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Relink

Project Sentinel

Made in February, 2023

Word count: 2,355

Character(s) Featured: Robin C. Knightly (they/she), Victoria 'Vick' Knightly (she/her)

Content Warnings: Dissociation / Derealization, memory loss, Body dysmorphia, themes of or like grappling with disability and/or coming to terms with it

Summary / Context:

Robin was a human woman who died, and got resurrected via having her brain put into a robot replica of her body. She passes as human very easily, but she also knows that this body isn’t hers, that it’s fake. The procedure also left her with extreme amnesia, and both of these things weigh on her mind very heavily.

Vick is an old friend, who Robin used to work with in a robotics laboratory before the incident that killed them, and almost all of the other employees except for Vick and Gent.

After they found each other again, Robin and Vick started dating, and eventually got married. This story is set a few months after that.

If you’d like a good mental picture of Robin and Vick, here’s a lovely piece of art of them, by one of my friends.

The name of this story comes from the song Relink, by Amos Roddy. I recommend listening to it on loop while you read.

“Robin? Love, why are you out here?” Vick’s voice floats through the night air, gently disrupting the calming silence. The back door to the cafe clicks shut behind her, taking Robin’s attention away from the stars.

She’s been sitting out on the back steps of the cafe in the cool night of the desert for hours, knees drawn to her chest and head resting on her folded arms. She’d been watching the twilight sky alone as something in her chest twisted, trying so desperately to ignore the feeling.

Robin looks up at their wife where she stands behind them, their heart sinking a little at her concerned expression. They didn’t mean for it to be another one of these nights, they just…

“..It’s getting to me today.” Robin admits with a heavy sigh as they glance away. It goes unspoken what they mean, but both of them know by now. Crickets chirp quietly in the distance, the only other sound present in a town full of people who have already gone to sleep.

“Sweetheart…” Vick says, a soft hint of worry in her sympathetic tone. She’s not pitying them, she’s not being condescending. She just… she knows.

She sits down beside them, and Robin can feel her eyes on them, but they can’t look back at her. They just stare at the stars. So many of them are visible out here in Emelka, without all of the light pollution in Battery city. The desert is dimly lit with the pale blue light from the full moon above, only to get darker and colder as the twilight finally fades away.

“There’s… a delay. Did I ever tell you that?” Robin says, softly, letting her chin sink back into the soft fabric of her sleeves. She gazes out at the starry night sky, eyes unfocused and distant. The sight of them still brings her a bit of peace, even after all these years. She’s always loved the stars.

Robin watches the distant specs of light blur as her vision wavers, focusing and unfocusing. The change is robotic, and she swears she almost feels a slight buzz, like the sound an old camera makes as it zooms in and out. She doesn’t usually notice it, but she does now. She does tonight.

Vick stays silent beside her, leaving her the space to keep talking. Her presence is truly such a comfort. She’s so perfect.

“I only really notice it in the mornings. The disconnect as I wake up. It’s the first thing I know, that this body isn’t mine. There’s the smallest delay between thinking and feeling. Between trying to act and acting. I stop noticing it after a while, but it’s always there. I just have to keep pushing it away.” Something in Robin’s chest feels so heavy. She’s desperate to be rid of the burden.

“It’s so small. It’s nothing. Minuscule. But then I notice it again, and it…” they trail off, unable to continue. They can never quite seem to find the right words for how it makes them feel, but maybe that’s just their tendency to over-explain.

“I know it looks the same, but…” Robin’s throat grows tight as they struggle to find anything they can say to describe the despair and horror and hatred that clings to them. Feelings that have haunted this fake body since they first opened their eyes for the second time.

“But it’s just… it’s not my body. It doesn’t really belong to me.” They settle for this, pathetic and short, unable to find anything that can grasp at a description that wouldn’t scare Vick. God, they don’t want to scare her with how- …how much they hate this machine.

“I’m sorry, sugar…” Vick’s voice aches with sincerity and love, but she doesn’t know what else she can say. They’re both at a loss for words tonight.

“I’m frustrated. It’s just kind of- smoldering under my skin most of the time. It makes my hands.. itch to move.” She flexes her hand, black metal claws unsheathing from her fingers. “…to hurt, really. Everything feels wrong. And then I push it aside, and everything’s fine again, until it isn’t. But the cycle repeats. And it won’t ever really stop repeating. I’m going to have to deal with this forever.” They nearly choke on the last sentence, the words almost too painful as they barely hold back the urge to cry.

“..yeah, ‘y are, dear.” Vick says softly, pressing against her side as she scoots closer.

Robin closes her eyes tight, hands balling into fists. ”I hate it.” They grit their teeth. Suddenly and without warning, they lash out and strike the ground with their fist as hard as they can, frustration boiling over. There’s a part of them that doesn’t think it hurts enough, and it scares them. When they open their eyes, they're brimming with tears. No, a fake approximation of them. They’ll never cry real tears again.

Robin winces, shaking out their hand. It stings. “Sorry.” She mumbles brokenly, regretting not the action, but the fact that Vick had to see it.

”Robin…” There’s some kind of horror in their wife’s voice. She stares at their hand, brows knit tightly with concern. It makes Robin’s heart ache with guilt. She hates to make her darling worry.

Vick takes their hand, and they both watch the small, broken cuts of synthetic skin from the rough concrete steps stitch themselves back together. Vick brushes away the single droplet of oil left resting on their skin with her thumb.

“Honey, you can cry. It’s okay.” Vick says, trying so hard to comfort them. She squeezes Robin’s hand reassuringly. Their throat grows impossibly tighter. How does she always know?

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel worth crying about anymore.” Robin’s voice sounds so raw, she’s trying so hard to hold back her tears. They swim in her eyes, oily and black, another reminder of what she is now. What someone made her into.

Vick’s voice, once again, pulls her out of her thoughts.

“Robin, you died. You’re the first person who has ever come back. That’s… it’s unknowable. You’re allowed to hate it as much as you want. You’re allowed to have bad days. Real bad days. I promise.” Vick assures her softly. Robin gently pulls their hand away from Vick’s, and she lets them go.

Robin covers their face with their hands, and wonders when they started shaking. “I just- this is gonna keep happening. Over and over. It feels so fucking stupid. Like I shouldn’t be.. like this.” They bite their lip, eyes stinging. They’re so tired of crying.

“You’ve been through a lot on top of that, too. All of us have, and I know you wouldn’t say any of that to anyone else. Don’t make yourself the exception, love. You deserve more than that.”

“I- it makes me so-“ Robin bites her lip, struggling, “-frustrated, I just-“ Her claws are still out. She can feel the cold metal tips against her skin, and her fingers twitch.

“I know dear. I know. What can I do, sugarbee?” Vick, her wife, her love, her everything, reaches out again. Her hand comes to rest on Robin’s shoulder, soft and reassuring.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Robin shakes her head, desperately wishing she had something to tell Vick that would help, that could fix all of this, make all of it just go away.

“I-I’m sorry, I- I just hate this so much-“ Robin chokes out, taking a deep, shaking, terrible breath, and finally breaking down into despairing sobs.

Vick wraps her arm around their shoulders as they shake, and Robin’s already so tired of crying before they’d even started. She gives them a gentle squeeze, leaning into their side.

“I love you.” Her wife says softly, with the air of not having anything else left to say.

“I love you too.” Robin echos back to her through a sob, the force of their tears shaking their whole body and making their throat ache with each pathetic noise that escaped it.

For a while, there is silence between them.

Robin sobs and chokes on a poor mimic of human tears, somehow missing even crying, something she feels so much shame for without remembering why. Vick just holds her, pressing close, a comforting and grounding prescience. It means so much to Robin for her to simply be there.

“We’ll have a nice, slow day tomorrow, Robby.” Vick starts slowly, softly. “We can cuddle in bed as long as you want. I can even sic the kids on Gent so we can have the place to ourselves, or we could go do somethin’ instead… anything you want, love. Anything at all.”

Robin shudders, drinking in every word like a lifeline. They sob again, giving up on hiding their face to wipe away their tears.

“We could just sit around and watch tv, take a walk… just take things slow.” Their wife tells them, and they know she means every word.

“Are- Are you sure? I don’t wanna take you away from the cafe…” Robin says, almost regretting that she asked. God, she just wanted to feel better. She just wanted the comfort of her lovely, perfect wife, but she didn’t want to be in the way. She never wanted to be an inconvenience, not to Vick, not to anyone.

“Of course.” Vick says, with so much genuine love in her voice that Robin has no other choice but to believe her.

“You’re still here. And I’m never gonna stop being glad that ya’ are. You’re amazin’, Robin, and that doesn’t even begin to say the half of it. So anything for you, my love.”

Robin sobs again, wiping at their tearstained face with shaking hands. Vick doesn’t let them hide again, taking their hand in hers and kissing her forehead. Her lips are cold, but not in an unpleasant way. Robin’s always been warmer.

“Do you wanna head up to bed, sugar? It’s gettin’ chilly out here.”

Robin nods mutely.

Her wife leads her back inside, hands intertwined, climbing the stairs to their room. Robin changes into her pajamas and they cuddle up under the sheets together, Robin nuzzling her face into the crook of her everything’s neck.

Vick strokes Robin’s hair, holding them close under the soft blankets. They stay like that for a long time, silent and comfortable, just needing to be in each other’s company and nothing more.

“I’m gonna plug you in, sweetheart. Don’t want you feelin’ any worse than ya’ are tomorrow, okay?” Vick said softly, breaking the silence as gently as she could.

Robin winces as the charger clicks into place in the back of that black, plastic ring around her neck. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s noticeable. And god, she hates it more than anything right now, even though she needs it.

Without that cord jacked into her neck, she could almost imagine she was still flesh and blood, that she wasn’t a brain in a mimic mech suit, that she didn’t die horribly, and maybe, just maybe, that everything was okay, too.

She tried to forget its presence, the feeling of it plugged into her, pressing her face further into the crook of her wife’s neck.

“I know. I’m sorry, darlin’.” Vick murmured gently, returning to petting their hair. She presses a sympathetic kiss to the top of their head.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you.” She says into their hair, voice barely above a whisper. I know, Robin thinks. And they do know, they know it with every inch of their soul, but they can barely manage to say it.

“I know.” Robin mumbles, soft, almost sleepy, her voice raw from crying.

Vick sighs in relief so softly that Robin doesn't think they would have been able to hear it if they weren’t this close to her. It makes her feel so, so guilty, knowing they make her worry.

“I love you. So much. And I’ll be right here for you whenever you need me, okay, sugarbee? I really do want to know when you’re not okay… I worry sometimes, that if somethin’s really wrong, you might not tell me…” She mumbles the last part, pressing her cheek against the top of their head and letting out a slow breath.

“‘M sorry.” Robin mumbles, and sniffles, trying not to cry again. “I- I know. It’s just- hard ‘n- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, love. I just want you to tell me if somethin’s wrong, okay? Especially if it’s somethin’ like today. I didn’t know it was this bad again, dear, and I wanna help you… you help everyone else so much. Please let me return the favor.” Vick says, and it feels like she’s really begging them.

“I- I’ll try, I just… I don’t know. I…” Robin stops herself from adding another apology. It’s okay. Come on, Vick said it was okay.

“Just try for me. Okay, sunlight?” Her wife murmurs, kissing the top of her head again and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“I promise I’ll try. I love you… I love you so much.” A stray tear runs down Robin’s cheek, and they take a deep, shaky breath, desperate not to cry again. They’re so tired.

“I love you too, Robbie. D’ you think you can try and sleep now?” Vick asks, cupping their cheek in her hand and brushing away the single tear. She’s so soft. They’re so grateful.

Robin just nods, and their wife gives them another kiss goodnight.

They’re pretty sure their wife falls asleep before they do, as they distract themselves by counting her breaths. Odd in, then even out. They might have lost track a few times as they slowly grew sleepier, but they were pretty sure they were somewhere around three hundred and two.

Three hundred and three.

Three hundred and four.

Robin slowly, slowly slips, losing count, jumping around numbers in an attempt to keep the flow going from the last set of digits she could remember, until the counting disappears into meaningless noise as she finally falls asleep, snuggled warm and secure in her wife’s arms.