Author's Note: I loved watching this show from my childhood to my teenaged years, and I always enjoyed Computer's character. It would only be fair to write a fanfic involving him.

Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog.


The glow of Computer's monitor screen dimly lit up the attic with a light blue-tinged color. Courage quickly typed away on keyboard, trying his hardest to formulate his concerns into actual words that most dogs would never be able to accomplish. Regardless, Computer was not about to decipher words that were meshed together or completely made up, and was that twit typing in a scream?

"Slow down!" Computer ordered, speaking in his clear, British accent. "I suppose you think that I can read made-up languages with the way you're typing."

Instead of growling in annoyance at him, Courage threw himself further into a state of panic, babbling unintelligible words at a rapid pace. Okay, so the dog was some sort of trouble. That was really all Computer could get from that.

"Look, you can whine at me all night or you can type in English so that I can help you." Courage gave one last low whine before he resumed typing his problem up. Computer sighed. "Twit."

Help! Ghost dog try kill us!

Computer ignored the disgrace of grammar, looking through some websites for similar problems or articles. While he did this, he decided it would only be appropriate to mock the dog.

"Really, twit, how hard is it to get rid of a ghost? You must have done this plenty of times by now, or has your stupidity caused you to forget?"

This time, Courage glared at him, which Computer could tell through his built-in webcam. Sure, most parts that made up Computer were out-of-date, but what would be the point of giving an AI a voice without a pair of eyes and ears to go with it. A body would be more functional, but after that little episode where he took over the dog's mommy's body, it seemed preferable to remain in this form.

"Okay," Computer spoke, putting those thoughts back into his memory. "The best way to get rid of a ghost dog is to put a ghost dog collar on him. Available at any creepy, gypsy-run store."

"Aru?" While the word was non-existent, Courage's questioning tone and usual stupidity led Computer to comprehend its meaning.

"I would check downtown where there are stores, but that's just me."

Courage jumped off the wooden chair he was in, not bothering to shut down Computer before he left the attic. Computer sighed to himself for the second time that night, and then sighed again knowing that he would inevitably have that reaction at least once more before dawn.

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, and Computer was smart enough to know that it was not a natural draft that had entered the room. His monitor could not budge, but he knew that something was approaching him from across the room. A small suggestion popped in his software, telling him that it might be a good idea to call out for the dog and hope he hadn't left the premises yet.

"What ARE you?" a raspy voice asked from his side.

"A computer, you twit," Computer retorted, not afraid to verbally attack what was probably that ghost dog Courage had been panicking about. "And I suppose you're past expired. Play dead, why don't you."

An eerie silence followed Computer's taunts, and if it were not for the coldness running through his motor, Computer would have assumed the ghost dog left.

"My late owner had a computer," the ghost dog mused. "It didn't talk. It didn't help him when the human asked it to."

It was hard to see where this conversation was going, but Computer supposed buying the dog some time to get here would be a good thing to do.

"I'm a computer. You type in keywords and I find information for them. All computers do that." It had been awhile since Computer had seen another computer in action, but from the information he had of them online, he was sure that was still one of the basic processes of a computer.

Glowing red-eyes and sharp, canine teeth appeared before his monitor screen. The ghost dog looked more like a demon than the ghosts Computer was used to seeing. The image did not scare him, but he could see why the dog was in such a panic now. A weak-minded creature like the twit would never be able to stare calmly at such a face without so much as a whimper.

"No, I SAW you help him," the ghost dog growled, putting much emphasis on the fact that he had seen the exchange between Courage and the Computer. "You calmed him down and searched for the answer yourself."

If Computer had a mouth to frown, he would have at that moment. He did not understand the point the dead dog was trying to get at. If the ghost dog had seen their exchange, then why was he badgering Computer about and not going after Courage? What was the point of letting Computer know he had seen them?

A toothy grin took the place of the ghost dog's angry look. Computer swore the dark stains on the yellow-tinted teeth were bloodstains. "What would you do if I ripped that stupid, pink dog's throat out?"

Computer nearly froze his processing, not expecting their conversation to take a turn in such a direction. He remained silent, staring at the grinning ghost dog as he tried to think of the best response. The question did not rattle him; he knew for a fact that Courage received such threats on a daily basis. It was the fact that the ghost dog wanted to know what he would do if he were to carry out that threat. Was this some sort of test?

"Nothing," Computer answered in his nonchalant tone. "I'm a computer, not a savior."

It seemed the ghost dog was not thrown off by his response as he leered closer to the monitor. "So if you heard him screaming for help, you would do nothing?"

That was not one hundred percent true. If Computer was capable of hacking into their landline to call the police, he would. If he was able to offer advice for the dog to turn the tables on this unworldly creature, he would. If Computer had a body to use...

"I think you have mistaken me for one of those feeble-minded living creatures that form unnecessary and unbeneficial attachments to one another." Computer made sure to type the words out on his screen for the ghost dog to read. "I do only what I am programmed to do."

The toothy grin was now replaced with the ghost dog's former smirk. "Good. Tell me how to effectively destroy a ghost dog collar."

It was times such as these when Computer was surprised his hard drive did not crash. The pure absurdity of this ghost dog was almost unreal!

"Forget it!" Computer snapped. "I will not help you of all people."

"Then you lied. Terrible mistake."

In less than a second, Computer's monitor went black, and his power turned off. Everything felt hollow and cold, and even though Computer was technically gone, his memory still existed, keeping him on the brink of what he supposed was life. It was dark all around him, and it seemed to keep filling him up. He doubted he would ever see light again.

Days must have gone by at some point. There was no way to keep track of time, and being locked away in the dark for so long made every second seem never-ending. It was a silent, slow torture that made Computer wish that he was not even half-aware of anything going on.

Something changed, though. The coldness that had enshrouded his mechanics seemed to be leaving degree-by-degree every day. The darkness seemed different, too, but it was not as noticeable as the coldness slowly leaving him.

White flashed across his monitor and throughout Computer. He had been rebooted. He had been saved.

The old attic room came into view once more, and Computer had never been more delighted to see the dull and mundane place before in his entire existence. His screen was back to its usual color, and his processes seemed to be running smoothly. It was as though he had never experience that dark, cold place of being at all.

r u work

Computer paused, using his webcam to look around the area he could see. Looking down more, he noticed a familiar figure sitting in the wooden chair. "Dog! You're—"

The words failed to process when Computer's vision really took in the dog's appearance. Courage was covered in bandages and was sporting two swollen, sleep-deprived black eyes. The red tint in them was enough to remind Computer about the ghost dog.

"...that ghost mongrel pulled a number on you," Computer stated. "I guess I didn't have it worse after all."

Weakly, Courage typed on the keyboard. u smash. look dead.

"So that's what happened," Computer murmured, still unable to recall much from his confrontation with the ghost dog. "Well, I'm fixed now. Did you get rid of that ghost beast?"

Courage gave a small nod, wincing from the pain it still caused. Computer analyzed each and every injury that the dog had, making sure to go to the best websites that offered information on to how to help heal them the most effectively.

"I still don't get how you have to run to me for help on the simplest of things and yet you can fix a smashed computer all on your own. Do you enjoy giving me headaches or does your idiocy only apply to certain matters?"

Computer did not expect a verbal or typed response from the dog, but that was not the point of his snide remarks this time. Courage rolled his eyes at him, leaning against the desk as he watched a bunch of articles on specific types of injuries pop up on Computer's monitor. It felt weird being around Computer for the past few days without their usual banter, so Courage was thankful for some normalcy. It felt good to have his Computer back.

He figured he would ask another day what Computer did to make the ghost dog smash him up.

"Stop scratching that wound!" Computer ordered, causing Courage to stop using his back paw to scratch at the back of his ear. Courage grinned sheepishly, putting his paw down.

"You twit."