[open] a friend in need's a friend indeed
Who: Ned and OPEN
What: Random encounters & fallout from dream-walking tomfoolery
Where: House 20, the garden, anywhere around town
When: Day 89
It's been a long week. A long, mostly-sleepless, weird week during which Ned has seen far more of his friends' and neighbors' subconsciouses than he would have liked to. Plus, a creepy city made of crystals that everyone seems to have seen, but no one will claim as their own. Shady stuff. Today, he is determined to wear himself out. Perhaps if he's tired enough, whatever mojo the men behind the curtain have put on him won't be strong enough to stir him out of a deep and dreamless sleep.
It's probably a futile tactic, but he can't just do nothing.
So he is a bustle of activity - cleaning the house, walking around town, checking on the crops to see if they are holding up well (carefully, with an eye for any enterprising tigers roaming too close to the edge of the forest), keeping an eye out for new faces and an ear out for rumors of missing ones.
What: Random encounters & fallout from dream-walking tomfoolery
Where: House 20, the garden, anywhere around town
When: Day 89
It's been a long week. A long, mostly-sleepless, weird week during which Ned has seen far more of his friends' and neighbors' subconsciouses than he would have liked to. Plus, a creepy city made of crystals that everyone seems to have seen, but no one will claim as their own. Shady stuff. Today, he is determined to wear himself out. Perhaps if he's tired enough, whatever mojo the men behind the curtain have put on him won't be strong enough to stir him out of a deep and dreamless sleep.
It's probably a futile tactic, but he can't just do nothing.
So he is a bustle of activity - cleaning the house, walking around town, checking on the crops to see if they are holding up well (carefully, with an eye for any enterprising tigers roaming too close to the edge of the forest), keeping an eye out for new faces and an ear out for rumors of missing ones.
no subject
But Daneel is different. He is extraordinary, has already come so far in regards to his own programming, has improved upon the best aspects of himself, made himself into a better person despite all the odds.
"Humans can choose to do that, too. Put someone else's well-being before their own. It's encouraged, in fact, in certain situations." He thinks of the way he hadn't even paused to think before he'd run face-first at a tiger when he saw Meyer slumped on the ground; he thinks of mothers sacrificing themselves for children, of firefighters and extraordinary bystanders running towards danger for the sake of strangers. "But I guess the difference is that it's a choice. And it's a choice you should make while knowing your well-being is important, too." To Ned, it certainly is, and he's hoping it will be to Daneel, too, someday.
When Daneel tells him that he's helped make this process easier, just by being around, Ned goes a bit pink in the cheeks, so happy that he doesn't even know what to say. He turns, buries his face in Daneel's shoulder, but he's grinning.
no subject
"I do not think that, in any situation, I would ever be able to be content with letting innocents die to protect myself." He shakes his head very slightly. "Nor do I wish to be."
That does, however, remind him of something, which he has never mentioned to Ned. It's unpleasant conversation, but before he had entrusted this knowledge to Kobra, and Kobra is no longer here. Someone must know this.
"Ned, along these lines, there is something I must ask you. If anything does ever happen to me, you must ensure that no one attempts to dismantle me for any reason." He's very serious, very intense. "Though no doubt my components could be useful to the residents here, when I arrived, I was informed that any attempt to dismantle me or remove any part of me to use elsewhere would result in the death of every individual here. This cannot be allowed to happen."
no subject
When Daneel says he has to ask something of Ned, he instantly listens more carefully; Daneel hardly ever asks him for anything at all. Whatever it is, it must be important. The tone of Daneel's voice only confirms this, as does the content of his request.
Ned's stomach plummets at that word, dismantle. What Daneel is asking of him is important. Objectively, he knows that. But he doesn't want to think about it as a possibility. Nothing can happen to Daneel: it isn't allowed to. The mere thought of it makes him ache with sadness. He remembers finding Daneel on the floor of this room, remembers the dream in which he died, remembers the cold, hopeless grief that he sank into after Jesse had been murdered.
Not trusting his voice, Ned nods his promise.
(Privately, he thinks he will pass this information on to River, because if that eventuality were to come to pass, he isn't sure he's going to be capable of doing much of anything.)
To remind himself that Daneel is here still, unharmed and happy and whole, Ned clings to him with sudden fervor. There is no sound of a heartbeat there to reassure him of Daneel's vitality, but there never has been (except, of course, for when he had been human). Daneel feels the way he always has - solid and reassuring. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen," he says. Then, knowing Daneel will have felt that shift in emotions and deduced that he was the cause, Ned tries to pre-empt any guilt, adds a quick, "Sorry."
no subject
That Ned would have an intense reaction to that request is hardly surprising, but it had to be said. He wraps his arms around Ned, all too glad to let him cling, if that can afford him any relief at all.
"Thank you, Ned. The promise means much to me, though I realise it isn't a simple thing for me to ask of you." He strokes his fingers through Ned's hair, a protective gesture. "I would prefer not to cease functioning either."
This is simply the last resort, the worst case scenario.
"Kobra knew this before, but he is no longer here to ensure this, and it is knowledge I only wish to share with someone whom I... whom I feel I can trust."
no subject
"I'm really glad you trust me. I promise, I won't tell anyone else." A short beat of silence and then, with a note of amusement and self-reproach, "Can I tell River? In case... just in case whatever happens to you happens to me, too?" Ned hopes that Daneel understands he isn't trying to cheapen this gesture, that he appreciates how much it means that Daneel is confiding in him. "She can keep a secret, and I trust her, completely." Hopefully Daneel will realize what this means for Ned, that the list of people whom he trusts completely isn't a list so much as a duo: River and Daneel.
Not that it should matter, because nothing is going to happen to Daneel. He has to repeat this to himself, try to make himself really believe it, to smother that easily-uncovered shard of terror in his heart that tells him caring about someone is inextricable from losing them. If Daneel were to die, it wouldn't be the same kind of death that he can fix. There would be no second chances whatsoever. Just a world without Daneel in it, which is - more and more, as the days pass - becoming almost unimaginable to him.
no subject
"She can be trusted with this information as well. I am not comfortable with it being widely known, but a trusted few should."
no subject
For the first time, perhaps ever, Ned is grateful to their captors for something. That ultimatum of theirs might well have helped to keep Daneel whole and unharmed, long enough for them to meet, to get to know each other, to become... whatever it is they are together now.
He doesn't often think about Daneel's difference in terms of his body and its internal circuitry. But now that his mind is on the subject, he asks, "Daneel, there isn't anything I ought to be doing, right? To keep you, uh, healthy or, I suppose, running optimally? Was it usual on Aurora for you to have, um, repairs?"
no subject
"For the most part, I am self sufficient." Curiosity about his more mundane workings is slightly unusual for him. He's a robot; people either question his general power requirements or they assume he's entirely self contained. "Minor repairs I am capable of on my own, though it hadn't been necessary here. My internal power is nuclear in nature, and should not need replacing for some centuries. I do require a certain amount of water for lubrication purposes. For example, my eyes do produce moisture for the sake of cleaning and lubrication, though my needs are minimal and easily replaced."
Daneel does not need caring for, effectively. He's too busy caring for others.
"It's possible I could sustain some damage I would be unable to repair on my own, but I cannot plan for an unknown possibility."