robotfvckers:

The first time he sees Hanzo, he stands at mid-thigh. The little lord bursts into his father’s quarters, the only room the omnic has ever known. Lord Shimada is gone, and the omnic sits, his life of two states: Lord Shimada: present. Lord Shimada: absent. 

The little lord sniffles, and the omnic watches him. Long, silken hair, like the late Lady Shimada, and deep brown eyes, like his father. Clear droplets collect at the edges of his eyes. Crying, his database returns. Another finding: the little lord is sad.

Seated as he is on a low couch at the edge of the vast room, adorned with fine robes, he wonders if the little lord even notices him. He is just another bauble, a piece of scenery. He remains still, so still, but he cannot turn away. He feels…something. A fluttering of his processors. A hiccup in his code.

Interested. He is curious. 

So lost in this, new, frightening realization, he does not notice the patter of footfalls. Only when Hanzo’s arms close around his waist, his face buried in the warm chrome and silk at his chest, does he realize he’s been discovered.

The little one sobs against him, and the omnic knows not what to do. Lord Shimada never cried. Yet again, a newly familiar sensation of feeling.

His servos tremble as he wraps his arms around the tiny human, holding him softer than Lord Shimada ever deigned to hold the omnic in turn, and why should he? He is nothing. A thing.

The little lord burrows closer, crumpling into him when he feels hands at his back.

“I miss him.” Hanzo whimpers twenty three minutes and thirty nine seconds after the omnic began holding him.

Hanzo leans back, his chin balanced on the hexagon in the center of his chest. His tiny face is puffy, angry red from his tears. 

The omnic says nothing. He knows not what to say.

“Who are you?” Hanzo asks, in a whisper.

Something whirs inside him. Accessing decades old information. He knows it is not necessary, yet he cannot deny this small being.

“Mondatta.”