A Heart in the Machine (Serial Designation V x Reader)

A week passed quietly in the Elliott household, with the days settling into a regular rhythm. The tension remained as always, woven into the silence of the halls and the sharp words exchanged between the family and their drones. You kept to your work, finding moments here and there to assist Tessa or quietly make things a bit easier for V. She was mostly her usual self, all quick quips and dry remarks. But today, the calm was interrupted.

A sudden, metallic crash from down the corridor snapped you out of your work. Setting your tools aside, you hurried to find V sitting on the floor, pressing her hand over her faceplate. Scattered around her were a dozen cleaning supplies, their contents spilled out haphazardly.

"V?" you asked, approaching carefully. She glanced up, lowering her hand to reveal a jagged crack in her left optic sensor, the flicker of static hinting at the damage.

"Oh, don't mind me," she said, feigning a relaxed tone as she tried to blink away the erratic flashes. "Just making a bit of... abstract art."

The joke didn't hide the visible glitch in her sensor, which was now straining to focus on anything clearly.

"Right," you said, extending a hand to help her up. "Come with me to the workshop. We'll get you patched up."

She accepted your hand, hesitating only for a moment before standing up and following you down the hall. She was unusually quiet, her pace slowed as she tried to steady her focus with her remaining sensor.

Once inside the workshop, you directed her to sit on a stool and gathered your tools, laying them out carefully. V kept one sensor fixed on you, her posture rigid, her mouth opening as if to make a comment, but she stayed silent, watching as you prepared.

"Alright," you said, pulling up a chair to get to her eye level. "Let's take a look."

Her broken optic flickered as you leaned in, carefully unscrewing the protective casing around it. V's posture stiffened further, her gaze shifting just slightly as you worked with gentle precision. She seemed focused, almost too focused, as if each movement was a mystery she was trying to solve.

You adjusted a tiny dial within the sensor, fingers moving close to her face as you checked each part for damage. Her working optic sensor was so close to yours that you could see it flickering slightly, as if processing something other than her visual feed.

"Almost there," you said, adjusting the fine wiring near the center of the optic. "Does this feel alright?"

"Fine," she replied, voice catching slightly before she cleared her throat. "Just... get it over with already."

Despite the casual tone, there was an uncharacteristic tension in her voice. The hum of the machinery around you seemed louder, amplifying the silence between the two of you as you made the final adjustments.

With a small click, the optic sensor powered back on fully. You pulled back to give her room to adjust, watching as she blinked both sensors open, each one working smoothly as she scanned the room. V's gaze settled back on you, her usual self-confidence now mixed with something she seemed intent on hiding.

"Thanks," she said, voice quieter than usual. She quickly forced a smirk. "Not bad for a human."

You chuckled, packing up your tools. "Anytime. Just try not to give the cleaning supplies a personal tour of the floor next time."

She rolled her eyes, but there was a fleeting softness to her expression.

V lingered on the stool after you'd finished her repairs, shifting awkwardly as she examined the parts scattered on the workshop table. She looked like she was about to leave, but instead, her gaze flitted back to you, her posture a little tense.