Butch-man was reading stuff on Pinky's terminal.
He didn't understand a single word.
Look. Butch-man wasn't dumb but he swore every line had 'science' and 'technology' somewhere. Okay. So not every line. But this was bullshit. Who the hell knew what a fucking… 'deltoid' was. Or a 'zytomasomething major'. Whatever. Where were the pictures?
"Hey, old man! Don't ya have pictures or something?" From somewhere above, the old man grunted a reply which Butch couldn't catch. "Where are the fucking… diagrams and shit?"
"Kid, don't desecrate my notes," Pinky warned as he leaned over the railing. Butch snorted.
"I ain't gonna mess up your notes, old man. Ya already made me swear on it." Butch kept his promises, okay. Pinky started descending the steps.
"All of the information is in the terminal. Clearly, you are too dense –"
"Hey, pal. You're asking for it." Butch bristled.
"Damn I need to cut someone today," Knoxxie suddenly exclaimed from above. It shut the both of them up. "Don't you have recordings, Pinkerton, sir?" Pinky's frown faded and he relaxed at being addressed like that. The next time Pinky spoke, he actually sounded gentler. See. This was why Knoxxie was a fucking snake: that silver tongue. The Butch-man just took what he wanted but Knoxxie 'asked' for things… What a jerk.
"Like I said, Neanderthal. It's all in there. Having you even… put your fingers on the terminal –"
"Yeah yeah. Lighten up, old man." Butch found the recordings. Shit. That's a lot of recordings. He switched back to the notes.
"What exactly are your motives?" Pinky asked him. Butch sighed at having to answer this question again.
"Look. I told ya." He stared levelly at Pinky who glared at him through narrowed eyes. "I just wanna know." Yeah. Butch just wanted to know, okay. "I ain't a spy." He's just a vault punk in the Wastes. (Sure. In the Vault, he was a rebel or whatever. Ain't a spy but he could steal anything for the revolt. And bust anyone up. Not that Pinky had to know.)
Shit. He couldn't believe this. The Butch-man was reduced to…reading science-y shit about androids on a fucking terminal. About A3-21. Chief Harkness. Tin Can. Yeah. Security Chief Tin Can Harkness. One and the same.
He scanned the list of notes and everything was a blur of science-y shit. Why was he doing this? Okay. Whatever. He didn't wanna think about this. He's just gonna… read everything and be done.
Hmmm… This log…entry thing was describing Tin Can's surgery.
Oh…
…No fucking way.
Tin Can had a fake heart…They took someone's heart and… shoved it into Tin Can's chest…and like… pasted it or something. Damn. Tin Can had a 'real' 'fake' heart. Man, was this messed up. Oh... Hell. Tin Can didn't have bones either. He had a tin can metal… casing or something to make up his frame. It wasn't bones. Well, not all of them. Shit. Even his fingers were the metal things.
That sucked. Did Chief feel things when he touched them? Could Chief still feel people and stuff? Feel skin? D'ya need bones to feel things? Or was it nerves that let ya feel stuff?
He skipped the words and came to a picture. It was Chief only it wasn't. It was A3-21. Y'know before he was the Chief. It was the android picture. Sure he had seen this picture before but… fuck. He didn't anticipate the heavy feeling in his stomach.
So…somewhere under Chief was this. This Tin Can. It was still his Tin Can, wasn't it? One and the same. Butch felt something painful rack through his body at the sight.
Well, fuck. Shit just got too real too fast. He hissed and pushed himself away from the terminal, accidentally sliding some clipboards onto the floor. Pinky and Knoxxie (and the fucking ghoul with the girl name) looked up at him.
Fuck this.
Butch got out his toothpick and went hunting for Lurks.
He could hear the dumbasses scuffling around a couple of doors away. They sensed him. Butch attacked. He slashed and goaded at them. He aimed for their faces while they aimed for his. Between a snake and a Lurk, he guessed a snake was many times more flexible as he dodged their big heads while they crashed into ruined furniture. Suck on that, Lurk. When he returned to Pinky's room, he was bleeding from multiple cuts. Good thing his jacket wasn't cut through. He sat at the terminal again where Tin Can's old face stared at him. The weird heaviness in his stomach came back with full force like he was still high-strung. Killing Lurks wasn't good enough to get rid of the feeling. The clipboards were still on the floor.
"Hey, Tin Can. You're messed up, y'know," he murmured. He picked up one clipboard which had an empty sheet of paper clipped onto it. He pulled out the pencil from his pocket and proceeded to draw out a rough figure of a man, of Tin Can. Then, as he read through the notes again, he mapped out every single real fake organ that Pinky put into Tin Can.
Lucky for him Knoxxie was a 'surgeon'. He pointed out where everything was on his diagram while Pinky was busy checking those little vials of blood Knoxxie had given him. Knoxxie was looking at him funny.
"What? Ya don't like my diagrams?"
"You're not planning on disturbing Harkness, right?" Knoxxie asked. What the hell, man? "You're only this determined when you wanna get at someone."
"The fuck?" Butchie didn't do plans. "Are ya his keeper or something?"
"He likes you, Butchie." Butch stilled. "Asked me to check on you. He thinks you're lonely." Butch snorted. "Yeah. Strange isn't it?"
"Hey, pal. You're asking for it…" Sure. Knoxxie was his snake brother and all. But hell, Butch would damn well hit him if he wanted to. His fists didn't discriminate, okay.
"What are you gonna do to him?" Knoxxie asked.
"I ain't gonna do shit to him," he almost yelled at Knoxxie. "He's just…confusing. Y'know."
"So, you actually wanna know more about him?" Butch stayed silent as he traced the cuts on his face, remembering that he had cut Tin Can once. "You've gotta be kidding me, man." What? His own Knoxxie didn't trust him on this?
"What? Can't I like people or something?" Knoxxie's eyes widened like he couldn't believe the Butch-man. "Is there a problem?" Shit. Now, he sounded like Tin Can. Butch reached into one of his jacket pockets to take out several pieces of folded paper. He handed them to Knoxxie. "I tell ya, man. He's confusing."
"You're writing notes to him?"
"It's a two-way thing, okay." Knoxxie sat down in front of him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Pinky glance at them. Knoxxie read the notes. Charon moved close to stand beside Knoxxie as his snake brother unconsciously leaned towards the ghoul. Butch stared at the clipboard in his hands.
Wow. His drawing sucked. And this was Tin Can? Really? Man… y'know. He added Tin Can's smirky calm face onto the diagram. Messed up.
Knoxxie placed a hand on his shoulder. (Butch was fine with that touch only cause it was Knoxxie. After all the fights they had, Knoxxie's touch felt normal to him.) There was this very weird but kinda happy grin on Knoxxie's face, like he was about to burst out laughing but… was constipated or something. Knoxxie chuckled.
"So, Butchie. When are you gonna ask him out?"
Butch punched him.
