Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans. I'll be gone for a week, so I'm posing this ahead of schedule, hopefully it'll tide you all over.
CYBORG
Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up strapped to an operating table with no idea how you got there with some weirdo standing over you?
No? Well I have; twice. The first time is part of the reason I hate jello and interdimensional portals.
Long story, and not one I feel like telling right now. Instead I'll talk about the second time.
I wake retrained to a stainless steel table. I have no idea where I am or what happened after I was attacked.
"I hope the others are okay." I think grimly, tugging at my restraints. "Maybe they'll come find me."
"Please do not struggle." A calm, robotic voice says from behind me. "You are damaged."
I strain my head to look behind me, but to no avail. Fortunately enough, the owner of the voice shuffles over to stand in front of me.
Looking at him-her-Them, is somewhat painful. Not physically, but…
They're some sort of robot from what I can tell. Pale grey plating replaces skin with a dark blue robe covering the rest of the body. They have a helmet with a similar blue color and what looks like a button set dead center in the front.
Their eyes are what unnerve me. Blank, pale, lifeless blue. No irises, no sclera, no pupils, nothing. Just straight blue. Just like my own robotic eye, but blue. Nothing but an unemotive piece of glass.
The body is structured in such a way that I can't discern if they are supposed to be of a particular gender. Generally most humanoid robots are either clearly female, clearly male, or just don't seem quite human enough beyond basic shape. My body, for example, was a prototype intended for a stereotypical male with a muscled build, but was repurposed to fit me (again, long story). This person manages to be androgynous, with most of it's body covered and a slim face, but no obvious gender characteristics.
I'm sure Robyn would rant here about stereotyping, but you know I'm right. That is how most robots are made.
This robot, or maybe person, reminds me of myself; uncomfortably so.
"Damaged?" I ask, peering down at myself. Sure enough, I can see dents and cuts in my titanium armor. "Well, you ain't wrong, but that doesn't explain the cuffs."
"The restraints are to prevent excessive movement in the events of a struggle." They drone. "Risks cannot afforded, therefore you must be restrained regardless of disposition. Your cooperation is appreciated."
"Not like I have much of a choice." My captor moves out of my view once more and the sound of a welder can be heard behind me. I take a moment to actually look around the room.
Really, there isn't much here. In some ways it resembles a particularly bleak waiting room: Blank walls made of stainless steel and not much else. I can't see what my captor is working on, but I'd bet my non-existent college fund that it's the only other thing in the room aside from my little slab of metal.
Bored already, I consider my situation. I'm strapped to a table by some sort of robot (maybe human) which may or may not be hostile, I have no idea where I am, my friends are quite possibly in danger from the HIVE, and I'm not getting a signal, meaning I can't call to the other Titans for help or to see if they're all right.
On my own with no information. Joy.
"Time to change that." I clear my throat. "So, uh, would you mind telling me exactly who you are and where I am?" I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth. "Subtle Cy."
I'm quite surprised when I actually get a clean response from my captor. "My name is Fixit." They say, "Things come to me broken, I fix them. We are currently underneath Jump City's electronics disposal yard where parts are shipped off to China to be torn apart for the remaining valuable materials." I hear the welder stop as they continue, "I make it my job to take what I can from the piles of devices and repair them; or, if unsalvageable, reuse them in my own custom devices."
"So you steal scrap and repair it?" I clarify. "Ain't that illegal though? The stealing part, not the repairing."
"Yes." Fixit says calmly. "But allowing something perfectly salvageable to go to waste is something I did not agree with, so I chose to act against it in secrecy."
Something about that phrase strikes me as odd. "'Did not?' Past tense?"
"I cannot say for certain what I feel now. My brain may be too many parts robot to properly process emotion anymore. However, I will continue my task. It is all that I have known for many years, and I do not intent to stop." They explain with unwavering calmness. The noise of the welder returns as they fall silent.
"Definitely a person then. A cyborg, like me." I cast around for a bit more information. "So, uh, what exactly are these repairs? I'm just a bit dinged, nothing that would need replacing, right? What's with the welding back there?"
"You are correct. My welding is not for repairs." Fixit picks up what he was working on and moves into my line of sight, holding it up for me to see.
I can feel ice shoot down my veins. It's a face. A metal face. Not Fixit's, not a replacement for Fixit's, a replacement for mine.
"The structure of your mind is suboptimal." They drone, oblivious to my terror. "Forcing organic and mechanical parts to mesh together in such an unorganized fashion is hindering the transfer of information throughout your brain. Entire sections of your brain must be converted to the mechanical, and it would be easiest to just replace everything."
"Uh, no!" I shout, straining against my restraints. "I didn't agree to this!"
"Correct." Fixit says. They shift closer and hold my head still with one hand while probing the border between my metal plates and flesh, taking mental measurements. "However, it is necessary for your physical well-being. I apologize in advance for any economic, social, or mental ramifications that may result."
"You can't do this to me!" I snarl.
"Your statement is incorrect. I have all the materials and expertise necessary to perform such a procedure." They say calmly. They remove their hands and take a step back. "I am a doctor. I have docterates in robotics, neurobiology, medicine-"
"That's not how being a doctor works! There's ethics and stuff!" I protest.
"Are you a doctor?" Fixit asks.
"Well no-"
"Then please do not argue. You can trust me, I am a doctor."
I groan. "I'm telling you, you're wrong!"
"That is not possible. Having a doctorate makes me a doctor." Fixit states. Though I swear it sounds a bit like they're pouting.
"Yeah, but to be a medical doctor of any sort there's this code o' ethics you gotta follow. Somethin' about allowing me to keep my basic rights and stuff, and I'm fairly sure those encompass not being forced to undergo a surgery unless I give consent." I point out.
Fixit stays stock still for a few seconds, thinking I guess, before saying. "Please excuse me for a moment. I wish to verify what you have told me." and quickly shuffling out of view. I hear the hissing of a hydraulics as they presumably leave the room.
"I'm honestly surprised that worked." I grumble. "Now just to break out of these restraints."
Without Fixit around to watch me, breaking free really isn't difficult. I pop my right hand off my arm and let it crawl around the room with the middle finger up in the air like a periscope and acting as a camera for me to look through.
Turns out there's a button on the back of the metal slab that releases my restraints. Using the small rockets built into my wrist, my detached hand boosts up and hits the button.
Rubbing my wrists (after attaching the right one of course) I look around… Only to notice that there doesn't seem to be an exit. Hell, I can't see a door of any sort, just some sort of work station in the corner of the room.
A quick scan with my robot eye, however, reveals that nearly every inch of the walls is used for some sort of secret panel. Even some parts of the floor can open up to provide more workspace or tools or weapons.
I'm disappointed to find that my search reveals only one door directly to the left of my original position. That must be the one Fixit went through, and I'm not exactly wanting to fight them. They're more misguided than mean. Not villain material.
Besides, didn't Fixit say we were underneath the disposal yard? So maybe I should be looking for some sort of hatch on the ceiling. Unless, of course, there's a hatch or a staircase in the other room.
Speaking of the disposal yard though, how the hell did I get over there? We were in the middle of the city when I got knocked out; the disposal yard is near the southernmost seaport!
I jump as the hidden door hisses open to reveal Fixit.
"It would seem you have escaped." They remark, unphased. "How curious, your mechanical muscles must have been stronger than I calculated. No matter. I will simply subdue you and force your brain to stay asleep as the operation is performed."
"Code of ethics, remember?" I remind them. I discreetly hold one hand behind my back and morph it into a sonic cannon. I don't really expect Fixit to listen. "Can't make me go through something I didn't agree to."
"That is true." Fixit admits coolly. Their eyes start to glow an ominous shade of red, contrasting their seemingly calm disposition. "However, I have been living outside the law for many years now. I have no intent to stop now. You will undergo upgrades."
I hold out my sonic cannon, aiming it squarely at their face. "I'm gonna have to disagree."
"I will give you a single chance to reconsider your response." Fixit says in a low tone. Along the walls all around the room, panels start to slide open revealing a large assortment of weaponry: Tasers, EMP blasters, fine-point lasers, and all manners of saws and drills. "I have dealt with difficult devices before. You are within my capabilities to manage."
I grimace, knowing full well that I'm outmatched. "Sorry Fixit, I just can't agree to this."
"Very well." They drone. I almost swear I can hear a hint of resignation; like they don't really want to fight either, but feel they have no choice. "I will defeat you for your own good."
All they do is raise their right hand, but it sets loose all of hell.
What was once a plain, boring room becomes a warzone. I can't afford to be hit by the tasers or the EMPs at all, forcing me to move constantly. The other weapons are less dangerous, the saws, drills, and lasers will need several second to actually break through my armor, and the first two are extending from the walls by way of metal arms which I can break with a solid punch or a well-aimed sonic blast.
That being said, my body is made for strength, not agility. I'm fast, but can't really change direction on a dime, (think long distance runner over gymnast) so that means that despite my best efforts I'm still getting nicked by blades or clipped by EMP bursts.
Fixit just stands near the door, watching with their glowing red eyes. They're clearly controlling the weapons, but I can't really risk shooting them since I have no idea how frail their body is. A normal person can barely take a sonic blast, and machines are not always more sturdy than a human.
"There has to be another way to stop them." I think to myself as I blast one of the tasers off the wall. "Some way that doesn't involve a high chance of accidentally killing them."
Let's see… I know they're mostly metal, I known that they have no issues working outside the law, I know they have lost the ability to feel lots of emotion…
Yes, that's it! Emotion!
"Maybe I can't talk sense into them." I think, grinning. "But I might be able to spike some emotion into them. Time to make use of my repair bots."
Repairs weren't always simple for me. In the early days I had to tear parts of my body apart and conduct microscopic repairs with my own hands. It took a year of research, but I eventually made these tiny repair bots that reside in my cranium that can do the smaller repairs so I can focus on the large dents and such.
Thing is, I can control these robots remotely, and they are plenty capable of delivering a little electric shock.
Why is this important?
I'm going to forcibly stimulate the emotional center of his brain to push some emotion onto him. Is that playing dirty? Hell yes. Do I care? Not really.
My free arm morphs into what resembles and extremely thick needle. I fire at an EMP blaster that was about to take a shot at me before making a lunge at Fixit. My cannon arm turns back into a hand and grabs them firmly by the head and holds them still while I carefully pierce their helmet with my other arm.
My nanobots (which had travelled along my mechanical veins and were waiting inside of the needle) quickly rush into Fixit's head and carefully make their way across their metal brain.
I back off quickly, not wanting the weapons of the room to accidentally fire on Fixit because of my closeness to them.
My machines quickly do their work. They locate the Fixit's Limbic System and administer their electric charges.
Fixit's body suddenly becomes rigid. Their eyes widen slightly and they start panting. The weapons all around the room freeze in place.
"I… I had forgotten," They whisper after a moment, raising their eyes to meet mine. "What it was like to feel."
"That was just a small taste." I respond cautiously. "You're made of metal, sure, but that doesn't mean you're not human."
"And you get to experience this every day?" They ask, "Always?"
"More or less." I nod. My eyes flick around the room. "Mind putting away the arsenal?"
All the weapons immediately retract into the wall.
"Okay then." I say, hesitantly taking a step towards them and extending my needle arm. "Just stay still for a sec', I need to take out my repair bots."
Fixit obliges, staying stock still as I retreive my repair bots.
"I understand." They sigh when I retract my arm. "Emotions are part of what makes you human, as is free will. And that is why taking away your ability to choose was wrong of me."
"Not sure how they got that conclusion, but hey, I'm not complaining." I think, surprised. What I say out loud, however, is: "Uh, sure. We'll go with that."
Well-spoken I am not.
"Please." Fixit says, gesturing to the door behind them. "Allow me to show you out."
"Thanks." I nod. "I'm just be glad to be away from this death trap."
I follow Fixit through the door into a room filled with scrap and a sole computer sitting on a desk in the far corner. The walls are orange with rust and there is a giant tube in the middle of the room coming down from the ceiling. Probably for bringing in new scrap if I had to guess.
At the far side of the room is a ladder, dusty with disuse, and a small hatch just above it.
"There is your exit." Fixit says quietly. "I do not suppose I will see you again?"
"Well…" I quickly think it over in my head. "Fixit isn't a terrible person, but clearly not on the right side of the law. All in all though it would probably be better for him if I came to visit, maybe tried to convince him to go outside a bit. Who knows? They might be a valuable ally." I nod at them as I climb grab onto the ladder. "Yeah, sure, I'll come visit. Right now though I gotta scram back to the Tower. My friends need me."
"I wish you well." Fixit says as I push open the hatch. I am certain that I can hear wistfulness in their voice as they say. "Please come back soon."
I stay silent up until the moment I close the hatch from the other side. I then breath a loud sigh of relief, happy to be away from the crazy hermit.
"Now," I grumble, looking at the mountains of electronic waste around me. "I just need to get home."
A quick attempt at calling the other Titans tells me that my communicator is damaged, so I resign myself to a long walk home all by my lonesome.
And to think this started out as a perfectly normal day.
There's Fixit. That's three fights in one day for poor Cy. Yeah, you heard me right. This is still day one.
