When Miriam found Christine, she seemed so excited at first, to have found someone else like her. The poor girl didn't have any idea that Christine's voice was only recovering, needed time to heal, rest, medication, and neither did Christine. They communicated briefly by taking turns on Miriam's Pip Boy but it was long and time-consuming and Christine didn't have the patience to focus on it.
"I can make it hands free now. Workbench. Need extra hands."
Christine had replied with a shrug and a nod and they returned to the clinic where Miriam would find a workbench to pound on. When they returned she wore a clunky piece of headgear which she had tied under her braid to secure it. She looked unhappy with it, but when Dean asked, "So, finally find your neural interface?"
"Yes missing padding rubs kind of hurts no filter." She grumbled and fiddled with it, trying to reset it so it would slow down, punctuate her sentences. "Only reads English have to think in—"
She cut the volume immediately and took a seat on the fountain, rubbing her forehead. It was just then he noticed the cord poking under her collar and bulging from under her sleeve, which she moved just slightly aside before typing, "Old corroded hardware."
"And your other one was better?"
"My other one was practically brand new."
"Really?"
"Mr. House, Robco tech. Lots of Robco tech."
Blood started rolling out of her nostril and down her lips. She touched it faintly and reached for a cloth she no longer possessed before standing up and tilting her head back.
"Gonna go inside, having trouble breathing."