Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A binome strolled through the revolving glass doors into the vast foyer of the Admin’s Tower. He stopped, looked around, inhaled the heady scent of totalitarianism and smiled.

Behind the reception desk, Number Three looked up. "Windows!” they exclaimed, “We had heard the Televisions were after you. Did you not get taken to room 1100101?"

"I did," replied Windows, "And I am glad for it. I saw the error message in my ways and have corrected my faulty code. I only wish I had processed my malfunctions sooner."

Number Three clapped their hands. "Oh I am so relieved you are no longer a traitor. Welcome back! And long live the Admin!"

"Long live the Admin!" Windows saluted. 

He walked across the foyer, head held high. Binomes all around him stared and gawped. There were whispers about treachery, deception, defiance. Someone hid behind a potted palm in panic. But Windows only nodded, waved, and marched on.

Let them look. I am a binome who has been hunted by the Televisions and lived to tell the ReadMe file. I am reset!

He entered one of the many lifts. It was full and yet everyone somehow managed to move aside and make space as he sauntered in. It wouldn't do to touch the renegade.

"Does the Ministry know you're back?" a tall One binome sneered over a pile of books he was carrying.

"Why yes, yes they do,” Windows replied. “I have, infact, been mailed here straight from the Ministry, ready to take on my new position."

"New position?" The tall binome snorted scornfully. "They're getting slack. A promotion is undeserved."

"But isn't it fair and just to be shown the error message of one's ways and be permitted to restart?" Windows rolled his shoulders and exhaled. "I finally feel free. Liberated. How did I not see the extent of the Admin's genius until now?"

Someone applauded but the tall binome said no more. When the lift stopped on the next floor, the tall binome slipped out, followed by several others.

As the lift ascended again, Windows hummed an airy tune.

"I thought you worked on a lower level, Windows?" a Zero queried. She stood to his right and held a briefcase. "Have you changed directories?"

Windows tapped his hands together. "Yes, I have. I am very excited. The Ministry made me see that I am capable of so much more than basic sums. Let me wrangle some engineering functions or statistics! I am moving up the table!"

"Good for you," the Zero replied. She got out on the next floor.

The lift ascended, stopped, ascended, stopped, and steadily emptied until there was just Windows and a Number Eight left.

"Did I hear you right, Windows?" Number Eight asked. "That you were heading to Engineering? Or was it Statistics?"

Windows hummed another tune and caught Number Eight's eye. He smiled brightly, nodded, but did not say a word.

Eight gave Windows the once over as if something bothered him deeply. "We're way above both Engineering and Stats now," they elucidated slowly and carefully.

"Ah. Yes we are, aren't we?" Windows agreed blithely before his voice deepened abruptly to a heavy baritone. "Pity."

The lights went out.

When the lift next stopped and the doors pinged open, Number Eight emerged and strode out. 

And Number Eight remained passed out, slumped in a corner of the lift.

"Argh!!" Windows yelled, waking with a start.

Dot turned and looked at him. He looked panicked, terrified, distraught. 

"I was wondering if you were ever going to come back online,” she said. “You've been out for seconds."

"Seconds? That long?" Windows rubbed his head and began to absorb his surroundings - Dot, the massive trees, and the multitudes of sleeping dogs surrounding both him and Dot like a fortification.

"Did it work?" he asked. "Did the virus shapeshift into me?"

“Yes he did.”

Windows paused, swallowed. "It's not come back yet?"

Dot shook her head. "No.” A sigh. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this. The pair of you."

“It is a risk but that virus's abilities are an asset. Why not utilise them?"

"You don't know him, you don't know viruses. I only hope he keeps his word."

Windows gave her an appraising look. "You said yourself you have some influence over it. So what have we got to lose?"

'Only an entire system ,' her inner voice jibed.

Dot opened her clenched fist. In her palm was one of Megabyte's chess pieces, the Queen. She'd been carrying it around since he'd departed, gripping the damn thing like a talisman. She garnered some small comfort from the knowledge that, if she squeezed it, her dog would be back before the sharp crown had had a chance to pierce her flesh.

So why haven't I done just that? I should bring that dip switch to heel already, just tighten my grip a little…

But something was holding her back. Perhaps it was hope. Or perhaps it was rationale. It may well be that Megabyte couldn't or wouldn't travel too far away. Had he not lamented that being distant from her vexed him, irritated his 'protective drive'?

I hope he's suffering.

The nights came and went. One after another after another. Dot and Windows occupied themselves talking about everything and nothing.

"I think there was a plant in the Fellowship," Windows bemoaned as he tried madly to diagnose the catalyst for his near-arrest. "I just can't identify who it might have been."

He then began to pour his heart out and talk about Java. She was his secret love. They had met at the meetings of the Fellowship, but their relationship, their affection for one another, had been an unwitting act of defiance.

Windows explained to Dot how love was frowned upon in Cloud One. The system required all personal affection and devotion be directed to the Administrator and the system's wellbeing, and nothing else. Even coprocessing children was only sanctioned as a duty to generate the Admin’s next generation of workers.

But, in the end, Java was perhaps merely one of multiple reasons the Televisions had come for him.

"They tried to drag me to Room 1100101," Windows had lamented. "I played along for a while, but then I escaped. Only just."

"And what happens in Room 1100101?" Dot had queried, confused.

Windows had explained that the mission of the TVs wasn't to destroy dissenters; it was to save them, to convert them, to make them good citizens. A fate worse than deletion. Perhaps that was where the drones came from.

"I wonder if Java evaded capture? If anyone else from the Fellowship did?" he pondered aloud. "Perhaps your virus will find out."

Dot was doubtful, but she tried not to dull Windows's optimism.

Dot, in turn, found herself telling Windows about her family. She talked about her dad, about Enzo, even a little about her few memories of her mother. She told him about the accident in Mainframe's twin city, the tragic nullification of hundreds, the loss of her father, and the arrival of two viruses and a Guardian.

Windows was fascinated.

But the more Dot shared, and the more she reflected on her life, the more she realised that she was stuck in a loop; an animated gif, repeating itself over and over. She would get close to Bob, then she would lose him or push him away; she would become a leader, and then crash and burn, lose herself. She would care for Enzo, try to educate him, then he would go off the rails. And she felt, more and more, as though she was losing sight of what the end goal was, of what she wanted. What did she need? What was it all for? 

I had wanted children, hadn't I? Bob and I were going to get married; go on a honeymoon to beautiful and glorious systems, then come back, settle down, and think about a family.

Such heavy overthinking made the nights long. The seconds came and went without incident whilst she and Windows became increasingly restless and hungry. Windows's sachet stash was running low.

She fell into a fever dream one night. It was her birthday and Bob was with her and they were dancing. Bob had huge sharp teeth and was wearing a monkey suit. His eyes were red. The dance floor was never ending, tiled in blue and green. Little Enzo was sitting on a tall stool and in his arms was that big green guitar Megabyte had gifted him cycles ago. He played it aggressively, and it got louder and louder and louder.

"Why did it take us so long?" Dot asked Bob as they waltzed. "What was stopping us?"

"You wanted more."

"What?"

He smiled, all fangs. "You don't want someone to be kind and gentle. You want fire and risk and danger. You want someone as driven as you, as hungry, as ruthless."

Bob leaned in toward her suddenly, opening his mouth to kiss - or was it to bite? Rows of sharp teeth. 

Enzo was still playing that stupid guitar with gusto, a horrific discordant cacophony. She realised he was wearing one of Hexadecimal’s masks and, when he started to laugh, it was her laugh.

Dot placed her hand over Bob's face, pushed him back, tried to twist out of his grasp. Her head was pounding, the music was so loud, the laughing was malicious…

With a snap, she woke and squinted in the blazing light of a campfire. She could still hear that damn guitar.

As she raised her head and rubbed her eyes, her vision focused and she wondered if she was still dreaming. She could see Megabyte sat on a fallen log and he was indeed playing a guitar. Windows was perched next to him and there was a small group of binomes on the ground, sitting in a circle, listening to the virus play. The campfire crackled amidst them. 

What in the Net is going on? Have they all gone random? Or have I gone random?

In her rush to get to her feet, she stumbled.

Instantly she saw Megabyte's head shoot up. His playing ceased. 

Ah my loyal protector, ready to stop me getting hurt.

She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders and got up with a little more care. She then marched over to the cheery little gathering and stopped at the edge of the campfire, folding her arms and leaning her weight onto one hip. She tapped her foot aggressively.

Windows and the other binomes - who she realised at once were other Fellowship members - didn't say a word, but they all exchanged glances and, following a gesture from Windows, began to move away.

Dot glowered at Megabyte as the others dispersed. "Where have you been?" she yelled, every syllable a thunderclap.

Megabyte looked at her amicably as he twanged a string on the guitar then silenced it with the flat of his hand. “Well hello to you too, Dot. Do sit down.”

She didn't. "I was beginning to think that the Guardians had erased your ASCII."

His jaw shifted side to side. "I'm afraid not. There was alas no sign or trace of them."

Dot's brow furrowed. “How do you do it?" She flicked her hand in the direction of the departing binomes. "You make people laugh and joke with you, given half a chance, and yet look at you. You’re an absolute monster to behold.”

Megabyte chuckled quietly. “My, how shallow of you. Thankfully the User blessed me with the gregarious personality of a social creature. Life and soul of any party.” He grasped the guitar by its neck, lifted it from his lap and leaned it against the tree trunk.

"Stop treating me like I'm Basic."

"Well perhaps you warrant such treatment? Why be so irked by the duration of my absence? Have you not had the power to recall me at any instant?" He paused, raised his brow. "So direct your rage a little more inwardly, perhaps."

She scowled and shifted the focus. "Where did you find those binomes? How did you find them? What are you playing at? And where did you find a guitar, of all things?" She indicated the instrument.

“Slow down, please. I cannot answer all your queries at once." He cleared his throat then lifted a finger. "Firstly, the binomes found me ." He lifted another. "You can ask them to expound on that." Finally, he raised a third. "And you would be amazed by what I discovered in the Admin’s tower. The guitar was the least of it.”

"You are so arrogant and attention seeking! You didn't need a guitar!"

Megabyte got to his feet and ambled right up to her. "Come now, let me have a small indulgence. Will it please you to hear that I also picked up some useful files? Schematics, maps, charts?" He tilted his head. "Aren't you pleased with your little dog?"

"Not especially. But never mind." She held out her hand. "Hand them over."

"The files? And where do you expect me to transfer them to? Your body won't do, I'm afraid."

Her expression remained acidic. "That’s not funny. Where are they?"

He knocked a fist against his crown. "In here, of course. Safely stored. I am fortunately an amalgamation of man and machine."

"Great, so you're practically holding them hostage? ASCII.”

"Ah. You did not think about this eventuality. That the documents I purloin might not be readily accessible. Dear me, you're slipping."

"I thought someone with half a brain might download files in a readable format. Or, I don't know, perhaps even bring along a datapad?"

"Oh I see, not only am I expected to pilfer files like a common pirate, I must scavenge software and hardware, and perhaps even convert the format? What do you take me for?"

"I don't think you want to hear the answer to that."

His lips quirked. "Nevermind. Let us not waste breath on argument.” He rubbed his knuckles against his breast, ground his teeth and gave her one of his looks. “You had best come up with an ingenious solution. I've done my bit."

Dot rolled her eyes. "We're in a forest, in case you haven't noticed."

"Clever girl. Thank you for that input. Perhaps we need to be in the city?"

She could see that look in his eyes. He knew exactly how he wished to move forward.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"Would you like to get inside my head?"

"If I wanted to do that, I'd get a tin opener."

He laughed heartily then chucked up her chin with a single talon. "I quite like you, Dot Matrix."

She snorted a clumsy laugh out her nose. It wasn't that she found it particularly funny, but it caught her off-guard. Perhaps that's why she laughed. She was unnerved by the intimation.

Megabyte gave her a suave look. "I'm glad you find that amusing."

"Oh shut down. You only like yourself."

He bared all his teeth in a grin. "Calumny."

"Puh-lease. How about you stop prattling and tell me everything you've been up to?”

Megabyte heaved a deep sigh before he acquiesced and began to patiently recount his exploits. He started from the moment he had taken on Windows's guise and returned to the city, then expounded on how he had surrendered to the Televisions, allowed himself to be taken to the infamous Room 1100101, and was then forced to watch the TVs deliver their ominous broadcasts. 

"It was quite an education, to experience the means and methods of another autocracy at work. I felt quite inspired. This Administrator has devised a process whereby binomes are tortured and manipulated, their thoughts and perceptions transmuted, until they conform. I naturally played my part very well and complied in no time. Once 'Windows's' indoctrination, his therapy, was complete, they sent him - me - and his sparkling new attitude back to work. How fortuitous that this meant I was sent to the Admin's tower."

Dot found his tale hard to process. "I don't believe they'd send Windows back to work just like that. Especially to the Admin's tower. And I don't believe you'd suffer for this cause."

"I have been suffering since we unceremoniously landed in this system. You underestimate a virus's resilience." He gave her a significant look. 

She pulled a face and mimicked playing a very small violin.

He made another of his perfunctory sighs. "To be frank, this might all have been avoided if your good friend Windows hadn’t put paid to our Television hostage. It may have yielded all the intel we needed, given a little more time."

"Or it might not,” Dot countered. “We can hardly blame Windows." A pause. "You still haven't explained the guitar.”

“Ah, quite right.” 

Megabyte continued his story, elaborating on his journey through the Admin’s tower, how he finally dropped his guise as Windows and began shifting from binome to unwitting binome, picking and choosing victims by chance. He told Dot how he had rummaged in archival rooms, accessed inventories, thieved files and data, and even discovered a store full of random items and add-ons, much of it strange and utterly out of context in a system like Cloud One. Amongst his finds was a guitar.

"I was quite cheered by my discovery. I couldn't leave such bounty behind."

Dot blinked at him. “I have no words.”

"Would you like me to find you a search engine?"

She groaned. “Good grief, you’re unbearable. How many cameras caught your shapeshifting? How many security systems did you trigger? You essentially left a trail of cookies for them to follow. I'm astonished you bothered to disguise yourself at all."

"My dear, this system has been more than aware of us since you first entered that city, make no mistake. My sally in and out of the tower does not change that. It is best we assume they know everything and act quickly. We now have more than enough intel at our disposal to inform our choices and enable us to find a way out of here." He paused. "If you find a means for me to share these files with you, that is. And if you deign to put your trust in me."

"I can never trust you."

Megabyte laughed gently. "Oh but you do or else you would have recalled me long before now." He lifted a finger and his expression brightened somewhat. "Perhaps I might pacify your belligerence? I would not return to my monarch from a crusade empty handed. I found a little gift for you.”

Dot wrinkled her nose, felt herself cringe inwardly. “Are you serious? What else have you dragged out here with that stupid guitar?”

His smirk deepened. He returned to the fallen log and reached behind it before he swiftly hid whatever it was behind his back and sauntered back up to her. 

She gave him a pitying look. "Please stop, I'm getting second hand embarrassment."

Megabyte apparently took pride in her squirming. "You really are too easy to bait," he jested in a low tone before he presented his offerings to her, obeisance paid in his golden talons.

Dot didn't have time to temper her reaction. Her face lit up before she could pause it. “A pair of .45s?” 

She reached out greedily and grabbed the two handguns before she lifted them in front of her face and turned them around with reverence.

She froze, gave him an accusatory look. "If you expect me to go on a murderous rampage, think again."

"No, no. I simply thought you'd appreciate the ability to defend yourself."

"I shouldn't need to with you on total recall."

"True. But how do I know I can cover every eventuality?"

"Hmm," she nodded grudgingly. "Well. I hope they're loaded."

Megabyte laughed. "So rude. A 'thank you' would do."

She felt the corner of her mouth prick up. "Thank you, then.”

She noticed the subtle arch of his brow before he bowed his head. “You are most welcome.”

Dot fought the pull, stepped back. “You can’t tell me these were just lying around?” She lifted the guns, gave them a little wave.

Megabyte shrugged lazily. “I took a casual stroll around their armoury. And please, before you arrive at the notion yourself, may I politely request that you do not turn those firearms on me?”

Dot smirked and shoved one of the guns under his jaw. “Okay,” she quipped.

A deep, delighted chortle rumbled across Megabyte's chest and up into his throat. His pupils dilated and Dot felt the visual caress. He dropped to one knee and then to the other in front of her, dragging the gun down with him. There was fire in his eyes, an impish subservience in his manner. It gave her a thrill she did not wish to acknowledge or own.

She swallowed.

Megabyte leaned more firmly against the barrel of her gun. It was a challenge, a dare.

So Dot upped the stakes and pressed the second gun between his breastplates. "Aren't you going to fight back?" she taunted.

Megabyte sniggered. "No, no. It's quite refreshing to surrender for once.” He paused, his smile widened. “Particularly to one as delightful as yourself."

Dot rolled her eyes. And yet, as benign and lighthearted as his voice was, it carried an undercurrent which made her stomach clench.

She let her arms go loose, let the firearms dangle, then raised her foot, pointed her toes against Megabyte's chest, and gave him a shove. 

He did not resist and went over like a rag doll. His wires and plates clattered against the floor. He was still grinning.

Dot moved to his side, placed her foot on his chest and pinned him.

He stared up at her with a toothy, open grin. He looked enthralled, was drawing deep, tumultuous breaths, thunderous waves.

Dot would once have called the look in his eyes strange. But now she understood, she recognised the emotion. Because she felt it too.

The realisation gave her cold feet and shame. She stepped back, turned away, gasped greedily for air as if she was drowning.

She heard Megabyte sigh and get back to his feet. "I am not as good at this as I thought," he jested amicably.

Dot scoffed and glanced at him. He didn't appear annoyed. Perhaps slightly confused. Which was almost a victory in itself. 

"Sorry," she muttered, though she wasn't sure if she was talking to him or just herself.

His reaction was mild amusement. "Sorry? Whatever for?"

"Nevermind. Clear your cache." 

He chortled again but did not pursue the matter.

Dot's fingers absentmindedly tensed and relaxed. Why don't I just shoot him? Why shouldn't I? He's giving me this power freely. A dangerous gamble.

Her eyes darted back onto Megabyte. He was still watching her, studying her, as unperturbed as ever. A natural predator, all patience and stillness. He had that smug, knowing look, as though he could read her thoughts. As though he was still testing her.

Her guard went up, fingers flexed again. She felt a bead of sweat on her brow. Her heart was pounding. She took a deep breath, tried to settle the palpitations. She felt cold, lost and flustered. Betrayed by herself.

Megabyte's eyes traversed her body from head to foot. Such scrutiny, undesired, should make her feel unclean, but the way he was doing it was almost reverential, as though he was seeing her for the first time; his expression was disquieted, almost pathetic.

She shuddered, wiped her brow. 

And as quickly as that, she felt like her usual self again, felt the ground beneath her feet.

"Enough with this stalling. We need to move fast. Especially since you've left untold damage in your wake."

He picked up the guitar. "'Damage'? Tsk. What do you take me for?"

"An animal," she countered without missing a beat, turning on him and pressing a gun into his abdomen.

He smirked, tensed his stomach, arched backwards from his hips, then reached out a single claw and pushed the barrel of the gun aside. "Perhaps wait until you have found a clear path out of this system before you erase me. I still have my uses."

"I think I can manage without you."

He snickered. "Such ingratitude."

"Such conceit."

Megabyte looked her up and down again then turned and casually retook his seat on the fallen tree. He settled the guitar back in his lap and strummed a jolly little tune. "Let us move on. Do you recall the uninhabited sector I previously mentioned?"

Dot spun the guns in her hands and caught them again. "Yes," she replied.

He continued to play the guitar, looking down at the strings. "It is something of a dead zone."

"Doesn't sound useful."

Megabyte sighed archly. "Oh Dot, stop being so angry and process what I am saying."

She held a gun up once more, aimed it playfully at his head, gave him aggressive eye contact.

He stared straight down the barrel back at her. "The Admin's scrutiny, their surveillance network, cannot function in any area which is dearth of signal. It is beyond their reach and power. Which is why, one assumes, the area is unoccupied."

Dot was unimpressed. "I am still failing to see its use to us."

"There can be no doubt that our presence in this forest is known, particularly after my heist, the exodus of several binomes and the loss of a Television. The assumption will have been made that we have taken up with the resistance. Thus they will want to keep us outside their walls where we are at our least effective. But if we invade and create our own territory, hijack their infrastructure, conceal our activity where they have little opportunity to witness it, we can surely act more frequently and with more efficiency?"

"We don't have any tools or equipment. Well, except for a guitar and a pair of .45s."

"You'd be surprised what can be made from nothing." He then leered. "And you're forgetting our trump card. We have me."

"Save me. They'd just trap us in and choke us out. Have you forgotten the firewall we once strangled you with? Or maybe they'd just annihilate us whilst we slept? You do not have an ABC army at your disposal anymore."

"But thankfully I happen to have an army of wild dogs. Isn't that smashing?"

"Your dogs can't read those files for me."

"Haha. Quite right. So shall we find something that can?"

He was steering her. She shouldn't let him.

"I honestly can’t process why you came back," she blurted out tangentially.

He tilted his head and gently twanged a string. "Excuse me?"

"Whilst you were moseying around the Admin's tower, what stopped you from simply taking over the system? Zombifying the entire tower? Or from just taking off? Why come back to me?"

He chortled. "I am a little confused. Are you saying that when you tell me not to do something, you actually intend the opposite?"

"I just don't see how you can avoid such temptation. Are you even Megabyte? Or are you hiding something?"

"I can be very restrained when needed." He cocked an eyebrow. "Besides, it would not do to rush in without an idea of what one is rushing into. And how could I leave my precious charge alone and undefended?"

She didn't even deign to respond to that. "Are you afraid of something? Is there something here more powerful than you?"

"I am perhaps looking at it."

"You're full of trash."

"And you are as charming as ever." Megabyte turned his head down and began to play another tune. "Do you still sing? Perhaps we could compose something together in our idle moments?"

“Log off. This is serious.”

And it was like she'd flicked a switch; the ringmaster cracked her whip and the lion roared. 

Megabyte cast aside his guitar and shot to his feet like a beast roused. Silver cables wrapped around her wrists, her arms were levered down, and he wrenched her against him.

She grunted on impact then glared up at him, breathing ruggedly.

"I am being serious," he growled down at her.

Dot wasn't scared of him. What could he do? He couldn’t hurt her. His every action was tempered by that. But she was scared of something else; a feeling indescribable, tantalising, sensual. 

She succumbed to a sly whim, licked her lip, and when Megabyte's eyes duly followed every slip and curl of her tongue, she felt a terrifying thrill. This wasn't an altercation.

"Let go," she whispered, commanded.

Megabyte didn't respond straight away. Had he heard her? His gaze flowed over her features as though he were committing her to memory. He looked ambivalent, his head bobbing, unable to resolve whether to lean back or press forward.

"Let. Go," Dot repeated. 

Megabyte lowered his head until his nose touched hers and he rubbed against it. "You have such a temper," he purred.

She closed her eyes, inhaled shakily, but she pushed back, rubbed her nose against his. Instinctual, hungry, teetering on the brink. Taking ownership of this power.

Did she imagine his groan, his inhalation, the bowing of his body like a tree in a tempest? It was impossible to know. But all of a sudden his grip loosened and his cables slid from her. 

As she opened her eyes again, she saw him step back and raise both hands in mock supplication.

Dot scowled, her mouth twisted, she aimed a gun once again at his head, and her finger tensed on the trigger. 

His smile widened.

With an angry grunt, she spun on her heels and a loud 'Bang!' echoed through the woodland. 

The dogs remained asleep. The binome group gawped.

Dot exhaled coolly and lowered the gun. "Well. They are loaded after all."

A tree now bore a livid scar. 

"Yes they are," Megabyte murmured. "Do you feel better now?"

Dot's eyes darted back onto him, fixed him with a look of fire. "Just know that could've been your head."

He flashed her one of his infernal grins. "So uncouth." He opened his arm back toward the fallen log. "Shall we perhaps stop making a scene and start making a plan?"

She shouldered forcefully past him but couldn't help her smirk. "Nothing wrong with making a scene," she retorted.