empirical_data | RP for haughty

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RP for haughty_alpha

Who: Data | Kerr Avon | The Seventh Doctor
What: The Doctor uses his TARDIS to allow Avon into Data's mind, and not only save him but see how much Data cares for him.
When: At the end of Lore Plot.
Warnings and Notes: Continued from here...

Data had finally gotten to a particular leather clad android on his dreamscape, a strange piston churning away in the exposed portion of it's head.

Seeing the man at odds like that was a bit disconcerting, unsettling, and again he was left to wonder why. The other 'androids', rational embodiment of his failing memory in his subconscious, worked at reconstructing the broken "village". All of it one continuous symbolism for the damage Lore's machine had done to him. It had nearly collapsed his systems. The destroyed village his net. The android citizens his memories. The cool weather the difficulty his power systems were having keeping up.

This android was a symbol of someone that he couldn't quite remember yet, but somehow knew he needed to. He settled cross-legged in the rubble, pulling his upper half into his lap so he could tend to the damage. Gold eyes remained intent on the individual, expression only flickering when bits of memory burgeoned up.

And then the android woke, pulled away, and stood. Data was left with a mixture of elation and horror, noting the very organic looking arm left laying not far off to the side, and he put his hands over his head. Pale fingers dug into his hair. Eyes clenched shut, every mechanical muscle tensing.

He needed to fix more of the androids. He couldn't right then. Not with that horror fresh in his mind.

~*~*~

After taking Lucy to the clinic, Seven had returned to the TARDIS, knowing that he'd left his friend right then. And he'd sat there, sticking near the ill android, knowing most of the technicians in the village were preoccupied with the unfortunate victims of the assault.

It was what his former self would have wanted.

When he noticed some disturbance in Data's net on his monitor, he decided to go and retrieve the man that had meant the most to the android. He wasn't aware of his condition yet, but when he couldn't find the man in his room, he made his way to the clinic unaware of the extent that Lore had made him suffer (and even if Avon was unsettled by the Borg, the Doctor had enough experience with invasive nanobots and Cybermen to make educated guesses on how to deal with the situation).

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The dedication tugged at his hearts a little. The same dedication he'd felt in some of his earlier selves.

"I know. My younger self staved off the initial crash, but he was ripped away before he could assist through the end of the process." He patted Avon's chest sympathetically, guiding him out past the business still going on, toward his strange little timeship.

The little man could usually be petulant and unpleasant himself, but he was exhausted himself after the ordeal. After Davros and the Borg Queen, and nearly losing another companion.

"We stopped his brother. You'll help me work out what's wrong with him and we'll come out of this completely victorious. There's no other option. We need to prove their brand of hate doesn't take the victims they suppose it does."

"I'm sorry," said, referring to the disappearance of the other Doctors. He had an idea, after all, of how it felt to experience the death of another self - after the teleport accident which had created his ill-fated duplicate.

"Lore is dead?" Part of him hoped so. Another part longed for the pleasure to destroy him personally.

"Yes, another victim, really. He was mad. But salvageable, had the Master not gotten his hooks into him. The woman that shot him was expelled from the village as well, Sarah Conner."

He manoeuvred Avon toward the blue box, fishing out his key and opening it up. With a foot in the door, he eased the man through.

The ship was indeed bigger inside than out, but given Avon's condition it was hardly the time to be impressed with such things. Especially with Data wired into the console as he was, staring vacantly up at the ceiling on a gourney, lost in whatever was going on in his net.

"I've got to get you to medical, come along..." he insisted as he eased him through the console room.

Avon didn't consider Lore to be 'salvageable' - the risk to Data would be too great, in his opinion. But he didn't argue. The disappearance of the woman was unfortunate, but not his concern. "And - Travis?" Avon hoped very much that the one-eyed lunatic had been left for him to deal with.

As they approached the TARDIS, he couldn't help giving a wry smile. After all the time he'd spent plotting how to get access to one...

All thoughts were driven from his mind, however, when he saw Data. He tried to pull away, to go to him, but his exhausted body didn't want to obey him; he staggered in the Doctor's grip. "Data...what has that creature done to him?"

"Gone, as far as I know."

When Avon nearly pulled out of his grip, the smaller man's hold got a little firmer, not letting him tug loose nor fall. "The machine was formatted for Lore. When Data hooked himself to it was completely the wrong operating system. He's manifesting his injuries as part of his dream program. I need you to help talk him through it." Loathe as he was to admit it, he was fond of the android but not quite as close. He preferred the company of roughians and generally intolerable folk more than his former selves. It was his offensive and unrelenting optimism. He doubted he could appeal to Data as his younger self did.

But give up? No. The man's fiancee, oddly enough, was primed to assist Data in the matter.

Still holding to Avon, he slipped near the console and flipped some levers. Immediately the voice of the Collective quieted, the outside effectively blocked off in the interior of the ship. "If I can get you properly situated I should be able to let you engage him."

Avon's lip curled. "You mean he ran off. Cowardly bastard."

He let out a short gasp of relief as the Borg voice released him; it was like a clamp letting go in his mind. "Ah - thank you." He closed his eyes, allowing himself to revel for a moment in the wonderful silence. Then he pulled himself together and returned his attention to Data.

"I understand. Tell me what to do."

"He disappeared actually. I suppose he's escaped you. But now I need you to do what you were just doing, unfortunately. Just with him. I can take you to the infirmary and put you under a scanner, work on ridding you of these nanites and healing your injuries. I can hook you up to a network while I'm doing that.

"You see, if we don't convince him to keep repairing himself, to figure out how to wake himself up, then he's not going to." Another few toggles and tuggles and he had the viewscreen showing Data crouched and hugging his knees, still sitting in the rubble futiley trying to collect himself as other figures milled about.

"All of those are android versions of people he knows. The best I figured was that they represented memories. The village, and the damage to the androids, is what the machine did to him. You need to keep him repairing himself."

The last sentence he added with some urgency. The TARDIS was very fond of Data. Very much so, even now. And she spurred on a more extreme state of unrest.

Avon flinched at the image on the screen. Data looked so...lost. It sent a pang through him - fear, despair. But he said confidently, "fine. Hook me up and I'll do what needs to be done."

Seven thumped Avon's shoulder, both in support and consolation, and started to guide him through to the infirmary. The set up was that bizarre mix of futuristic and levers. The machine was odd that way.

"Lay down on the bed," he motioned to the one in the centre of the room with a scanner over it. "While you're out, I'll clean out some of these nanobots and keep an eye on his condition. If he starts spiralling down, I'm pulling you out."

No matter what Avon might think, the Doctor saw no use in losing two lives today.

Avon took a deep breath that entirely failed to calm him. "All right," he said, in a voice so small it embarrassed him to hear it. He lay down, folded his hands on his chest, and closed his eyes. After a moment he said, more steadily,

"No. Don't pull me out, whatever happens." He had to be clear on that. If he lost Data, he lost everything. There would be no impetus to save his own battered consciousness.

Seven would still try, even despite the request. But he fixed a couple of wires with suction cups to Avon's temples, adding nothing of that thought. "It will feel like you're going to sleep. Just settle in and relax, and you'll start dreaming in a-"

Suddenly it wasn't so much Avon on a table, as Avon in the battered village. The androids Data had managed to repair working on the buildings, attempting to set everything right.

Data, though, was still hunched some distance away, trying to collect himself as he was looking over the still disabled form of his brother and the disembodied arm that had appeared after reactivating the android representing Avon. Looking for the most part utterly alone.

Startled for a moment by the sudden transition, Avon shivered and rubbed his arms, looking around him.

There was Data. Sitting next to...Avon winced, his lip curling in distaste. He approached, nonetheless, slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle the android. He tried to ignore the rest of the dreamscape, focussing on his fiance.

"Data? Data, can you hear me?"

Data looked up, a bit startled at first. But then... looked just the slightest bit distressed.

"Avon? ...Are you a component of this dream program?" As if Avon would answer that he was if he were. "...What did I make you do?"

"Data..." Avon came closer and crouched before him, almost afraid to touch him, in case physical contact somehow disrupted the dreamscape. "Data, listen to me. I'm not a part of the program. I'm here, and real. I'm going to help you get through this. You're not alone."

He frowned over the last question. "You didn't make me do anything."

Data couldn't remember why this arm was there... or what it connected with. Just that Avon had done it. And somehow he had been responsible for it.

Data reached out and did the touching, anyway. He wrapped his arms around Avon's shoulders, leaning into him.

"You feel real. I do not... know how I am supposed to wake up. I do not know who this is. I am supposed to fix them all, but I am afraid. I can not even locate my emotion chip to deactivate it."

He didn't even know if he could deactivate it at all.

Relieved, Avon returned the embrace, holding Data close against him. "I am real, I promise you. And we will get you out of here. You mustn't stop fighting. You have to keep repairing yourself. I will do all I can to help, but for all intents and purposes, it is down to you."

He breathed machine-hot breath against Avon's shoulder, eyes clenched tight as he gripped at very real feeling leather. How was he supposed to wake up. How was he supposed to realize this was a dream.

Then, almost tentatively, he realized something. There was pain here. Avon's mind was working as he felt Picard's once do. There was something mechanical in it, and it was a deeper understanding than any dream knowledge can provide.

"Avon... How can I feel what you are thinking?" If only he could separate himself from this illusion, he could try to look deeper.

But the longer he waited, the colder the temperature got. If he didn't take care, he would start dreaming those cryptic snowflakes again. The ones that were utterly familiar.

Avon rubbed Data's back, trying to warm him. "Lore put some kind of nanites inside me," he said. "Borg technology. They're letting me communicate with you. The Doctor is keeping the Borg voice at bay." He kept his tone light and soothing.

"I do not know who that is..." Data admitted. And indeed, several bodies still littered the rubble. Lore. Travis. Kivas Fajo. People he hadn't felt comfortable touching.

But being unable to remember them was symptoms of deeper errors, ones he was ignoring to not repair them.

Well now. That was going to present a problem.

"You don't remember him? I'm sorry, Data - I really am sorry, but I think that you have to. I would let you forget if I could, but if you're going to survive this you need to accept it - all of it. Lore was your brother, Data."

"My brother? I had a brother?"

It wasn't him, then. This horrifying figure that looked like him that he was so afraid of. He slowly let go of Avon, crawling over to that duplicate of his form, hands still jittering as he contemplated fixing him.

"Why am I so afraid of him?"

"Because...because he wasn't very nice." Avon found himself almost smiling at the absurdity of the understatement. "He tried to hurt you and the people you care about. Repeatedly. It is his fault that you are in this situation now." Avon followed Data, keeping close to him. "You don't need to be afraid of him. He's gone. This is a representation of him." He looked down at the broken body with revulsion.

"He is gone..." he repeated, as if trying to convince himself of it. It seemed doubtful, somehow. Whoever this was wasn't gone. He wasn't gone at all.

Data slowly set about fixing his brother, hands still wavering, looking practically anguished as he did so. "I should have... tried harder. I did not want to be the only one..."

But a grim realization set in. One that he was ashamed of. It should never have been the case. How could he ever call Avon on what he'd done when he thought like this. "He was my brother, Avon. And I wanted to kill him before wanting to save him."

He needed to fix him all the way, but it was so hard...

"He cannot hurt you anymore," Avon said firmly.

"Yes, he was your brother, but he was cruel, capricious, and dangerous. He could have killed everyone in the village, wiped out hundreds of lives. You didn't want to kill him. You felt it was your responsibility to save everyone else from him."

Avon looked down at the broken android. "And he is still your responsibility. You must repair in order to repair yourself. Whatever he did, he is a part of you, and always will be."

Had he not wanted to kill him? If he had been able to help Avon, if he'd been able to trap Lore, there was the chance that eventually he could have helped him. Instead, he was roped in by a being that fed his madness.

A responsibility. It was a responsibility to save, not to murder, and he took the easy road. The good of many in this case could have been the good of all.

He nodded numbly and continue to fix the android until it was operating again. It got up and roamed off, and the moment it was reactivated he settled back onto his haunches with a look of distress.

There was still the one in the eyepatch and the short one with the unkind sneer he had to go through. All the others had been so easy that it made little sense to him. Some of them people that he'd lost. "Avon... if I manage to repair these... can we go? I believe I have been introduced to the bad habit of running away. I want to go."

Avon watched the facsimile of Lore as it wandered off, then, following Data's gaze, his eyes came to rest on the model of Travis. The urge to smash it to pieces was quickly replaced by a sickly sense of what he could only describe as guilt, when he saw Data's distressed face.

"We can go anywhere you like," he said. "Go anywhere, do anything. I promise." He would have promised anything if it gave Data what he needed to save himself. Besides, he was not willing to risk any kind of repeat of this situation. The village was mercurial, cruel; it snatched people away, brought others who were dangerous, allowed its inhabitants to suffer and die. Avon had once said that he would not allow the village to bully him, or Data either; he had failed in that promise. The village had made a liar out of him.

"Yes...we can go."

He didn't want to make another friend just to lose them again. "I am tired of losing people, Avon. Most of these people-" he glanced around the village, at the shambling androids going about repairs "-this is all that remains of them to me. Their roles in my memories and contributions to my character."

Still laying on a bench where he'd put her was the still form of Tasha. It had been repaired, but it hadn't functioned. It had remained silent. The only one that had. He still considered her his greatest loss.

Swallowing uncomfortably after gazing toward the blonde's slumped form, he reached for Travis. Avon made him a promise, and he knew he would keep it. He would no longer be in a place where making a friend was as certain as losing one. Where he wouldn't find someone that had been more family to him than any other person he'd met just to see them go time and time again.

"I can do it." He said, promising himself just as much as his fiancé as he started repairing the one-eyed psychopath.

"I understand," Avon said. "But that is a considerable contribution...you're an android, Data, you can remember every conversation, every nuance, every moment of the way in which those people changed you. You keep them alive in a way no human ever could. As long as you live, they can never truly be dead."

He looked down at 'Travis', and his face twisted. "You can do it. I doubt I could - but I have always said that you are a better man than me."

He contemplated a part in an open gap in the robotic Travis's head, switching it on. A piston started to work inside of it, bits moving and churning in a way he'd never seen an androids head do before (other than Avon's representation).

The cog started a memory, and he looked at Travis sadly.

"...He liked my brother. I think they were friends. ...I know that... people seem irredeemable on occasion, but they seemed to genuinely be friends rather than using one another."

He wouldn't let himself hate him for his hostile words. Avon being possibly dead had left Data feeling as if he had nothing to lose. Travis had lost who he loved. It made sense, in a twisted way, and it was an emotion that the TARDIS let Avon clearly view and experience from Data. That sense of sympathy and pity, and the remotest bit of understanding.

Avon had never expected to feel sorry for Travis; he never had before, even when Blake had pitied him. But Blake was in some degree responsible for the monster Travis had become.

He watched the piston work, gaze distracted as he thought of Avalon, and a very different life, so far away now. He thought of the people he himself had lost, and how their deaths had made him feel. In his case, Avon had himself destroyed what was most dear to him, at least twice; in Travis' case it had been taken from him, against his will. Unsurprising, then, that Avon's anger had become self-destructive, while Travis had wanted to wreak his vengeance on the whole universe.

He blinked, shaking himself. His rationalisations, his memories, but not his feelings; not really. Data's. "You really are a remarkable person," he murmured. "I don't believe you're capable of genuine hatred.." He let out a long breath. "What I did to Travis was a mistake. I'm...sorry if it makes you think less of me."

Once he was repaired, Data sat back again and looked to Avon. "...I am. I hate the Borg." And even that emotion translated over. Though he suspected that if Avon was capable of following his train of thought, he owed them slightly. The collective prepared the human brain for thousands of minds, which meant even Data's sixty trillion thought processes could be remotely grasped by Avon's nanite addled mind.

"You have good reason to be angry..." he admitted. "If I am able to empathize with him, you can suspect what I am capable of forgiving in you." And there it was. Affection, deep and doubtless love echoed in every facet of the man's net.

Still, he suspected he could get angry, and that last body was waiting on him for repair. A short, snide looking form that needed tending to.

Avon felt the hatred over their link, but he shook his head. "The Borg are a concept. You always seem to find the good in people. Thankfully." The warmth of Data's love for him was almost overwhelming. He hoped that Data could sense how strongly it was reciprocated. He reached for the android's hand. "You know...as much as I deplore the events which brought us to this situation - I will regret the loss of this connection between us. It...is a unique experience. Whatever else your brother did, he gave us this."

He looked at the remaining body. "Just one more left, Data. Why him?"

He did feel it, and it surprised him. Not quite like his own, more organic. Human. He could feel it though, and even with this hateful form he could focus on that and not what he had to do.

"He makes me the most uncomfortable..." he admitted, though he began to work on it.

The further he went, the more memories he recalled. This man throwing acid at him to get him to change into something he found more appealing (or else be naked). Him threatening to kill people to keep Data obedient. Showing him off like a prized possession. Punishing him for disobeying...

Then there was hate. The one man Data truly did hate, even when he didn't understand what hate was. The one he was willing to kill had the Enterprise not interfered...

Avon had been wrong...this was hatred, and he wondered what this man could possibly have done to make Data react that way.

"Who was he?" he asked, softly.

He shut his eyes, attempting to reign in that emotion before he refused to finish the work at hand.

"His name was Kivas Fajo. He wished to add me to his collection of rare and unique items... No other person has treated me more like a person than this individual. I nearly killed him for vaporizing the only individual who had been kind to me during my incarceration."

Avon's jaw tightened at the thought of Data being kept in a presentation cabinet, like an automaton in a museum. "You almost killed someone out of - anger? Vengeance? I didn't know that. Under the circumstances it was entirely understandable." Avon would have done it without a second thought. "But you stopped yourself?"

"I did not. I was beamed out while the disruptor was firing... And then I lied to my Commander and said firing had not been my intention."

He was ashamed of this. Deeply so, and it was a strain to keep working on this memory. "You once asked me if I ever expressed a need for violence beyond the need to defend myself. I confirmed this to be five times... This is the one time that I actively wanted an individual dead."

"I see," Avon said, quietly. For once he was lost for words. Eventually he said, "I understand why you wanted to kill him. He kept you in a cage, Data, and he killed someone important to you. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I find that it is... I did not even have typical emotions. I should not have allowed myself to be driven to that point." Still, with some effort he managed to fix Fajo, who stood and walked off to join the others.

There, he was sustainably repairing. Even with those memories, he was going to have his chance to get away. To make new ones.

"Everyone has a breaking point," Avon said, softly. "It's human, Data."

He watched the Fajo-android walk away, sliding his arm around Data's shoulders. "Is it over?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

"...I believe I will be..." he looked up at the sky overhead, now a lot clearer, his memory of the Enterprise casting a shadow over some of the buildings.

Probably the only way Avon would ever really see it. Then again, Data would never see the Scorpio or the Liberator. "And you?"

Avon looked up at the ship too, studying it for a long moment. Then he turned to Data with a grin. "I'm always all right," he said. As long as Data was safe, it might actually be true.

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RP for haughty_alpha

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