Gavin Romana didn't know his father at all. He knew the man by name, knew pictures he'd seen and meetings he'd had when he was young, a child that could barely remember his face. But by all accounts he was a kind, extremely intelligent man that worked hard on the four studies of organic and inorganic engineering. Gavin had never had as much interest in any of the four studies, but he'd dabbled here and there in two of them. Really, he preferred not to hinder himself to one particular study and never gave titles to what he did. But that was one week ago. Now, he was riding silently in a low vehicle that glided upon the earth so silently he could have sworn he was floating. He could hear the sound of his own heart beating, his lungs expanding and contracting in his chest as he took a breath. He didn't dare move though he was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Both his legs had long ago fallen asleep under the weight of his books and the bag containing his papers. His papers. His diagrams. All his own. The woman driving was no more present than he as they traveled down the shaded, single-lane road. No one had come down here in two years. It had taken them just that long to find Gavin after his father's death.

Why did the man leave everything to him? Everything, from house to research, to giant plot of land, to Gavin? His son he never even knew outside a few visits when he was little? The man was said to work in the strangest of ways, and that was no different now. The trees began thinning out, and Gavin turned his gaze upward. A wonderful sight met his gaze, and he had to lean forward, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses as he did so. Four levels, brick and stone, with arched windows and ivy climbing upward. A large, wrapping porch before overgrown gardens and two round fountains that hadn't seen use since the man's death. A giant dome of glass, completely black, that Gavin didn't quite understand. He couldn't see through it, after all. A four-vehicle garage, possibly full of vehicles and parts that his father would dabble in to make his own car, special and different and wonderful. A gorgeous observatory on the south side of the highest floor. He didn't realize he was gaping until he heard a laugh beside him, startling him out of the trance he'd fallen in.

"Your father was a wealthy man. His understanding of the four studies sent him far, very quickly." The woman, Gavin knew her only as Jasmine, smiled lightly. "While he spent most of his time in his office in the city, he did enjoy this peaceful little world he made for himself."

Gavin didn't respond. He shook his head gently as the car came to a steady stop. "Thank you... It took quite a while to get out here..."

"It's very safe. And very dark. Your father enjoyed stargazing and studying the cosmos in his spare time. He was sweet. I'm glad you are too." Jasmine brushed her brown dreadlocks back and grinned at the way Gavin blushed brightly. "Do you need a hand getting the bags?"

"No, no... I got it... Thanks though, Jasmine..." He smiled, though his mouth was dry. The key to the house was heavy in his pocket as he got out and closed the door, then went around to the back and pulled a total of five bags out and onto the slightly overgrown brick driveway. He waved as Jasmine began pulling away, down the drive and back to the road. Gavin sighed, turning to look up and shivering gently in the warm air as he studied the mansion. So big. And now, his.

It had been a very long time since his father had been home. Grey had waited obediently, not moving from his post near the front door of the spacious mansion Bernard had lived in occasionally. He scanned the grounds every few days, making sure no one intruded, but after a few months of not being seen to, his limbs had rusted shut. As the gardens overgrew and hid him from the world, his only company were insects, mice and the occasional bird.

Grey wondered what had become of his creator, the man that had built him and given him life. Grey was a prototype robot, a golem who's sole purpose was guarding the lives and estate of his owner. But Bernard hadn't stopped there. Obsessed with creating human emotions in a robot, like any other Biolobotics fanatic, he had experimented with Grey until he could feel emotions. Grey could feel happy, sad, angry, hurt... And right now he was lonely.

His eyes opened, small lenses that glowed red when scanning the area. His internal clock had died a long time ago. He had no idea how long it had been since he had seen his father, or even how long he had slept for. But he could sense strangers approaching. There was a young male, walking in his father's house. Grey wanted to sound an alarm and protect Bernard's property, but his sound chip was corroded and he could only squeak, which attracted the attention of only mice. He gave up, hoping the intruders wouldn't stay for too long, or... Maybe they would find Grey and help him.

He felt ridiculously alone, here, so separate from so many people. The home was gorgeous, of course, but... empty. He stared up at it, regarding the stony face, rocking back and forth a time or two before finally grasping his first bag and hauling it up the five steps to the front porch. Then Gavin used the key, and pushed the wide double doors open. He was met by a scent that only settled in buildings after they were left alone for a long time. Dust. Stone. Wood. It even smelled lonely. He brought his bag in and set it against the wall, and decided to take a look around. The rooms were tall and quiet, stoically shadowed and dim. Things were dusty. Paintings of men were on the walls. A man that looked like his father, or like his father from pictures he had seen. A man with golden hair. A man with brown hair and glasses like his. Two other men, one with pale hair and one with black. They looked happy. Friends? Colleagues? He wished he knew.

Going through the sitting room, he came to a barroom. There were expensive, barely-touched bottles of liquor on the shelves and just-as-expensive crystal glasses. He moved through to a small, cozy study, and then through to a dining room with a long table. The kitchen attached to it was huge and gourmet, as though his father loved to cook. Perhaps that was where Gavin got his love of cooking. He found a curious room off to the other side, perhaps a meeting room, because the table was round so that everyone could look at everyone else easily. The hall to the side led into the dome, which, when he entered, lit up as the glass grew transparent. A massive, overgrown garden. Gavin gasped, backing away, and the glass became opaque again.

He decided to pull the rest of the bags inside, shaking himself. Just how had his father engineered all this? It was... beautiful. Gorgeous. Amazing. Hopefully there was a library where he could read up on it all. He stepped outside, stretching and staring around. He would have to clean it up. Perhaps then it would be more warn and inviting. Perhaps he could reach out to his father's friends. Learn about what his father did. What he did from time to time. Stepping forward, Gavin paused when he heard a soft beeping to his left. Slowly, he turned. Was there a security measure he didn't know about? He bit his lip, gasping when he saw something buried in the overgrown bush by the porch. He stepped down and around, pulling some ivy away from what looked like a robotic creature. "Ah... Curious. What are you, then, hm?" He ran a hand down the rusted limb closest to him. Was it still active?

A warm touch made Grey almost start in surprise. He hadn't heard the stranger coming closer to him. Maybe the human had heard the small beeping noises that was at one point his alarm. He adjusted the lenses that were his eyes, looking at the stranger with curiousity. He looked like a younger version of his father, maybe an offspring? Bernard had mentioned his children to Grey, and how he wished he could have watched them grow up. But he had had issues with the woman who had once been his wife, and Grey knew that Bernard's honour was compromised at one point.

"GR-45. Directive, guarding the home of Bernard Romana." He was surprised he was able to talk, even if it sounded faint. "Subject appears to be of Romana's bloodline. GR-45 is at your service." He didn't speak like a normal robot. His father had taught him how to talk almost like a human would.

Gavin gasped, backing away slightly, then leaned in to hear the voice that emanated from... some form of voice box hidden away in the chest of the thing. He pushed his glasses up his nose with a knuckle and stepped in, pushing and pulling at weeds and vines. "You are... GR-45? So, you're a robotic guardian..." He smiled. "Perhaps an early model? Unless you're number forty five, a success where others have failed... Perhaps this? Ah..." He stepped around and pulled a particularly tough vine out from around the model's waist and freed it from its earthen prison. "Come, can you stand?"

Curious, he was so curious. Gavin thought he was alone, but now... this being, this robot, a guardian for the home no doubt, was here. Present. He didn't feel quite so alone anymore. "You look... dreadful. How long have you been going into disrepair?" He reached out, in case the guardian... golem of sorts, needed a hand up. It seemed to speak so clearly, unlike a general robotic creation.

"Father called me Grey, it is easier to say," Grey replied. He felt something being moved from around his waist, just above his leg, which were folded neatly inside himself. He shut off his faint alarm, not wanting the beeping to annoy his new owner, his new master. "I am afraid I am not fully operational. Father hasn't been around to fix me, and I have run out of oil." He tried to stand, but his legs would not move from their position. Rust had locked his joints, making it impossible to move.

"I do not know how long it has been... My internal battery has run dry. Along with 2089 listed errors." He started to list them off, his mechanical nature taking control as he told his new owner what was wrong with him. "Current solutions... Oil. Anti-rust polish. Attention. Rewiring... I have been programmed to be able to self repair. Once my legs and arms work again, I can be fully operational in... 2.6 days."

Gavin nodded, lowering his hand and studying the metal that made up the guardian. "I see... A bit more than two days? I think I can repair you before that, actually..." He glanced back, at his bags as they laid on the ground. "Let me see if I can find anything..." He hurried away, down the overgrown walkway and to the door that sat near the garage doors. The key in his hand functioned like a skeleton key, and he unlocked the door to step in. At his presence, light automatically flashed on and he blinked. Dust. Cobwebs. Mouse and rat droppings. Among half-built vehicles and parts, he found crates of oil and polishing rags, bottles of polish itself. Why had his father neglected to use stainless metal? Something that wouldn't seize up after a time? Or rust? He sighed, bringing a crate of the stuff with him.

"I'll take care of the rust, okay?" He picked up an oil canister and felt around the limbs of the robot, Grey as he introduced himself as. Gavin pushed his glasses up again and blew his loose black hair back, starting on the shoulder joints. "I'm Gavin, by the way." He added, helping the robot shift and the rust fall away through the oil application.

Grey groaned with appreciation as his limbs could freely move with a little bit of a squeak. He moved his arms, stretching even though he didn't have muscles. They were retractable, like his legs, and flexible. He could lift heavy objects easily and yet be gentle enough to hold a kitten. When his legs were oiled, he stood for the first time in what felt like years. His metal feet dug a bit into the soft ground, insects fled from him as he adjusted his height to be just a bit taller than Gavin.

"It feels so much better, thank you Master," Grey said, bowing slightly and taking a few steps. He looked back to where he had been sitting, amazed at how much the garden had overgrown. "I am here to serve you, Gavin. If you wish for me to clean this place, I shall." He twitched slightly and folded back up, sitting on the ground as his power supply dimmed. "SHUTTING-DOWN. REBOOT-COMMENCING-IN-ONE-POINT-THREE-SECONDS..." He struggled to re-spark the failing power source, finally whirring back into life. "GR-45, reporting for duty. Sorry, I guess I am in more disrepair than I thought. Father kept lots of spare parts in the garage... Where is he?"

Gavin was glad to see the robot return to its original state of movement. Smiling a little, he backed away a little, startling in the sudden announcement and backing away. The robot, Grey, seemed a bit disfunctional. Perhaps because of his years subjected to weather and wear. He didn't seem to know what happened to Bernard, Gavin's father. "Um... Grey, I... I'm not sure how I can tell you this easily, but..." He sighed, looking down to remove his glasses and rub his light brown eyes. "Father... has been dead for the past two years and five months." He looked down.

Since the news, Gavin hadn't thought about it like that. He hadn't thought the man dead. But now. Now he'd never know Bernard. He could barely consider him a father and now would never have the chance to be able to call him 'Father'. It was sad. And he paused when his breath hitched. Why did he feel this way now? He'd not seen the man in more than a decade. Why were his eyes tearing up?

Grey went quiet, the information being processed in his artificial brain. Most robots didn't understand death. It was what mortals beings, such as humans met after they grew ill or too old to function. When golems and robots grew too old to function, they powered down and were usually recycled. But not Grey. He felt a pain in his chest that he knew was sadness. He had felt this before, when his pet bird flew away and never came back.

He sagged, feeling lubricant leak from his eyes as he wept, thinking about the man that had been his father. Bernard was not a bad man, and had done many amazing things while he was alive. It was a shame Grey never got to say goodbye. He covered his face, sobbing quietly, soft beeps emitting from within him. "He talked about you all the time. Never got to see you like he wanted. But I remember him telling me about his son. He made you gifts every year for your birthday, but he didn't know where you lived... I can take you to where he kept them..."

Grey still felt the pain in his chest. Knowing that his father hadn't left him on purpose helped his grief a little. "How did he die? Was it peaceful?" He focussed on Gavin, noticing the shock and concern on the man's face. Of course, he had probably never seen a robot cry.

Gavin certainly hadn't expected to see a robot cry, but he did. It was surprising, shocking, but there was a marvel to be acknowledged at a metal creature understanding and reacting to losing a loved one. Real emotion, and not some simulation that made noise. It reacted physically, and Grey was actually sad. Actually showing emotion unlike any early robotic simulation could. He brushed the tears from his eyes and placed his glasses on top of his head. "I wasn't there when he died, but I'm aware that he died easily. He fell asleep, and just didn't wake up." That was a comfort at least. The man did care about him, it seemed. He cared about the son he could never see, wished, perhaps, that he could meet him again someday. But that had never happened. Gavin had not been at his deathbed.

"Grey... could you take me to what he did... for me? I think I'd like to see all his hard work." He offered a hand to help the golem guardian out of the overgrown weeds and flowers. "I'll repair your circuits and replace your speakers, then maybe we can bring this place... back to what it was?" In the back of his mind, Gavin had thought about selling the place It was a source of money, but he had money. Now that he heard from a logical source that he wasn't, in fact, abandoned by his father like his mother constantly said, he'd cling to the home and make it beautiful again.

"Affirmative," Grey said, moving with slightly shaky steps into the house. It was dusty inside the building, and he wasn't used to seeing it so abandoned. It made a fresh wave of tears come from him. He walked down the hall and to the door which led to the basement. The stairs were old, a creaked as they walked down them, Grey's eyes lighting up like torches in order to see. He found the light switch and turned it on, revealing the room where all of Gavin's presents were kept.

Letters upon letters were piled neatly on shelves. Toy cars, working miniature robots, gift vouchers and cards littered the room. There was a present for every birthday and holiday that Gavin had been alive for. Some of the parcels and letters had angry red "RETURN TO SENDER" stamps on them. Grey remembered how his father would work for months on the handmade toys and try to send them, only to have them returned. He turned to look at Gavin.

"Your father made them all. Cars, little robots... He even made me for you... But when I was returned to him, he worked on me. So that I could be a companion for him." He blinked tears from his eyes. "Your father loved you very much and tried very hard to keep in contact with you..."

He was reluctant to follow, hearing what he'd heard from his mother for so long. Considering how much he'd been left already, Gavin was sure he'd been lied to. Of course, it wasn't unheard of that an estranged family member would leave something wonderful in their will to make up for something they did while alive. A last-ditch attempt to reach out and make things right, even in death. But he followed Grey silently, watching himself on the old wooden stairs. They bowed under their weight, and creaked gently. He had to reach out for Grey before the lights came flickering on, showing him the main room, a bit dusty and draped with spiderwebs, but otherwise in perfect condition.

So many things. Little trinkets and letters, handmade and handwritten. It was so rare to find handwritten letters and notes now. He stepped forward, feeling weak in the knees. Everything was stamped red. It had all been sent. He should have gotten it all when it was delivered, but here it all sat in stacks, kept dusted and polished and in as perfect condition as it all could be. "M-my... f-father s... sent all this...?" His breathing came out raggedly, making his words shake, tremble out. "S-she said... she... never got any..." He crouched down, running his hands over his face and effectively smearing tears up his face, into his hair, pushing his glasses off his head. "She... lied... I c-could have... known him. And she didn't let me..." He sniffed hard, sitting on the dusty floor. He tried to keep quiet, but at that point all he knew was a series of wordless sobs and painful tears. Why had she kept him from Bernard? Even the day he had died... He hadn't felt anything.

Grey beeped sadly, lowering himself so he could wrap an arm around the sad human. It may not have been a warm, comforting hug, but he hoped it was enough to cheer Gavin up, even just a little. "I was confused by it all too, but now I understand... Your mother kept you away from your father in order to hurt him... He never loved her, but after she became pregnant he had to marry her. He wanted to leave, with you. But she would not let him..."

"At least you know now, Gavin. Father loved you more than anything, even more than me. I'm glad you finally know. Father would be happy to see you got your gifts and letters."

Gavin barely registered Grey near, but he did hear what was said. His mother was a stern, proper, very stony woman, and he could imagine her taking him away from someone to hurt them. Lying to him to make him hate someone. He had been hating the wrong person all his life, and everything in this room proved that to him. It overwhelmed him, but Gavin looked up and brought the collar of his white shirt up to mop his face. "I know..." He sniffed, clearing his throat so he didn't sound quite so choked up. "I think I should... I should visit him..."

He stood, putting a hand under Grey's upper arm to help him stand as well. "Would you mind... I need to... find a distraction." He sighed shakily. "Come on, Grey... Come on, I'll... polish you up. And replace everything that's been ruined..." Gavin took a step back, away from the room. He felt an overwhelming urge to get out, leave the room and, perhaps, go back later. When everything was inside, and Grey was no longer rusty or corroded. After he felt strong enough to actually open one of those letters.

Grey nodded, leading the sad son of his creator up the stairs and back out of the house. All of the stuff needed to repair Grey was kept in the garage, where the man had found the oil obviously. As he walked, he started to feel dizzy and disorientated. His internal engine was off kilter and he fell over onto his side with a loud bang. He beeped slightly, struggling to stand back to his feet.

"Sorry Master... I lost my balance..." He flipped onto his feet, standing back up and using his arms for balance as they entered the garage. The lights worked still, even after many years of neglect. Grey couldn't believe that his father was dead. It made him sad to think Bernard died alone. He would have wanted to be by his father's side as he died.

Gavin pushed the overwhelming sadness away with the same bitter ambition he had when his mother would say that he's not going to see his father this year. He wasn't getting a letter from Daddy this year, or even an acknowledgement that he, Bernard's son, even existed. But every year he had. His mother just hadn't shown him the packages, the letters, the acknowledgements. He gasped when Grey fell over, obviously off kilter, and helped him stand, walking backward with glances cast over his shoulder.

"Don't call me 'Master'." Gavin said sternly as they entered the garage and pushing him to sit on a few sturdy crates. "Just call me Gavin. I don't like that whole 'master' term." He turned away from the robotic golem and cleaned his glasses, which had smeared lenses from just a bit ago. "I'll take care of your engine, rebalance it, and then replace your speakers. Then I'll check your joints, your lenses in case they need replacement, and then I'll polish you up to get rid of the rust. Okay?" He checked the cabinets for everything that was necessary, smashing spiders where he saw them emerge, and looked back at Grey.

"You are very smart, just like father." Grey went quiet, silently watching Gavin gather all the required equipment. Grey hadn't met many other people before. Bernard had few friends, and he rarely hosted parties. Grey knew there had to be smart men in the world. His father had talked about them, some that were his good friends. Bernard's brother had been just as interested in Biolobotics as he was, and the two studied together. The brother went on to become a professor of some type, though Grey was sure the man was no longer alive.

"Do you make robots?" he wanted to get to know Gavin. The man that would be his caretaker, the man that he would be protecting.

Gavin smiled to himself and kept his back turned when Grey spoke to hide the blush. Smart, just like Father. So at least he inherited his father's intelligence. If only he had gotten anything else from him; his hair and eyes were his mother's, and his skin was rather dark, but he wasn't sure where that came from. He turned to face Grey with the toolbox he had uncovered and the box of equipment he'd need, and stood in front of him.

"My mother always told me it was foolish, but yes." He said as he worked, unscrewing the panel that hid Grey's inner workings. "I wouldn't have much since she deliberately kept equipment and materials away from me. I'd find some, or have some given to me, and make little... trinkets. It always fascinated me... And I dabbled a bit in biolobotics..." He sighed, leaning in and spying the steam compressor in the engine. It wasn't running right---the piston wasn't oiled right, and was stalling. The internal clock was several hours off and the second hand was stalling. No doubt due to liquid exposure, humidity. He sighed and started unscrewing it.

Grey could feel Gavin inside of him and it hurt, but he didn't say anything. He didn't want to put the man off fixing him. Robots aren't supposed to feel anything. Bernard had made Grey special, different to the others. He had achieved the unthinkable, the very thing many professors in biolobotics wanted: a robot that had feelings like a human. Not simulated, but actual emotions. Grey felt happy, he felt sad, he felt pain and anger... And Grey felt blessed that his father had done it to him.

"Father and Uncle were very good at biolobotics..." Grey said, hoping his faint voice didn't sound pained. Suddenly, he short circuited and blacked out, going limp on the ground.

Gavin was quiet, focusing so hard he didn't quite hear what Grey said despite being so close to him. He oiled the piston and started on the clock, managing to unscrew it before Grey fell. He gasped and caught the robot before he collapsed to the hard ground, pulling him to lean against one of the nearly-finished vehicles. "Okay, calm down now... Just stay asleep." He wasn't sure why he was talking where Grey couldn't hear, but it reassured him. "Gonna replace these frayed circuits and wires..." He brought out a wire cutter and started snipping, digging the right ones out of cans and boxes where they were stored. His father didn't seem to be too organized when it came to parts and equipment, but that was just like Gavin. He could find everything with ease, while everyone else saw just a pile of nonsense.

Snapping the circuits and soldering the wires to one another, Gavin stood and replaced the clock he'd taken out with a new one he wound. Then he found a new speaker box in the last cupboard, dusted it off, and sat straddling Grey's legs as he unclasped the old one, replacing it with the new. "Okay, so far so good. Grey, are you okay now?" He patted the rusted, domed chest in front of him, hearing a pleasant hissing and buzzing within.

Grey powered back on, feeling a lot better. His insides still ached, but he could feel that a lot had been replaced. He felt almost like a new robot. He would have smiled if he had lips. Instead he beeped happily. "Feeling a lot better..." he replied, surprised at how loud and clear his voice sounded. He stood and danced a little from side to side. "My voice! I can hear my voice!"

He hugged Gavin tightly, but not enough to crush bones. Humans were fragile. Grey had once accidentally broken his father's ribs when he hugged the man too tightly. "Gavin is so clever and smart."

Gavin stood to let Grey move on his own, smiling at how easily he shifted, and how well he sounded when he spoke. Then he gasped, the air forced out of his lungs when he was swept into a hug that wasn't quite enough to break him. "Oooof... Oh, I'm glad you're happy, Grey. It's the least I could do for you. Well..." He ran a hand over the rust and dusted his fingers on his pants. "I could polish you up... I think I saw some metal polisher here..." He bent down, rubbing his chest before finding what he was looking for. A heavy-duty polisher, which would easily cut through rust, but would need to be rubbed in to put a protective coat on. "Come on outside, Grey, and we'll take care of it in the sun." He grabbed the whole crate, nodding to the door that they'd left open.

Grey followed, sitting patiently as Gavin ran the polisher over him. It hurt in some parts, but mostly it tickled and Grey giggled. Once the deed was done, his silver metal shone like he was new. He stood and admired Gavin's handy work. "Very good Gavin... I like it a lot... I feel like... I was just made." He would have smiled if he could, but instead he made several clicks and whistles, his head spinning.

He was so shiny, he could see reflections of the light dance over the lawn. He was keen to get into helping Gavin clean up the house and help him settle in. He wondered if Gavin would be staying in the house and if he'd like Grey come inside.

Gavin focused hard on his work, shining up Grey's metal and making sure he didn't hurt the robot, who seemed to definitely feel pain. That was so odd. Curious. How a robot could feel emotion. Pain. Real, human, physical pain that only living beings could feel. But Grey, a robot, a golem, knew pain. So many kinds of pain. "I'm glad I could help you feel better, Grey." He said with a grin. "And... would you mind helping me? I need to get a good feel of... my... new home... And I just need all my stuff inside... I kind of... got a lot."

At the thought, he looked at the pile of bags. One was inside already. But he wanted to see how everything was. All the rooms. Where his father worked. He wanted to read all his letters, and see all the little trinkets he was never exposed to as a child.