[Apparently I can't link things in the title, so have this instead]

CW: death, survivor’s guilt

My darling Misha,

Not a day goes by that I do not think of you, but it is not a sad remembrance; I am grateful for everything that we built together. My younger, more cynical self might have said that, after a couple of centuries, my processing core simply lost the capacity for sadness. But I choose to believe that this acceptance is genuine. I am surrounded by family, by people who care for me, and people you cared for as well. Goodboy came home a few weeks ago; I can’t describe to you how happy it made me to see that old dog again.

I still wear the nightgown you gave me at all times. It may not be imbued with the power of love Jane granted it any more, but it is the truest token of your love to me all the same. It expended its power in a most noble fashion, protecting my chassis in the explosion that took your life. You don’t know how many years I spent blaming myself for asking you to give me your apron to put in the wash. All the same, I did give it to Biccy after your passing, and she made the best use of it I could have asked for.

She is so strong, Misha, I wish that you could see her now. She has your kindness, your dedication, and your incredible love of making things. She made a whole new home for herself - built it from scratch - and not just for herself, Misha, for all the bots I couldn’t help. I didn’t have it in me to rebuild the orphanage after what happened. NDRI all but crumbled and I would have done so alongside it, but Biccy gave me a place to stay; she built a beautiful home for all the appliances, and all the other bots in need of a home, and Rusty has stood by her throughout all these centuries. I am so proud of her, Misha, and I know that you would be too.

I am an old bot, with little processing power left in me, but I have lived a full life and for that I am ever grateful. I hope that, when I am gone, if Biccy ever finds the letters I have written you, she will know that she was loved more than I could ever find the means to express.

Yours forever, Silvio

The retreat’s private rooms are full of boxes, torn open and closed, there are scraps everywhere, the hardwood floors are a thing of the distant past. Even Alphapod seems to raise their exasperated reacts at you when they show up at your door to deliver yet another stash of unused junk. You simply say you need it to upkeep the robots at the retreat.

Not to cause too much commotion of course, since this has a real chance of not working at all… and you don’t want to let your friends down if it doesn’t.

You look through the latest shipment of high-end vision implements – you need something that matches the vibe of everything else you’ve picked out; 360 vision units would make no sense if their head wouldn’t be able to rotate at those angles anyway.

Rusty encourages you not to think too hard about it, however they come out, they’ve already promised to love it with all their heartdrive, and no bot will come out perfect. But they also understand your tendency to stress out about these things…

Eventually, you find the perfect set.

You had wanted it to have some boxy features, like you, but also have Rusty’s vintage aesthetic, it also needs to be at least a touch fun and full of love. So, you settle on an old human music box you found in the house itself eons ago, and began your upgrading from there. You switched out the twirling human on the inside for a small automaton holding a heart, so they will always remember they’re loved. You polish the mirror on the inside and find a shiny new wind up key for the back.

Now… for the music. You modify its voice box so that different audio files can be installed and played, but you preload a few that you and Rusty find suitable and cute for them to have, expressing a few core emotions.

Finally, a set of squat, adjustable yet ornamental legs, taken off a vintage bathtub, allowing them some movement as the hinge of the legs bend and swivel.

You take the completed chassis, along with a heart drive to LEECHES at the repair centre, it’s been thousands of years, but they haven’t forgotten you. Together, you proceed with the installation.

Although it has been tested on organic samples, this remains one of the first times such a feat is performed on a bot with such intention, though, if anyone can do it, it’s the famed neurosurgeon themselves. The operating theatre was filled with many other repair bots looking on and taking notes of the pioneering procedure.

After a few gruelling days. It is finally complete.

You do a final reboot to initialize all the software you both have downloaded, Rusty paces outside, eager for the news.

In the dead quiet of dawn, the music box begins to turn on its own, echoing throughout the repair centre, a beautiful song plays.

“ Hi Mom”