Characters: I half own Catherine and Rosemary Gin, but I'll explain further after the fanfic. I do own Alexander Brio.
I don't own Docs; N. Gin, N. Cortex or N. Brio.
In this, N. Gin's first name is Norman. He just struck me as either a Nigel or a Norman. . . and Norman just seemed to fit him best.
A one shot told from N. Gin and (briefly) Cortex's point of view.
I couldn't really think of a good title. Flying High, Falling Low - at the start of the fanfic, everything's going his way (Flying High) until the accident (Falling Low). It's a crap title. If you can think of a better one, I'll be glad to read it.
Also I credit the Ministry of Defence as having an airfield. Okay, it's not literally an airfield, but. . . what else do I call it? Test zone? Demonstration area?
On with the fic.
Flying High, Falling Low
Ministry of Defence: Dr. N. Gin's laboratory.
"Stop fidgeting"
I stared into Rosemary's green eyes. "I can't help it, I'm nervous"
"Of course you are. Now keep still so I can make you look presentable." Satisfied with her work, she stopped adjusting my collar and tweaking the shoulders of my lab coat. "There you are. Now you're ready"
Ready for the demonstration. I couldn't help but think that this was how that Dr. Octavius from the Spider-Man 2 movie must've felt. My daughter, Catherine insisted on going to see it. I was surprised to find that the villain was almost someone I could identify with. Almost. I'm unveiling my new invention but I'm not going to end up with four mechanical arms welded to me when it all goes wrong. . . not that it will.
I paused to brush my red hair out of my blue eyes before I took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing"
"We'll be watching"
"You know, if this works out, we'll have enough money for your chemotherapy"
Rosemary had been diagnosed with leukaemia but at the time, even combined, we couldn't afford the treatment to cure it. I had to look for someone who was willing to fund my project.
She gave me the smile of an angel as she brushed away the hair that had fallen back into my eyes. "Good luck Norman"
Ministry of Defence: Airfield
The demonstration was being held outside as my invention isn't exactly indoor-friendly. "Greetings," I offered to the small group of people, many of them physicists. "I'd like to thank you all for coming." Start with a joke, she'd said. Um, okay. What joke? "Before we begin, did anyone lose a brown wallet with an elastic band around it? Well we found the elastic band"
The crowd chuckled cautiously and there were a couple of polite guffaws. But that was all. I inwardly grimaced.
"Forgive me that was a terrible joke. And to be honest, not mine. Who else here has been dragged to their local cinema to watch Spider-man 2"
I surprised when that got a laugh and nearly the whole crowd raised their hands. "Ah good, I'm not the only one. But of course. You haven't come here just to hear me talk about what I did over the weekend. It's time to move on to the main event"
I walked over to my invention which was concealed beneath a drape. I pulled it off. (Cue dramatic music,) I thought to myself. A respectable murmur of awe rose up from the crowd.
"I present to you my self-loading missile launcher. It's a standard-design missile launcher, but built slightly larger to accomodate the computer which operates the arms. Allow me to demonstrate." I activated the launcher. "I'd like to thank the American Army for agreeing to be on hand if something goes wrong. The launcher is empty. The computer registers this and engages the arms." As I spoke the two many-jointed arms, based on the legs of insects "uncurled". "On either side of the launcher are two "trays" with pressure-sensitive floors that detect the weight of missiles ready to be loaded. The information feeds into the computer and it is able to direct the arms to the missiles' location." Whining and clicking, the insect-like arms reached out and carefully picked up two missiles in their tri-clawed pincers. Moving smoothly yet quickly, the arms slotted the missiles into the launcher and repeated the process until it was fully loaded. "The computer detects when the launcher has reached full capacity and puts the arms on standby until they are needed again." The arms went back into their "curled" position.
The crowd applauded. I searched the crowd eagerly, looking for Rosemary. Our gazes met and she beamed me a million dollar smile as she clapped, Catherine sitting beside her, laughing and clapping excitedly, in response to the crowd.
"I have permission to launch the missiles at that target over there." The crowd turned to look where I was pointing. "You may want to cover your ears"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Catherine duck down, hands over ears, face screwed up in anticipation. I couldn't help but smile.
The missiles streamed from the launcher, one after the other and sailed over to the target. I frowned. I'd counted seven. There should be eight. The crowd were all watching the missiles approaching the target and seemed not to have noticed. The arms uncurled and began loading the launcher up again. I had watched them load eight, where was the last one? The left arm was loading the second eighth missile. Without warning the first one erupted from the launcher, slamming into the second. At the same time the missile's jets ignited, the tri-clawed pincer was flipped around, pointing the missile straight at me. I had no time to react. The impact instantly knocked me out - my vision plunged into darkness. . .
Kingdom Hospital
"Well he be all right?" I asked.
"We don't hold out much hope for him, Dr. Cortex," the doctor told me, honestly.
Norman was in a sort of coma. Officially, they said, he was as good as dead. The only things keeping him alive were the machines they'd hooked him up to. The tube fed into his lungs through his mouth supplied him with oxygen. It hissed everytime the, for lack of better words, bellows or balloon inflated, effectively breathing for him. Wires lead from another machine that sent jolts of electricity into his heart, keeping it beating. Wires leading to machines that monitored his heartbeat. Metal encased the right half of his head and his right eye was replaced with a cybernetic one. I was also told, I'm not too clear on this, but a part of his brain that sent messages to his larynx had taken irreperable damage disabling his ability to speak. So they had inserted cybernetic wires that would do the job and had replaced his larynx with cybernetic one. This seemed a little excessive to me, but then, I'm a scientist, not a doctor. All in all, he was a mess. And had next to nil chance of surviving.
Catherine was staying with a sister of her mother's. Rosemary had taken an unexpected bad turn and had collapsed. The doctors didn't predict a bright future for her either. Poor Cotton.
Cortex Castle
"Ahah! here it is." I knew it. I knew I'd stored away plans for a life support system. I'd worked on it with Nitrus Brio (my brow furrowed at the thought of that name). I now held the plans infront of me and poured over them, trying to figure out a way of converting it so it could be applied to a missile. I ignored the little smiley face in the top righthand corner, no doubt courtesy of Nitrus' son, Alex.
I knew I was working against time - the longer I took, the less chance Norman had of surviving.
Kingdom Hospital
Bleeping. That's the first thing I was aware of. Then a dull ache in the right side of my head made itself known. I slowly opened my eyes. There's a slight difference in my right eye. The vision is somehow sharper, clearer.
"Norman"
Neo? What's he doing here? I try to respond but all that comes out is an incomprehendable groan. What's wrong with my voice?
"Norman. Try not to move"
". . . Mmm. . ." What's wrong with me? Why can't I speak. ". . . Mmmaa. . . wha. . . what. . . happen. . . ?" Whoa, that's not my voice.
"The cybernetic voice box (Cybernetic? What would I need a cybernetic voice box?) is still adjusting to your nerve impulses. Keep trying"
". . . What happened. . . to me. . . why. . . why. . ." I stopped and tried again. "Why am . . . I here"
"There was a problem with your missile launcher. There was a delay launching the final missile. The computer didn't detect it and tried to load it." He paused.
"And"
"Well the first one launched and it knocked the second one towards you. . "
My eyes widened in horror as the memories come flooding back to me. "I. . . no. . . no. . ." Oh God, this had to be a really bad dream.
"I'm sorry. Norman, they couldn't remove the missile. I modified it to act as a live support system. It's also hooked up to the part of your brain that handles emotions. If you get angry, the missile will activate causing severe headaches. It you get too angry"
"It will blow up, ripping my head apart. . . and killing me and anyone close enough, instantly"
He cringed. "Putting it brutally frankly, yes"
"Why did you do this"
"They didn't give you much of chance. I had to do something to save you"
"Saved me to become this"
Neo didn't respond. Then. "What about your daughter. What about Catherine"
"Catherine. . ." I repeated. "Rosemary"
Neo grimaced and looked away.
"Neo"
"She took a bad turn. The doctors don't give her much hope"
"They didn't give me much hope"
He just looked at me and shook his head.
I looked up at the ceiling. "What happens to me now"
Silence. "I. . . have a proposition for you"
"Mmm"
"I want you to work for me. I could use your help"
"They said you'd gone mad"
Neo blinked at the sudden change of direction. "What"
"They said you'd gone mad"
He was on his feet, outraged. "I have NOT gone mad! They were perfect reasonable theories. THEY are the ones who are mad here, not me!" He regained his composure, cleared his throat and sat down. "Will you help me or not"
"Help you with what"
He smiled. "I shall explain everything. In good time"
Power: Cortex's opinion of the replacement of his larynx/voice box being excessive is my opinion too. Jeez, the missile went for the head, not the jugular.
You may have noticed some similarities between this fic and the Octavius' Demonstration in Spider-Man 2. Why? Because in my view, movie Octavius/Ock and N. Gin actually parallel quite well.
As I said before, I half-own Catherine and Rosemary. I officially attribute Catherine Gin as Turquoise Phoenix's fancharacter, but I was kind of borrowing her name. Years before, I toyed with idea that the N. Team could have children - Brio, a son and N. Gin and Cortex, daughters (jeez, was I predicting Nina?) But I didn't dare develop them because I could pretty much guess other people's reactions. It was thanks to TP, that I had the courage to develop Alexander. Thus I am incorporating my undeveloped and un-named fancharacter and TP's Catherine Gin into this Cath.
As for Rosemary. I don't know the name of TP's Cath's mother, I thought it could be Rosemary, but I used the name primarily to parallel with Spider-Man 2 as naming her Rosalie would be a blatent rip-off.
I guess I wrote this fic as a "this could've happened" and it is possible to write it without Cath or Rose. This is also kind of a fic for TP (who wants more N. Team based fics) and RG (who likes N. Gin). Oh and I can't forget DSI, who also likes him .
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this. This is my version of what happened, slightly influenced by RG and NeoRammy/NeoYi and including the nearest I could get to the fact that someone being hit by a missile, should pretty much die an instant death, thus I wrote the hospital and waking up scenes accordingly. The American TV series ER helped too .
Oh. I forgot to mention. I borrowed the name Kingdom Hospital from the rocking American TV series of the same name. But it has absolutely no other relation to it.