Here we are! With a new story, in a new fandom! This will be based off of the good ending, mostly from Jacksepticeye's playthrough with one change. I will try and leave other paths at the end of each chapter. I think that's all, let's rock and roll!

09.15AM Monday 18th October 2038

"Megan? Are you in dear?"

A muffled voice came in through the front door, de-railing Megan's train of thought completely. She recognised the voice coming through the door; it belonged to an elderly woman who lived across the hall in a much bigger apartment.

She got up from her desk, giving her legs a bit of a shake to relieve cramp. Why were the best writing positions hell to get up from?

"Coming!" she called over to the door as she dodged teetering piles of reference material stacked around her chair. It was a mix of old books and tablets with references that couldn't be found in the US. On the way through one pile began to teeter and Megan had to pause to make sure it didn't fall over.

She finally made it to the door and unlocked it, opening it partway to hide the mess in her apartment. What she couldn't hide was the fact that she was still in cheesy, smiley face pyjamas and probably looked more tired than she felt.

"Hi, Mrs and Mrs Beckwith," Megan greeted the older couple. It was a surprise to see the two of them together these days. Both of them had trouble getting around and the oldest could barely leave the apartment. The elder was confined to a wheelchair while the younger stood next to her. Both wore shawls and thick skirts and tights against the cold.

Behind the elder, holding the wheelchairs handles, was their android, a PL600 model with the name 'Paul' on the uniform. They were seen more often than the Beckwiths, often moving laundry to and from the apartment or running errands.

"Megan, are you well?" asked the younger of the married couple, her hair held in place in a neat bun, "you're looking a little peaky."

"You say that every time you see me," Megan tried not to sigh. "I'm just pale."

"Of course dear," Mrs Beckwith smiled in that annoying, knowing way that only gentle old people have. She might as well have said 'We both know you're not being completely honest but neither of us are going to say anything.'

"Anyway," the older croaked, reminding the younger why they were here. She generally looked a good ten years older, even if she probably wasn't. Her hair hung loose and slightly scraggly over her shoulders.

"Oh yes, Megan, you don't have an android, do you?" the younger got back to her original point.

"No, I do not," Megan sighed once again, suppressing a groan. "Haven't really got the space."

"Nonsense!" declared the younger Mrs Beckwith. "Anyway, given, well, less than favourable circumstances..."

"She's catching up to me," the elder half croaked, half cackled, earning an irritated look from her spouse.

"Yes, we're having to upgrade to a new android."

Movement caught Megan's eye as their android, Paul, she had to remind herself, turned to look at the younger Mrs Beckwith, LED blinking yellow for a second. Her attention was stolen once again as Mrs Beckwith continued speaking.

"And we figured that we didn't want dear old Paul being sent to someone we don't know, or worse scrapped, so we thought you'd get some use out of him. You must be so lonely all by yourself in your apartment."

Megan blinked for a second, trying to wrap her head around exactly what was happening. This was hardly like giving away disused pots and pans or old books, as they were known to do. This was an android, something that could go for up $9000 and who knows how much repairs cost. She couldn't afford this!

"Er, th-thanks for the offer, but I can't accept," Megan tried to close the close as gently as possible on the couple, but they weren't having any of it.

"Undamaged, and an older model, so repair and parts are cheap," Mrs Beckwith wheedled. "More time for you to study."

Megan wanted to sink into the floor, but she could see there was no swaying the pair.

"Okay, okay," Megan swung the door open a little wider, revealing more of the mess that reigned supreme in her apartment.

If possible, Paul's eyes widened at the clutter and they marched in, almost pushing straight past Megan.

"Sorry, he's used to our apartment, where there's, not as much mess," Mrs Beckwith said kindly, but Megan was already charging in after Paul.

"Please leave the piles of books. They are organised," Megan ran her hand through her already tousled red hair as Paul moved to the various food wrappers scattered around. This was beyond embarrassing.

"We'll leave you two to it," Mrs Beckwith had that smile again as she shut the door, leaving Megan alone with Paul.

"Okay, erm..." Megan trailed off. You had to order androids, right? It seemed odd, they looked so human; how could you order them around like they were nothing? "Er, stop cleaning, please."

Paul did as she asked, standing straight up. Their eyes still flicked around, scanning the mess, and Megan agreed that it probably did look bad.

There were pizza boxes and general food wrappers on her desk next to her computer, even on top of the lesser used book piles. There was an overflowing basket of laundry that she'd been meaning to take to the laundry room downstairs for days, and never got around to it. The same argument could be made for the washing up, which piled up in and around the sink in the combined kitchen/living area.

The tv, coffee table and couch were covered in a film of dust from lack of use, and the carpet was in dire need of a vacuum. She didn't even want to show him the bathroom and bedroom yet.

She looked over at Paul. She could get him to clean this up. That was what he was designed to do, but what was she supposed to do while he did that? Get back to work?

Well, she could, but it would be way too awkward with essentially a stranger cleaning up after her.

"Okay, um. How about you take the laundry downstairs, and I'll..." she trailed off as Paul moved towards the basket of dirty clothes.

"Which detergent do you use?" they, no, they was too weird, he, asked, speaking for the first time.

"Er, it should be in the kitchen, give me a sec," Megan moved before Paul could, checking where she knew the detergent would be. Then she was reminded of one of the reasons why she hadn't done her laundry in a while. "Don't bother, there's none left."

"I can order some," Paul offered, his voice calm and measured, but surprisingly pleasant. Not that Megan had really known what to expect. "I just need the brand name and your bank details."

"Er, maybe not now," that may have been a little overly cautious, but she didn't want that kind of information in an android's database. She'd do her own online shopping. "There's washing up liquid, so maybe tackle that first, and I'll..." once again, she trailed off as Paul moved to the sink.

He quickly and expertly got to work as Megan hovered, feeling like she should help in some way. This was her apartment after all.

"I will take care of this," Paul assured, but Megan didn't feel particularly reassured. After another few minutes of uncertain hovering she went over to her computer, set a music playlist going and starting picking up the trash.

Paul looked over. "You do not need to assist. This is what I am here for."

"Well, er," Megan fumbled for a response, but didn't stop flattening pizza boxes. "There's a lot and two people would get it done quicker."

Paul tilted his head for a moment before going back to his task, the logic having apparently satisfied him.

Alright, using logic to pacify the robot. Sounds about right, not bad. Megan calmed herself down, busying herself with collecting the trash.

There was a surprising amount of it, even to her, and she was the one who put it there. She did have to pass Paul to grab a bin bag to put it all in, but he didn't seem to acknowledge her.

There wasn't enough space on the drying rack for all of the dishes, so Paul had just started drying as Megan braced herself to go and take the trash out. The last thing she wanted was for someone to make small talk by the dumpsters, or worse, in the stairwell.

Thankfully no one was about, and she quickly discovered why. It was still early in the morning and bitterly cold.

She rushed back upstairs to find that Paul had finished drying, and was searching the cupboards for where to put the dishes back. The cupboards were mostly empty, given that up until recently, the contents had been waiting to be cleaned.

"Er," Megan paused as Paul looked at her, clearly expecting to be told where to put stuff. "I-I don't have a system. Put them where you think they should go."

It was a lie, and she wasn't sure if he'd worked that out as there was a slight pause from the android. "Understood."

He took a step back from the cupboards, scanning for less than a second as his LED turned from blue to yellow and back again. Scan apparently complete he began putting everything away much more quickly than Megan ever could. That was a relief.

Looking around for what to do next, Megan glanced at her computer, wondering whether it was worth getting back to work yet. Nope, he was still here, still cleaning her apartment and it was still awkward.

Megan grabbed her books piles one by one and placed them on the coffee table so she could activate the criminally underused Roomba. She noticed that it was also covered in a film of dust as it sputtered into life, but it didn't seem to care as it puttered around the apartment doing its thing.

Paul had finished with the dishes, so moved from the kitchen and pulled open the curtains, making Megan turn away from the sudden brightness. Making matters worse he opened the window, letting in freezing cold air and the noise of Detroit.

"Can you please close the window?" Megan asked. "It's freezing!"

"This apartment is significantly above freezing," Paul intoned but closed the window as she'd asked, "and fresh air makes the room smell better."

"Is that what the Beckwith's told you?" Megan muttered, which Paul seemed to pick up on.

"Yes, although they would often disagree upon the temperature."

"I can imagine," Megan agreed, before starting when Paul moved again. "Where are you going?"

"While your apartment is smaller than Mrs Beckwith and Mrs Beckwith's, there should still be a bedroom and a bathroom. Most likely they would need cleaning."

Who knew androids could have sass.

"O-okay. You do the bathroom, I'll do the bedroom."

"I can do both."

"I'm sure you can, but I'd prefer that you didn't go in my bedroom," Megan was slowly growing confident around him. Although, that rule went for anyone who came into her apartment, not that it happened often. Or at all.

"Understood. Are there sufficient cleaning supplies?"

"I-I don't know, but I hear vinegar is a good substitute."

Paul looked at her, as if dearly tempted to sigh in frustration. "I will see what there is," he disappeared into the bathroom and Megan put her head in her hands. He'd been here less than an hour and she'd already had enough. She wanted her peace and quiet back!

Other options:

Choose not to help Paul tidy up

Allow Paul in Megan's room

A few dialogue options that I can't think of right now

This is not a poll! All the chapters have been written out! Although if anyone has any other ideas on for alternative options, please let me, and if I like them, I'll include them with credit of course.