hadriel_logs | you're part of a machine [OPEN/CLOSED]

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you're part of a machine [OPEN/CLOSED]

Who: Rey/Safronov and Nick Valentine (feat Alphys) + a couple open prompts.
What: Finding out that she has limited time left before her brain melts due to the infection that led to her death, ~~Rey~~ Safronov suffers a few blackout episodes before she is able to bring her successor back.
Where: Abandoned shop, Science lab, Robot House (1401).
When: March catch-all (feel free to specify dates in the subject line when tagging an open prompt if it's important).
Warnings: Suicidal ideations and other heavy subjects.

7th-19th; Abandoned Shop [OPEN]
(are you insane like me, been in pain like me?)

The headaches only got worse as the days went by. Sometimes, she would hear the most unbearable ringing in her ears, like a grenade had just gone off right next to her head. More frequent came the nosebleeds, and within a week it became blatantly obvious that Safronov was working on borrowed time. She knew this, and there was no pride in being right.

Her memories at the Russian command center were vague at first, but over time she began to recollect her life more. Perhaps it was due to the infection constantly reminding her in the forms of distractions that were getting increasingly more difficult to ignore, but she remembers it all now: She had failed in her objective to destroy the synthetic's hub at the Grigoryevich Underground Center. As a result, its systems had trapped her. Hooked her up to a seat and sent a needle through the port to her brain.

It's not much unlike the needle that her successor had evidently worked from scratch, which had been used to unintentionally bring Safronov back to the forefront. Such a crude design, but one that did the job it was supposed to. All Safronov needed to do was make sure it did its job even better. Her DYI handiwork was all over the shop she had set up base in, so that she could labor on in peace. Peace that was becoming more frequently disrupted through headaches and, now, blackouts.

Sometimes, she would lose track of what she was doing, only to wake up on the floor after trashing the extra tables, chairs, and shelves around her. Quite a racket, for those passing by on the outside and happen to notice a light beaming in the mostly empty establishment.

At some point, it gets even worse. Blackout. Then, another bloody headache. Literal this time. Blood is coming out of her nose as she grips her head, screaming and rolling on the floor. The agony is searing through her skull, electrifying her body and she feels it under her skin.

One bullet should do the trick. In her blinding pain, she crawls across the floor, to the table where she had been working at to find her gun there. Or, Rey's gun. Her successor's gun. It isn't like she hasn't done this before. This is her body, after all. A different owner has taken it now, but she recognizes the subtle flaws and blemishes that were special to her.

Regardless of whose gun this belongs to, it's Safronov's pill now. Just what the doctor ordered.

20th; Science Lab [CLOSED to Alphys sciencelizard + Nick Valentine synthedick]
(do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?)

Of course, her only 'remedy' had been less than ideal, though unsuccessful. In the end, she can't.

This isn't Safronov's life to take away anymore. Despite the pain that Rey had so badly wanted to erase, it was clear that she didn't want to be removed from the world entirely. Not when there were people who cared for her.

More than anyone ever cared about Safronov. There would never be anyone to mourn over her death, and she was better off that way for it. It gives her less reason to cling to this life, or lament the inevitable.

Still wracked with the hot pulsing pain tearing through her skull, Safronov somehow manages to make it across this strange and hot city, back to the place where she had began. While most seem to arrive here through that Door, she came through different means. Unlike the people here, however, she has an exit strategy.

Her nose is bleeding once again as Safronov opens the door to the science lab, the bag holding her supplies that she will need for this slung over her shoulder.

"Doctor?" Safronov calls into the lab before entering. She can't recall if the reptilian scientist had ever designated herself with such a title, but that is what she is called now. Whether the fact that such a creature could even be called a scientist has never struck her as strange, however. Perhaps a little bit of her successor remains, grounding them both, or it's just that Safronov has bigger concerns. "Are you here--?"

Oh. Oh no. Not again--

Safronov grunts, staggering forward while the door slams behind her. Eyes squeezed shut, she finds a wall to rest on, fighting to remain conscious this time.

30th; House 1401 [OPEN to close CR]
(you can't wake up, this is not a dream.)

Nearly a week and a half passes and Rey's body barely stirs in her bed, though it's hard to say if she still even is Rey. If not for the steady breathing, one could easily mistake the prone woman for a corpse.

Though she doesn't show it, every so often she is cognizant of her surroundings. Voices of those standing over her, their presence nearby. She hears, she listens, but she could never reply.

Until the ninth day since Safronov had gone rifling through their head once again. Only her eyes open, and for the first several hours all she can do is stare at the ceiling over her bed. Process her surroundings, feelings... who she is, why she's here, what happened. She remembers her name -- or a name, more like it. And a few other things. The mysteries keep her thoughts more than occupied for the long hours she can't move.

And then she blinks.

Isn't it about time you wake up, sleepyhead? says a quiet whisper in the back of her mind. Where has she heard that before? In a dream?

The questions flutter away as she closes her eyes again, until she hears the sounds of footsteps approaching the opened door to her room.

To what should come as no one's surprise, curled up at the end of the bed is a three-legged cat, whose head lifts at the prospect of company. They will find themselves being stared at by the one, single eye belonging to the creature, before yawning as he stretches his front leg over the covers.

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Did she have to? Her mind wanders towards that question, but quickly draws back. There's no point in letting herself drown in guilt when it's already pulled her in its undertow for so long. And Nick suffered for it.

With a strained smile, Rey squeezes Nick's hands that take hers. She's awake now. Here. Sure, she might feel as though she's been run over by a truck, but she's not lost and gone forever like some who are.

"Safronov wasn't that bad, was she?" Rey scoffs, proving that she remembers a little bit of what happened and that there's no need for Nick to concern himself with dancing around too many subjects.

Rey continues to try to keep things light, but Nick can't even muster a smile for her -- not this time. Despite his minor relief at the prospect of not having to explain everything that went on during the month, there's still plenty of cause for concern.

Tripod wriggles his way out from under the covers; Nick's eyes flick to him, then to Rey, his brow tightening. "How much do you remember? About Safronov and what she's been doing? About what she did to get you back?"

The question comes like a pop in Rey's head, and she just blinks at Nick a moment.

"Um. Can remember some things, here and there... Not whole conversations, or anything like that, but the things she did, I... can remember that, sort of."

Which was probably Safronov's intent, considering the subject matter of many of those conversations.

Sort of. It's not a clear answer, but it's one Nick isn't going to push, either. She's not supposed to remember certain things -- Safronov had made that abundantly clear. There are some important parts he's going to have to bring up eventually, but for now, he lets it slide.

"It's good to have you back," he says finally, the silence having stretched a few seconds too long. He finds a safe topic: "You at least remember the new Null in town?"

The whole feel of the passing of time is still a little skewed for Rey. It's obvious that it's going to take a while for her to process being 'back'.

"Null..." Rey rubs her forehead after Nick's question, before it hits her. "Oh, you mean... Yes, I do. Probably a good thing Safronov had other problems to worry about, or she'd be hellbent on making scrap metal out of that thing."

And she wouldn't entirely be without good reason to.

"She wouldn't have been alone with that thought," Nick assures her, his eyes falling to his own, metal hand. He and Name might have a fair amount in common on the surface, but he's still on the fence about whether or not he really trusts the rogue Null. He doesn't think it's capable of deceit, not in the way folks might be expecting. It could accidentally lead the Null to them if its transmitter was repaired.

On the other hand, being able to find the Null might be one way to keep ahead of them. There's a lot to think about, and not enough concrete evidence just yet.

"Safronov didn't seem to keen on me, either," he admits. Thankfully, he didn't have to deal with her long, and she was willing to work with him when he did.

As Nick's attention falls to the metal hand -- a constant reminder to him of what he is -- Rey is the one to take his hand this time, fingers furling over the crude edges. Some might find the cold metal of his to be unnerving, but it's never bothered Rey in a long time. She offers a slight smile to remind him of this as well.

"It's nothing personal," Rey reasures him. Although he probably already knew, it never hurts to say it for posterity's sake. "She was infected by a synthetic. An AI, to be more specific, but... it was responsible for reproducing its own assembly line of synthetics. She tried to destroy it, but it was ready with a failsafe."

So it's impressive that Safronov allowed herself to be hooked up to Nick at all, considering the last time that happened. Though that part of Rey's memories are still a little hazy. Did Nick go into her head, or did Safronov do that solo?

Forsome reason, Rey just wants to avoid the headache of questioning it at all.

Nick wouldn't blame Rey for not wanting to dig too deep right now. He squeezes her hand, returning her smile despite the subdued frustration written in his brow. He can't change what he is, and sometimes, that's for the better; however, other times, it's not. He hasn't figured out how he's going to bring up his memory issues, but he knows he'll have to at some point.

"She said she was like a ticking time bomb," he explains, trying to meet Rey's eyes. "She might not've liked me or anything about the situation, but she worked hard to get you back. Hopefully, she understood how grateful I was and didn't think it was just clever programming. I don't know if she got just how much you mean to me."

One would take a look at someone like Nick Valentine and not expect clever programming to be at work there, but to Rey and so many people, he's more than that. Has been for a long time. Maybe Safronov saw a bit of that in Rey, though conveniently omitted some of those pieces from Rey's memory. She knows that Safronov spoke with Nick and Rose, but what about she couldn't begin to detail. She knows that she nearly stabbed Atem in the face and the photograph he gave her, but not much else about that talk. And when she tries to think about it, an electric jolt surges through her brain, and she's back to where she started.

"Doubt she wouldn't have bothered if that wasn't the case. It's not like she had anyone crying over her when she died."

A depressing thought, but it's a truth she knows rather intimately.

A depressing thought indeed, but one he doesn't doubt for a second. Safronov didn't have the warmest personality, but she got the job done. That's what really mattered in the end.

"You expecting a lot of tears at your funeral?" he asks, taking his turn to make light where he probably shouldn't. The very thought of Rey's death -- here or in her own world at the hands of IV -- makes him uncomfortable, pushes him to do what he can to keep her safe; however, even Rey can't deny the effect she's had on people, the connections she's made in the city and those who worried while she was trapped in her own head. If nothing else, maybe coming back will help her realize just how many people would miss her if she up and vanished. He knows she knows, but the game of getting her to admit it is one he enjoys.

They might not be as human as everyone else, but they're loved. That much is undeniable.

Indeed, Safronov was so effective at getting her work done that she never had the time for much else. Why would she, knowing what she was? It made sacrificing herself easier -- both the first time, and the next.

It's not something Rey prides herself on. Safronov's skills had helped her on more than one occasion, and this time was no different. Not even Nick can say otherwise.

For whatever reason she felt that what she did was necessary, all she can do is hope that it never happens again -- for her and Nick both.

"Hah, well. I wouldn't go expecting something like that for a long time."

Long as she can help it, anyway.

If there's anyone other than Rey who hopes this never happens again, it's definitely Nick. He makes a mental note to tie up a few loose threads once he's done here, ones that could unravel her memory if left hanging: he needs to call Henry and make sure he knows not to bring up Maketh, then maybe ask around the Clinic for who might've patched Rey that day during the Null invasion. If it keeps Rey in one piece, it's worth looking into.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," he says as he gives Rey's hand another squeeze, drawing in a long breath and getting to his feet. "There's more we need to talk about, but let's focus on one thing at a time. It's nothing that can't wait a little while longer."

Rey might disagree when she hears just what all it is he's worried about, but it's not as though putting her first is uncharacteristic for the synth. It's just how he is.

While Nick is trying to sort out how to deal with this mess, Rey just nods and starts pulling herself up against the wall, back on her feet. Her knees were a little wobbly at first, but she's starting to not like having this conversation with Nick on the floor of all places. Not with those old robot joints of his.

"Uh-oh, that sounds bad," Rey teases as she offers a hand in case Nick needs help standing up as well. "How about we at least talk about it out in the other room, on chairs? Feels like I've been in this room too damned long."

Not just during her recent episode, but the period following Maketh's departure as well. As she recalls the devestation in the wake of that, her memory of it isn't quite as extreme as the reality of it. Which is probably for the best.

That comment gets a dry smile from Nick -- given how she spent a lot of her time following Maketh's departure in the floor of her bedroom, yeah. She's been holing herself in the room for far too long.

Tripod beats Nick to the door, as the latter is staying near Rey in case she needs to help. She's been out of it for a long time, and there's no telling just how much Safronov's fix has affected the rest of her. Considering she was on the floor when he came in, it's a legitimate concern. He offers his arm to her, just in case she needs to steady herself.

"How are you feeling?"

While her equilibrium needs some work, Rey at least can lean on Nick a little for guidance to the living room. She'll be fine once she's on the couch, or so she'd like to think.

"Well, I'd liken the feeling to being hit by a speeding Calvary, but seeing that I know for a fact what being hit by a speeding vehicle feels like, I'd say I'd take the Calvary over this." She rubs her forehead with her other hand as she walks. "Nothing I can't walk off, though."

At least her wits are seemingly still intact. That's something.

That is something indeed. With her makeup, Rey is one of the few who could walk off getting hit by a vehicle, but Nick worries all the same as he helps her into the den. Tripod leads the way, trying to weave between their legs as they walk, his ratty tail curling this way and that the entire time. Nick would say no one missed her more than him, but frankly, it's hard to tell with the cat around.

"At least getting hit by a car might not leave you as someone else entirely," he notes. "You've had more than a few folks worried about you."

Nick's got some competition since Tripod made himself at home here. Why he became so taken with Rey, she will never know, but she isn't so quick to shove him away when she goes to sit down, relocating from the floor to proper seating.

"No, can't say that's how it works." She barks out a single, quiet laugh as she leans back in the couch, Tripod taking this opportunity to occupy her lap. "And honestly, I probably wouldn't be here if there weren't any."

Rey might not be Safronov, but she's been Safronov enough to know how that side of her past self thinks. What she was doing when she was questioning those close to Rey.

"I'm guessing Safronov found that out for herself with her little broadcast," Nick returns. He's not about to pretend that she fixed Rey solely out of the goodness of her heart, but he likes to believe that those who came forward wanting to help had some role in her decision, however small.

He settles onto the couch next to her; though it's easier to look her in the eye from his easy chair across on the other side of the coffee table, he'd prefer to stay near her for now. They used to relax a lot on the couch together before all this mess started, her resting while he did paperwork. It was so rare to see Rey just letting herself doze -- the unfortunate result of her being who and what she is. To give her the chance to just be a vulnerable human was something he really treasured.

It's also something he's missed terribly, a small grin crossing him as he takes a moment to just enjoy her company.

No matter how her head had been tampered with, that lingering isolation of the last several months haunt her still. That Safronov could never fix, whether she wanted to or not. In a way, that's how it's always been for Rey, but less so to that extent. Guess it would have been too much to ask for her to just remove the pain entirely...

Rey tilts her head at Tripod in her lap, hand resting over his head as he curls up into a ball, tail curving around her wrist. His one eye closes, his muscles relaxing as she senses him swiftly drifting into a deep sleep.

Poor guy must have been tired. He wouldn't be the only one.

"She probably would have let us die if that weren't the case. Wouldn't have thought it worth the effort," Rey says, her expression softening with sympathy. She doesn't resent Safronov for this. Rather, she pities her precursor. "In a way, that sort of means you all just saved my neck."

There's something in that sentiment that draws a dry chuckle from Nick, barely a rattle in the back of his throat. He might be a machine, but he's just about as tired as the cat on Rey's lap. They're all tired at this point. Rey isn't wrong, though -- she had a number of people worried about her, maybe more than even Rey herself ever expected.

"You'd have done the same," he notes, as he always does. Next time she doubts herself or questions how anyone could care about her, he'll be showing her the transcripts of that broadcast. Rey might not see her own value, but to so many others, she was worth trying to save.

He's sure as hell not wrong about that -- Rey would have done the same for him. She's come close to giving up her own life for others before, but now...

Things are so different now. Rey rubs the back of her neck, eyes lifting to meet Nick's. He laughs, and she tries to smile a little.

"Of course I would." Her attempt at a smile then wanes. "I'm assuming there were other things you wanted to discuss."

No rush. Just curious to see if she missed that much.

Nick's own smile fades for just a second as Rey brings up the other topics he had on his mind -- topics he hasn't yet figured out how to bring up, and ones he's not sure they can even fix -- but it returns in full force only a moment later as he swings an arm around her, draping it across the back of the couch.

"There are," Nick answers, leaning back into the cushions, "but they can wait. Chances are we'll still be here tomorrow."

They might not be, of course -- one of them could be taken back through the Door at any time, or lost within their own mind due to a programming error or faulty memory; however, if this was to be his last night in the city, Nick would still rather spend it with his family than worrying over his banged-up processor. Rey just woke up, and doesn't need that weighing on her just yet.

So he'll carry it a bit longer. For now, things feel about as they should be for the first time in ages, and he's not about to take that for granted.

True, they might not be here. Either or both of them could be gone and would be none the wiser for it, save for whoever remains.

All the more reason to treasure the present. Rey breathes out a sigh as she lets herself sink into the cushions as well, eyes closing. She tucks both her feet up on the seat of the couch, knees pressed to her chest as Rey rests her head against Nick's shoulder.

It's strange. She feels as if she hadn't felt this way in a long time. Whether that's more to do with Nick or whatever happened to her, Rey doesn't think to question it. Instead she closes her eyes, just cherishing the companionship she has while she's here.

Meteors could fall from the sky and obliterate the whole city off this damned planet, but at least she isn't alone...

"All right. Tomorrow it is." Rey feels her mouth pull into a slight simper once again. "Thanks."

The only certainty is forward.

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you're part of a machine [OPEN/CLOSED]

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