Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Working for Prodigy was an interesting venture. You had been freelance for a very long time, living your life day to day in a small area not claimed by The Five. You weren't a top of the line scientist but your job was still just as important; Dame Sylvia had asked for you personally to help her get the Hybrids settled into their new forms. Your work with other Synthetics and Cyborgs had put you on the map, though you weren't sure why. You fixed them up, mostly, repairing any damage done in the field of their work. But it wasn't just a knack for fixing the broken; you had a way with the Synths and Cyborgs, something that made it so you could relate to them on an emotional and...detached way. You befriended them, took time to check in on regular customers and form attachments. You quite literally had an army of the artificial and the semi-artificial behind you and Dame wanted that connection for her own lab. 

It hadn't taken long to convince Boy Kavalier to hire you, Dame had explained, for she had told him that the children needed that connection. Whatever it was you did to make others trust you so willingly was seen as a great assest, and you could offer some important insight into the mental spaces of the Hybrids. She wanted you to work closely beside their prime caretaker, Kirsh, and study the mannerisms of the Hybrids while also becoming a safe space for them to come to. As you understood it, Dame was meant to be an mothering figure to the children, as she referred to them as, but you were to be a friend. Kirsh, whoever he was, was to give you access to everything the children had access to. Dame's husband would work closely with you as well, helping you keep track of vitals and other important mechanical tidbits that might need to be fixed. 

So here you sat, waiting for the air lift to land so you could meet your new boss and co-workers. You were nervous, to say the least, meeting the Boy Genius and hoping you lived up to the hype that Dame put forth about you. Really, you didn't think you were anything special; you were human, through and through, and yeah you had a knack of making friends with the terribly misunderstood but that didn't mean anything. At least, you didn't think it meant anything, not to this level anyways. But they saw something in you that was worth the...very hefty pay raise you were getting with this job offer and now the hatch to the air ship was opening and blinding light flooded the compartment you were seated in. 

You unbuckled yourself and exited the ship, shielding your eyes to make sure the sun didn't blind you fully as you came up on the waiting entourage of your new life. Your hair blew around in the wind caused by the large motors behind you as they powered down and you eyed everyone who stood before you. 

Boy Kavalier was young, younger than you expected him to be, and stood a few inches shorter than you as he eyed you up and assessed his new toy. Dame Sylvia stepped forward and greeted you with a warm smile, shaking your hand heartily. 

"Welcome!" She grinned and motioned to the man who stood beside her. "This is my husband, Arthur. You'll be getting to know him closely over the course of your research. This is-" 

"Yes, yes, yes." Kavalier cut in, waving his hand impatiently at Dame. "You have some special magical way to connect to Synths and that's great! That's, you know, cool. Is it true though? I find it hard to believe that the very beings that think they're better than us can be convinced to befriend someone like, well. You." 

"What he means is, it's going to be exciting! Watching you work closely with the children and interacting with them!" Dame Sylvia clapped her hands in front of her, smiling to show her excitement while Kavalier rolled his eyes. 

"What I want to see is if you can get this one," Kavalier pointed to a white haired man with a bored expression. "To smile. Get him to do that for me and I will pay you one million dollars!"

"I-" You fumbled for words at how the Boy Genius acted. You assumed he'd be more refined, more...empathetic. But he was still completely child like himself, in his mannerisms and spoken word. Boy Kavalier seemed to become bored with the conversation, however, and switched to what your main duties would be. 

"You will observe, interact and aid the Hybrids as you see fit." He explained as he turned on his heel, his bare feet making a dull slapping sound against the floor. Everyone began following him, including the white haired mystery man that eyed you for a brief moment before going back to looking bored. "Kirsh will be your partner in crime! He is the main care taker for them, so his word is final! Remember that. I want progress reports every week on their behavior. Any bugs you find, any issues that arise, I want it." 

You nodded as he continued along, leading you down different hallways and giving you the grand tour. Dinner would be served in the mess hall, you were to report to Kirsh every morning and relieve the days schedule, etcetera and so forth. You were still waiting to meet Kirsh but apparentlt no introduction would be made as Kavalier made his departure, leaving you with Dame Sylvia, her husband and the weird white haired man. You had a hunch he was a Synth, the lack of emotions anywhere on him a dead give away, and you suspected he also worked closely with the Hybrids. 

"Am I ever going to meet this mysterious Kirsh?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, watching Kavalier disappear around a corner as you crossed your arms. "I'm supposed to report to him in the morning and yet I've no idea who he is. Is he too important to come meet me?" 

"You don't-" Dame blinked at you for a moment, seemingly confused, before she shook her head and motioned to the silent man. "Meet Kirsh." 

Your eyes found the cool brown ones of the Synth-Kirsh. Of Kirsh. And you had the decency to blush with embarrassment as he assessed you quietly and scientifically. 

"O-oh..." You stuttered and tucked away flyaway piece of hair behind your ear. "I'm so sorry. If I had known-" 

"You have a superiority issue." His voice was level, emotionless, as he stood there with his hands behind his back. His brown eyes ran you up and down in a very analytic manner, nothing in his facial features changing. "You have this reputation about you, for befriending the "unfriendable" as some put it. Do not try it with me." He looked away from you and down the hallway, no longer interested in the conversation. "You will meet me in the lab at eight. No later." With that, Kirsh turned and walked off, leaving you fidgeting in embarrassment and feeling like you were already on the chopping block. 

"Well!" Dame Sylvia sighed and looked towards you with an awkward smile. "I'll lead you to your room now. Your things have already been brought in." 

Your thoughts were a jumbled mess of things, already dreading having to work with what seemed to be a very stoic Synth. It would seem his prime directive was to the lab and it's research, and it would also seem he had made up his mind about you before you even got the chance to know him. It didn't really help that you had shoved your foot in your mouth when you made that comment about meeting him, probably made you look like a child in comparison. And you had a superiority problem? The way Kirsh held himself seemed to be the complex most older Synths had; they thought humans lesser beings, things that would eventually die and be forgotten. You had met a few of them before, tough nuts to crack at the time but some odd hours in your lab had them feeling less inclined to openly insult your intelligence. No matter, if Kirsh wanted to do this the hard way, you could do that too. 

You thanked Dame Sylvia and her husband for walking you to your room and slipped inside, sagging against the door with relief to be out of public eye. You eyed the room, rather happy with its size. There was a comfy looking living room with a kitchenette just off to the side. Meals would be held in the mess hall but you imagined you could bring food back here to eat instead. You worked better alone, after all. To the side was a smaller room that held the bedroom, with a Queen sized bed, and a bathroom adjacent from it. Full bathroom too, with a shower and an actual tub. You haven't had a good soak in so many years, always having to deal with lukewarm showers at your old home. 

Home...you already missed the tranquil feeling of the forest surrounding you. The island you were currently on was all forest but it was different. Cameras were everywhere, watching your every move and listening to every word. You'd have no privacy here, that was something you traded for the chance to enhanced and better science. 

What you missed most of all, however, were your friends. Cyborgs and Synths had come from all over the world, outcast and driven away, to live in your little slice of heaven. There were humans there as well but you never connected with them all that much, your choice of income often leaving them feeling intimidated. It wasn't their fault, nor was it yours. It was just the way the cards were dealt. The others however, the non-humans, weren't so easily swayed. They found your interest in their mechanics amusing, and since a great deal of them came to The Haven broken and missing parts, you suddenly became a well sought after mechanic and healer. 

Ever since you were a child you had been fascinated by the inner workings of the Synths, and with each passing year and with new upgrades being introduced, you had come to find you had a knack to fix them. Building them was one thing, that was something still out of reach. But replacing old and broken parts? Now that was your area of expertise. And so you went to school and became top of your class, advancing well above the other students there. You didn't make many friends during those years, a lot of jealous classmates often trying to sabotage your work. But you remained steadfast and steady, and you learned that humans...well, humans were tricky beings to relate to. So when you found that you could actually hold worthwhile conversations with the Synths, you latched onto it. And here you were, at decade later, now working for one of The Five. How...sad. 

"Staring at the wall won't get you the answers you seek." A voice spoke up and you turned to see your helper and friend, the one thing you couldn't do this journey without; Thrash. He was a Synthetic, an older model that was phased out almost as soon as it was brought in. Thrash came to The Haven around the time you did, in need of some dire work done on his mainframe. He had chestnut brown hair, cool blue eyes and a constant frown for anyone who wasn't you. He had been hard to work with at first, having much the same complex as Kirsh seemed to have; though after weeks of being bullied by you into letting you fix him, he came around. 

"Thrash." You sighed and walked over to him slowly, his bigger frame towering over you as you got closer. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his chest. Thrash was a hot headed one, and very protective. You had wanted him to come on the tour but Kavalier apparently had confined him to your quarters until 'they were sure he would play nice.' 

"Are you sure this is the right move for you?" Thrash asked, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. He had the same cool and collected tone of Kirsh, which was no surprise to you; the two models came out one right after the other. Thrash was typically level headed and disinterested in a lot of things but his systems had been damaged in a fight and the only way to fix him was to give him parts from another Synth, one that had more human emotions to it. It didn't change Thrash too much but he learned to care about you, at the very least. He hated you for it for the longest time, giving him what he deemed as 'a great weakness' but it was either that or turning him off forever and you couldn't do that. Not when he was still functioning. 

"I don't know." You replied to his question with another sigh. "This is what I've been wanting for my entire life; the chance to further the scientific study in ways no one was had thought of before. And a human/Synth hybrid is certainly the way to do it." 

"And am I really to be confined here for the time being?" Thrash asked as he looked around the room, eyebrow raised. 

"We're lucky you could even come to begin with." You pointed out, raising your head. "Let's not push it." 

"Very well." He graced you with one of his rare smiles and tucked the strand of hair he had been playing with back where it belonged. "I suppose I've no choice." The two of you stayed in that position for a moment, Thrash allowing you your moment of reprieve as you sought comfort in his quietness. 

"So. I'm working with another Synthetic..." You began as you pulled away and sat down on the decidedly plush couch. "His name is Kirsh. I think his model came just after yours." 

"Ah, yes." Thrash nodded and sat beside you. He was still still in his movements, like everything he did was calculated before he executed the move. "The TX-9367 Model was made with 'vast improvements' from mine. What's he like?" 

"Imagine you before I fucked with your systems." You threw a lazy grin at Thrash who rolled his eyes at your display. "A real stick in the mud. And I may have insulted him? I'm not sure, he's hard to read. I didn't know who he was at first and called him pompous....not in so many words but." You shrugged and Thrash sighed. 

"You've always had a way with words." He commented. "So, he's made up his mind ahout you then."

"Decidedly so." You nodded and rubbed your face with your hands. "Ugh, I made myself look like an ass. He said I have a reputation and I better not use my special befriending tricks on him." 

"What special befriending tricks?" Thrash asked, deadpanned. "I absolutely loathe you." You giggled and shook your head in amusement at Thrash. 

"I don't know. I just talk to you guys and suddenly I have...more than tow dozen Cyborgs and Synthetics seeking me out." You really didn't understand what it was about you, nor did you care to. You made friends, that's all that mattered. What made you so special was beyond you, maybe it was because you fixed them up with no judgement. Considering they came from places that did nothing but judge them...it was a good guess. You gave them a home, a purpose and a feeling of belonging. Even if they thought they were superior, everyone wanted to feel like they belonged somewhere. 

"So what are you going to do?" Thrash pressed the matter, toying with the zipper of your sweater. 

"He wants to act like that, he can. I'm here to work, to study." You nodded with the absolute confidence you felt brimming inside you. "Kirsh and I are co-workers and nothing more." And you would make sure of it. He was an ass, clearly, and you weren't going to waste time playing nice with him. If he had already made his mind up about you, well two could play at that game, buster. Now all you had to do was survive. 

Chapter Text

To say your sense of direction was bad was an understatement. Here you were, five minutes before eight, and you were completely lost. All fhe corridors looked the same; plain and clinical, with no real markers to navigate with. You were trying desperately to remember which turn to take to get to the lab but nothing was clicking. 

"What a way to start," you muttered to yourself as you continued down the twisting corridors and felt yourself get more frazzled by the minute. "Make a bad impression, be late to check in...stellar performance!" 

Eventually you came across another scientist who gave you directions to where you were supposed to go. You thanked them profusely and made your way to the lab, getting there with one minute to spare. Kirsh was already there, along with a few people you hadn't met with yet. You typed in your access code and slipped into the room, scurrying over to Kirsh and clearing your throat. 

The white haired man was studying something through a magnifying glass while one of the new people took notes steadily. Kirsh didn't look up, didn't acknowledge you at all, just kept talking aloud for the note taker. The two others in the room studied you openingly, whispering to themselves behind their hands. It dawned on you that these were the Hybrids, three of them at least. 

"Hello," you greeted them, taking the initiative while Kirsh ignored you. You tell them your name and smile warmly, to try and ease them into your presence. "I take it you three will be working closely with me. Where are the others?" 

"Uh, Wendy is doing some sort of test, Nibs and Curly are in the library..." The boy spoke like a child still, with the pauses between words and fidgeting with his arms. 

"And what are your names?" You asked, curious about the chosen nicknames of the children. Very Peter Pan, but for a place called Neverland that was to be expected. 

"I'm Smee," the same one spoke up, rocking on his heels slightly as his arms swayed at his sides. "That's Slightly. And the one over there is Tootles." Slightly gave a small wave and a half smile in your direction, which you mirrored with a larger smile of your own. They were all quite shy around new people, you noted, their mannerisms showing that of children who hid behind their mothers when a visitor came to say hello. 

"Well, it's wonderful to meet you three." You looked back to Tootles who smiled widely at you before going back to note taking. 

"You're late." Kirsh finally acknowledged your presence, briefly turning his head to indicate he was speaking to you before going back to his work. 

"By a minute." You replied with a sniffled, holding your own head high. "It won't happen again." 

"Slightly, go and fetch the others." Krish stood and made his way over to you and the other two Hybrids. "I want everyone here as we discuss this." 

As Slightly went to do as he was told, Smee and Tootles bombarded you with questions about where you had been before coming to Neverland. 

"Well, it was called The Haven," you explained with a soft smile. "And there were a lot of people there that had come from all over." 

"What were they like?" Smee asked, eyes wide with wonder. 

"Where was it located?" Tootles followed up. 

"It was a small island, unclaimed as it didn't hold much of anything useful to The Five. It has a grand forest and a river and we built up a village in the middle of it." You could see the small village now, though small it no longer was. It had grown to a good size over the years, thanks to the increasing population. "There were humans, like me, but there was also a big populace of Cyborgs and Synthetics like Kirsh. See, they came to see me because I fixed them up after they were hurt badly. And since they were seen as disposable to the people that owned them, a lot of them were cast out and found their way to us." 

"So you fixed them up?" Smee looked awe struck by your story, it was really cute.

"Mmhm." You nodded with a smile. "I fixed them up and they decided to stay with us. A place where they could be accepted and not face the stigma against their creations." 

"Stigma?" Tootles asked, looking towards Kirsh.

"A harmful ideal." Kirsh replied in his cool tone. "A mark of disgrace against something or someone, usually preconceived by a group or individual that's later spread around." He seemed uninterested in your story, staring off to the side as he waited for the others. 

"Is that why you got that reputation?" Tootles turned back to you and you tilted your head in amusement silent question. "I overheard some of the adults talking about how someone with a...a knack for caring about synths was coming." 

"I find them easier to get along with than humans," you conceded. "Humans are...messy. And yes, while I am one I can't really to relate to them as much as someone else would be able to." Kirsh turned towards you, only a fraction of a movement that could have been missed entirely if you weren't trained to note minute movements of Synths. 

"This...island of yours." Kirsh spoke like Thrash did, measured and calculated. You were noticing the similarities and differences with every moment you spent around this man. "Is a lawless slice of land that The Five gave you out of pity. Do not think it so grand, children."

"Lawless? We have a leader, three actually!" You growled out at him, crossing your arms in defiance. "One of each to represent those who live there. And The Five did not 'give us the land out of pity', they had no use for the island. A small blip on their radars compared to everything else. The Haven is a stronghold for those looking to habor themselves in safety. Sure, we've not the numbers of the other nations but we have something they don't; harmony. And I'll be damned if I let you bad mouth my home." 

"You say other humans are messy." Kirsh finally turned to look at you, his brown eyes moving up and down judgementally over your person. "And yet here a mess stands." 

Before you could further the argument, Slightly returned with three others in tow. One walked with confidence, surveying her surroundings like someone who was given the title of in charge but actually held no power in the grand scheme of things. She had short black hair and dressed in a black jumpsuit, a tiny stuffed walrus clipped onto her belt loop. 

The next one that came in was hunched in on herself, her longer red hair obscuring her face a tad bit as she assessed her surroundings carefully. This one, you noted, seemed to be more shy than the others. She kept her distance from you, standing off to the side as she spoke to her own stuffed animal. 

The third one mimicked the first girl's attitude, walking confidently and with power, though you guessed it was a rivalry. Her hair was long and curly and she kept looking over to the black haired girl and adjusting her position to match. One sided, you mentally added. 

"Wendy, Curly, Nibs." Kirsh introduced the Hybrids as he pointed to each one. He then introduced you, using your full name, and stepped aside as you were swarmed by the others. They all asked a million and one questions, which you tried to answer as best you could. There were some you didn't answer, however, doing your best to swerve the conversation to other parts of your life. You had a dark past, skeletons you'd rather keep in the closet, and you hoped your half truths were enough to sway the Hybrids from discussing it further. The scars that marred your body and soul were for you, and only you. 

"Now then." Kirsh interrupted after a few more rounds of questions. "We're all gathered here so I shall go over the role our newest member will play in your lives." The Hybrids all moved to more comfier positions around the room; some lounging on the tables, some on the floor. Wendy kept standing, leaning her weight on one leg as she folded her arms behind her back to listen. 

Kirsh explained that you were to be treated with respect, to be listened to as if you were him. He explained that you were here to observe, interact and study their behaviors and the way they accumulated to their new bodies. Progress reports would be made weekly, as you already knew, and the Hybrids were to see you as their friend. Their confident when they couldn't go to him or Dame or Arthur. Your role was a match to theirs, in a way you supposed. A role model and a teacher, as well as their doctor. 

"Your...special gift of befriending synths will come useful here," he spoke only to you for this, the others having been sent away for the time being. "Use it wisely. They are still children in their minds, so they like to think they can keep secrets from us. Your job is to make sure they don't." 

"But why though?" You questioned, probably stupidly but you didn't care. "Why do they need this from me specifically? I'm nothing special. I just...talk." 

"Kavalier sees potential in this," Kirsh said with a tilt of his head. "Somehow Dr. Sylvia has convinced him you have worth. I see no merit in it." 

"Thanks." You deadpanned. The corners of Kirsh's mouth quirked up, not a full smirk but something akin to it. 

"You are something fascinating to Kavalier, something he doesn't understand." Kirsh went on as if you hadn't spoken. "Your 'Haven' has sparked his interest. He wants to see if you're really what they say you are." 

"And what do they say I am?" You pressed, pursing your lips in annoyance. 

"A Whisperer of Sythentics and Cyborgs. An anomaly. Not quite human anymore, but not a drop of machine in you. An outcast, finding peerage in the outcasted." Kirsh was so blunt with his wording, so precise and sure it would sting. 

"And that scares you?" You wondered aloud. "Enough to stop me from even trying it with you?" 

"Nothing scares me." Kirsh replied. "I don't feel fear. I just find no interest in you. Nothing of note." 

You're a meaningless waste of space

Give up on this dream of yours, girl. It will amount to nothing.

Come here, sweetheart, let me put some use to you. 

Things you had heard countless times. Everyone always underestimated your being and you hated it. The only one who ever truly believed in you, after a few hiccups, was Thrash. 

"And what about you?" You asked, turning a steely gaze on Kirsh. "What happens when you've run your course? When you're no longer useful to the Boy Genius? When you're broken and dried up of worth? What do you think happens then?" Before he had a chance to even think to reply, you stormed off. It was lunch time, you were hungry and pissed off and just wanted to take it out on some food. 

You followed a group of scientists to the mess hall and got in line for lunch. Surprisingly, it was actual food and not slop like you had always imagined them serving at places like this. Today was apparently spaghetti and meatballs for lunch, which sounded like it would hit the spot. You decided to go check in on Thrash with your spoils and headed to your room, kicking at the door while you waited for your friend to open it. 

"You could have put something down." Thrash mentioned as you walked past him and to the small dining table by the kitchenette. 

"That defeats the purpose." You explained as you dug into the food. 

"The purpose of what?" Thrash sat across from you with a raised eyebrow, his hair pushed back from his face a bit. You could still see the scars from the damage he received before he got to you; tiny white lines on the simulated skin to indicate where you had stitched him up.

"That I'm an independent woman who don't need no man." You replied and Thrash snorted in response. "God, you've no idea how nice it is to see a friendly face." You sighed heavily. 

"Is he that bad?" Thrash asked, not needing to indicate who 'he' was. 

"Yup." You made a popping noise on the end of the word. "We just had a battle of wits, it was fantastic. You should record it next time." 

"If he's giving you trouble, I could talk with him." Thrash tilted his head to the side and you shook your own. The last thing you needed was for there to be a Synth Showdown in the halls. 

"No, you're supposed to be on good behavior." 

Thrash didn't argue further. He knew what fucking this whole operation up meant. Dame didn't know when she offered you the job, but her visit in a Prodigy airship had startled everyone who lived on The Haven. They were scared The Five would descend at any given day and take them all by force. You were told by the leaders to leave and make sure that didn't happen. If you showed up after pissing Kavalier off, who knew what would happen then? You didn't want to think about it, lest it manifest the outcome. 

Thrash reached forward and grabbed your hand, squeezing slightly. He could tell when you began to spiral, almost the second it happened. He was trained on your every move now, just like you were his. Two halves of a whole, they used to call you. There had been speculation of something more between you and Thrash, something other than friendship, and you had once thought of it in passing but it never bloomed into anything more. Thrash was your friend, your anchor, and that was all he ever would be. 

Not that it wasn't uncommon, humans and Synthetics had been hooking up since they first got introduced. Truth be told, the first synths had been made specifically for that purpose, filling those lonely nights. But when they started becoming more human like, with feelings like the David model, it made humans uncomfortable. They didn't want a replacement to human kind, they wanted something they could control. And so the human appearance was kept but the feelings were omitted. Somewhat. Synths still had simulated feelings, they were just muted to the furthest degree they could be. The ones with superiorty complexes were seen as dangerous when there was absolutely nothing in there. They wouldn't care if a human was harmed. So a balance had to be created. 

The history of Synthetics and their creations was fascinating to say the least. There was dark history, for sure, and the mistreatment of Synthetics and Cyborgs boiled your blood, but the rest was magical and taught the human race a lot about what it means to play God. 

Thrash spoke your name, pulling you from your thought.

"Welcome back. Your food is cold." He pointed to your plate and you swore as you hurried to eat it up. You didn't want to be late a second time that day. 

Chapter Text

You were going to smack his smart mouth one of these days, you could feel it. It had been a week since you first arrived and already Kirsh was driving you up the wall. 

You were currently sitting in a security room with him, watching the Hybrids outside in their group zone, testing their flavour recepticals with specially designed nodes. They would take turns listing off what they were tasting, and grade each other on it. Wendy was in the lead, followed by Curly, then Nibs. Smee and Slightly weren't really participating, only when one of the girls nudged them. Tootles was reading a book about biology. Your job today was to study how they interacted with one another, learn the hierarchy and how they responded to different things. Wendy was clearly the leader, which you had deduced the first day meeting her. The others just kind of fell in line with her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Of course, Kirsh couldn't go five minutes without insulting your intelligence and decided to break the silence by offering a cutting blow to you. 

"You've barely written anything down, are you even paying attention?" He asked as he peered over your shoulder at your note pad. There was a short hand only you could understand written down, which would look like nothing to the untrained eye. "Your report is due tonight. There better be actual progress on it."

You slammed the pen down on the table and looked up at the Synthetic with a glare. 

"Will you stop breathing down my neck and go do something else?" You demanded with a frown. "I know what I'm doing. This isn't my first rodeo." You added 'asshat' under your breath so he wouldn't hear you but you had a feeling he did anyways. 

"You're so easy to anger." Kirsh sat back in his chair with a triumphant half smirk. He seemed to like needling you with his barbed words, seeing how deep a hurt he could cause. Well, you weren't going to let him pull you down, you had faced enough of that in life already. Your skin was tough, like metal, and you would be doing yourself a disservice if you let the likes of Kirsh mess with that armor. 

"And you're so easy to forget." You muttered back and focused fully back on the Hybrids. They were play fighting now, throwing bits of paper at each other and laughing. You jotted something down, noting their penchant for liking games still. How would this affect their mental health as they aged? Their brains would continue to grow, to precieve the years, but their bodies would remain the same...how would one cope with such a thing? A child, watching the world revolve while they stayed stationary. It was sad, in a way, that they'd never again know what it would be like to experience human things.

Without warning, a droplet hit your paper and you furrowed your eyebrows, glancing up at the ceiling to see where the leak was coming from. This place was full of them, always raining down from the rainforest surrounding the buildings. But it wasn't the building leaking, it was you; mourning the losses that these children had yet to realise were losses. 

You wiped your face quickly, before Kirsh could see and comment, and were about to make an excuse of needing to finalize your weekly report, when there was a knock at the door. The security guard that sat quietly behind you opened the door and there stood Thrash, carrying a tray of food. 

"You forgot to eat again." He commented, voice cool in tone and betraying none of the concern you knew he felt for you. "You are human, you must eat." 

"And who is this?" Kirsh asked, raising an eyebrow at his...brother? Cousin? How did Synths see each other? Enemies, maybe? Since each new model was an advancement on the previous one? 

"Thrash." You breathed a sigh of relief, not really looking to answer Kirsh but wanting to say your friend's name like it could calm the emotions wailing inside you. 

"You need to eat." Thrash repeated, ignoring Kirsh. 

"You say you befriend Synths and yet here is one on a leash," Kirsh turned towards you, his face showing nothing. "How...quaint." 

"Shut up, he's not a pet." You snapped at the Synth beside you, standing up to make your way to Thrash's side. "He's my friend, and he's going to be working closely with us from now on." Kavalier had granted Thrash the same access as you had, after winning an argument that you needed his aid and expertise on matters. Kirsh looked like he hated the idea of another one of him roaming around freely, but he didn't say anything. 

"Go." Kirsh waved you off instead, turning back around to watch the monitors. "You have thirty minutes."

You grabbed the tray of food from Thrash and the two of you went to go find a suitable place to eat. As you dug in to this day's fare, roast chicken sandwiches with mashed potatoes and green beans, Thrash sat quietly beside you and contemplated something. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked between bites, looking up at your friend.

"Is that how I was before?" Thrash asked, tilting his head to one side. "Cold and calculating? No emotion?"

"That's how you are now," you replied with a laugh. "To everyone besides me." Thrash flashed you a smile and nodded his agreement. 

"Well, if you hadn't added the X327 model parts into me, I would have remained that way." He commented, poking you in the ribs. It had become an inside joke between the two of you, bantering about how you purposefully used a Synthetic that had emotions just to get Thrash to crack a joke. 

In truth, you hadn't known which model parts you had on hand. All of them were taken from long dead Synths that no amount of fixing could save. You mourned the loss of their lives but you made it so they didn't die in vain. Their parts helped fix the others, The Haven lived on. Thrash knew this, even thought he hated having feelings even to this day. But still, you two joked about it being an ulterior motive.

"Will you try with him?" Thrash asked suddenly. "To be his friend?" 

"No." You shook your head, cementing your decision. "I only need one Synth in my life." That seemed to make Thrash happy. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, running his thumb over your knuckles. You weren't sure what Thrash was to you, but you knew you couldn't live without him. Not anymore. 

"If he ever tries to hurt you, I want you to tell me." Thrash pulled away as a couple of guards came patrolling down the hall. "I will take care of it. I will take care of you." 

You knew he was telling the truth, Thrash would go to war for you. While your beginnings had been rocky and hot headed, your time together now was nothing but a deep caring for the other. Actually, Kirsh was mimicking how Thrash had acted until he didn't, and that made you curious. A curiosity was a dangerous thing to have for you, because it would consume you with time until the answer was provided. But you had to squash this curiosity down until it was nothing but a murmur in the wind; you did not want Kirsh to be your friend, or you his. You both made it abundantly clear you couldn't stand the other, and it would stay that way. 

When you returned to the lab after lunch, Thrash taking your dishes to the mess hall to be cleaned, Kirsh was in there alone. Tootles was still off with the other Hybrids, enjoying their afternoon off. Kirsh stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips and lost in thought as he stared at nothing. 

"Did your battery finally run out?" You asked aloud as you entered the lab. Kirsh turned, a small tick in your direction to indicate his focus was now on you. 

"Your pet not joining us?" He mocked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Thrash is not. A. Pet." You rolled your eyes as you punctuated each word. "And no. He's going to explore the island a bit while I work on my report." 

"Hm." Kirsh went to the other side of the lab while you sat down at your computer and began to type up your report. So many findings, just in the first week, as well as questions you hoped to have answers to. Your notes, written in a language only you could decipher, sat before you as your fingers flew across the keyboard. You could feel Kirsh's eyes on you but you ignored him, choosing to favor your work over brainless arguments. 

Let him judge you all he wanted to, you and Thrash knew what he was to you and that's all that mattered. A pet, ha! Thrash would probably choke you before he allowed you to collar him. Not that you ever would, he was a free Synth, his own person. He had his own mind and wits, his own personality and rights. He was not yours to own, none of your friends were. You were just...their doctor, in a way. Their friend for sure, but also the anchor they needed to humanity when no one else would give them a rope. 

The clacking of your keyboard pulled you from your thoughts as you worked through the report, Kirsh moving silently around the lab as he studied different things and wrote his own notes. The two of you worked in an uncomfortable silence, at least on your end, and you started fidgeting from the lack of noise happening. You leaned back in your chair after a few more minutes, rubbing your face from exhaustion, and nearly jumping out of your skin when you noticed Kirsh was bent down right beside you, watching you work. 

"Jesus!" You yelped and leapt out of your seat to put some distance between the two of you.

"No, my name is Kirsh." He deadpanned as he looked over your work. "Hm. Your hypothesis that the mental toll on the children is intriguing but useless. They are machines now. Their mental state will remain unaffected." 

"Will it?" You questioned, willing your heart rate to slow. "Nibs already shows signs of depression and vulnerability. I fear what would happen if anything damaging were to occur." 

"They are-" 

"They are not just machines!" You spat, knowing his next words would just be an echo. "They are children minds placed into the body of an adult Synthetic! That has already had damaging repercussions on them! They are mentally still children and yet are being told to act like they aren't! And the more you and Dame Sylvia push them one way or another, they will continue to break until they can't function anymore!" 

"You are being unreasonably loud." Kirsh pointed out, standing up straight. 

"I am worried that Nibs will break, and she will break violently because a lot of children with her mental markers have taken the violent route. She does not understand herself, who she is meant to be, none of them do!" You were shouting now but you didn't care. "They need to find out what they are, where their place is in this world, but they can't do that if they're being pulled in two different directions." 

"And this is your...official report." It wasn't a question, but you graced it with an answer anyways. 

"Yes." You crossed your arms, anger boiling your blood. "You asked me to observe and interact. What I have seen is troubling and it will eventually lead to them figuring things out in a way we do not want." 

Kirsh digested your words, mulling them over as his brown eyes bore into yours. His face was expressionless, hard to read and he stood as still as a wall so you couldn't even get a read on what he was thinking. Eventually he nodded and turned back to your computer. 

"I will take this to Kavalier then, and we will consider." Was all he said, but it was the outcome you wanted. 

"Thank you." You sagged in relief. Maybe this would prove to him that you weren't some waste of finances and resources on the company.

"Do not think this is respect of any kind," Kirsh tacked on almost immediately. "You are not worthy of any respect. Your emotions are too quick to flare up and you become unruly when upset. Your argument is still invalid to me, as it will be to Kavalier, but we are tasked with reviewing your studies and discussing. Therefore, we will consider. But the outcome will likely be what you do not wish." 

"You are a pompous, arrogant, self centered bastard and you will regret not listening to me!" You growled. Leaning forward, you submitted your report and turned on your heel. You left the lab in a huff, hoping to leave Kirsh behind the but the stupid idiot followed you instead. 

"And you are an emotional mess, flaring up at the most inconvenient of things said, letting your emotions control you in such a human way." Kirsh commented lightly, keeping pace with you which pissed you off even more. "You should learn how to be more in control of that. It will do you wonders." 

"I hate you." You spat and Kirsh rolled his eyes. 

"You're just proving my point, sweetling." Kirsh shook his head in disapprovement and stepped in front of you, blocking your path. "Learn to control yourself. It opens more doors than it locks."

"You know, I'd ask if you found this amusing but you're nothing than an emotionless machine," you were hitting low, you knew that, you hated yourself for it even. But you didn't stop. "You find nothing amusing. You grate at my nerves and make me want to drown myself with your very presence! I will not play your games, Kirsh. I am here to work, to offer my opinions. Which, may I remind you, came heavily recommended by Dame Sylvia! I am good at my job, great even, and the only thing that I would do to make it better is to permanently sew your mouth shut so I don't have to hear your annoying voice!"

"The feeling is mutual." He mocked and you groaned, side stepping him. 

"Stay out of my way, if you won't respect my work. Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't even think about me." You marched down the hallway, head held high and turned the corner, trying to put as much distance between you and that Synth as fast as possible.