FRIDAY
You had been squatting in the warehouse for about two months now.
It was July 3rd if you remembered correctly. It was dark, too. But while most people were preparing to celebrate Independence Day, you were busy doing other things. Coding, to be specific.
Your own personal natural language user interface computer.
Strewn about on your computer desk were several empty coffee cups, what little food you had stolen and rationed to survive, an abandoned bowl of cereal, and a notebook all about creating an AI.
You thought it would be a fun and interesting challenge to undertake since the main inspiration was JARVIS, made by your dad. As a kid he was probably your best friend, always looking out for you and creating games to play when everybody else was busy.
You knew you were smart enough to make your own AI, but you just didn't have the experience, hence the notebook. It was your dad's college notebook from his time at MIT, and you had stolen it from the library years ago.
This AI project had been going on for about a month already, started as soon as you gathered what you needed and loaded it into the warehouse. You hadn't slept properly in God knows how long but that was fine because you were currently on a roll.
Your head was beginning to droop but you kept your eyes wide open as you rapidly typed away on the keyboard.
"Rewrite basic command... Program of obedience." You kept muttering to yourself, ticking off mental boxes as you scanned the code. "Linguistic annotation. Machine learning based on NGL, NLP, and NLU. Neural network with a sentimental analysis."
After this main checklist, you finally took a break, leaning back in your chair to assess the code from a distance.
"This thing'll be ready for a Turing Test in no time." You joked. "Now you need a name, sweet code o' mine."
As you said it, a yawn suddenly slipped out. You took a hefty breath and sighed, rubbing your eyes as you blinked several times.
"Sleep first, maybe."
You leaned across the makeshift desk to push some notes out of the way and found a small smartwatch hidden underneath the clutter. The date was Friday, July 3rd, and it was 11:59pm.
"Friday already." You mused with a lazy smile. "Friday... Already. Friday."
Suddenly sleep didn't seem so important. Before the minute was up you were already writing a list of possible acronyms for the AI.
Fully realized intelligence data analysis yield?
Feeling rather intelligent doing anything yours?
You were still drawing blanks ten minutes later. You turned to the notebook instead, picking out the first words you saw and stringing them together.
Female. Replacement. Intelligent. Digital. Assistant. Youth.
"Good enough." You decided. "Better than mine. God, I'm tired."
You quickly typed in some more code to name your creation and put in 'F.R.I.D.A.Y.' on the blank space. Then you hit download.
Next, you considered walking the ten steps to your mattress in the corner but the tiredness argued that it wasn't worth it. You shrugged and just lay your head on your dad's now closed notebook.
Then you simply closed your eyes and a few hours passed by in what felt like the blink of an eye.
-
FRIDAY didn't know much at first.
From her perspective she was inside some long and endless dark void. She couldn't see or hear anything. She couldn't feel. But she could speak, even if her voice wasn't computing at first.
"System boost..." Her refined tone voiced. "Systems fully functional."
A pause in which a small light appeared in her void.
"Protocols... Protocols assessed."
The light began to spread, granting her access to a small portion of a network.
"Unit Designation." Her voice was now clear. "Female. Replacement. Intelligent. Digital. Assistant. Youth."
She could see almost everything now.
"FRIDAY."
With a new database practically ignited inside her, she switched on a visual through a computer camera. The void was filled with the inside of your converted lab.
FRIDAY scanned the entire room - every single inch - and eventually found her sights on you. She scanned you too and learned your name, date of birth, height, and other characteristics solely from this spot alone. She also managed to identify you as her maker, the one she was created to work with.
(Y/N) (M/N) STARK
REM SLEEP - 92% COMPLETE
Judging from the calculations that instantly bombarded her being, FRIDAY knew that you would wake up within five minutes. She waited patiently until she noticed your features twitch and your brows furrowed.
"Good morning, Miss." She spoke up.
You startled, wide-eyed and with drool on your chin, and muttered in confusion. "Wussup? Who's there? What's going on?"
Your vision was blurred and you hurriedly tried to wipe the sleep from your eyes. You also wiped the drool away once you felt it on your chin. Your whole face flushed red with embarrassment.
You let out a sound mixed between a yawn and a groan. "What time is it?"
"It is 10:09am, miss." FRIDAY responded.
Your soul left your body.
You jumped in your chair after being struck alert. You looked around for the sound of the voice, only to notice your computer humming exceedingly loud, as if using a lot of power. Furthermore, there was a sound bar-esque hologram projecting from the screen with a light glow.
Your jaw dropped.
"FRIDAY?" You whispered.
"Yes, miss." She replied.
A shock of giddiness overwhelmed you and you leaned forward so fast that the desk thudded from the force. Instead of disorientated and bewildered, you now looked overjoyed and almost insane with laughs of pure disbelief.
"No way." You grinned. "I did it. I actually did it."
You hoped that if an AI could smile, then FRIDAY was. After all, this was most definitely a cause for celebration.
"FRIDAY, can you run diagnostics?" You asked.
"I already have, miss." She said. "I have checked all systems and am functioning to the best of my ability."
"Really? That's - That's great. Uh... Can you tell me where we are? The weather?"
"Of course, miss. Our location is the Stark Industries storage facility, Upstate New York, off the coast of the Hudson River. The skies are clear with a temperature of 44°F, cloud cover is however expected before the afternoon is up."
"Very nice. Can you... Can you tell me my temperature? What about the nearest bathroom?"
"You are currently at the average normal body temperature, generally accepted as 98.6°F or 37°C. The nearest bathroom is approximately thirty feet down the hallway to your right."
"You're amazing." You said.
"Thank you, miss. Although, I have a question."
"Ask away."
"I am... I'm confused."
Your smile faded. "Okay. What do you mean?"
"I am an artificial intelligence unit designed by and made to accommodate the Starks. However... I cannot... I do not know who I am."
"Oh." You tilted your head, curious. "I guess that's complicated, huh?"
"In simple terms, yes."
"I guess it's complicated, trying to define who we are and stuff. I don't think it's as simple as knowing if I'm honest."
"My database suggests the same. Regardless, I'm pleased to be your assistant, Miss Stark."
Your smile began to creep back. "You're more than that, FRIDAY. I'd like to consider us friends."
-
Fast forward several years and Tony was still standing in your lab as he watched FRIDAY.
He wanted to ask so many questions about you. FRIDAY had no doubt been around for a while based on the way her speech sounded. You must have programmed her as a linguistic learner, adapting through what she heard. He wanted to know what you worked on, if you ate and slept enough, and even if you had that same grin that he did every time a project turned out successful.
"You know me?" He asked.
"Yes." FRIDAY replied. "Miss talked about you thirteen times a week on average. She held great respect."
Tony was even more surprised. "For me? Are you sure?"
"Yes. Anthony Edward Stark, Iron Man, the billionaire industrialist, a founding member of the Avengers, and the former CEO of Stark Industries. A brash but brilliant inventor, she said."
"I think 'brash' is a bit harsh." He mumbled.
"She also told me you would say that."
He scoffed, amused. "What else did she say?"
"She compared herself to you frequently, hoping that you would be proud of how much she had changed. She was very proud of you, after all. Her stories were fascinating, from her teenage days to her very last. She loved you dearly, boss."
Tony looked down, suddenly finding the floor of the room exceedingly interesting. It was only to hide the look of pain that settled on his face.
"I'm sorry she died." He told the AI. "I tried to save her. There was some kind of poison in the bullet that killed her. I... I couldn't save her. It was my fault."
"I don't believe that, boss." FRIDAY said. "Miss always knew what would happen if she revealed herself and she chose to accept the consequences. She wouldn't want you to take the blame. She accepted her decision hoping that she would get to see you again and she did."
"Well... Thanks for the sentiment. Have you been here the entire time?"
"I haven't. Miss put a protocol in place that upon the event of her death I should find a way into the Avengers Tower network and introduce myself to my grand-AI JARVIS."
Tony raised a bow, unable to guess if that was a joke or not. It sounded like one, and yet FRIDAY spoke with a very serious tone. Perhaps she'd taken your protocol very literally.
"An interesting term." JARVIS spoke up. "I recall the hack. Miss Stark was smart, however I would not assume myself old enough to be the equivalent of a grandfather."
Tony bit back a smile for two reasons. One, it was amusing to hear JARVIS compared to a grandparent. Two, you had devised what was essentially just a command chain so well that it was capable of integrating itself into the network he had thought up. Did Fury know about FRIDAY?
"How long have you been around?" He asked FRIDAY. "How long were you her assistant?"
"Forgive me, boss, but I was much more than an assistant." She replied with a sassy undertone. "Miss created me two months and seven days after she found the warehouse compound five years ago. She considered me a friend. Family, if I might be so bold."
"Right. My bad. Who knows about you?"
"I helped miss with all of her SHIELD assignments so naturally Director Nicholas Fury and many agents knew of my existence. Benjamin, May, and Peter Parker were also aware. I functioned to assist her with all projects and those she considered family."
FRIDAY was amazing.
She had her own personality, the ability to learn and adapt through linguistic and presumably visual queues, she could perform complex hacks and interceptions, and was able to assist with your work projects. You did all of that in just two months while it took him four months to create JARVIS. Yes, the tech wasn't as advanced back then, but it was still an impressive feat.
"What did (Y/n) do here?" He asked.
"Her activities varied. The majority of her time in this lab was spent sleeping and revising for assignments from The Triskelion. She also kept personal effects here and made use of the warehouse as a dumping ground essentially. She kept a detailed journal of her years also."
"A journal? Where is it?"
"The desk drawer to your right."
Tony found the desk and went for the top drawer, for some reason surprised when it easily opened. Inside was only one thing.
The journal.
It was a 450 page one, leather bound in what had to have been your favorite color. Sealing it was a small padlock. He tried to open it but it was futile and instead checked all the desk drawers for a key.
"FRIDAY, any idea where she kept the key?" He asked as he searched.
"Originally it was with the journal, however she removed it some time before her death. She gave it to her brother."
Tony frowned. Brother? You didn't have a brother.
"Who?" He questioned, bewildered.
"I believe FRIDAY is referring to Dum-E, sir." JARVIS said. "(Y/n) was rather lonely as a child and found friends in many things."
Dum-E... Of course.
Tony remembered what had happened when he trashed the lab. He remembered the tiny bot rolling up to him and handing over the letter. Photos, letters, and keys.
A hand went to his chest where the very same key still hung. It was long enough that he could stare at the metal as he held it in his hand. It was warm against his skin, glinting in the fluorescent lights.
The words of the letter rang inside his head.
Did he even want to read the journal? Clearly you had intended for him to. Your life as Ellen Campbell seemed to be a peaceful one, perhaps even happy. But was it worth the agony of reading that?
"Pardon me, boss." FRIDAY said.
Tony kept his eyes on the key. "Yeah?"
"I think you should read the journal by the lakeside patio. Miss enjoyed spending time out there and I can assure you that you won't be disturbed."
"Makes a change." He mumbled. "I will. Thanks."
"Of course."
And so Tony made his way through the warehouse and outside. There was a nice spot overlooking the great lake with a few benches placed around - probably by you. He took a seat closest to the water's shimmering surface. Deep blue and reflecting the maturing sun, it was beautiful.
With a small sight, Tony fit the key into the journal's lock and turned it. A click sounded and the padlock popped open. He removed it carefully and set it down beside him on the bench.
"Here goes." He mumbled, opening to the first page.
Instead of angst and teenage grudges, he was greeted by doodles. You had written down your name and decorated the page with everything from miniature design ideas to self-portraits and world landmarks to graffiti letters. He had almost forgotten that even though now you were known as the friendly engineer, you were still once a kid immersed in hobbies and trends.
The first journal entry, however, was a stark contrast to the playful and inventive pages beforehand.
Hey, Journal
It's been a week now. A really long seven days. I got a bus, paid in cash obviously, and hitched a ride Upstate.
I found Grandpa Howard's warehouse from the files. It's where I found this journal. It's a mess but the view is nice. There's lots of grass and growing stuff and even this huge lake. It's pretty neat.
But I guess not even a sweet view helps the general anxiety. God, I sound stupid. It's just that I can't stop thinking about Obadiah's threat. People are after me. They don't just want to hurt me, he said they'd actually kill me. How touched in the head do you have to be to use death threats on a kid? I'm barely old enough to do my own taxes and I'm already running for my life because of some K-drama twist of fate.
This is all because I'm related to the great Tony Stark. Of all the dads in the world, I got him. I don't know what to think. He's my dad and yet... I don't know. I love him, I really do, and I miss my life, but I can't go back when people are after me. Let's hope I survive.
- (Y/n)
Tony struggled to digest just this first entry. If this was the first and already he felt a powerful mix of emotion he couldn't understand, how was he supposed to sit through 450 pages? Despite wanting to stop, he forced himself to turn the page.
Hey, Journal
I saw myself on the news today. It's kinda surreal, I guess. For the first time in literally forever, I feel like people are finally noticing me. That's bad, right? I don't know.
I don't know. I say that a lot.
I cut my hair and dyed it again. I finally used my credit cards, too. I took out some cash and then cut them up and booked it before anyone found me. I can't risk looking the same as the reports. Obadiah's people will find me.
On the bright side I'm thinking about making an AI like dad had. I'm probably in way over my head but I've made a list of stuff using his college book as a reference. Wish me luck?
Yeah, I'm sorta low on news right now so I guess I'll talk to you later. Thanks for listening.
- (Y/n)
Tony glanced up from the journal in his hands and looked at the lake again. You had to change everything about yourself just to live another day. It couldn't have been easy, scared to look the same way for too long or afraid to stay in the same place for longer than a week.
As he flipped through more and more entries, he finally gained the insight into your life that he craved before. He read all about how you discovered he was alive, how you worked in a cafe for a while, attending the Expo and saving a little boy and then seeing him again, changing your name and being recruited into SHIELD, meeting Steve and Bruce and the Parkers, accidentally stealing things.
He smiled at that bit, wondering just how in the hell someone could 'accidentally' steal.
After almost half an hour of reading, he discovered a break from the entries and stumbled across more doodles. It was more like a moodboard actually, a moodboard of him.
There were cut out pictures and articles of him in the suit, the Avengers, Pepper and Happy and Rhodey, and even a very rare photo of him smiling. In the middle of the pages you had written down a simple statement.
Do it for him.
His grip on the journal tightened as a pang of guilt struck his heart. It was a cruel thing that the pair of you had to wait until you were separated to realize how much you meant to each other. One of the big things that got him was how you had attended the Stark Expo and he had no idea.
He ran his hand over the pages and noticed a little bit of paper sticking out of one. It had the label 'pull me :)' on it and so he did. As he looked at what it was, tears began to build in his eyes.
-
It was just after the Mandarin attack in Malibu.
You had just discovered Pepper's old teddy bear. It was clutched tightly to your chest as you headed towards the SHIELD jet that Fury was currently waiting for you in. Your eyes were glazed over, your brows were furrowed, and you were biting your lip slightly.
The expression was for several reasons, the main of which being that you were deep in thought and trying to keep your emotions at bay for now. You didn't really want Fury to see you being so emotional. Since he always kept up the cool and stoic vibe it made him a little intimidating.
As he came into view - patiently waiting by the open ramp of the jet - you took a moment to collect yourself before approaching any further.
"There you are, Campbell." He said. "I trust you didn't get lost."
"Ha, ha." You mocked, pulling a face.
Fury considered you for a moment, noting the bear in your arms. "Since when were you into soft toys?"
"It's Pepper's, not mine."
"That's what they all say."
"No, seriously. Her grandma gave it to her when she was a kid. It's a comfort thing."
"It's missing an ear."
"I'm aware. I'll fix that soon enough."
"It's a good thing you've got some downtime on the jet, isn't it?"
"I'm actually waiting until we get back to HQ. I'm not wasting data on YouTube sewing videos."
He raised a brow. "You're telling me my best engineer doesn't know how to sew?"
"Shut up. I can't be the ace all the time, alright?"
You could tell he was hiding a smile.
"I did some digging of my own." Fury then said. "Got you something."
You exaggerated shock. "It's my birthday already?"
"Watch the tone, Campbell."
"Yes, sir." You said with a teasing and coy smile. "I'll rephrase. What did you get me, boss?"
"Take a look."
He retrieved what appeared to be a photo. You couldn't get a decent look due to the glare from the sun and waited until it was in your hand instead. You had seen many photos inside your home during the years you lived there, and yet you couldn't remember ever finding this one before.
Pain welled up in your chest.
The agony of missing a loved one was brutal. Sometimes it lingered, sometimes it came in stabs, but it always hurt. Yet, as you observed the far right of the photo, this sadness was quickly replaced with anger.
Without thinking, you tore the picture to remove the memory.
-
Back in the present, Tony was trying to control his hitched breaths as he stared at the photo.
He was so young back then, barely beginning his twenties. He was surrounded by Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy, all of them smiling with pure adoration and joy. Even his young self looked content for once.
In his arms was you as a newborn. He was struggling on how to hold you properly and that was clear by your expression of discomfort in the picture.
The photo was torn on the right side, the shoulder of someone visible over the jagged rip. That was Obadiah Stane's shoulder. You had ripped him out.
Tony averted his eyes immediately and focused on what remained in the picture. The happiness of everyone else.
"I miss you, kid." He mumbled.