Endless stacks of papers cluttered high on the various desks and work tables in Vincent's so-called "laboratory." There were all kinds of notes, scattered writing utensils, flash drives, etc. The only light in the room came from the glow of Vincent's monitor, displaying nothing but a blank screen.

Frustrated, the dark-haired programmer tapped the screen and a few keys on the keyboard in front of him. All he'd been met with was a white screen this time, nothing else. No dialog, no image, nothing.

Vincent had been sitting here for hours trying to figure out his own program, just as he'd done the night before, and the night before that. Every night he came home from work he immediately directed himself to his lab where he would work hard on his latest project.

"God damn it," he muttered while stressfully running a hand through his deep violet hair.

Months ago Vincent had gotten the idea to create his own AI; a digital Healthcare assistant that could help him during dangerous procedures and with organizing his mess of files and papers. Obviously, he wasn't the neatest man around.

The dual programmer and doctor was determined to finish this project if it was that last thing he did. When Vincent makes a promise; he intends to keep it no matter what. He wants just going to give up because something went wrong. He was going to fix his problem, and he was damn sure not going to just quit and move on to something else.

However he'd run out of time to work for the night.

The old grandfather clock in Vincent's hallway rang 12, signaling for him to stop working and go to bed. He'd stay longer if he could but alas, he still needed to sleep else he wouldn't be so keen to perform what he needed.

He punched the button to cut the monitor off, swinging around in his swivel chair and getting to his feet before they carried him to the door. He sighed and stepped out into the hall, running through his notes in his head and trying to determine what the problem was this time.

Maybe he needed a better hard drive, or a different medium for his program... a better computer, perhaps.

Vincent yawned into his palm and swung open his bedroom door, slipping off his jacket and falling over onto the bed in exhaustion. Had he been so exasperated with this project that even thinking about it tired him out? The stress of getting it done had been killing him, he needed a break.

Maybe after work tomorrow he'd just try and relax rather than further stressing himself out even more.

"Yeah," he muttered, "that's what I'll do..."

***

The next day at work wasn't any less stressful.

Standing beside a patient's bed, Vincent skimmed his notes. He said he'd give himself a break today, however after work. There was nothing stopping him from reading his notes before he left work.

Well, there was nothing stopping him, other than the nurses.

"Vincent!"

Elizabeth, one of the before mentioned nurses, tapped her foot in impatience and crossed her arms over her chest.

Vincent sighed and closed one of the many manila folders that contained more notes than the hospital probably did, turning on his heel to face her.

"Yes?"

Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing her bright blue eyes just as Vincent had done with his deep purple hair and monochromatic eyes. She had lightly tanned skin, and a lovely feminine frame beneath her scrubs.

"You've been requested in Mr. Schmidt's room, sir."

Mike Schmidt was one of Vincent's patients, he'd been in a coma for at least three months now. He'd been attacked by an animatronic at his work and had been in a coma ever since, the man was lucky he'd survived, even if he was in a coma.

Vincent had saved him.

"Is he awake?" Vincent asked with raised eyebrows.

Elizabeth shook her head, "no. But we think he might wake up soon."

Vincent let a small smile creep onto his lips, "wonderful."

The shorter woman nodded at him and turned toward the door at the end of the room, beginning toward it while Vincent followed.

Elizabeth wasn't small, but compared to Vincent she was. She was 5'5, Vincent was about 5'7 or 5'8. It was only a few inches, but Elizabeth's body type also made her appear small to to him.

The hallway was somewhat cluttered with bustling doctors and nurses going from room to room, though none made their way into the ICU where Mike's room was.

"You look pretty tired," Elizabeth commented as they rounded the corner into the ICU. "How late were you up last night?"

Vincent scratched the back of his neck, the nurse turning to look at him with slight concern in her eyes.

"Midnight, maybe one o'clock."

"Vincent!"

"Who are you, my mum?" Vincent rolled his blank white eyes at Elizabeth and stepped around her, pulling away the curtain leading into Mike's room.

He was still asleep, of course. Vincent had actually come to admire Mike even though the two had never spoken a work to each other. Considering his job, Mike had to be brave. Vincent also had to admit he did find him attractive.

He was a few inches shorter, tanned skin like Elizabeth's though not as dark. He seemed to be a little muscular, and when Vincent once opened his for a quick peak he noticed their beautiful navy - blue colouring. Vincent knew Mike had inky black hair before his accident, having had to cut it off before performing surgery on him.

"So, Scott thinks he's going to wake up soon?" Vincent asked, leaning over Mike's body.

"Mhm," she nodded, pursing her lips. "Maybe in the next few days."

Vincent chuckled, looking back at her. "I'll finally get to talk to him, or at least he'll respond this time."

Elizabeth smiled at him, raising an eyebrow. "You've been trying to talk to him?"

"Just about my latest project... and trying to see if he's awake."

Elizabeth didn't look convinced, but she smiled anyway. "Whatever," she then turned and left the room, pulling the curtain closed behind her.

Vincent looked back at Mike's unconscious form. "Maybe with luck, you'll both wake up..."

He didn't know really anything about Mike, he didn't even get visitors. Was he an orphan? Did he have friends, siblings?

Or had the hospital not contacted anyone during the three months had been unconscious? Odd, definitely odd...

Even if he really wasn't supposed to, Vincent was going to at least try to form a bond with Mike.

It wasn't like Vincent had any friends or family, either.

Maybe bonding with someone other than a computer would be good for him.

Vincent leaned over Mike's bed once more before he turned to leave.

"I promise, you won't be so lonely after you wake up, Michael."

***

After that shift, Vincent grabbed his folders off the counter and headed for the front doors of the hospital when he was stopped by one of the male nurses he worked with.

"Hey, Vincent!"

The man groaned and turned on his heel to face none other than Marion, a man he simply loathed to be around.

"What?" He asked tiredly.

Marion smirked at him, "heard you were working on something big."

Vincent rolled his blank eyes, "What's it to you?"

"Woah, woah!" Marion laughed and spread his hands, "I don't mean any trouble, friend! I was just curious."

Vincent glared at him, "you know. Curiosity killed the cat." He then turned away from Marion and headed out the doors toward his car.

Vincent found Marion annoying as hell. He was always trying to get into Vincent's business, acting like they were friends with in reality Vincent hated him.

He threw open his car door and sank into the driver's seat, slamming the vehicle shut and letting out a heavy sigh.

For the love of god, Vincent thought, please, please work this time.

Tonight would be the first time he'd ever broken a promise.

Vincent threw open the laboratory door, sending stacks of papers flying all over the room and scattering to the already cluttered tile floor.

He moved with haste, various papers crumbling under his shoes while he sprinted through the dimly lit room toward his monitor. He'd gotten the hard drive after work, one that could hold more data than his original hard drive. There was no way Vincent could wait another day to test it out.

If it didn't work this time, he'd go to bed. He wouldn't keep himself up any longer.

Vincent took the swivel chair in front of the monitor, swinging around to face the large, blank screen.

"Alright, Vincent... if this doesn't work you're going straight to bed."

He slid the larger metal hard drive out from the pocket of his lab coat and leaned over to the side, exchanging the original hard drive with the newer, more efficient one.

Vincent punched the power button and watched as the monitor blinked on, displaying the system login. He typed in the password, being brought to the desktop of his computer.

"All right, 02... are you going to work this time?" He asked with a light laugh, tapping the screen and launching the program he'd been using.

Just as countless times before, Vincent was met with a blank white screen. He sat and waited patiently for something to happen, but nothing came.

No dialog, no image, no nothing.

With a heavy sigh, Vincent slowly stood from his chair and pressed the power button on the monitor. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe never.

Vincent stepped over the papers scattered about the floor in his way out the door, turning back only once to see if the program has rebooted the computer and started working. No luck.

He shook his head and closed the laboratory door behind him with a bit of a slam in frustration. Why wasn't anything working? Why wouldn't the program run?

There were so many questions Vincent couldn't answer and it only made him angrier with himself for not knowing what to do.

"God damn it!" He hissed, stomping down the hallway toward his bedroom. "I've worked so ing hard for this... why isn't it working? What am I doing wrong?"

He slammed his bedroom door up against his wall in anger, not caring a single bit for the drywall he probably just put a hole through with the door handle. He began stripping off his clothes when he heard a noise.

Vincent paused, blinking and waiting a moment for something to happen.

Nothing.

He sighed and dragged his hand up his face, running his fingers through his deep purple hair in frustration. He needed to cool down, the way he's acting is highly immature for someone like him.

Dismissing it, he turned back to his room and gently closed the door, peeling out of his clothes and replacing them with the comforter on his bed.

***

Vincent was later awoken that night by a loud electronic hiss emitting from the hallway. With a start Vincent bolted up from his bed, snatching the bath robe from his closet door and shuffling down the hall, armed with a lamp.

He pushed open his laboratory door, certain that was where the loud electronic hiss was coming from. Vincent cautiously made his way into the room, unsure if it was just a piece of equipment acting up or if someone had been trying to figure out how to use them after breaking into the house.

There was light on only one of the several monitors in the room, the one Vincent had been working on.

He blinked and lowered the lamp, placing it on the desk beside the door and walking over to face the screen. Nothing but static snow.

However, just the static snow was enough to make Vincent want to stay in the lab for the rest of the night. That was the most he'd gotten out of the machine since... the incident.

Vincent tapped the screen after the hissing faded into silence, the screen still displaying the snow. How was he going to fix this?

The scientist leaned over the monitor to take a look at the wires connected to it, wondering if maybe he hadn't plugged them in correctly. No, he had, he'd already checked a few days before.

Vincent sank back into his seat and began to ponder what to do with this new information about the program. After he'd gotten the larger hard dive to run it, it finally displayed an image. Even if it was just static.

Another hard drive, perhaps?

As Vincent continued to wonder, something unusual caught his eye. He looked up at the screen only to be greeted by an image appearing in the static.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in surprise, overwhelmed with joy by the image slowly materializing and replacing the static.

"Oh... oh my god," he wheeled the chair closer to the desk the monitor sat on, "does it work?"

The image finally loaded, displaying as the design Vincent had made months ago, one he'd forgotten for some time.

He looked to be young, light gray skin and curly brown hair, dressed in a bright pink sweater. Vincent's favourite feature were the black orbs where his eyes should be, pupils replaced with pink hearts. The boy wore a friendly smile, just as he was designed to.

"Hello, how mah I be of service to you?"

Vincent couldn't belive it. It was talking to him. It was working.

"I-I," Vincent wasn't exactly sure what to say. He was so excited he'd forgotten how he would respond. "I... what's your name?"

The image on the screen flickered once and the boy let out a soft giggle, his voice filter sounding soft and sweet, a voice someone in anguish may want to hear.

"My name is 02, why do you ask?"

Vincent hesitated before responding, "no. Your name isn't 02."

The boy on the screen furrowed his pixelated brow, "what do you mean by that?"

"Your name is... is..."

Come on, Vincent. Think.

"Your name is Jeremy, not 02."

Jeremy's eyes widened in surprise, "only my programmer should know of that information!" His mouth fell open and his image glitched for a quick moment, "you must be Vincent. I'm terribly sorry for what happened with-"

"Alright!" Vincent interrupted, not wanting to be reminded of the incident that cost him something he'd never get back.

"I'm sorry, I'm detecting levels of stress. I suggest that you-"

"I'm fine," Vincent interrupted once more. He was amazed by how well the program was processing... it was overwhelming to say the least. He'd finally made a working AI.

"Jeremy," he stood from his chair, "we have a lot of work to do."

Mike had come accustomed to his bizarre subconscious over the endless nights and days that passed since the accident. The sound of his skull getting crushed by the jaws of that stupid fox still rang in his ears, but the pain had long subsided. All he had were memories of it.

And those memories became nightmares.

Mike had the same dream more times than he could count. He would materialize in the pizzeria, standing off to the side while he monitored the children during his occasional day shift. A young girl rushed out of Kid's Cove, face puffy red and wet with tears when Mike stopped her.

She didn't say anything, only pointing over to the doors leading into the small, dimly lit room where the children would play with one of the animatronic animals that wandered around the pizzeria. Mike took the girls small hand in his own and lead her to a young woman, worried out of her mind and looking for her child.

After Mike returned the young girl, he weaved through the sea of many small, happily screaming children toward Kid's Cove. By the time he'd made it to the doorway, he narrowed his eyes in confusion. The lights were off; the room was completely empty. Curious, Mike stepped inside and took a look around, not hearing his co-workers warning before large metal teeth were met with the top of his head.

Then everything shattered apart and Mike was once again in endless darkness; between conscious and unconsciousness. It was an odd state... after his recurring nightmare he was met with what he could only describe as an endless, starless space stretching out before him.

He couldn't see anything, really. Even when he though he looked down he did not meet his feet; only pitch black. Mike could only hear during this state. Ambient voices sounded around him, sounding so close and so real he felt as though he could reach out and touch someone in front of him, however at the same time the voices sounded very, very far away. Like they were standing at opposite ends of a canyon and their speech was only echoing back to him.

There was one voice in particular that Mike had... grown attached to. Deep, but soft, comforting but strong. It was easy for him to tell it belonged to a man, but it was hard to tell if the was young or middle-aged. He rambled on about the same thing every time Mike slipped out of his nightmares, about a project that he though could save thousands. Something that thought like a human but worked like a machine. Bits and pieces of his speech were however lost, including any time the man had told Mike his name.

Today he heard the voice again.

I promise, you won't be so lonely after you wake up, Michael.

He didn't even know this man's name and he'd promised him something.

It was true Mike was alone... he had no next of kin. No cousins. Aunts, Uncles... parents, grandparents... nothing. Maybe he did at one point. He didn't know anything about his family other than the fact that they'd given him up for who knows what reason. He'd spent 18 years of his life in foster care, he didn't have a family. No one had been there for him for now 26 years but now someone, someone he didn't know the name or the face of, promised him he wouldn't be lonely.

But did he really want that?

***

The next day was the same thing. Pizzeria, crying girl, worried mother... the crunching of his skull between animatronic jaws, his own screams in terror before everything shattered apart again. Then the darkness, the ambient voices, the man that had promised him he wouldn't be lonely.

That same sweet, comforting, deep voice that greeted him every day.

Michael

The voice echoed through his skull.

Michael, wake up... it's here, it's finally here...

Michael please...

"I can't..."

Michael...

Then everything shattered again. But this time, he was met with bright lights and a scruffy face.

He blinked and groaned, the bright white blaring in his eyes, the only real light he'd seen in months. The first real, physical thing he'd be able to touch with his own two hands.

The face above him smiled down, the look in his blank, monochronatic eyes overjoyed. His skin was darker complexion, like he could be Asian, or Indian. Not dark enough to be African-American, not light enough to be Caucasian or Latino. Not Hispanic, definitely.

He had shaggy purple hair, pulled back into a ponytail that sat on his shoulder while he leaned down to look at Mike. He had a strong jaw line, a scruffy chin, and a thin nose. However none of these were his most distributing features, not even his more than likely dyed purple hair.

They were his eyes.

They were strange, blank and milky like he was blind... but how could he be blind? He was wearing lab coat--he couldn't be qualified to be a doctor, scientist, whatever if he was blind. He could see perfectly fine from what Mike could tell.

We're they real?

"Michael!" The man exclaimed happily, "you're finally awake!"

"What..?" Mike groaned and shielded his eyes from the lights. "What do you mean awake?"

The man pursed his lips and pulled away with his arms crossed. "Well... you've been in a coma for three months now-"

"Three months?" Mike's mouth fell open in shock and he uncovered his eyes too look at the strange man. His voice is so familiar...

"Yes, three months." He responded, "I'm Vincent. I'm the one that's been taking care of you--well... with the exception of one of our best nurses, Elizabeth."

Vincent... the name was so familiar. Too familiar. He'd heard it before. He'd heard that voice before.

Mike gasped, "you're him! You're the voice!"

Vincent blinked, "the voice... oh! Yes-" he laughed, "I guess I am. How are you feeling, Michael-"

"Where's your project? Did you finish it?"

"Michael-"

"I need to know."

Vincent sighed but smiled, turning to the counter behind him and opening a silver laptop. "If you really want to... fine. He can help me examine you."

"He?"

Vincent didn't respond, punching the password into laptop and waiting for it to come on. Mike watched with curiosity, leaning forward and trying to get a better view from over Vincent's broad shoulders. An image appeared on the screen, but it was hard to make out with Mike's blurred vision.

"My name is Jeremy and I'll be your health care assistant! Hello, Vincent!" A young, electronic - sounding voice greeted. Mike narrowed his eyes and Vincent turned with the laptop in his arms, faced toward Mike.

The image displayed on the screen was a young boy, short light brown hair, black eyes with pink hearts for pupils, a bright pink sweater, looking friendly and innocent. "Hello, I'm Jeremy!"

"I'm... Mike. Mike Schmidt."

The boy smiled, "hello Mike! I'll be your health care assistant today!"

            "Elizabeth!" Vincent called for whom Mike could only presume to be a nurse, turning to him briefly to assure him he'd be back in but a moment before he swung open the curtain separating the small room from the hallway, stepping out and weaving through the small crowed of bodies rushing between different rooms.

This must be a busy Hospital. How depressing.

Vincent had set the small monitor on the counter across from Mike's bed before he left, leaving him with the company of Jeremy. Mike had to admit, he wasn't eager to speak with the AI. After the incident that landed him a hospital bed for three months, it just seemed normal for Mike to be skeptical of machines.

Especially one that could speak and think like a human being.

Sighing, the patient leaned back into the plastic-cased pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Oh, how fortuitous. Stuck in a hospital bed, half his brain is missing, robots are his enemy, and literally no one was worried about him during his absence. What a great day to be Michael Schmidt.

"Mike?" A soft, electronic voice asked.

Mike sighed and turned his head toward the monitor, scowling. "What?"

"Uh- are you feeling okay? I'm picking up high levels of stress, and-"

"I'm fine," Mike interrupted with a heavy sigh, "don't talk to me, okay?" Turning his head away, Mike stared up at the white-paneled ceiling with boredom in his navy blue eyes.

"Mike, I can understand your... trust issues, but believe me I can help you-"

"Oh, can you now?" Mike rolled his eyes, "you're a computer. Not a human being, last I checked. You're just a placeholder here to help Vincent organize his files, you're secretary."

Jeremy's image flickered red for a moment, letting out an electronic sigh. "I'm not a secretary, I'm a doctor. Vincent programmed me with only the highest intelligence in the medical field, including all the information on you."

"Oh, really now?" He asked, unamused. "You're a smart secretary."

"Why must you be so difficult?" Jeremy asked in annoyance, "Vincent could have just let you die like the other doctors wanted, instead of working on his so-called 'smart secretary,' you should at least be thankful you even woke up at all."

Mike snapped his mouth shut, slowly tuning over on the mattress to look at Jeremy with narrowed eyes.

"What did you just say?" He asked, his tone a bit shaky.

Jeremy smirked, seeming almost sadistic. "None of the doctors wanted to treat you, they all gave up hope the second they saw you. Vincent was the only one that wanted to help you," he glared, "yet you seem so ungrateful for it."

Had no one really worried for Mike? No one at all? Was Vincent really the only doctor that had any hope that he could receive treatment? He set aside something he'd been working on for god knows how long just to take care of him?

Damn, Mike really is an asshole.

He was about to respond when Vincent swung the curtain open, leading a young woman in with him.

"Here he is, Elizabeth." His gaze went from the lightly tanned nurse, eyes bright and blue and hair pulled back into a cute little ponytail, looking much nicer as opposed to Vincent's messy purple hair pulled back by a red hair tie.

Elizabeth smiled warmly, laughing awkwardly and taking a few steps toward the  bed.

"Hello, Michael!" She said cheerfully, "glad to see you're finally awake!"

Mike smiled lightly, he wasn't really the type of guy to smile very often, but he figured he'd be polite.

"Ah.. I guess I'm glad, too."

She frowned, which confused Mike. She turned and whispered something to Vincent, the other nodding and clearing his throat.

"Michael, how are you feeling?"

"It's... it's just Mike, and I'm fine."

"He's lying," Jeremy blurted, Mike shooting the monitor a glare.

Vincent raised an eyebrow, turning toward Jeremy.

"Oh, really now?" He asked, seeming to glance at Mike, but he couldn't really tell due to his blank eyes.

"Yes," Jeremy responded, "he's obviously stressed, and I believe I am detecting levels of anxiety and-"

"Oh, be quiet," Mike spat, turning over in his bed.

Vincent frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"Michael--"

"Mike."

"Mike," Vincent heaved a sigh, "you need to relax, okay?"

"Oh, I'm perfectly relaxed." Mike growled, turning to look at Vincent, "perfectly fine. Everything is just fine and dandy in Mikeville."

Vincent smirked, "then I suppose you'd rather stay here tonight rather than going home, or anything."

Mike blinked. Had he heard Vincent correctly? Did he really just offer to take him away from this tiny hospital room?

"What I meant was," Mike began, "I'm feeling dreadful and I wish to be removed from the premises."

Vincent chuckled, "alrighty then. We'll have you out of here by ten o'clock tonight.


---

Sorry for short chapter ;;