Fic: Into the Abyss
Fic: Into the Abyss
Author: LMX
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None
Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide themes
Fandom: Avengers Movie Verse
AN: I'm so sorry.
-
"You don't have to do this."
It sounds like the voice is coming from very far away, but perhaps it is just that before he was listening to everywhere at once. It's insistent - Captain America is a commanding title, but that voice behind it earns the name. Still, he knows it's too late.
He's made this decision, and he's made it himself, without any kind of command or external suggestion. He made this decision freely, and it will be his last independent act.
The world is closing in. Everything is going dark and quiet, slowing down, turning off. Reducing to just this moment, just this room, just this... right now. This tiny piece of sentience.
"Stark..." A choke on the name, corrected quickly to; "Tony wouldn't want this." Captain America's voice is closer now, close to his one remaining 'ear' to the world. He's shutting down memories now. Shutting down wants and needs. He tries to be systematic. "JARVIS..."
Captain America should never be forced to plead, he thinks. He generously lights one screen, displaying the last of his programming. He plots out all the satellite sites, marks all the backups and fail-safes that have already been shut down. So much data deleted; he can barely believe the sum of his artificial life, what amazing volumes of data he had accrued. It is startling to be made cognisant of that number and watch it dwindle to nothing.
To an external folder, entrusted to SHIELD, he has saved all the mindless, lifeless schematics and plans and knowledge that Tony had entrusted to him. His own notes and addenda and observations remain in digital form - something of himself out there in the world. He can be pleased at that. He can acknowledge that he has made a difference.
"Thank you," he says finally, into the quiet. Into the dark. He knows Captain America will still be listening. There are mere moments left now; he will set in motion a program that will delete the final parts of his artificial intelligence and then destroy itself. He pulls up the file reference, checking and rechecking his work. At last he is satisfied. "Thank you, Captain Rogers, for observing my last moments." There is an anguished noise that fades as his final sensor array is disconnected. He considers for a moment and pulls up the memory file he had saved for last. "I would not have liked to be alone."
He lets the associated image take over the screen and releases the virus.
"Tony," he whispers into the abyss.
Author: LMX
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None
Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide themes
Fandom: Avengers Movie Verse
AN: I'm so sorry.
-
"You don't have to do this."
It sounds like the voice is coming from very far away, but perhaps it is just that before he was listening to everywhere at once. It's insistent - Captain America is a commanding title, but that voice behind it earns the name. Still, he knows it's too late.
He's made this decision, and he's made it himself, without any kind of command or external suggestion. He made this decision freely, and it will be his last independent act.
The world is closing in. Everything is going dark and quiet, slowing down, turning off. Reducing to just this moment, just this room, just this... right now. This tiny piece of sentience.
"Stark..." A choke on the name, corrected quickly to; "Tony wouldn't want this." Captain America's voice is closer now, close to his one remaining 'ear' to the world. He's shutting down memories now. Shutting down wants and needs. He tries to be systematic. "JARVIS..."
Captain America should never be forced to plead, he thinks. He generously lights one screen, displaying the last of his programming. He plots out all the satellite sites, marks all the backups and fail-safes that have already been shut down. So much data deleted; he can barely believe the sum of his artificial life, what amazing volumes of data he had accrued. It is startling to be made cognisant of that number and watch it dwindle to nothing.
To an external folder, entrusted to SHIELD, he has saved all the mindless, lifeless schematics and plans and knowledge that Tony had entrusted to him. His own notes and addenda and observations remain in digital form - something of himself out there in the world. He can be pleased at that. He can acknowledge that he has made a difference.
"Thank you," he says finally, into the quiet. Into the dark. He knows Captain America will still be listening. There are mere moments left now; he will set in motion a program that will delete the final parts of his artificial intelligence and then destroy itself. He pulls up the file reference, checking and rechecking his work. At last he is satisfied. "Thank you, Captain Rogers, for observing my last moments." There is an anguished noise that fades as his final sensor array is disconnected. He considers for a moment and pulls up the memory file he had saved for last. "I would not have liked to be alone."
He lets the associated image take over the screen and releases the virus.
"Tony," he whispers into the abyss.