Gavin sat in one of the back break rooms, arm propped up on the table, his forearm panels opened up displaying the machinery inside.
His fingers had been acting up, unable to hold a pen or more importantly type on his phone.
With one screw driver between his lips and the other held carefully between thumb and forefinger in his flesh hand, he tried tweaking at the tiny bolts inside his cybernetic attachments.
Since the explosion he had reluctantly grown used to self maintenance, never a fan of admitting what he was a fucking cyborg, but knowing that unless he learnt how to fix himself when he ended up breaking parts, he’d only end up in more trouble.
It’s not like he wanted to cart himself down to a CyberLife foundation building, and there was no way in hell he was asking Elijah to fix him.
No, instead he’d do it himself.
“Little bit over to-AHCK”
Gavin screeched as his fingers suddenly clenched tight at sparks sprung out from the exposed wires, the screw driver clattering to the table, noise being drowned out by his own curses and complaints.