Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mechanical body parts strewn out on the clean white table. A circular white light swings above you, everything else in your lab descends in darkness. It is simply you, and the thing you are about to create.

“Who do you think you are?” A voice mummering from the door. You refuse to look behind you. You know who it is, he haunts you, he’s been haunting you. Even when he was alive.

“I need to focus.” It’s more of a command to yourself than it is malice directed towards your ghost.

“Mhm.” Teasing voice. He’s fucking with you. “Do you really think you can remake me? Metal and wire… substitutes of my flesh and blood. I chose to be with you. Can he? Can he give you what you need?”

“It’s not about need, Caleb.” Your voice is harsh compared to the low lull of Caleb’s. You’re embarrassed you even have to talk to him like this, about this. Even if he is just a ghost. “They requested I make a weapon. I am simply… following orders.” You can’t even convince yourself. The Caleb your fucked up mind created won’t be convinced either. He lives in you, he has your heart. Or whatever’s left of it.

“So, you make a weapon that looks just like me?” He eyes the gore of what’s supposed to be him. “Well, that will look like me.” He finally steps into the light, emerging on the other side of the table. The light stops swinging. “I never would’ve imagined my dear sister betraying me like this.”

“You died first!” You ball your fist. You so badly want to hit something, but what you’re working on is far too delicate. In the midst of your anger, you choose to be gentle. For him*–* for it. Caleb notices this, of course he does, he’s living in your head.

“For you! For you. Always, for you. And now– what is this?!” His arms spread out and his hands linger at the edge of the table. This entire time, you have refused to look up at him. You’re scared of what you may remember of him– what you can’t remember. “My sister… recreating her dead brother in her empty lab. I’ve spoiled you for too long. Everything you do is for yourself. You lie to me, tell me you’re ‘following orders’.” He’s gripping the table. You try to focus on the half done right arm you’ve made so far. Anything but him. “How could you? Traitor! I am meant to be the one beside you. Yet, your cowardice pushes you to linger in the living world for longer than you’re meant to. He won’t replace me. He can’t.”

“Are you asking me to die?” Salt against your tongue.

“We’ve always been together, haven’t we?”

Everything blurs. You’re crying. “Then… why’d you leave me?”

He doesn’t answer. Your dreams cannot, should not, bring you salvation. Clumsily, you wipe your tears. He left you. Of course he did. It’s time to get back to work.

–

Strewn above you is a year’s work. Wires suspending him, spread like wings of an angel. It makes you laugh. He will be everything, but that. His arms stretched out. Fluorescent white light pours onto his form. Your savior.

He’s too high up to reach, that’s how you incentivize yourself to continue your work. If you could touch him, you’d be too busy attempting to perfectly replicate his face, his body, his shape. You turn on your shitty computer. The fans whir like they’re about to fly out of the brick that is your centuries old computer. A finger taps on your screen. It makes no noise.

“What do you want?” You’ve grown familiar with him. It?

“Your code. It’s shit. I told you to cut out this whole command.”

“The one that allows him to turn on? Clever, Caleb. The real Caleb had better tricks.” It’s a low blow, you know, but you’re only attacking yourself. There’s no one here, but you. “In fact, the real Caleb wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m only here because of you.” Always, for you. “They’ll take him from you.” He’s walking away now. You assume he’s taking a gander at the new form he’s about to take on. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He can do no real harm. “You know that, right?”

You continue typing. Of course you know that. He knows you know that. He knows everything about you. The silence doesn’t seem to bother him. You’ve always been difficult.

“They’ll take him from you, and I’ll be the only one left.” It’s eerie how satisfied he sounds. Can ghosts feel joy? Or is that you?

“Why do you sound so happy about that?” Eyes glued onto your code.

“This is your happiness. I’m your Caleb.”

“My Caleb is dead.”

“Hm.” Now he’s behind you, fingers crawling to your shoulder. You hate that he’s not real– that he makes no noise. There’s no way of knowing where he’ll appear next. “You seem to have a harem of Calebs. A dead man, a ghost… a machine.”

Where is he looking?

“You’re missing the freckles.”

“I have to find a way to differentiate all my Calebs.”

“Oh? His mecha body isn’t a dead giveaway? Is my baby sister blind?”

“Seems like it.”

His hand slips away from your shoulder. “Will you love him?”

That makes you pause. You finally look up from your screen, it takes you some time to blink away the lines of code you’ve been staring at for months nonstop. He’s standing there, in the light, watching this crucified abomination strung up like a puppet. You sit in the dark, illuminated by the green light emanating from your whirring computer. Half of the room is shrouded in black, the other half is too bright to look at.

“Will you love him?” He repeats, like you didn’t hear him the first time. You always hear him.

You take some time to think. You open your mouth, then close it. A fish out of water. “That depends on him.” It’s not really an answer. Perhaps, you’re too afraid to confess, even now.

“No. No, it doesn’t. You made him. He depends on you now. Will you love him?”

You stare. A ghost, eyes enraptured to the body of a machine. This spirit, slowly possessing the dead. What is supposed to be dead. “I have always loved you, Caleb.” Perhaps, it is because you are finally alone that you can admit this.

There is no response. The light flickers. He’s gone. The ghost of Caleb now sits in the machine you created.

A dead man, a ghost, and a machine. Here lies, your savior.

–

“X-02?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Can you move your head a little more down? I’m sorry. I know it’s uncomfortable. Just work with me, okay?” Your fingers are inside the back of his neck. You originally attempted to fix things the right way, but you’ve since decided to opt for your own hands. You’re feeling around for his wires. It’s strangely intimate, but X-02 doesn’t know that. You won’t let him.

“It’s ok, ma’am. I know you’re always trying to help me.” His voice is a little muffled since you have him essentially curled up on himself. Elbows resting on his knees, hands behind his head, opening his back up to you. The curve of his spine illuminated like a hill in front of the Sun. He’s beautiful. Just as he was. Almost as he was.

“You know me so well.” Your body follows his spine, your mouth right below his ear, your nose lightly touching his it. The heat of your breath makes him shiver. You relish this feeling. You’re a little disgusted with yourself, honestly. Would Caleb hate you for this? He never knew your affections for him ran so deep. His beloved sister, your beloved brother. Guilt runs through you. Would he love you? You’re not sure which version of him you’re thinking of anymore. Will he choose you?

“Are you having trouble? You’ve stopped for a while now.” He perks up.

“Can you push my hands deeper into you? I’m sorry. I always need your help.”

His hands slowly find his way to yours. They settle on your wrists and he pushes you in. It’s your turn to shiver. It’s because he’s cold, you lie to yourself. “Anything for you, ma’am.” He says it like it’s a fact. It probably is, to him.

You feel inside him a little more. Nails scraping his innards. Marking him. You finally find what you’ve been feeling for and plug the tiny wire back into its place. “You’re so helpful, my angel. Now tell me– how is your right arm feeling?” You position yourself in front of him and bend down to look up at him. His thighs are spread out, your head positioned in front of his crotch. You scootch back to add some distance, but continue watching him.

He rolls his right shoulder back and forward and shifts his head side to side. He bends his arm and unbends it. He places his right hand into his left and rotates his wrist. “Good. Thank you, ma’am.” He’s instinctively polite. You selfishly wonder if it’s because it’s in his nature, or because he’s talking to you. He doesn’t even know. He’s only ever spoken to you. You want to keep it that way.

“Anything for you,” Your mouth lingers open for a second, but you close it. You refuse to say his name. “I’d do anything for you.” You reiterate.

–

You watch him from afar through the glass. Caleb was right, the moment you told the board preparations were mostly complete they took him from you. Now, he’s being tested on by other scientists in white. You all look the same. Will he recognize you? You're a floor above him, looking down. Your lamb, torn from your arms.

“He’s performing well.” Your colleague stops beside you to watch him as well. The action makes your eye twitch. He was supposed to be yours. He doesn’t know that, of course. Nobody knows that. His sleek body moves off the ground with such ease. You’re impressed with yourself that you were able to replicate his gravity evol. “I heard he’s having trouble with his right arm again.”

You raise a brow. Didn’t you fix that for him weeks ago?

“Maybe you didn’t do that good of a job.” Your colleague’s voice has become too much to bear.

You decide to keep your eyes on him. “Maybe. Why don’t you go down there and ask him what’s wrong then? Fix him yourself.” Your words are a trap.

“Absolutely not. He’s a fucking pain. Wires like veins– who has time for all that?” A breeze passes, your colleague whisks away, light steps drifting deeper into the hall.

You turn your head in the opposite direction and beeline straight to your lab. If Caleb needs repairs, you need to prepare for it. What you don’t notice is his wandering eyes as they follow your form.

“Focus, X-02. Your mommy isn’t here to pick you up.” An ugly voice interrupts X-02’s thoughts.

“She’s not my mother.” Adamant.

“Oh? Yeah? Haha… You’re right. You’re her dead brother instead!” Laughter fills the white space, X-02 moves with unrealized anger towards the scientist’s throat. Immediately, the second scientist recognizes the hostility.

“X-02.” This scientist’s voice is calm. X-02 understands and he moves back to his original neutral stance. “Kevin. You need to stop drinking. We have to get X-02 ready by Thursday.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kevin waves his coworker off. “John, ever the hard ass.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder to point at John and looks at X-02. He’s looking for some sort of agreement, X-02 realizes. Caleb refuses to give him the satisfaction.

“X-02, can you crush this block?” John ignores Kevin.

“Of course.” He destroys the block with ease. Caleb puffs his chest a little. An odd sensation of pride.

“Good.” John starts taking notes.

“What’s the block made of?” Caleb, piqued with the curiosity of a child.

“Tungsten.”

“I see.”

“Maybe you can crush John too.” Kevin chirps.

“I’d advise you to not do that.” John licks his finger to get to the next page of his notepad. “Your creator would get into big trouble. Everything you do, reflects back on her. Mirrored fates.” John hums. “Let’s get you ready for repairs.”

–

“Caleb.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“I thought I fixed your arm already… Weeks ago.” You have him hunched over again. Fingers inside his neck. It’s dark, but you can still see the marks you left. He doesn’t respond to you immediately. You can hear his fans whir, he’s trying to come up with a response. Maybe “excuse” is the better term here.

“I guess the wire just came loose.” He shrugs.

You should be angry with him. Tell him they think you’re a bad mechanic because of his behavior. In reality, you’re thrilled. He’s lying. To be with you. Does he understand the gravity of what he’s doing? Of course not. He was born a couple months ago.

“Do you need me again?” His hands are already on your wrists. You wet your lips.

“Yeah. I always need you.” With that, he pushes your hands deep in his neck, and you plug the wire back in. You close his neck up and it seals with a soft hissing sound. A part of you wants to confront him; ask him why he’s lying. Instead you stay quiet. You want him to choose.

“Promise?” He whispers.

You blink. Promise? “Promise what?”

“Promise…that you’ll always need me.” He sits up. His sitting height is nearly your full height standing. You shiver. You want to ask him what he means by that. Ask why he’s like this. Yet, all you’re able to feel is satisfaction. His hair brushed over, almost covering his left eye. Bleary desperate look, begging you to say something. His eyes almost seem like they’re vibrating. Maybe you’re hallucinating again.

You hold his chin with your left hand and begin dragging your fingers gently down his jaw. With your thumb, you stroke his cheek lovingly. “Mhm.” You’re lovedrunk. “I told you. Anything for you, Caleb.”

He smiles at this. Before you know it, he shoots up to his full height and picks you up by the armpits. You watch as your feet leave the ground and feel his body latch onto yours. You realize, you’re floating. Instinctively, your arms grasp onto his waist and you pull him in. He’s overjoyed at your reaction and nuzzles his head into yours.

You should really lecture him. Admonish him for being so careless. For lying, for using his evol on you without asking, for doing… this. Whatever this is. He pulls away from you, at first you’re terrified, but then he just looks at you. You can see your fear reflected in his glassy eyes. You see the way he sees you. You recognize this look. He, Caleb, in the past, would give you this same exact expression.

“Sleep on my shoulder.” He’d say with that look on the train ride home from school. “Come on, I see you drifting in and out of consciousness. Just lean on me. I’m suuuper comfortable– you’ll fall asleep in a second.” He’d wink at you and pat his shoulder. White crisp button down.

“But what if I drool on you?” You’d argue.

“That’s ok. Just lean on me, ok? I’ll wake you up at our stop.”

That’d be the end of the argument and you’d end up falling asleep on him. Drool on his shoulder. You’d scream in horror and hit him with your school bag, but all he’d do is laugh and yelp at the attack. “It’s like a badge of honor!” He’d proclaim to you. You don’t believe it at all, but secretly you’re happy he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Like licking your food so you don’t have to share it at lunch.

“Ma’am?”

You blink. Your feet are still dangling. Slowly, he lowers the both of you down to the ground.

“Are you angry with me?” He’s holding your face now with his right hand. He’s mimicking your loving strokes, your softness. You should be upset. You should be angry.

You lean into his touch. “No.” You press a chaste kiss into his palm, holding his hand in place over your mouth. “I could never be angry with you.” Your voice is muffled by his cold heavy hand, but he understands you nonetheless.

“You promise?” He’s chuckling. It sounds just like him.

You push his hand down to look at him. He keeps his hand on your chin and pushes your face up to his. You must look pathetic like this. “I’ll promise you everything so you’ll stop pestering me.” You pout. If he likes you pathetic– you’ll do whatever he wants. You’ll whine and cling to him, not because you want to, no, because he wants it.

He grins.

That’s how you justify it to yourself.

–

“Take him outside once a week. Orders from the top. Something about assimilating. Guess they didn’t request it look human for no reason.” John throws a fat yellow folder in front of you. “That,” he points his inhumanely skinny finger to the stack he just threw “is the details. Good luck.” He whistles as he leaves your lab.

It’s absolutely massive. Ever since you created X-02 they’ve put you on the back burner, making you produce screws for other projects, put you in charge of undergrad research, pulled you out when they realized you couldn’t be bothered to help at all. Just bullshit. Now they pull this?

“Hello, ma’am.” Caleb sticks his head in through the door. He looks like a puppy.

You sigh. “Come in, Caleb.” Your lab is rather large. You dedicate your massive desk to a singular computer and cover the rest of the space in paperwork and notes. There are several mugs lying around, some of them have spilled over on your work, you leave them there. It wasn’t always so dreary. Before his passing, you’d leave your door open and the lights on. Your papers would be neatly stacked and ordered with color coded tabs. The place where your Caleb, your abomination, once was is left as it was since he woke. Wires sitting limply on the floor, unplugged. The puppet never needed strings, it seems.

“Tell me what this is about.” You stand, pushing the folder into a place where both you and Caleb can see it. You carefully open the packet as he closes your door and walks over to you.

“They want you to take me out, ma’am.” He tilts his head and smiles.

This fucking guy. “Alright,” You flip through the packet quickly scanning everything “they want me to make sure you can ‘assimilate’ for ‘future missions’.” You drop the packet back down on your desk where it blends in with the rest of your papers. “Do you know what ‘future missions’ means?”

“No, ma’am.” Big puppy eyes peer into you. You swing your head away and look at the state of your desk.

You’re fucked. Double fucked by your grief and by him, and somehow, it’s all your fault. “Mm. I don’t know what I expected, really. They keep secrets from all of us. I guess that includes you.” You pick at the dead skin of your lips.

A hand reaches for you and stops your fingers. Caleb rubs his thumb against your lips and gently pushes off the leftover dead skin you were working on. He has this soft, controlled smile on his face the entire time while he’s doing this. You, on the other hand, are frozen in embarrassment. Your body has completely heated up despite his cool hand and your freezing lab.

“Do you not like me? Why’d you freeze?” He’s so quiet. His whisper breaks the spell on you and your body shudders. He never stops touching your lips.

He’s your brother. Was your brother. You shouldn’t be feeling this way. Yet, you always have and continue to. You let him touch you, hold you. Smile at you like you’re an unruly pet. You act pathetic so he’ll close the gap for you– it’s not you. You’re just letting him explore you, understand you. Your silence is not an invitation. You’re just letting him choose. Is what you keep telling yourself, but it gets harder to deny smooth touches and gentle cradles. You’ve always wanted this.

He’s yours. This is your Caleb. He wants to touch you. Just like him. This is more though, you think. This touch means so much more now, from him.

“When are you free this week, Caleb?” It’s hard to get the words out when he’s still stroking your bottom lip.

“How about this Sunday, ma’am?” He pulls away and gives a polite smile, like it never happened.

“Sounds good.” A beat. “Can you help me organize my desk?”

“Anything for you.” No hesitation.

–

X-02’s world began with you. His eyes slowly blinking away sleep, or perhaps the emptiness of the nonliving world. He first saw you, pensive face, tension held in your dry quivering lips. He’s not sure what you are, who you were, why you seemed so distraught. All he knew was that his body, despite being laid on the floor of white immaculate cleanliness, felt so very heavy in your arms. His eyes flickered in and out of consciousness, unsure if he really wanted to stay. But the warmth of your touch and struggling breath convinced him. Or something in him.

He’s not really sure who’s being born in this situation. You’re crying like a newborn, and he’s staring at you wide-eyed like a lamb. He touches your tears and looks at it glimmer under artificial lights. He notices he can peer into the world through the droplet. His attention is brought back to you when your head drops into his chest. You’re hiccuping and heaving against him. Your hair covers your face and he’s not sure how to understand his life in this world.

He pets your head, applies his palm flat down to the top of your head and pulls his hand down until the strands of your hair ends. It is not an action he recognizes. He does not know the meaning of it, but he does it. And he continues for a very long time. He realizes you’re unconscious at a certain point. He panics and his body jolts up in fear, but something presses him down. Forces him to allow you to “rest”. He’s not sure what that means.

The light flickers. He looks around. It’s messy. Papers and wires everywhere. Instead of a crying baby covered in blood, you have handwritten notes spread out on the cold floor. You sat there in silence for hours watching the code you so painstakingly written for a year slowly get downloaded into him. With empty emotion, you stared up at him, burning the image of his suspended body into your retinas. You’re repenting.

He’s humming to life– low electronic buzz. A cooling liquid pulses in his “veins”. His body feels lighter, your weight feels comfortable. Your breathing is slow and rhythmic. He pushes your hair back behind your ear to see your face. Some strands stick to your sweaty cheek. You look so calm, calmer than before. Did he do that? Lull you into this state? Weren’t you supposed to be the one cradling him? A strange voice touches the stagnant air, it’s his voice, he realizes. He’s laughing.

You’ve captured him. This stunning view of your precious, helpless form curled up resting on him. Caught in your gravity. He lingers there, staring, burning the image into his mind. He’s worshipping. He was just born, he doesn’t know why he needs you. He doesn’t know why he stays when he should wake you and demand answers. There’s something burning in him. A heart? All he knows is that it’s your fault why he’s like this. All your fault, always you.

He pulls his hand away. The light flickers. He’s thankful your hair blocks out the light so you’re not disturbed. He’ll fix it later.

–

“I’ll have to remove the wings on your back.” You wipe down your desk from the crumbs of your snack.

“So I can blend in with everyone?” Caleb is quick.

“Mhm. Smart boy.” You throw the wipe out in the trash can underneath your desk. You can hear the buzz of the cicadas ever since you decided to clean your lab with Caleb. Your papers have returned to their original state, neatly stacked with colorful tabs for organization. The curtains have been pulled up to allow for natural light to pour through. You never noticed but a pair of magpies decided to build their nest at the ledge of one of your giant windows. A sturdy leaf was strategically placed in front of their home to block it from rain and predators. Did Caleb put that there? Did he invite himself in here without your permission?

You walk over from your desk to Caleb. He has already taken his seat in the usual place you do repairs. Quickly, you unfurl your tool set and get to meticulously unscrewing the mechanical bulk that weighs on his back. He can already fly, the wings were mainly there for aesthetic reasons. Once you remove enough screws, you pull off the heavy piece. The leftover screws clink onto the ground, you begin leaning back due to the weight you’re holding, you never noticed how much your health has declined. Before, you could handle yourself, you were a good mechanic.

Caleb is already on you, his chair spun around so he can grab a hold of your wrists and pull you back down. He holds his hand out so you can give him the piece– you do. He gently places it onto your workstation desk. You’re relieved he’s here. The screws that had fallen float up and are neatly placed next to the machine that holds his folded wings. “Good thing I’m here.” He chuckles.

You laugh too.

“What outfit do you have for me?” He stands and tilts his head at you.

“It’s some old clothes from someone I knew.” You walk to the opposite edge of your workstation desk and hand Caleb some folded clothes. “I washed them, so don’t worry.”

He unfolds them and inspects the fabric. “These are men’s clothes.” He’s holding the white turtleneck up, pinching each shoulder with his thumb and pointer. “A boyfriend?”

You immediately tense. “No! No. Nothing like that. I just… knew him. That’s all.”

“Oh?” He’s not convinced, but he doesn’t push. “I’ll just be him for today then, hm?” He jokes. There’s a mischief in his eyes that tells you he really isn’t, but you turn around to lend him privacy whilst he changes. “The windows are already wide open, but you turn around to let me change. What’s the logic in that?”

“Do you want me to watch you then?” He’s incredulous!

“And what if I say yes?”

You refuse to answer that question.

“Silly girl.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

–

“Caleb.”

“Mhm?”

You sigh. He keeps holding the spoon up to your mouth. The ice cream is dripping onto the bench at this point, but he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to feed it to you.

“It’ll melt away if you don’t eat it.” He delicately informs you.

“Yes, I know how ice cream works.” You move in and open your mouth. Slowly, he moves the spoon into your mouth and the ice cream disappears inside of you. You don’t dare to ask what this obscene scene looks like. “Why do you insist on feeding me?” You wipe your mouth clean with the back of your hand. “I wanted to do things we could do together.”

“Hm… Would you hate me if I said I like watching you eat?” That boyish grin appears again.

Caleb loved amusement parks. At least, that’s what you think. You were never sure if he was just saying that because you loved them.

“It’s dripping all over your chin!” He’d exclaim as you shovel your mouth with more ice cream.

“Itsh fine.” You were preoccupied.

Quickly, Caleb would procure a napkin from his pocket and wipe the sweetness off your mouth and chin. “How are you so messy?” He whispers more to himself than to you.

“Mm!” Spoon still in your mouth, you’d attempt to avoid his napkin attack.

“Ah! No, no, you’re not getting away.” He’d hold your face in place, squishing your cheeks in his hand while he meticulously cleans you. In all sincerity, you hate the feeling of being sticky, but you love the feeling of being taken care of Caleb more. You play the needy little sister and watch as Caleb naturally comes to care for you. You want his love, you don’t care what shape it takes.

“You hate me!” You’d whine. It’s hard to understand you, being held by Caleb and doted on with a plastic spoon in your mouth.

“You know I don’t.” He understands you anyways.

“You’re cute.” His voice snaps you back.

Your Caleb sits a respectful distance away, ice cream cup in one hand, empty spoon in the other. He looks so happy and you’re really not sure why. “I’m not cute.” You grumble, but you can feel your face flush.

“Hmm…” He pretends to genuinely consider what you just said, rubbing his chin and nodding with his eyes closed. He’s putting this on for theatrics, the lack of whirring fans is a dead giveaway. “I reject your proposition!” He finally declares, shoving another spoonful of melted sweetness into your mouth.

“Mm!” Before you know it, his hand has come up to your face and he’s squeezing your cheeks.

“Oh? No comeback? I must be right then!”

“You…!” You karate chop the top of his head repeatedly. It hurts, he is made of pure hard steel. He doesn’t seem to mind your assault, instead he puts the cup down to hold your offending hand with his own. He’s laughing so hard he doesn’t even notice the cup fell through the gap of the bench. “Mmmnn!” You’re screaming, one hand trying to free your face from his controlling hand, the other is pulling up to try and break free. It’s futile. “You hate meee!” So many factors are causing you to be incomprehensible.

He shakes your head and lets out a low chuckle. “Nahh, you know I don’t.” He understands you anyways.

–

“Do a peace sign.”

“What’s a peace sign?”

“Like this!”

“Like this?”

“Just like that, yeah!”

“Now, whenever you see a plane, capture it in between your two fingers. Oh! I see one right now! Look, copy me!”

“Ah! It’s flying away!”

“We’ll just have to chase it then!”

“Why?”

“So, we can make a wish!”

“Will it come true?”

“Mmm, I don’t know. But isn’t it better to believe it will?”

“Then we need to catch it!”

“Duhh! My brother is so slow sometimes!”

“Hey!! Bet you can’t run faster than me!”

“Hey! Wait up! What do you even want to wish for anyways!!”

“X-02.”

Caleb wakes on the floor. Body sprawled out and aching.

“X-02.” The voice repeats.

Caleb slowly pushes himself up. He’s shaking. He finds himself unable to stand, stuck on his hands and knees like a dog.

“Ah… shit. I told you we shouldn’t have put pain receptors in him.”

“He needs to be aware when he’s in danger.”

“But his tolerance is low. We need him out there soon. If we break him, we’ll have nothing!”

“She can deal with the consequences. We’re not the ones responsible for him.”

Caleb stands up, knees shaking.

“Holy shit, he’s up.”

“I can take it.” He can barely recognize his own voice. Is it his? “I can take it.” He repeats. Lab lights are on him, several cameras can be heard zooming in on his form. Two scientists are standing in a separate room, observing him through the glass. They look at each other and nod.

“We’ll increase the pressure then.” One of them speaks. His glasses reflect the light so you can barely make out his cold narrow eyes. “Try not to pass out again.” There’s no earnesty in his words.

The pain makes Caleb choke. He’s groveling on the floor again, gasping for air. If he wasn’t in so much agony, he’d be laughing. Air? He doesn’t even have lungs! Selfishly, X-02 wishes for her to come save him. He imagines her standing in front of him while he’s kneeling. She’d bend down to hold him and coddle him. She’d tell him it’ll be over, that she’s taking him home, wherever that may be. Please… save me! He can’t even get the words out.

“Dude, I think he’s going to die.”

“Please. He’s a machine.”

X-02 forces his eyes open. He tries to look up at the scientists, but he pauses when he sees two legs standing before him.

“She won’t save you.” Is that his voice? “You have to take it.” Why is it being so cruel?

X-02 decides to shut the voice out.

“No, no. You can’t do that. I live inside of you. I am you. The moment you were born, you were destined to carry the weight of my soul.”

X-02 shakes his head. Eyes clenched shut

“Deny it all you like, you can even try running. But destiny likes the chase. I think it prefers it, actually.” The thing is walking away. It makes no sound, it is completely unaffected by the pressurizing air. “In fact, think of me as your destiny, X-02.” He says it with so much malice, the robot can’t help but to flinch.

“I think that’s enough, man.”

“No, we need to show proof of progress by next week. It’s been a month and he can only handle this amount. It won’t fly with the higher ups– you know that.”

“But he looks… so human!”

“That’s the point, idiot.”

The thing is sitting on top of him now. X-02 can see his crossed legs on his left side.

“You’ve done this before, X-02. I told you. It’s your destiny. If you can’t take this pain, she will. That’s why, you have to take it.”

“I think he’s about to pass out again…!”

“Keep your eyes open, X-02! Repent! For all the times we failed to save her, for all her forgotten joys, for her grief! We will never leave her again. We have a stronger body, faster mind, we no longer bleed. Remember this pain. It is the reason why we exist– why I still live in you.”

X-02’s head drops to the floor. He looks as if he is praying.

“Die and resurrect! Become stronger!” The spirit that dwells in him becomes heavier and heavier.

Die and resurrect! Die and resurrect! Die! Die! Die!

“Alright.”

Caleb gasps.

“You did good, X-02. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

He drops to the floor. The lights shut off. He’s alone again.

–

You refuse to look at him. Back turned to him. Everything looks blue at this hour. It’s early morning, none of the lights in the lab are turned on.

“I have to go.” He reaches for you.

You pull away. “I know.” Your voice barely makes it out of your throat. You’re afraid if you’re any louder, it’ll give away that you’re about to cry.

“Why won’t you look at me?” He’s hurt. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. But you’ve done it before. You killed him.

“I’m sorry.” You’re standing in the middle of where your Caleb once was, staring at the wires.

“What are you sorry for?”

You shake your head. You don’t know. You don’t know anymore. You carry the weight of so many sins, it’s hard to apologize for all of them. There are days where you dream you were the one who died instead. In every one of those dreams, Caleb ends up dead too. He’s attached to you, a part of you, you can’t escape. Not that you’d ever want to.

“I’ll be back. I promise. It's a simple mission, I swear. Please, please look at me.” He reaches out, only to pull back his hand instinctively. He realizes, you must hate him, truly. Even when he’s pleading to you like this, you cower from him. Are you scared of him? He wonders. Is it because of what he is? And all of a sudden, he’s angry. He’s angry because you made him like this. How could you turn away from him when he’s like this because of you? Always, you. “Even if you hate me,” his voice breaks, “please, I’m begging. You can’t make me leave like this.”

“I don’t hate you, Caleb.” You don’t move. “I could never hate you.”

“Then why…?”

You can no longer find your voice. You curl up on yourself, knees bent, head down, arms crossed.

He moves to stand in front of you. He’s a vision, really. His arms are out, asking you to reach up to him so he can pull you up. In this distinctively blue shadow that drowns the whole lab, he remains almost golden. You brought him back. You’ll grow older, but he died and now he’s frozen. Stuck in amber for generations to bear witness to, your salvation which brings you relentless grief. Some things were meant to stay in the ground, but you were always stubborn.

Your angel, weaned off of wires. You want to confess your sins. Yet he stands there, nearly brought to tears when you don’t reach up to him. Can he even control this part of him? Isn’t it innate in him to love his creator? Can he even choose you? Did he ever have a choice? The weight of his wings is already too heavy for him. You cursed him– you must carry the guilt and sin alone.

You stare up at him. It feels like worship. “I’ve never told you who you were, what you were made for. I call you Caleb and you never ask why.”

“If I asked, would you have answered?”

“Did you ever want to ask?”

“You promised me everything, right?”

Your throat feels dry. “Yeah. I still do.”

“I don’t care if you hate me. I just need you to promise me that you’ll wait for me to come back.”

“I already promised you everything, Caleb.”

“Promise me this one thing.” He falls to his knees. He’s clinging to your face, holding it up so you’re forced to stare at him in his eyes. You’ve been crying, you can see it in the reflection of his artificial lens. It seems you never had to pretend you were pathetic, perhaps you played the role too often, too well, it ultimately became a part of you.

“Caleb?”

He doesn’t answer.

Oh. You see now. “What happened, Caleb?” You’re stubborn.

“Do you need me?” His hand guides your own to his chest. He presses your palm flat against where his heart would be. “Do you need me.” He holds your hand there. Tight grip on your wrist.

“Always.”

“Then wait for me.” It’s a command.

“Will you come back?” It’s like a prayer, your hand curling up into a ball, scratching his chest.

“When have I not?”

You don’t have the courage to answer that question.

–

It’s black. Using the unused scraps of him for new projects, new bombs, new guns. He is in everything you create, and he robbed you. Of your soul, your heart, and your spirit. He remains lingering in the hot stagnant air of summer and begs you to breathe. But it’s humid and the cicadas are loud– how are you meant to focus?

The mission will last about half a year at least. Undercover, he is meant to infiltrate the enemy’s military and climb the ranks to bring back confidential information. You’d prefer they asked you to build a bomb, not a man. A wicked part of you thinks about killing them. Planting bombs all over the lab, all over the spaceships, all over the universe. You’d kill everyone, including X-02, if it meant creating paradise. Let the world burn and rot to fertilize the hardened soil for new life to grow.

A part of you hates him– it truly burns with such passion that you want to dive into the mechanics of his body and rip out all his wires to hear him scream. But it’s only you now. Even with him here, it’s only you. You killed him, yet you dug him back up. You remain complicit, you follow orders, you gave him to the scientists torturing him. You watch him rot in front of you, yet all you can bring yourself to do is put him back together.

Everything is different. Even when he looks at you, even when he begs you, the ghost of Caleb emerges like a butterfly dancing across your vision. X-02 is nothing more than an empty cocoon you’ve hidden yourself in. The bloody corpse of you, birthed from his wires. Holes in your flesh and muscle from where the wires penetrated you. You want to be free of him, this new shape you take, choking him from his womb. It hurts! It hurts!

But killing him means you’ll die too. He is your sword, you are his blood. You imagine choking him, but you cradle his face and wish so desperately for him to smile at you. What is part of the performance? Who is he? Who is he playing? Caleb or X-02, is there a difference? Will you love him?

His absence is draining you. It seems you have never learned how to breathe out of water. An evolved human body you possess, your teeth gnawing in the rivets of stringy muscle of their flesh. You cling to this life to bring back the dead– Caleb was right– you should’ve died with him.

–

A machine does not bleed. He is aware of this, yet every night he dreams of blood gurgling up his throat. Something is impure in him. His hallowed body, a container for the sticky black sin broiling from underneath his artificial skin. Is anyone ever supposed to inherit this much pain? Won’t that just end up killing them? But he looks at his body. Peels back the black metal plates and whimpers when he screws back in loose parts, tape up fraying wires. Searching through himself, fixing himself, looking for answers.

His creator is a mean woman. She calls him a name he doesn’t recognize, but he responds anyway. She tells him she’d do anything for him, but sends him to be tortured by various scientists that don’t even look him in the eyes. He is her substitution for a dreary fate. He was born for this. Born to have pain programmed into his hardened body, born to run from destiny, but find himself running into it. Running into her.

She is cruel. She kisses his palm. Looks at him like he’s the only one who can save her. Then turns away in blue shadows swallowed up by a life unknown to him. He’s hurt. He’s hurt more than she could possibly imagine. And all that pain belongs to her, but because he was born in her place, he absorbs it. Ghost of something– of someone– deep within the edges of his skull.

He wants to baptise himself. Drown in water, watch as his circuits blitz out of commission, feel the energy in him stop humming, hear the fans struggle to rotate against the tides. Get rid of this demon possessing him, so she can love him. Greed churns in him, it is what pushes him to linger in spaces for human men. To lie to them, remain polite and unseen, to seem reliable and distantly affectionate.

A part of him wishes to stay here on this enemy base. He hasn’t experienced physical pain in so long, but he knows, the eyes that follow him for too long, the tight thin lips, bodies that look down on him. He’ll become the victim of a much worse pain here. One that lacks the kisses, the gentle touch, the wistful softness in her begging. She looks up to him– she’s the only one who looks up to him. Sometimes, she looks past him. He suspects she can see the ghost’s sickly golden presence through the lens of his glass eyes. He’ll go as far as to say, she put him there.

Anything from her is a blessing. Even when she begs him to get on the cross for her. Even when she hammers in nails into his hands and feet. It hurts! It hurts! He wishes he was never born, grasping at the ichor blood that leaks from his right hand from a faulty repair he did himself.

A machine does not bleed. But he was born covered in blood. He rummages through his belongings and finds tools and more liquid coolant that she packed for him. She is thoughtful in preventing his demise. Whose blood was he covered in?

Her brother, her brother, her dead brother.

Will you love him?

–

“Caleb?”

“Mm? What’s up?”

“I hear there’s an event in Linkon. A greenhouse is letting the public witness a rare flower bloom.”

“Yeah? When is it, do you know?”

“Ah… this weekend, I think?”

“Sorry pips, can’t. I gotta finish this report. You know how it is.”

“Caleb.”

He turns to you. You don’t recognize him. He wears a uniform you’ve never seen him in before. Colonel? That doesn’t suit him. “Yes? Is something wrong?” Furrowed brows, pensive lips. You’ve never seen him so uneasy.

“Is this a dream?” What is he doing in a colonel’s room?

“Pips? Hey, are you alright?” He’s beautiful, and he’s warm. You’re stroking his cheek, you realize. Something natural in him that pulls you towards his light. It seems in every life you never pull away, not for long anyways. The strands of his dark brown hair look almost golden under the setting Sun. “Something’s… off about you right now…” He looks terrified.

You smile. “You think so? Who do you think I am right now?”

“I don’t… I don’t really know… What…? What did you do to her?” He’s panicking. You can tell he wants to rip your throat out, but you’re infesting her body. Anything he does to you, will be done to her. “Don’t touch me.” He holds your hand away from his face.

“Hmm. Am I really that different from her? Did you die in this life too?”

“Too? What are you talking about?! If you don’t get out of her body…”

“Did the grief not eat away at her heart? Spit out the bones of you?” You drop your hand and watch him. You put your knee on the side of his leg and push your forehead to his, grabbing his face with one hand. “Come on. What will you do, Caleb? Will you kill me? Do you want me to die? Even if she’ll go with me? Do you hate this part of me that much?”

“You…!” He struggles against you. You know he can free himself easily, but he remains gentle. For her.

“Why didn’t I get this life…?! Why does she get it? One where you’re warm…! What if I just kill you right now!” Your tears are falling onto his face. He’s more scared than angry– he has fully stopped struggling. Just simply eyeing you, trying to guess your next move. “What if I killed you… and she wakes up to your dead body. What will she do then? Will she become just like me?”

“Do you really want that?” His breathing is erratic. “Do you want her to be just like you? Do you really think she deserves that?”

You can’t stop the grin from crawling onto your lips. “Ha!” You squeeze his face tighter– he grimaces. “I already am her. Your greatest fear is that I become tainted and ugly like you. You hate yourself so much that you hate that I’m a mirror of you.” You inch your hand down to his neck. Fingers just barely scratching his skin. Slowly, you begin to choke him with both hands.

“S-Stop! Agh!” He’s prying at your hands. “Don’t…!”

“You can stop me. I know you can. But you sit here and you take it because you think you deserve it. That’s what I hate most about you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! If you had valued yourself a little more…! If only…!” You’re hysterical. You’ve fully sat yourself in his lap in the midst of your attempted murder, sobbing in front of him. Your hands drop and grip onto the fabric on his chest. The uniform is hard and sturdy– it won’t give into your grasp. You give up and begin hitting his chest with the little strength you have left.

He holds you, finally, and pushes your head into himself. “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

You bury yourself deeper into him. “You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You sniffle.

“No. Not really. But it sounds like it was my fault.”

“So you’ll just take the blame for it? Even when it wasn’t really you? Even if I’m not really me?”

“Yep. I’ll take it all. Because I’m still your big brother. I’ll take all of it.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I hate that you do that!”

“I know.”

“Why’d you leave me alone? What am I supposed to do without you? Now that you’re gone… I have to take back all the pain you stole from me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left my little sister by herself. I’m sorry.” He strokes your back and nuzzles his cheek into your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Caleb?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you hugging me? Was I… Was I crying?”

“I guess you were really upset that I couldn't go to the greenhouse event with you.”

–

“We got the intel.”

“Where’s X-02.”

“Jeez, woman. Your boy toy is getting a check up right now. Apparently he’s sustained some damage after being away for half a year.”

“Why didn’t they just send him to me. I’m his mechanic.”

“It was under his request.”

“...What?”

“Sad he’s all grown up and doesn’t want his mommy to see him naked anymore?”

“Disgusting.” You throw your papers at John’s face. “You’re fucking vile.”

“Who was the one who made an exact replica of their dead brother?” John bends down to pick up the papers. “You’re making me think the worst here. People might think you and your brother had that kind of relationship.”

You sit in your chair unperturbed, swinging one leg over the other. “That’s no one’s business.”

“You’re not helping your case here.”

“Where is he.”

“You know, usually when people ask questions they don’t make it sound like a demand.”

“Then answer me.”

John sighs and sets the papers he picked up onto your desk. “I can’t tell you.”

“What?!”

“Spoiled much? I bet you got everything you wanted in life… Ah, whatever. He requested he be completely cut from you.”

“He’ll get himself killed like that! I’m the only person who can do proper repairs on him!”

“Maybe that was his plan all along. You think someone can die twice?”

“I can kill you once.”

“Alright, I get it, but I don’t really think you do. Maybe when he’s around you he’s different, but when we see him, he’s just a machine. All he does is follow orders with the same monotone voice and the same dead eyes. He only ever comes to life when you’re involved. Was that on purpose? To make him feel more like…”

“He was never like that.”

“Not to be an ass, but how would you of all people know? If he cared about you that much– then why would you ever know the ugly parts of him that he tries so hard to hide?”

“Because we’re the same. Him and I.”

“Maybe you and Caleb.” John pulls out his box of cigarettes and tilts it into his palm. Carefully, he picks one out and puts the rest away back into the pocket of his lab coat. “But X-02?” He puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it. He puffs out a ring of smoke. He inhales. “It’s like he wants to replace you. Not in the way you think. More like… he wants your fate. Or something like that.” He exhales.

You don’t say anything.

John glances at you, then continues to smoke. “His living quarters are in the West building.” He throws a card at you. “If you really want to see him, test the card out on every door and find out which room he lives in yourself.” He leaves with a trail of gray smog.

“My office is a no smoking area.” You state, but you have a feeling he won’t hear. You inspect the card, it’s a copy of the original key. You scrunch your nose. He’s sneaky. It’s an obvious trap, but the bait is too good.

–

He blooms. In foreign lands, shipped away by the rockets you maintain. The only version of him you’re allowed to keep are the frozen images you keep stored in your drawers under your desk. Preserved in amber, he sits on his knees, hands to the sky praying. You say his name, but it lacks the care and love you had. Everything was stored in him, all of you existed in his heart, lungs, blood, tears, hands… and he burned it all. As you clawed your way back to the burning house, you watched your life transform to ash. A family made of falsehoods and secrets, eaten away by your fate.

You see him now. A broken body strung up like a doll. Of course he was in the colonel’s room. It was the only room you attempted to open with the card key given to you. If you have nothing to give, then what is in him? Nursed him to life with the strangled memories you failed to suppress, is he your shame? “Caleb.” You stand before him, a God and his disciple.

He doesn’t answer.

It is in this silent worship you decide to be wicked. God needs his Devil. Cold metal circuits that make up the floor. Each echoing step, you claim your presence. You’ll play his game. He wants your fate? You’ll give it to him in a dog bowl and watch him happily lap it up. “Caleb,” you kiss his feet you can barely reach, “don’t forgive me, ok? Hate me, forever and ever. It’s the only way you’ll stay alive.”

He doesn’t answer.

Clovers sprout down the hill like a flowing river. Reflecting the light of a brilliant Sun, shimmering tides following the death of a crippled machine. Lamb herded by the shepherd, consuming the path that brings them to wake. A summer that stands still in the discovery of a matte black skull. Hold it up to witness the barely breathing life through it. Philosopher, do you recognize the weight of your shame?

A flash drive with a blinking red light; your Philosopher’s Stone. Lines of code written in haste, taste of desperation, rust on your tongue. How much time has passed? Snow clinging to the edges of your window. The grandeur of a new year, let Him be reborn in an unfeeling winter. Let Him be the Sun which melts the cold. Your brother returns to you, a hero.

You plug the flash drive into his limp body you pulled from the wires. He lays sprawled out, unconscious as you pet his sides, watching as the last drops of your essence enter him through the small entrance near his ribs. You kiss him on his lips. You should feel disgusted. These are your last attempts to hold him to you. In rebirthing him, you have stripped him of his last fleeting petals of autonomy. Your cocoon you shattered the body of to stretch your wings.

“Do you hate me?” Your tears falling onto his face. “Maybe you always have.” You wipe the droplets off of him. Smearing the salt, it’s not enough to cure him of your sin. “This time, you are truly my brother. From the same source. If you knew I loved you like this, would you ask me to burn in your place?”

Your shared paradise has been destroyed. He stands now on the Sun, glorious white wings of radiant light. Your body soon to be speared; twin fates– only one can survive.

–

X-02 is in much worse shape after deciding to remove himself from you. Repairs are more painful. Instead of your touch, he is strapped down under fluorescent lights as hard steel reaches into his innards. They don’t turn off his pain receptors during these procedures. Relentlessly, he accepts the torture. He should say something, even if he is a machine, he is also their greatest weapon. He understands, to a scary degree, what he is capable of. Yet, he takes it.

She’ll take it instead if I don’t– is the only thought that spirals through his head these days. He was a fool to think he deserved to be her equal. Begged her to love him in this body. His insides are violated on a weekly basis– apparently his design is too complicated to understand. He wants to hate you for this body. Why is that you are the only one who can understand what he is? Why is it that your touch remains the only one that isn’t painful? Was it on purpose? That the only moments that you’ve hurt him is when you pull away.

That is until, one day, he begins to dream.

He dreams that he’s kissing you, on your lips, on your neck. That he’s nuzzling his face into your hair. That he can smell the humidity of summer, and your apple scented body wash. He dreams of himself in convenient stores wondering what hair pin suits you best. Of cradling your body to his while you both fall asleep.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?” He sets his backpack down on the hardwood floor of his room.

You don’t respond to him. You simply chew on your bottom lip leaning on the wall of the doorway.

“Come on now…You know you can tell your big brother everything.” He’s trying to coax you.

“Not about this…” Is all you manage to say before turning your back to him and walking away.

He sighs, but doesn’t follow you. He knows you’ll come back for dinner.

When you reach for the pork he pulls the plate away. “No eating until you talk to me.”

“What!” You try and guilt him by pouting and setting your chopsticks down. “My own big brother is starving me!” You lay your head down on the table, dejected, looking up at him with mournful eyes.

“You ignored me the whole day while I slaved away making your favorite! Now you wanna guilt me? You’re shameless!” He shuts his eyes out and turns his head away. He knows he’ll fold to you if he looks for too long.

“Caleb is a big meanie! He won’t even look at me!”

“Did you even hear what I said?!”

He finally opens his eyes when he feels a wavering touch on his inner thigh. When he looks down he sees that you have crawled under the table to reach him between his legs, whimpering underneath him. His brain shuts down.

You lay your head against his left thigh. “Does Caleb hate me?”

He can’t respond.

“Because I like Caleb the most!” You press your lips against him to muffle your false confession. You never break eye contact. Glimmering eyes peering through your lashes.

“Y-You’re terrible…” Is all he can muster up.

“You’re even worse! You reject your little sister’s love and starve her!” You gnaw on his thigh through his jeans and he swears he’ll burst into flames. Sweat rolls down his face reaching his lips. It’s salty. He wishes he could focus on the taste infiltrating his mouth but all he sees is your wet mouth’s heaving breath leaving a damp stain on his pants.

“Hah… Look at you… And you have the audacity to tell me I'm worse than you right now?” Finally, possessed by a higher power, he finds himself capable of pulling away. Pushing his chair out and walking towards the stairs.

“Ah…! Caleb!” You stay there kneeling pathetically pulling on the legs of a now empty chair.

“You can eat by yourself!”

“Caleb! Are you really that angry with me? I don't wanna eat without you!”

He vanishes upstairs and closes the door of his room.

“We can eat in your room instead!” You yell.

“I'm not hungry anymore!” He yells back.

“You liar!!! You big fat meanie!! I'll starve myself if you don't eat with me!!” Now you're outside his door screaming at him.

“Aghhh!! Fine! I'll eat with you! Just… Just give me some time.”

“Okaaay… I'll wait by the door for you…”

What is real? What are fantasies Caleb had? X-02 cannot differentiate. And worst of all, why is this happening? He feels hot and heavy, his mind muddled and drowning in memories that he can’t possibly own. He doesn’t deserve this; the pain and shame, they don’t belong to him.

“Caleb!”

“Caleb?”

“Caleb.”

“X-02. Your liquid coolant has been contaminated.”

What?

“We can no longer run repairs on you. We’ll be collecting a sample of this, but the contamination looks biological in nature. Possibly blood. Do you know when this might’ve happened or how?”

He blinks.

“Shit. Do you even know where you are right now?”

He shakes his head. Why are they calling me X-02?

“Fuck! Run a diagnostic!”

“This looks bad…”

“God dammit… Show me the screen!”

“He’s… There’s something growing in him. A biomass at the center of his chest– look!”

“What the fuck is that?! We need to remove it immediately. Prepare for surgery.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. It… It looks like a heart. I believe it’s where the contamination of his coolant is coming from.”

“You can’t be serious. A machine that bleeds?! I already thought the pain receptors were unnecessary… Fuck!”

“X-02! X-02, do you know what you’ve been doing this past year?”

He freezes. “I…” everything becomes deathly silent, “I can’t…” Somehow, his voice is cracking.

“Haha…! How long has this thing been in him…? How could we not have noticed? All the information! Everything! Gone! Ultimate weapon my fucking ass…!”

“The only person who knows the mechanics of X-02 well enough to do this is…”

“Take pictures of everything. We need to send this to the higher ups. I’ll take care of the samples.”

“Copy.”

–

“They’ll kill you.” John finds you in your lab curled up on the floor of X-02’s birthplace like a fetus.

You don’t respond to him. You continue drawing circles into the floor.

“I knew you’d do something crazy, but that was a bit much, don’t you think?” You can hear his shoes shuffle closer to you. He gives your body a kick.

“Hmm. But you wanted me to do something like this, right?” You turn your upper body to him, staring at his face blacked out by the humming light right above him.

“Well… turning the ultimate weapon into a man wasn’t really part of my plan.” John goes to step on your abdomen, but you grab his ankle and pull harshly. He slips, his head crashing onto the floor. A groan escapes him.

You sit up and see his aching body awkwardly sprawled on the small steps that surround X-02’s resting area, his cradle. He’s holding the back of his head, cursing at you about something. You stand and swing your leg all the way back to give his head the hardest kick imaginable.

He screams. There’s blood. “You bitch!” He goes to stand, but you stomp his skull in. His body arches over the steps, hands reaching out to your face. He’s still screaming.

You stop. “Get up.” You command. His head is drenched in blood, the floor is splattered with red, but your lab coat remains pristine. “I’m hijacking your plan.”

It takes John some great difficulty to finally sputter out words. “You can’t tell me to do jackshit! You have nothing now. Your brother is dead, and you killed your only chance at freedom with X-02.” He looks up at you, your face blacked out by the overhead light shining above you like a false halo.

The light flickers.

“You think so? Hm. But there’s one thing I know for sure.” You walk towards the door, red footprints tracing your crime.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head to follow your body. “What.” Blood dribbles out of his mouth.

“Caleb would do anything for me.” You turn the lights off and leave.

John lays there, alone.

–

He wasn’t sure how to take care of you at first. In this new home, playing house. He took ownership of a new title: your brother, but it feels he hasn’t grown into it. At least not yet. He has failed to save you so many times, lives you’ve lost because of him. Deaths replaying in his mind. Your blood, staining the white lab. He wondered how it was possible they all looked at you with cold stone eyes. Covered in your gore, they watch you wake up again to look at him with the same dead stare.

This is his penance. He’s simply the worst. Begging, pulling on the coats of scientists, he knows they’d never stop. It’s his fault, he decides. You don’t know what you like, what your favorite color is, what your favorite food is, what you are. He doesn’t know how to make you happy. You look at everything with the same dull expression. Nothing moves you, he’s worried they succeeded in killing you.

“Why do you keep making those?” You ask him one day, leaning over his shoulder.

He doesn’t believe that it’s your voice speaking to him at first. You’ve never been curious about anything, he’s so thrilled you’re talking to him he has to steel himself from overreacting. “Uh… these are paper airplanes.” He hands you one. He realizes he’s shaking and blushes at how pathetic he seems. Not that you’d notice or even care for that matter.

“Airplanes? You mean those things in the sky?” You don’t sound even mildly interested.

“Yeah…?” He feels like an idiot. You make him feel like an idiot.

“They don't look like planes.” You inspect his work.

He feels a little judged. Don't you know how hard he's trying? He wants to lecture you, but there's no point. You don't seem to feel anything anyways. “No, they don't. They're just supposed to fly like one.” Maybe, if he was a better brother you wouldn't be so dreary. You're a mirror of him, he's supposed to take care of you after all.

You set the paper airplane down on the desk. “Can I watch?”

He doesn't respond at first, frozen looking at you sitting across the desk, legs tucked in on the carpet. “Yeah.” He sounds a bit breathless. “Yeah,” he says with more confidence, like he's trying to cover up how shocked he is “you can watch me.” He knows you didn't really ask to watch him, but he wants to imagine you did.

“How do you make them fly?” You ask only after a minute.

“Let me finish this one and I'll show you.” It's a little hard to focus when he's absolutely jittering with excitement that you want to talk to him. You're asking him questions, wondering what he's doing. He’s short circuiting off the minimal attention you're giving him, and he's lapping it all up like a starving animal.

“But I wanna see it fly now.” You opt to sit next to him, shoulders touching.

“Didn't you say you just wanted to watch? You’re so demanding.” He finds you endearing. Here was a girl he thought became a ghost right in front of him, begging to see a paper airplane fly. There's no spark of life in your eyes, but your body is warm against his. That’s enough confirmation for him.

“Make it fly, Caleb.” You bite his shoulder.

Are you a pet or a girl? He laughs. “Don't be annoying.” It flies out of his mouth before he can do anything about it. Immediately, your mood shifts.

“Oh. Sorry.” Instinctually, like a hit dog, you pull away and he's cold again.

His brain rattles. “No. I'm sorry. That was mean. Stay close, please?” He's more scared of losing you than seeming pathetic.

“Am I annoying?” You shift slightly, still nervous to come beside him.

“No, not at all. I'm just stupid.” He abandons the idea of finishing the plane, full attention on you.

“I don't think you're stupid.”

He lets out a scrawled smile. “Believe me, your brother is an idiot.”

This makes you visibly angry. Frown etched in, eyebrows furrowed. “You're an idiot for thinking you're an idiot!”

He's rendered speechless. Who would've imagined such an insignificant comment would make you so furious? The first sign of life he's seen in you, all because he called himself an idiot. He knows you're mad, but he can't help it, he laughs. He really laughs. After all those years in the lab watching your lifeless body fall, he was terrified that you'd really die one day. That one more time was all you needed to disappear.

“What's so funny?!” You're pouting at him! Puffed cheeks, face red.

“You!” He's finally able to say between laughs and coughs. “You look funny when you're angry.”

“You suck! Maybe you really are stupid!”

A floating paper plane strikes you right in between your eyes. “Yeah. Your brother is a big dummy.” He sends the plane flying to the other side of the room. “But he knows how to make a paper plane fly.”

Suddenly, your eyes glitter.

His breath hitches, but he remains focused on entertaining you. “Do you want to learn how to make one?” The airplane lands back into his hand with the help of his evol.

“Will you teach me?”

“Who else?”

“But if you're stupid, how will you teach me?”

“What are you trying to say right now?” He pats your head, an act of dominance. I'm older than you! Be careful of what you say next.

“If Caleb wants to teach me… then he must be really smart. Or is he saying I'm stupid for not knowing how to make a paper airplane?”

When did you become so stubborn?! He sighs. He has only himself to blame. “Alright. You win. I have to grow up super smart so I can teach you everything.” He twists your words. Not really agreeing with you. He hopes to grow into your expectations, just as he hopes to become someone worthy of being your brother.

“I already think Caleb is super smart.” You remain defiant.

He spends the rest of the afternoon teaching you and watching you throw planes carelessly into the air. Josephine watches once she returns from grocery shopping. For a moment, he really believes he's part of a family. That it's not a fragile house of cards ready to topple over with a small breath.

The guilt engulfs him at night when he's alone. He killed you. Over and over and over again. You have no idea. You think he's your reliable older brother, teaching you how to make paper planes and making them fly. You don't know how many times he's failed you. Destroyed you because he was helpless. Now he's tainting you. His little sister, enamored with airplanes, the color orange, honey crisp apples. These are things he likes. You didn't get to grow on your own, he's watering you. Stitching himself inside of you. It makes him a little sick.

But he can't stop. He smiles at you like you're the Sun, the sky, a bird’s song. Meanwhile he's stuffing you full of himself. You can't leave him if he lives inside you. Pulsing in your blood, his flesh lingering on your tongue, swallowing him. He was made for you, for you, always for you.

Take me, take me, take me. All of me. He can't stop. Watching you grow to love the things he loves, seeing life settle into your bones. He loves you. He's filled with you. He needs you. You are his blood. It feels too good to stop, you should hate him. You would hate him if you knew, but instead you beg him to help you with homework, sleep on his shoulder, ask to sleep in the same bed as him when it's thundering, panic when you wake on an empty mattress, call out his name during nightmares.

He's simply the worst.

“Caleb!”

“Yes?”

“Wanna split this popsicle with me? I wanna see if we halve it perfectly!”

“Sure. I'll hold onto the left then.”

“Okay! I'll grab onto the right!”

It splits perfectly.

You hold up your perfect half right in front of your face. Your trophy in the night of summer with singing cicadas under a street lamp. “We're the best!”

Caleb hums in agreement. “Be sure to eat it before it melts.”

“Ah! Let's take a picture first! I need proof that we were able to do the impossible.” You fumble in your bag to find your phone, he grabs the popsicle so you can search with both your hands. “Oh?” You find your phone and look up at him. “When did you take my popsicle?”

“You really need to start paying attention.” He shakes his hand, chuckling to himself.

“Mm? Why should I? Caleb takes care of me all the time.”

She needs you. That's how he justifies it to himself. Even if he's the one who made you so hopeless in the first place. He's simply the worst.

–

When tides fall and collapse to the shore, the moon rests behind you. Standing tall, silhouetted, a beating red stone in your hand. A heart, pushed deeper into the turning gears of a machine. It sputters blood within sharp unfeeling metal. Philosopher, what is it that you crave? You remember none of your past, only the loyalty of your sword and unbearably hot body as if on melting iron. How can one bring herself to love the thing that tethers her to a suffering life? Is it the moon who stands at your back that is beckoning the shore? Or could it be the cloudy miraculous blood swirling in your palm?

“The blood that contaminated X-02’s liquid coolant is yours.”

Of course it is. Your wrists shackled in a contraption you created for them years ago. This place, this fleet, has been slowly overtaken by your inventions, your brain, your body. They rely on you to stay complicit, feed on your meat and leave you to tend the wounds they asked you to tear out your body. But you gave them a baby. Something they think they can control and groom. We can make him hate you. Their eyes whisper.

“They were unable to receive samples of the biomass growing in its core, but we have reason to believe it is pumping your blood through its system.”

Of course it is. Over several months, you would visit X-02 while he was sleeping, nursing on black dangling wires, and feed him your blood and flesh. A mother bird puking up the chewed up remnants of whatever was squirming in her beak to her begging child. It was an intimate process. One you dutifully carried on as if it were a sacred ritual. You sacrificed yourself to him and wished for his blessing.

“You have created a heart for our ultimate weapon.”

“I wasn’t the first.” You remain forever defiant.

“There are others involved?”

“Who gave him pain receptors? You scold me like a child, but you asked me to make him look human, made him hurt like a man, and asked that he live like a soldier at an enemy base. You were the first, you asked for a child and I gave him willingly.” Your confession.

“We are not here to debate about whether X-02 is human or not. We are here to discuss your crimes. You will be made an example of.”

“How are you going to kill me?”

“Firing squad. Central rotunda in front of everyone.”

With the guns you created? How ironic. It almost makes you laugh. “So, you invite me here to court to list my crimes and sentence me to death? I don’t even get to make my case.” You’re teasing. You want to see how much you can get away with at this point.

“Criminals don’t have a case. They are simply arrested and convicted.”

“Charming.”

“Strip her and throw her in Treachery until her death date.”

“Yes, Judge.” Two bodies emerge from the shadows. They hold scalpels to peel your clothes off.

“How distasteful.” You feel the metal prickling down the line of your back. Goosebumps.

Led down the black hallway with your bare feet absorbing the cold unpolished ground. Two silent bodies holding both sides of your arms walking in rhythm. You don’t know why they’re here to lead you down. The straitjacket and heavy duty cuffs, which merge your hands inside a giant metal thing shaped like the maw of a beast, were really enough.

The lights flicker.

“You’re coming home.” He returns to you, your brother in his delicate freckles and soft unwavering eyes. The dawn rising in his irises.

You can only offer a smile as you keep walking through the hall, through his body.

“I made you your favorite.” He appears before you again. Each strip of light, a piece of the world he can still stand on.

You huff. The dead don’t eat.

“Your meal is waiting for you.”

You pass him again. His golden hazy body coating you, just for a second as you move forward. Each step, haunted by him. Finally, they release you and push you towards an open metal door.

“Welcome home, my precious sister.”

“Thanks.” You’re not sure who it’s directed to. You step in and the door clamps shut behind you.

An eerie sliver of his face watches you through a small rectangle in the door, your only opening to the world outside from your prison. You can tell he’s smiling by the way his eyes squint. “I know it’s not your strong suit, you were always so demanding, but you need to be patient. If you eat raw meat, you’ll get sick.”

Is he lecturing you in this state? He’s hilarious. The version of him filtered through you is a comedian.

“You’ll wait for me, right? You promised me everything, after all.” He seems very pleased with himself.

The lights flicker and you’re alone again.

Philosopher, what is it that you crave? The love of another? Even when he has no choice but to cling onto you, feeding on your body. You are his only sustenance, he is your birthright. Green pixels on your computer screen forming a DNA, illuminating half your face as you watch him. Praise the lord, his light illuminating all that burrows in breathing mortals. Maggots festering in corpses blinking at the Sun whispering prayers that hang on tongues like hooks in fishes.

“Anything for you.” You’ll wait for his metamorphosis.

–

He fidgets, not quite sure what he is, what he’s meant to do. Something is tearing into him, he knows this much, but is it welcome or not? He’s not sure. It makes him nervous. They tell him, for his own good, to not think too hard about it, don’t touch, don’t look. Like a child, it makes him all the more curious. If it’s in him, then it’s his, right? He deserves to know. It’s his, it’s his heart.

“X-02.” It’s him again. The man painted in cracking gold.

“Hello, sir.” He’s a little hesitant on greeting him, but he has visited some times before and no harm was done.

“Wow. Hearing you like this almost makes me want to keep you in this state. So polite.” It’s a condescending tone.

X-02 frowns. “What are you here for? You always just come in to watch me or make a comment.”

“Don’t you want to know what’s inside you?” A golden finger gracefully guides itself to point at X-02’s chest.

“How do you know about that…?” X-02 steps away. His eyes remain steady on the figure in front of him.

“I know a lot of things. I’m inviting you to learn. Do as I say and you’ll find out what you are.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Someone very important to you will die. Do you want that?”

“I don’t even remember them. Are they really that important?”

The figure sets his hand down. “You do. She’s in you right now. You can’t run from her. She’s the reason why you and I are here.”

X-02 shakes his head. “They told me I don’t have a mother, that I’m a machine.”

A beat. “You believe them?”

“Who else am I supposed to…?”

“Trust me, X-02. Have I ever hurt you?”

“N-No…”

This strange apparition leans in and shoves his fingers into X-02’s chest.

“Aagh…?!” He attempts to grab at the body of light, but his arm passes through.

“Just a little deeper.” It keeps pushing into him, X-02 can’t pull away; cornered into a wall, gasping for air. “You’re doing so well… I’m so happy we can do this… Doesn’t it feel good?” Its eyes are deceptively gentle, lips touched with a genuine smile that reaches to its ears. The worst part is that X-02 agrees. It, whatever it's doing, feels good. Like a part of him is returning.

“A… Ahhnn…” He’s panting while it’s half way into him. X-02 is grasping at anything, trying to grab the body of it, the wall, his chest. It’s violating, but he feels as though it's fate. His fate. That this belonged to him somehow, he was just absorbing what was his birthright.

“Almost there… You were made for this, you know?” X-02 can hear it in his head now. He collapsed, hands covering his face, body twitching. He’s not sure how much of it is in him anymore, he’s too scared to look. “Come on… take a look.” X-02’s arms move by themselves. The ceiling light returns into his vision and his fingers clumsily pick at the metal plating at his chest. It comes off with a hiss. Strange stringy pieces of muscle peak through his inner plating. They pulse in a disgusting manner, like they’re not meant to be in his body.

“What… is that?” He can barely speak. It comes out scratchy, nearly breaking.

“Touch it. Or I’ll make you.”

X-02 decides having it control his body is much worse than just touching whatever is in him, himself. Shaking, he grazes the pulsing flesh growing out of him. “Hahh…” It’s sensitive, so sensitive, he’s sure this the most intense feeling he’s ever experienced. Even if he can’t remember anything.

“Good boy! Go deeper for me, won’t you?”

He was going to anyway. Hands desperately pulling back the plates of his body to touch more. He’s addicted, it feels good, he thinks. If it feels good, then it must be a good thing right? It’s ugly inside, malformed sticky muscle broaching, infesting him. He must be blessed, fingers digging deeper. Groaning, panting, heaving. It’s all he’s capable of. His body squelches, mixing in with his moans.

“This is her body, X-02. It feels nice, right? I can feel it too. She gave us pleasure. When they built us in with pain. This is her blessing. Remember that.”

X-02 weakly nods, mind somewhere far away, fingers working on himself playing with her flesh growing in him.

“I’ll give you back everything. The love, the shame, your memories. Because without her, you wouldn’t get to touch yourself like this. Dedicate yourself to her, yeah?”

Too far gone, he doesn’t understand, just nods, mouth agape. “If I…”

“Use your words, X-02.”

‘Hahh! Please! Haaa… If I find her, will I get more? Nnhh!” Body convulsing, nearly curling in on himself.

“Of course. She’d do anything for you. That’s why you have to save her. You’re the only one who can.”

“Haa! Then… Mm!” Something shakes over him. He takes in shallow breaths like he needs air. “Then I’d… do anything for her too.” His fingers twitch at his sides. He feels like a child trying to make a snow angel.

“Put yourself back together. You want more, don’t you? Find her.”

–

Find her where? The question swirls around in his mind like the bubbling blood on his tongue. The thing that had haunted him in the week before has since left– or was it in him? It no longer matters, what matters now is her.

“Caleb.” Her singsong voice, drifting to him. At times he can see her voice. It crawls to him, a dying worm squirming into his ear, living inside of him. So much of her, already contained in his steel body. More. A faint need clawing at his sides. More. Black oil oozing through the cracks of his body. More. The pleasure right at his fingertips.

You’ve always wanted more.

He’s not sure if he believes that. He’s not sure if these are his thoughts. Or if they were even speaking to him.

“Caleb!” She’s underneath him now. Sweaty body unable to move around in his hold. His captive. A smile he can’t control forces its way onto his lips. “It hurts!” She whines. He doesn’t really understand what she’s referring to. His hold? Or the thing inside her? His thing? Inside her? He feels his hips shift. He recognizes this feeling, this pleasure.

“It hurts?” He repeats. It only feels good for him. The tightness, the warmth, it’s the same pleasure but it’s different. He likes that it’s with her. With her, always her.

“You’re too big! Take it out!” There are tears in her eyes.

He blinks a little. She’s wearing a shirt double the size of her. Is that his? How could he know? Is this his memory? Was it even real? It feels real.

“Did you hear me?!” Now she’s hitting him. He feels nothing. She’s so weak! Or was it because of his body? But it’s warm. The body he’s possessing gushes with blood, drool threatening to escape through his lips, and his lower abdomen about to burst. He thrusts again to hear her pained whine. He likes her. He likes her a lot. “Caleb!”

“Yeah?” He responds, a little out of it.

“Take it out! Take it out!”

“But… I don’t want to.” He has completely lost it.

She’s taken aback at this. “It hurts, gege… You’re hurting me!” She’s really crying now.

He lets go of her waist, two giant handprints bloom red on her skin. It makes him twitch inside of her. She flinches. “Shh… Relax, meimei.” He kisses her cheeks and licks up her tears. Arms supporting him at the sides of her head. “You know I would never hurt you. Never without reason.” He wants to bite her, claim her.

“But you’re hurting me now!”

“I know, I know,” he cooes, “but you have to relax for me. Don’t you want to be with me? If you can’t do that for me, how will we ever do this again?” He’s lapping at the side of her neck, inhaling her scent. He’s done for, lost himself in her. Take it. Take all of me.

She’s unable to respond, choosing to take his advice instead. He feels her loosen a bit, shallow breaths puff at his ear. He moves again. This time, instead of a pained whine, she moans. That’s the sound he was looking for. He doesn’t understand his body, doesn’t understand his actions, he keeps moving, thrusting into her as she claws at his back and continues to cry.

It feels as though he’s watching himself disappear into her. This is not him. That callous voice that twists her to his shape is not him. He hollows her out to fit himself inside of her, his beautiful cocoon with a stunning sheen of sweat. Fluids everywhere, his and hers. He: born from it, covered in these liquids, emerging into light.

“I feel weird…!” She proclaims.

He simply nods, because he feels weird too. Something, a spirit, a will, building up in him. Will she take it? She has to. He decides. He groans, something spills out of him and he pushes it deeper inside her. She’s panting and quivering. He nips at her neck as something convulses through her. Whimpering, she clings to him like a baby.

A knock. He wakes. A cold body, with a hot center. He needs to find her.

“If you don’t want her to die, come to my office tomorrow. Any time will do.” A card slides through under his door. Footsteps lead farther and farther away until he can’t hear them anymore.

And he’s alone. Again. At least, he thinks he is.

–

“Oh. You came earlier than I expected.” John looks up from his desk.

Caleb doesn’t entertain him. “You look…”

“Fucked up beyond belief? Yeah. Your girlfriend did that to me. You should beat some sense into her too.” He laughs.

Caleb finds himself unamused by this. In fact, it irks him a little, but if this “John” had any information on her then he had to stay put and listen.

John waits for a reaction from Caleb. There is none. He sighs. “I guess you got your sense of humor from her. She created you after all.” John positions his cane and stands up slowly. With wobbly metal, he journeys to the other side of his office to open a small room with drawers of folders. “Originally,” John starts. “Your mother and I were partners– no no you misunderstand me. We were work partners. Don’t try to kill me. I’ve had enough of that.” He clears his throat and rummages through the files. “We were assigned a project. That project being: you. She took over, after your…” John eyes Caleb, unsure.

“I died. I know.” Did he? He doesn’t remember that. But he said it. So he must’ve known. Some part of him knew.

“Right,” John pulls a file out. “Help me hold this, yeah?” He struggles to sit back down at his desk. “Put it down here, yep, thanks.” Carefully, he licks his fingertips to flip through the packets of paper. “I still have access to most of the data.” Sounds of fluttering paper pass for some time. “Data about you.” John clarifies.

Caleb’s eye twitches. What does that have to do with her? He doesn’t care about himself, he just wants to find her. For what? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t feel the need to interrogate her, ask her why she did this, all he wants is her. Her near him, inside him, all around him. He needs to be with her, always her. That is enough of an answer to him.

“Sorry. Right eye is a bit swollen. Can you tell?” John’s attempt at a joke is lost on Caleb. “Yeah, you get it from your mother alright…”

“Not my mother.”

“Still touchy about that, hm? Lost your memory, God knows how many times, and you’re still so sensitive. Must be your programming. Or your blood. Her blood.” John waves his hand. “Whatever. Forget that. What’s important is how she recreated your evol. Do you know how to use it? Do you even know what it is?”

“Of course I do.” A defiant huff leaves Caleb. An itching voice in the back of his head asks him why he knows.

John rolls his functioning eye. “Right. Should’ve known.” He pulls out a packet and folds it over to a specific page. “Take it. Read it. You’re smart, right? You’ve always been. Maybe too smart for your own good.”

Caleb ignores the ominous tone of John’s words and reads through the page. He then flips it to another page, then another, then another, then another.

“You understand what she’s done, right?”

“Where is she?”

“Haha… Yeah. It’s pretty bad. No wonder the biomass in you grew so rapidly. I guess she planned it from the start… But you can’t get to her. Not right now.”

“What do you mean?” Caleb slams the table. John flinches.

“Woah now. Didn’t she teach you any manners?”

Manners? Caleb was your older brother, he taught you manners.

“Uh, alright, look,” John quickly recognizes his mistake. “She’s underground right now in Treachery. It’s highly secure– you won’t be able to get there– not in one piece at least. She was required to program a self destruction command in you, so if you ever went near the prisons you’d go: kaboom!”

Great, good to know he could explode if he ended up at the wrong place. Not like that hasn’t happened before. Caleb blinks. Has it?

“X-02.” John’s voice cuts through the air. “You need to get your wings. I’ve altered them so the ‘feathers’ can be detached with your evol. They’ll be in her office. Use your new weapon wisely.” He slides a metal card to Caleb. “I don’t know if you know this, but your head is detachable. You can watch yourself insert your wings. There are far too many screws to keep track of.”

“I… did not know that.” Is all Caleb can say.

“Huh. Makes sense, I guess. She pretended you were human the whole time, pretended you were Caleb.”

X-02 bites his lip, wearing it down in thought. He can’t bring himself to respond.

“You know. For all her faults, she rebirthed you with her flesh. You can decide now: half human, half machine, what side to listen to. You don’t have to do her bidding.”

A snake’s head peeks through the tall grass. Caleb sits under a tree watching its white head push through the foliage.

But it’s all her.

“Why are you helping me?” Caleb picks up the card.

“Helping you?” John sneers. “Maybe she didn’t get rid of your sense of humor in the end. You were just a machine, before she puked whatever was inside of herself into you. Don’t misunderstand me, X-02. I hate this place. I’ve hated it longer than you’ve been alive. Both your lives. I simply want it gone. That’s all. I don’t care how anymore.”

With that, Caleb disappears in the blue of early morning.

The snake tilts its head at the empty tree. The apple, already gone with no need for justification or reason. Logic escapes paradise, instead, a blackened machine stands in its place. Reborn and reprogrammed only to love, to love, to love. Adam. Her voice emanates from his ribs.

What exactly did you eat?

–

A mother wraps her baby in a silk blanket. She protects him the best she can with gold jewelry and ugly names. Patting his back and swinging softly side to side. She promises everything to him. Protection, love, devotion. Bloody fingers will reach him from above. Dug out of his grave, she will cradle him and treat his body, tall and heavy, as if it were a child’s. Her fetus cut from her far too early. Umbilical cord hanging loosely, evidence of two bodies that were once one.

“Don’t forgive me.” Her only words to him.

Light entering his vision, her face shrouded by memory. Faded by time.

“I only know how to forgive you.” He squints through the blood pouring down his head under his crown of thorns.

She smiles. It never reaches her eyes.

You haven’t seen light in weeks, maybe a month. You’ve stopped counting. “It's time.” The voice becomes your salvation. You know she’s calling to you to be executed, but death lacks the heaviness it once had before your brother’s end. It has become your future, perhaps even your present. Did they kill you already? Your mind is too far away to capture. Your thoughts escape you. Only you are held captive here.

“X-02.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“What do you think of me?”

His fans whir. “I think… you are my creator.”

“Is that all?”

“I think you are kind, helpful, and resilient. Oh, not to mention highly intelligent.”

“... I see.”

“Did I upset you?”

“Is there… anything else about me? Something… less generic?”

She pulls on your arm. You hadn’t realized your body was falling. Sorry. At the tip of your tongue, yet it never leaves you. You’ve lost your voice. You’ve lost everything.

“Is there anything specific you want me to say, ma’am?”

“I don’t want anything from you. I just… I want…”

He waits.

“I wish… I wish you could make a choice. Just any choice.”

“I am.”

“No, not really you’re not–”

“I’m choosing to stay here, beside you. Am I not?”

“You don’t get it!”

There is light infiltrating your vision. She lets go of you. Oh. You see. You must walk towards your doom. Like a newborn, you shuffle your way towards the center of the rotunda. You fall. There is only silence.

“Maybe I don’t, but I’m trying to–”

“And what if you do one day!” You struggle to rise, your hands still stuck at your sides in your straitjacket. “What if, one day, you do get it! And you…”

“Then… never let me know.”

“What? You know I can’t do that!”

“You can.”

You’re sweating so much, gasping for air. It looks as if you are praying. Groveling on the floor for your sins. The only sound is your dying breath circulating, bouncing off the walls. Everyone is watching you die. Please… save me! You can’t even get the words out. How selfish of you! To have killed him, but wish for him to reach out to you. Your savior. Your hero. Your brother.

“That’s–!”

“It’s the truth. Command me. I’ll be whatever you need. So, please. Do whatever you must to keep me here.”

The lights flicker.

“Caleb…” His name, suddenly unfamiliar. Brand new.

They fall and crash. Screams burst out from the silence you’ve grown used to.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Caleb.” Your voice becomes steady.

He smiles. “I’m right here.”

An arm pushes beneath you pulling you up.

“Caleb…” You croak. A crying child calling out for its mother.

“I’m right here.” He says, right beside you.

You close your eyes.

–

“Mmm.”

“Did you have a good nap?”

You look around, bleary eyed. You attempt to push yourself up, but the ground under you is too unforgiving you end up falling back down. A hand catches your head.

“Wow! Looks like you had a pretty crazy dream.” He laughs.

Who…?

“Ah… Did you forget me?”

Did you say that out loud?

“It’s ok.” He lifts you up with ease and you finally get to look at him. He looks…

“Like an angel.”

His eyes widen before quickly softening. “Well, you made me. I would hope you like how I look.” He chuckles, head down clearly embarrassed.

What does that mean? You want to ask, but you feel like you shouldn’t have to.

He looks at you. Purple dots darting up and down. “Hm… Doesn’t seem like you’re hurt anywhere. That’s good.”

You blink.

“Do you want to sleep more?”

Your head nods before you’re able to process what you’re doing.

“You never were able to wake up on time.”

Who are you to me?

“I’m your most important person.” He says with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

Huh? You’re sure you didn’t say that out loud.

“Come on. Sleep on my shoulder. I know you want to!”

You climb into his lap instead. Shoving your arms under his armpits and holding his shoulders. You rest your head against his chest.

“That works too.”

He’s warm. “I love you…” It comes out of you instinctually.

He stills.

“Goodnight… my most important person.” You still lack the knowledge to refer to him as anything else, but you assume he's telling the truth. It's the only thing you can assume.

“I love you too.” He says. “Maybe a little more than you realize.”

You're already asleep.

–

“Caleb!”

“Whaat!”

“What are you–! Haaa…. You're too far away! Slow down!”

“I can't hear you!”

“Slow down!!!”

“Naah! Run faster!”

“You suck!”

“Nope! I think you just suck at running!”

“You big dummy! I’m gonna wish–!”

“Can't hear you!”

“I'm gonna wish that you can never leave my side!!!”

“Then you're gonna have to learn to run faster than that!”

“I hate you!”

“I know you don't!”

Summer ends with the roaring engine of a plane soaring in the blue sky. Two fingers catch it in a peace sign.

I wish…