade. I’ve been screaming for a few hours,” he mumbles. “A few hours seems excessive.” “Mhm.” she gives him a concerned look. “I can come back later, I really don’t mind…” she says. Sebastian just mumbles a quiet “yeah.”