French.
Every book was written in French. Not English, not Spanish, not even Latin. French.
Murphy had to groan. When he failed that infamous second language class back in high school, his friends had all snickered and said, "You're going to regret this one day!"
Murphy never knew how much he was going regret it. He always thought worst case scenario, he would make a complete ass of himself in Europe. Never once in his wildest dreams- or nightmares- did he ever consider the language as a barrier between life and death.
Poetic irony. He hated English class too.
But what exactly did this mean? Was he in France? In Europe? He had no evidence whatsoever prove he was. Nor did he have any to deny. All he had was the remains of his shattered memory to tell him. He was shut off in Detroit, the United States of America. That was all he had to go on. Without the evidence of plant life or animal, he had no idea where in the world he was.
Murphy bit his lip as he placed back another book he couldn't read into the shelf. He pulled out another book, hoping in vain his random choosing would get him what he needed. He wasn't even sure what he needed.
"Why are you a cyborg?"
Murphy looked at the one arm girl. Red was sitting on one of the overly large uncomfortable wooden chairs, flipping through a large book on tarantulas. She had already torn out a few pictures of the hairy little monsters. "I was in an accident," He told her, sparing her the gruesome details.
"What kind?"
He smirked. Apparently the word 'tact' does not exist in the future. "A bad one."
"Oh. Is that why you haven't shown me your face?"
Murphy wanted to steer the conversation away from himself. What he almost did last night still hung in the air. Through his self-loathing and rage he could've gotten the both of them killed. He didn't want her bringing up old wounds. He nodded.
Red frowned and went back to her erratic flipping. Her head down she said, "I don't care what you look like Murphy."
The cyborg pulled out another book from another shelf. It was an algebra book. "Then why do you want to see me?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's because seeing your actual face will make you seem more…human?"
He nearly flinched at that. It wasn't just the familiar words that haunted him; he didn't realize that with his helmet on he was making her uncomfortable. Red had given him her complete trust the moment they met and he didn't want to lose that. Not in this world. Not in this time. He couldn't afford to lose that. "It's not a pretty sight."
Red cupped her stump. "I've seen worse."
Murphy didn't doubt this. "I will need a drill-"
The girl didn't hesitate. She got up from the table, leaving her precious torn pages behind and scurried up the stairs.
Murphy sighed and placed another book he cannot read back on the shelf. He should find a language book and brush up on his verbs. He just hoped he didn't forget everything from his fifteen year absence from high school.
Red came back, not with a drill but with a screwdriver. She pulled up a chair next to him and climbed on it, coming level with his head. Although she had not asked him if she could take the screws out, he did not stop her.
He held the driver steady as she turned. The process of taking out the screws was mind-numbingly long but he did not argue. It wasn't like he had anything else to do.
Once they were out, Red hopped off the chair, coming to stand in front of him.
His hand rested over his helmet for a few seconds.
He took the helmet off.
He expected Red to take a step back in fear, in disgust or just plain shock. He expected her to flinch or gasp.
She did none of those things. Instead, she cocked her head, studying his face intently. Murphy, despite himself, squirmed. "Can I…" Red licked her lips. "Can I touch you?"
Why? Was the question. His face was merely there to give a softer look to his robotic counterpart. He could move the flesh, blink, but felt nothing. It was just meat.
"If you want."
Murphy leaned down as Red reached up. Her hand gently prodded his cheeks, touched his nose and ran her hand over his hairless eyebrows. The computer told him his flesh was being touched. Nothing more.
She smiled. "I think you're pretty Murphy," She said.
He almost snorted. Pretty. He thought he looked hideous.
Her eyes traveled from his face to behind him. "Robin!" She exclaimed, running past him.
Murphy turned around just in time to see Red throwing herself at the young man. Murphy saw that the boy was sporting a new black eye and Red hissed when she saw it. Robin brushed off her concerns, his eyes narrowing at her missing arm. When he looked upwards to glare at Murphy, the officer quickly replaced his helmet.
Robin said nothing as he dropped a duffle bag onto the table Murphy sat in front of. "I brought the supplies to replace Red's arm," He said as he unzipped the bag. "Red, I also brought some meat. Here," The young man then pulled out a plastic bag full of brown pieces of cooked meat, giving it to Red. "Eat. Then we'll get started."
Red sat down and began eating with gusto. Robin pulled out mechanical items from the duffle bag, carefully placing them on the table.
"Where did you get the black eye?"
Robin paused at Murphy's question. Something dark flashed in the boy's eyes and Murphy knew he had seen that type of look before. He did not like it. "That's none of your business," Robin finally snapped at him. "Red, come here."
The girl obeyed, plopping herself down to the chair next to Murphy. As she began to take off her shirt, Robin threw the cyborg a dirty glare and shifted the chair so Red's back was to him.
"Try not to break this one Red," Robin leaned over the girl's shoulder, quickly attaching on the metal limn. "This should last you for a few years. I don't have any skin masking, so the metal is going to gleam in the light. Watch out for that."
"I have long sleeve shirts," Red glared at him. "And gloves. You don't need to remind me each time."
"I told you to stay within city limits, but apparently you listened to me then, huh?"
Red flinched at this and they both fell into uncomfortable silence. Quickly, Robin went to work. While Murphy had watched tapes on his own transformation and the often repairs on his own body, he found them to be disgusting and downright disturbing.
But as he watched Robin began the slow delicacies of attaching Red's new arm, he found the whole ordeal morbidly fascinating. While he had no idea what Robin was doing- Murphy himself only knows the fundamentals of his own metallic body- it was clear as day the boy did. With expert ease of someone who has done this numerous times, Robin attached Red's new arm within a few minutes.
"Here comes the neural connection…" Robin said gently as he twisted something within the shoulder.
Red gave a hiss of pain then relaxed, allowing Robin to finish attaching the arm. He attached the three tubes Murphy had-not-so-delicately pulled out and he was done.
Red gave a face of concentration as she tested the movement. Her fingers twitched, followed by the bending of the wrist, then of the elbow, slowly followed with raising it high and bringing it back down. "It's a bit stiff."
"Wait a few days, you'll see a difference."
()
A/N: Rewrote this chapter about fifty billion times. It's not much to look at, I know, but trust me, there was shit jumping off the walls before I got to this point. I hope you enjoyed. R/R peeps.