Memory of You - Part Four
Chapter Index
(WARNING MENTIONS OF SYNTHETIC GORE/INJURY)
ANGSTY/COMFORT Reader x Kirsh: During the exploration of the Maginot, Kirsh is severely damaged. As chief synthetics technician, it's up to you to repair him, but are you up to the task to repair your friend? Or is it all too much..
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First off, Arthur is our guardian angel. Secondly; our poor reader is finally getting a little closure (finally). I definitely prefer writing longer chapters, it feels so much more satisfying to get more out of the chapter itself. Apologies for the long waiting time between chapters, I think this story benefits from my being a little slower in writing it (similar to Home for the Holidays).
As per usual, I am so sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I will proof read (for what feels like the hundredth time lol) to check anything!
Anyways! I hope you lot enjoy! Next chapter should be written and uploaded soon!
Memory of You
Chapter Four
“Oh my god” You breathed, eyes widening as the terminal finished clicking, the sentence it had begun typing out, complete and sitting singularly on the blank screen.
“Wh-What does it say!?” Arthur asked as he rushed to your side, adjusting his glasses to read the message, but his demeanour slumped instantly. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He then huffed incredulously as he read the sentence.
K: Tell Arthur to get his hands off me. Immediately.
“He’s alive.” You said, your vision blurring with tears as you looked at the screen and then back to Kirsh’s body on the bed. “It worked...Arthur it worked.” You repeated, wiping your eyes with the heels of your hands.
“How the hell did he know I was touching him?” Arthur frowned and looked back and forth between the terminal and Kirsh’s otherwise lifeless physical form.
The sound of the terminal clicking made you both jump a little, but the pair of you eagerly huddled to read the sentence that was typing out on the screen.
K: My body is unresponsive currently to any input feed. I will need my central processing unit replaced in order to regain full cognitive as well as physical function. However, I have a low sensory feed, and can hear you.
“That’s creepy.” Arthur said, but was distracted as you pushed past him to approach Kirsh’s head.
You produced a small flashlight from your pocket and shone it into the cranial port you and Arthur had used during the diagnostic analysis. Thankfully nothing seemed fried or damaged during the spark out, and so you trailed the light upwards and into Kirsh’s ear cavity to observe his hearing processors.
“If his hearing processors are in-tact…I can use that as a jumping off point to repairing the connecting areas of Kirsh’s central processing unit.” You said, although it was more so to yourself, rather than to Arthur.
“Hey now wait a minute.” Arthur began as he was between wrapping his injured hand up in a handkerchief he produced from his back pocket. “You need sleep. We got him back online, that’s a start. But you gotta rest.” Arthur reasoned as he approached you, gesturing to the terminal and then to Kirsh’s body.
“But what if-“
“Listen to me, for two seconds.” Arthur suddenly said, firm yet fair, a stark contrast to his usual sheepish demeanour towards you. “You’ve been at this for days now, and you’ve barely slept or eaten…or showered might I delicately add.” Arthur smirked gently, trying to lighten his chastising.
He could see the visible hesitation within you as you looked from his concerned expression to the terminal.
“I’ll keep him company whilst you rest.” Arthur said, answering your anxiety. He looked over beside the terminal to your data pad, to which he stepped across from you to retrieve and hold up. “You’ve got a list of jobs that need done, so let me help with it? Even for a few hours.” He offered, though you knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, not this time. “You’d do the same for me if it were Wendy, or any of the other’s.” He added, hinting to the Hybrids.
The terminal began clicking, and you glanced over at it whilst Arthur turned around and began to read the message, left by Kirsh’s consciousness.
“What is it?” You asked as you walked over, peering over Arthur to try and read it for yourself.
K: Go, rest. And thank you. We shall talk later.
Your chest tightened a little as you read the message. “I think that’s the first time he’s ever agreed with me on something.” Arthur said with a faint chuckle and shook his head in astonishment.
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Reluctantly, you left Arthur and Kirsh, taking the former's advice to head back to your living space to refresh yourself and attempt to sleep. Everything around you felt surreal, as if it were all a dream, that Kirsh was still lost to you. Everything moved strangely around you, people moving through the corridors and past you in a haze whilst you navigated home. Arthur had briefly commented as you made your leave that he would assign some of your staff to help with the jobs, something you were at first reluctant over, but you realistically couldn’t deny was a necessary help. If anything, the bulk of your staff were synthetics, and so would be able to make clear and accurate decisions whilst working on Kirsh.
You entered your living space, and exhaled a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in. You could feel the weight of exhaustion now settling in, your lack of sleep and sustenance over the last few days had finally caught up, now that your mind had slowed.
“Shower.” You mumbled to yourself, a singular instruction, as if upon uttering it, would activate your legs to head in the direction of your bathroom.
As the warm water from your shower cascaded across your body, you leaned against the tiled wall, eyes closed. Your brain felt tight, as if it had swollen and couldn’t be contained in your skull, filled with questions, worries, answers, thoughts…Kirsh.
In a flash, the memory of yourself, observing Kirsh’s remains for the first time in the central lab, his torso torn and lower half lost to god knows where, and all the nauseating horror that came with it, swept over you.
You opened your eyes, willing the image out of your mind's eye. By now the bathroom had steamed up and left everything in sight a damp and hazy fog, and so you stepped out, clean and pruned at the fingertip. You dressed in a set of fresh night clothes, and made yourself something to eat, though you were only able to get a few bites in before you could no longer stomach the sight of food. Your mind was still whirling, and exhaustion seemed to only be exacerbating the fact.
You walked sluggishly over to your living room, scooping up a data pad and tapping it to life as you relaxed into the couch. Your eyes skimmed over the work load Arthur had been going through since you had left the central lab, and true to his word, he was getting through the list like wild fire. Little jobs all amounting to the bigger picture. You made a mental note to send a thanks of some sort to Arthur, and indeed Dame for taking more time away from them, in order to ease the stress on your end.
You swiped through the reports that had been submitted by several staff members, written submissions and photographs of Kirsh, information that would have taken you several days to get around to had you stuck with your stubborn plan to go it alone.
Go, rest. And thank you. We shall talk later.
Your mind repeated those words over and over, a promise from Kirsh that made you feel safe, as if it were insurance that he would be there, in the lab, and that you could afford to relax. As you continued to scroll through the data pad and reports, your eyes grew heavy, and slowly, sleep overcame you.
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You could hear frantic voices, snippets of conversations rushing past you as you stood idle in the middle of the aircraft hangar. Arthur and Dame rushed past you, heading directly towards Wendy and the Hybrids.
A bright flash skews your vision, and suddenly you’re in a pitch black room, wherein a bright light shines down directly onto a bed, a body laying under a white sheet, visibly damp at the torso. With a trembling hand, your reach out to draw back the sheet, revealing Kirsh, his body gushing circulatory fluid. Streams of his precious liquid poured onto the floor and subsequently your feet and shins.
Suddenly, his lifeless hand snaps up to grip around your wrist, pulling you down to a mere few inches away from his face. You felt suffocated with fear as you were unable to look away from Kirsh’s wide open eyes, burning into yours.
“Why…didn’t…you…help me.” Kirsh’s voice sounded metallic and skewed, watery as with every word he spoke, white fluid dribbled out his mouth.
“I tried! I tried Kirsh please!” You pleaded, trying to pull yourself away from the synth, but the more you struggled, the more Kirsh bled out his fluids.
Horror stricken, you watched Kirsh’s eyes, nose and mouth weep white with circulatory fluid as he continued to ask his initial question. You continued to struggle, to pull and try and escape him, repeating yourself over and over.
I tried!
I tried!
I tried!
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Immediately you shot up in bed, a damp sheen of sweat slicking over your skin as you gasped for air. The blanket that was usually slung over the back of your couch, now tangled around your legs and middle, explaining the ‘trapped’ feeling you had felt in your dream.
*Beep Beep Beep*
The sound of the data pad -which now lay abandoned on the floor, no doubt cast aside during your nightmare- brought you back to reality. You looked down at your wrist, as if to check and see if indeed it had all been a horrible dream. As you ran a hand through your hair, you exhaled deeply, willing away the anxiety and attempting to calm your heart rate.
You leaned down to pick up the data pad, and tap on the alarm that was beeping. It was now four in the morning, and most likely Arthur had left to go home to Dame, or check in on Wendy. Meaning the only ones in the central lab would be observational staff, which tended to be synthetics.
Despite your nightmare, a gnawing feeling of unease couldn’t stop you from slipping on some shoes and grabbing your lab key card, intent on visiting Kirsh.
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Thankfully, due to the early morning hours, there was hardly anyone frequenting the halls, save for cleaning staff and the odd security guard and synthetic. On your way down to the central lab, you rubbed the back of your neck, and tried to convince yourself that your heart had calmed down from the nightmare.
But it hadn’t.
If anything, the rapid rate increased with each floor you descended past, drawing closer and closer to the scene of your nightmare. You were too tired to decipher what it all meant, perhaps a trip to Dame wasn’t so out of the question.
The elevator arrived at your stop, and as soon as you stepped out, you felt your skin prickle with the cool air. True to your suspicions, there were a handful of familiar faces from the synthetic staff, wandering around with data pads, greeting you as you approached the secure doors to the central lab.
“We weren’t expecting you so early, Arthur had informed us you had retired for some much needed respite.” One of the synthetics, whom was manning the security systems adjacent to the doors, commented as you handed him your key card for approval.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You half lied with a sluggish shrug, watching as the synth fed your key card into his terminal and typed your log in to his personnel register.
“Here you are.” He said, retrieving your key card and sliding it back to you. “Do you require any assistance?” He added.
“No, no thank you. I’m just here to check in on Kirsh.” You confirmed, nodding your thanks as the secure doors opened up, allowing you access.
When you stepped inside, you could see two synths, one at the terminal beside Kirsh, and another, adjusting cables that fed into certain sections of his destroyed stomach and torso. It was clear to you that no matter how many times you exposed yourself to it, the sight of Kirsh in such a way was always going to send a wave of sadness and nausea through you. The synths spotted you and greeted you in a similar fashion to the security staff out with the lab, repeating that they weren’t expecting you.
“How is he?” You asked. “I didn’t have time to read over your reports, but I did see you've made a decent start on repairs.”
“He is progressing. We have managed to begin construction on certain sections of his lower half as per instructed by Arthur.”
“Surely his internal processing unit is a little more pressing than his lower half.” You muttered to yourself as your eyes roamed over the work that had been done in your absence.
As it stood, Kirsh’s physical form as akin to a puppet, where at the point of him being damaged, wires and tubes fed out from his artificial skin. The staff had stripped him of what was left of his stained and torn jacket, essentially leaving him naked and bare, sections of his skin were a little discoloured as patches of repair had already been started.
“We voiced a similar opinion to Arthur.” The synth staff member at the terminal answered your concern, alluding to Arthur’s oversight of Kirsh’s repairs. “However, he reasoned that it would make you feel at ease if it were you whom were to work on Kirsh’s internal processing units.”
You’d do the same for me if it were Wendy, or any of the other’s Arthur’s previous statement echoed in your mind, and you felt a little lump rise in your throat at his mindfulness.
“Kirsh agreed, mind you.” The other synth said over his shoulder as he tidied away his utensils. "I doubt he'd trust anyone else to do so."
“He…he what?” You frowned and looked up from Kirsh’s body to the synths.
They pointed to the terminal, and you remembered that Kirsh -technically- was right here with you. Listening to it all.
“Shall we leave you?” The synth at the terminal said, though he already stood up from his seat.
“I’m not stopping you from your work?” You asked, meekly compared to your recent demeanour in the lab.
The synth softly smiled at you and shook his head. “Not at all.” He answered and gestured for his colleague to follow him, leaving you and Kirsh in privacy. “Please send for help should you require us.” He added before leaving the central lab with his colleague.
Now, the room felt all too quiet. Save for the constant whirring of the cool air conditioning, and the various terminals now operating in the lab to keep Kirsh ticking over. You weren’t quite sure what you were there for, other than to quell the anxieties brought on from your nightmare. At that thought, you looked down at Kirsh’s hand, relaxed and vacant, resting by his non-existent hip. Nothing like the vice-like grip he held you in during your nightmare. For a moment, you hesitated, but you gave in and reached down to take a hold of his hand.
You raised up his wrist, and observed his palm and fingers, peppered with various scorch marks and cuts from the wreckage and debris during the incident, another job to add to the repair list. The nightmare you had felt so real, your arm stuck in Kirsh’s grip whilst he dragged you closer to his face, circulatory fluid gushing out every orifice as he gargled his pointed question.
Why…didn’t…you…help me?
“I tried…I did.” You whimpered, exhaustion marring your senses, and the line between nightmare and reality blurring momentarily.
That same, horribly nauseating feeling you had managed to quell, suddenly rushed over you, and you turned to look at Kirsh’s face. Expecting to see his mouth leaking fluid, expression angry.
But it wasn't. Of course it wasn't. He was unchanged, still and peaceful.
*click click click*
The terminal sprang to life, and you nearly lept out of your skin as the sudden noise filled the central lab, echoing around the sterile space. You looked at the terminal and then to Kirsh briefly, before shuffling over to the seat beside the terminal itself to read what had been typed.
K: Why are you awake?
You looked at the question, typed out as the cursor blinked beside the question mark, as if it were Kirsh tapping his foot expectantly for an answer on your end. You raised your hands, but as they hovered over the keyboard, the terminal clicked, essentially interrupting you before you had even formed a response in your head.
*click click click*
K: I have functioning hearing processors. You don’t need to waste time typing.
The little laugh that left you felt foreign, breathy and incredulous. You read the sentence, though it felt as if you could hear Kirsh speaking it, in his regular, sarcastically dry tone. He was here, in some form, with you, once again.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You answered the obvious. “Despite Arthur's intentions, I find it hard to come by rest at the moment, what with…everything going on.” You followed, and waited for the terminal to type.
*click click click*
K: You never did listen to advice, even well intended for your benefit.
“I suppose some things never change.” You smiled, though you felt it difficult as a wash of emotions overcame you.
This was the first time since before the incident with the Maginot, that Kirsh had properly spoken to you.
“Kirsh I…I…” You started your sentence, but somehow couldn’t finish it. You weren’t sure how to squeeze in everything you had felt over the last few days, into one sentence. “I missed you.” You said simply with a defeated sigh, clearly not what you wanted to say, but for now, it had to do.
*click click click*
K: I think you should speak with Dame. Soon.
Whether it was the beginnings of hysteria, you laughed. The very notion of all people, Kirsh ushering you into Dame’s office, amused you to no end.
“Ironically, I thought the same thing on my way down here.” You agreed and rubbed your tired eyes.
The room fell silent, and you looked from the terminal to Kirsh’s body. Now that there was a means of conversing with Kirsh again, the idea of him resting on the bed, didn’t feel too far-fetched. You got up from your seat, and approached him, eyes roaming over the work that had been done by your staff.
“You should be kinder to Arthur after all this.” You commented with a watery smile, listening to the terminal type.
*click click click*
K: I already said thank you.
You smiled and shook your head at Kirsh’s stubbornness. Indeed, some things never change, you thought once more to yourself.
“I reckon by tomorrow…should everything go according to plan…I can replace and reconnect your internal processing unit.” You mused, reaching out to Kirsh’s jaw to angle his head to the side, eyeing his cranial port. "That way we can begin retrieving more of your data." The terminal clicked in response.
*click click click*
K: Stop pushing yourself. I know Kavalier and Atom are pressuring you to do so.
The sentence left you feeling strange. Clearly Arthur had mentioned something, either in passing to a staff member that Kirsh had picked up on, or directly to Kirsh. Either way, you sighed and shook your head, turning your attention from Kirsh’s cranial port and to the terminal, reading the sentence again.
“They want the data from the Maginot.” You said, though you knew Kirsh was aware. “More so than your full physical repair.” You said, unable to hide the irksome tone in your voice.
*click click click*
K: Naturally. My mind is more valuable than my body. However, as I assume you will know, I cannot access the data. Not in such a state.
“Hence why I tried to explain that this will take me time.” You replied, leaning a little more into the chair, your body relaxing somewhat as you wheeled over to sit closer to Kirsh’s bed side. “First I need to sort out your internal processing unit, then your optic receivers, followed by a full sweep of your data banks and memory storage. And that's just to start, we then we have to work on your lower half-“
*click click click* The terminal cut off your rambling, or specifically, Kirsh did. You peered across to read the sentence.
K: Stop. Pushing. Yourself. I will be repaired in the necessary time, but you must accept aid. It is idiotic if you think you can do all this on your own. And I know you are not an idiot.
You huffed a tired smile at Kirsh’s criticism, though it did bring you some comfort. You had to determine how you could take Kirsh’s comments, either as harsh or as soft as you’d like. Perhaps that’s where many of your colleagues tended to taper off from keeping Kirsh’s company, taking his words too seriously, or personally. Maybe you were deluding yourself, but more often than not, Kirsh’s comments felt comforting to you, cut and dry, a refreshing dose of reality.
“If I follow your advice, you’ll have to get comfortable with Arthur working on you.” You said with a slight smirk, looking over Kirsh’s wires and tubes connecting him to various readings and monitors.
*click click click*
K: I have survived worse.
You hummed a little chuckle at his dry comment, and let out a slight yawn. By now it was nearing the early hours of the work day, and soon enough the human staff would join the synthetic to begin their shifts and continue repairs on Kirsh.
*click click click*
K: You should return to your living space and finish resting. Arthur informed me that you’ve been neglecting your bodily functions. I needn’t waste time telling you how ridiculous that is.
“I will, but let me stay here…just until the first person arrives.” You said, asking as if Kirsh could force you to leave. Despite his current state, you still approached him with respect and autonomy.
*click click click*
K: Very well.
You took Kirsh’s single response as permission to stay beside him, and so you stayed there, looking over Kirsh and the little repairs that had been made under Arthur’s supervision. Gradually, the sound of the terminals, and the numerous machines intaking information to and from Kirsh, lulled your already sleepy mind. Without knowing when, you slowly rested your head onto your forearms, and fell asleep beside Kirsh.
