Authors notes: This is somewhat of a slower chapter after all the chaos of the past two chapters. It may not be my best and I apologize if anyone is disappointed after the long wait. The truth is I've not been feeling very well lately. Anybody who has ever had to come off of an SSRI will know exactly what I'm talking about. I will be well soon and promise that the next chapter will come a little quicker. Thank you for reading.
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Dr. Vilhelm Voigt, more commonly known as Doktor or the Dok by those closest to him, was a man of many talents. They were not only varied but he was known as the head of his field in quiet a few of them. Designing and constructing advanced cybernetics, both combat and civilian, an advanced knowledge of the various systems of the human body, and as of late a growing proficiency in childhood development and psychology.
These were just some of the many feathers in his cap and he would gladly list and detail them all to any willing audience. But even as a man with all of his knowledge and talents he was still limited by being only merely human.
In the labs he kept at his little orphanage/staffing firm, the Doktor scrolled through his list of supplies on his hand held computer. The materials here for cybernetic construction were nowhere near as abundant as that of Maverick. They were also distinctly not for combat cyborgs but rather for civilians. Despite the peaceful application of the cybernetics they were by no means common model parts. There was far too much potential for experimentation to be had here for just any components.
There had been some debate but given the circumstances the Doktor judged that the components here would be far more beneficial to Raiden than the military grade standard. Or they would be if only the Doktor could get his tired mind to focus on the task at hand to gather them all.
This past week had the Doktor feeling his human limitations now more than ever. He was uncomfortably reminded day after day that he was not a young man anymore. Endless hours in front of computer screens made his eyes blur and burn far faster than they used to. His shoulders drooped a little more than his pride was comfortable with. Previously he would have had little issue with multiple high priority cases over a week solid. The aftermath was always hell, yes, but having to assign an assistant to watch over such a vital project over nights was something he never had to do before.
He was loath to admit it, but time was catching up with him. And time waits for no man.
The Doktor, upon first receiving the news that Maverick had been hired to rescue his former patient by the man's wife no less, had been shocked at the news. Shame had followed quickly after it. Although his appalled reaction in regards to Raiden's state after his captivity had been apparent for all to see, his shame he kept private and it had been weighing upon him ever since.
Doktor was a man proud of his work. Proud and possessive. During his vigilante stint, Raiden had privately hired him regularly for repairs and general maintenance and care. Doktor had even gone through great pains of packing the medical supplies that the man would need for long stints away and the instructions on how to use them. Then one day those visits had stopped altogether. Behaving more like a jilted lover than a professional, the Doktor concluded that if Raiden wanted to go to others for his health and maintenance then that was on him that he chose to settle for less.
But no matter how jealous he felt, Doktor could not help but fret about the man sometimes. Was he getting adequate nutrition? Were the connections all functioning properly? Was he being mindful about wear and tear not to mention environmental erosion? Then the Doktor would remember that his services had been spurned and pettily decided that such issues was for Raiden's new physician to take care of. The thought of some other cybernetic engineer getting their hands on his designs had made his teeth itch. His pettiness and jealously came back to mock him once the truth of the matter had been revealed.
The Doktor had been intensely insistent on joining the retrieval mission to properly tend to whatever damage Raiden might have incurred (and ease his conscience somewhat). Constraints on transport times had killed that idea immediately as he had been in a conference and would not be able to return to join in the small time window. Some of that anger and worry had been soothed by the fact that Sunny Emmerich was to be joining on the mission in his stead. It had been a rather frantic trip to the airport while he walked her through everything that she would need to take from his lab on the trip. No doubt that his driver thought him rather mad, not that he was in a state of mind to heed such things.
After that it had been an agonizing wait until he received word of the retrieval mission. The Doktor had liked none of the grim news that had been delivered. At least Sunny had followed his instructions perfectly. The life support system had been applied securely and she had even managed to prevent too much contact and jarring of the brain stem connections even though her arms had to have been exhausted during that long transport. Time mocked the Doktor as he could do nothing but wait and prepare for their arrival.
It seemed from the moment that he had laid eyes on his friend and former patient cradled in the young woman's arms that time had truly begun its campaign against him. Nor had it had been on Raiden's side apparently. Immediately he had taken the two of them down to the labs, his patient and the lady that held him with such care. Boris and that delightful AI that now called itself Bladewolf followed along behind them.
Boris had assured him that the equipment seized from the raid would be thoroughly examined by the intelligence department. Any cyborg without specialized medical treatment was a dead one, especially one as delicate as Raiden. Monitoring of his vitals would have to be constant and thus traceable and Maverick was already working on it.
The bastards had known enough to keep him alive, that much is certain, but their idea of medical care left much to be desired. The thoughts of his former pettiness about being 'shunned' haunted the Doktor as he had hooked the poor man to a more stable system than the hand held life support and began looking Raiden over.
Reflecting back on his behavior after that first initial examination...well Doktor was embarrassed though not entirely regretful for his outbursts. Through his anger at the poor maintenance and supplementation, the distressingly erratic brainwaves, not to mention the blatant cruelty in the disabling of two primary senses, one thing stood out abundantly clear to the Doktor: whoever had done this was not of his field.
There were many clues that the Doktor gleaned even as he alternated setting up care for Raiden and throwing nonessential equipment in his rage. It was contradictory. The cruelty of who reduced his patient to this state was, so to speak, evident on on his face. Yet the lack of proper care, considering the circumstances of that basement, seemed to have been done out of ignorance rather than maliciousness.
Hygiene had been applied regularly judging from Raiden's relatively clean, if dusty state. The connectors at the brain stem port lacked that distinct discoloration that the proper salve would have left. But some sort of cleaning had obviously been applied or else infection would have set in already, particularly in the open orbital area. The last of his assistants had fled the lab when the Doktor had found traces of rust forming near the rims of the vascular tubes, easy to miss amidst the red if one was not looking for it. Surgery to remove and replace these defects was the only option to fix such lapses in care. Not to mention the dysfunctional implants that needed to be exchanged.
If the Doktor had to guess, he would have supposed that this was not the work of a mere civilian. One could not keep a full body cyborg alive for such a long time with only the basic knowledge of their care after all. They had done their homework, that much was for certain, but knowledge did not equal experience. All the signs were there that this person knew how to keep Raiden alive, how to set up and monitor such a complex system, but was not aware that he was not going to be alive for much longer.
Amateurish. Very amateurish. Doktor had to be grateful in regards to time that Boris had managed to rescue their friend before a major infection could have set up and ended Raiden's existence here on this earth prematurely. Vital ports and connections exposed like that to the air were no laughing matter. The Doktor had a fleeting moment of fear that one such infection had already set in and was the culprit for the catatonic state. Scans and blood work came back and thankfully alleviated that worry. Physically, other than the injury, the worst Raiden suffered was malnutrition.
Neurologically and psychologically was a whole other beast to fight. Surgery to repair the rusted ports and see what was causing his implants to malfunction would have to be postponed. He might have been stable right then, but something as traumatic as brain surgery might tip whatever delicate balance being held.
'Held might be the wrong word,' Doktor had mused as he worked those first few hours while Boris stood stoically in the background and Sunny quietly fretted beside of him. 'More like a very prolonged descent.' Any day and infection could have took hold underneath the flimsily wrapped cloth or the tubes circulating blood could have been eaten through by rust and life would have spilled out. Once again, the Doktor had sent out a small prayer of thanks to whoever was listening that Raiden had been recovered in time.
The neurological atrophy was the disheartening, yet unsurprising result from the scans. Not uncommon actually in victims of sensory deprivation. Fortunately science had come a long ways from the days of the past and treatment was possible and in a much smaller time frame than would be naturally possible. Nano machines injected directly into the brain to repair damage was becoming the golden standard for neurological issues. Boris had given him free reign and an incredibly generous budget, and so with only a single assistant left and her robot, the Doktor had got to work.
Doktor's first trial was estimating how long it would take him to get the treatment course programmed properly into the system. The computers at Maverick were set up for individuals with healthy conscious minds, not unresponsive torture victims. Getting everything set up to monitor and maintain the current treatment process that he had Raiden on for the neural degeneration had been tricky. Proper nutrition, nanos to repair atrophied nerves, stimulation to the under active parts of the brain. It was a very very delicate dance. Too slowly in the restoration efforts and the catatonic state would not budge, too quickly and the risk of seizure activity was present.
But the Doktor was not considered one of the heads of his field for nothing, and while he would have preferred to have done it all himself, this was far too large of a workload for one man. Luckily for him, he was not alone in his endeavors. The Doktor knew the girl was a genius, but even he was stunned at Sunny's aptitude with this kind of work.
Sunny programmed as easily as she breathed and the Doktor was not too proud to admit that she was better at this than he was. Once all this was said and done, he had wondered if he could convert her away from engineering and aeronautics over to the grand field of cybernetics. She would certainly be someone he would feel secure in having his conversion done by.
Even with their combined skill it was a tricky process. There were several times that they over corrected, but thankfully they were quickly able to resolve the issue without damage being done. The complications arose whenever Raiden would fall into a (albeit erratic) sleep cycle and then surface to a...well the Doktor would not call it aware but it was more of a waking state.
Regrettably no matter how much he tried, Doktor could not get the younger man to respond to him and it was a blow to the heart to see him like this. After many days of adjusting the steps and balancing the worst seemed to be finally over and the systems could maintain their care without them hovering every step of the way.
As soon as Raiden's recovery had been placed on a stable course Boris all but banished Sunny from the labs, commanding her to rest. It was a testament to how exhausted the devoted teen was when she did not protest. She did not go up to the more comfortable living quarters, but instead found the nearest bed in the recovery rooms and slept instantly with her ever watchful lupine guardian by her side.
Feeling his age and his limitations, the Doktor summoned his scattered assistants back to the lab to work on the projects that had been neglected. After assigning the least vital individual of his crew to observational duty overnight, Doktor followed Sunny's lead, although he chose one of Mavericks sleeping rooms instead.
After a blissful and unfortunately too short a time period of sleep, the Doktor had once again returned his patient. Not to mention his other obligations. Time sensitive projects that had been pushed back were now demanding his attention with a vengeance. Sunny watched over Raiden during the day while the Doktor and his team rushed to make up for lost time and Aaron supervised at night.
Several times over those frantic days did the Doktor spot a boy hovering around the periphery of the labs. Judging from his appearance and the warning Boris had given him that the child now knew, the boy had to be none other than John. He had initially tried to wave the child over to explain things, his fathers prognosis, perhaps offer whatever comforting words that he could, but the teenager never made it past several steps into the lab before becoming overwhelmed with the environment and fleeing. The Doktor honestly could not blame him and perhaps felt a little bit of shameful relief with avoiding the conversation.
After several days of treatment, Raiden's condition remarkably improved to the point where he would potentially wake soon. After some deliberating back and forth the Doktor and Sunny came to a decision. Instead of continuing the helplessness and sensory deprivation, they decided it would be far kinder to place the man in a VR simulation for when he truly did wake. Not only would it help to bring him to awareness, it would allow for easier communication.
There had been several false starts over the previous days. Semi-waking that had resulted in the poor man becoming so overwhelmed that he needed to be sedated for his own good. It was an odd mix of a hopeful and concerning. None of these events compared to what had transpired when the Doktor had received that frantic phone call from the newest staffing addition to the labs.
The scene was chaotic. Aaron was far out of his depth and convinced that he was to be fired. Raiden was completely unresponsive, no doubt in the throes of a flashback. Sunny and Bladewolf had been drawn by the commotion and the young lady had been very distressed by the events unfolding. Somehow even Boris had received word that his former agent had woke and joined the frantic scene in the labs.
Thankfully, and were not AI's the most amazing of beings, Bladewolf had managed to diffuse the situation and bring Raiden back to his senses. The request to be disconnected from the VR was a bit of a surprise but in retrospect should have been expected. It was a crude system that he managed to throw together, but the Doktor did not want to waste time on setting up something more complex for communication that would take away time from a proper body being constructed for the man.
Video and audio feed processed through one of the lab computers allowed Raiden to see and hear the world around him. Also using the computer as a medium, he could also speak with others. The Doktor had apologized for the rather rushed job, but Raiden had quietly expressed gratitude all the same. No doubt the visual and auditory quality was poor but that may have proved a blessing in disguise as too much sensory input was apparently distressing to the man.
So as to avoid overwhelming him, everyone but Sunny and Bladewolf left the labs. The Doktor could hear Sunny quietly talking away about seemingly unimportant things, the constant stream of words and physical reassurance seemed to be the right course of action as Raiden calmed and his vitals leveled out. Reassured that he was safe and in good hands, the exhausted man quickly slipped back to sleep. As soon as he had fallen back under, the Doktor had swept from the labs with Boris right behind him.
"I must go to my other labs to collect the appropriate parts to immediately begin construction." The Doktor had informed him even as he typed up orders for his assistants to work on during his absence. And to the assistant that still fretted nearby. "You may go home now Aaron...no you are not fired. Yes...Back to your regular duties. Off with you now."
"But why? We have more than enough equipment here." Boris asked watching the relived youngster scurry away. The lines on the Russian's face were more pronounced, still unsettled from the events of earlier.
"We have the supplies for combat cyborgs but I am not making him into a weapon right now. I am trying to help the man recover. I will use the techniques that I used for the children to aid in said recovery. Raiden will have enough time later to commission a body of his choice, but it is not wise right now."
Boris had rubbed the tension out of his forehead but did not voice his question. The Doktor answered it anyway.
"Should he have more flashbacks it would be best that he was in a civilian body for the moment rather than something military grade."
"Yes, yes. I see your point." The head of the agency agreed, looking as exhausted as the Doktor felt. "How long do you think you will be gone. Also how much will you require?"
"Require?" The Doktor had paused in his written instructions. "No. I require no funding. I will pay for this myself. It will be my own way to make amends."
Boris did not question the Doktor's need to make amends. Judging from the rueful expression on the other man's face, Doktor supposed that Boris had his own guilt weighing upon his soul. The man left without receiving an answer to his other question, no doubt going to ruminate even while he tried to lead the company in that familiar upbeat manner he projected to the employees.
After ensuring that the delightfully brilliant Sunny was able to handle things with Raiden temporarily, the Doktor had roughly estimated that he would be able to fly to his custom labs, gather everything he needed to craft a new body, and be back to Maverick headquarters within the day. He had been...overly optimistic about his timeline.
Inclement weather had been his greatest hindrance in the time department. A summer storm had delayed his flight by several hours. Thankfully they had not entirely been unproductive hours as he had pulled up Raiden's old civilian designs and began the necessary alterations to the plans for the improvements that would aid in the man's recovery.
The next problem arose when he finally arrived at his personal 'project' lab, as was jokingly referred to by his coworkers at Maverick. He had hoped to come in during the earlier hours of the morning, gather what he needed and slip away before any of them knew he was there. Due to his arrival right at lunch time they had all already been awake and milling about. The halls were brightly colored and covered ceiling to floor in art projects. His progress to the labs had been delayed as he had been spotted as he tried to slink past the lunch room.
"Yayo Doktor!" The cry went up from a dozen or so of the children as soon as he had slipped through the doors. Soon he was inundated by the excited chatter of a hoard of teenagers and preteens. Updates on their classes, Andre crowing about he finally got a girlfriend, some of the older children fretting about consent forms from the latest work projects and scholarship applications. It was marvelous madness.
Several of the younger children wrapped their arms around Doktor's midsection and would not be pried loose from expressing their affection. The Doktor patted them on the head and heeded their chatter until they thankfully released him. That was another thing he had learned while working side by side with the social workers and others to raise all these children: the young were very very touchy.
Doktor tried to take it all in stride, tactile affection was necessary for the development of children, and he was a grandfatherly figure to them. All the same though, he would be glad when they outgrew the stage to constantly want to touch him as he was a man not accustomed to casual physical contact. He regrettably never had a chance to have children of his own. Somedays he did not know whether to curse Raiden for dropping all these children on him and disappearing or to bless him for it.
It was all overwhelming. But in a delightful way. It was a kindness to his soul to see so much joy and life after days upon days in that tense and sometimes hopeless lab. What would they think, he had wondered, if they knew he were trying to save the very man that had saved them? Perhaps he could encourage the writings of get well cards once the savior in question became more stable.
"I had every confidence in your ability to pass your testing...Andre we have discussed this already. Ask me once you turn eighteen...verdammt the forms yes. I will get those before I have to leave again...Yes again..."
"Doctor Voigt." A voice calmly but sternly stated. The Doktor sighed and extracted himself from the rather tight grip of one of his younger children (autsch, he needed to readjust their strength inhibitors). Doktor had been ready to pull out what little remained of his hair at that point. He had hoped that he could manage to make it past the youthful clutches of the children and into his labs before the overseer of his passion project had caught him. It seemed that he had mistimed this endeavor badly.
"Yes Ms. Diaz, what can I do for you this day?" The Doktor had wearily asked turning to the middle aged woman in question. The children wisely began making themselves scarce. Ms. Diaz was a short weathered old battle axe that could stare down a misbehaving child into submission even if said child was capable of picking up a car. She stared him down over her glasses, clipboard in hand, with the same intensity as she would any of the rebellious teenagers.
"I know you said that you had an emergency patient with the Maverick company and I respect your work. Having said that, a solid week with no correspondence, not even a text, makes me question your commitment here." Her expression as tight as the bun that held her greying hair.
"You know as well as I how committed I am to this project." the Doktor had responded tersely. "This was no ordinary case and required twenty four seven care. In fact, I will need to return soon after gathering custom components...paid for by my own funds of course."
The woman was completely unimpressed. Instead she just flipped through a few pages on her clipboard and tapped a printed page with the tip of her pin. Damn his eyes that he could not make it out immediately.
"Do you happen to know what day it is Doktor?"
"Why yes I do. Its...schisse, the permit renewal forms!"
"Yes. Those." She said dryly. "Before you leave again please come to my office to fill those out. If you have the time for it." Letting him off the hook for now, Ms. Diaz had walked off to tend to the rest of the orphanage and staffing firms day to day business. She was efficient and kept the place running and juggled the social workers and the numerous other flaming hoops made of red tape required to keep this place running, but sometimes talking to her reminded him of being scolded by his dearly departed grandmother.
"You are leaving again?" One of the braver children that had lingered asked him.
"Ja. Once I gather what I need and complete the paperwork." And would that not take time that he could not afford. At this rate he would not get back to Maverick until well after nightfall, not to mention the construction process. Perhaps he could bribe one of the children into fetching a coffee for him.
"But why? You just got back." Big brown synthetic eyes looked up at him and the Doktor had been struck by how natural and expressive the technology could be. The child was dressed in a simple outfit promoting some sports team that the Doktor had surely never heard of and sandals. Seams in the plating were visible across the arms and legs. And the child's face, while holding that air of unnaturalness, still somehow conveyed sincere innocent emotion despite being synthetic rather than flesh. Not a bar code or logo was to be found anywhere on the child. Or any of them for that matter.
As the Doktor had learned from caring for the children, having your body 'owned' by someone was extremely detrimental to the psyche. As such the Doktor had made more of an effort to design the bar codes to be placed in internal, yet easily accessible spaces. No need to constantly remind them of their condition. He also had stopped referring to the cybernetics as something purely mechanical but as their own bodies which, while technically his property, was under their own free will.
While the adults that came to him for military and PMC upgrades had willfully signed away their bodily autonomy, the children had no choice in their circumstances and so should not be held to the same standards. Raiden had also had little choice in his conversion, so the Doktor had planned to extend that same consideration of autonomy to his former patient despite his possessiveness over his work. That is, if he could ever get back to him.
The Doktor had smiled and had ruffled the lifelike hair of the young one.
"I will not be gone forever. Besides, this patient that I am now helping is a very special one, in fact, everyone here knows him. Perhaps I can bring him here once he has recovered. That would be interesting, yes? Until then, I wonder if you and some of the others would like to make some get well cards?"
"Who is is?" The little one had asked in eager curiosity. "Who is it? Who is it? Who is it?" Damn, Doktor figured being one of their more artistic residents that the little scamp would run off and get started without questioning further.
"Now I cannot exactly say right now. See, he is still not feeling very well..."
"Please?" The child had looked up at him expectantly for several moments before striking at a weakness that the Doktor never realized that he had before starting this project. Big soulful eyes looked up at him and there was a slight quiver to that bottom lip (once again the Doktor was struck by how lifelike he had managed the craftsmanship). Doktor sighed and folded. Once the puppy eyes were brought out he knew he was done and he did not have the time or presence of mind to come up with an alternative story.
"Alright, alright. Remember before you and all the others came here?"
"The bad place, ya." The child had nodded, memories of the brief 'training' stint unfolding behind their eyes. Doktor had felt sorrowful for bringing up such memories, but there was little point in taking back his words now. He had hugged the child to his side to offer some comfort.
"Well, I am now helping the person who rescued you from the bad place."
"The ninja?!" And was that not a complete turn around in mood. The troubled expression had turned to undiluted joy.
"Ja, ja. Him. He is a cyborg too and needs me to make him a new body, like all of you." The Doktor did not expect the child to squirm out of his hug and begin pushing at him.
"Go, go! He needs fixed, not talking. You go make him a body. I will get started on the cards. I also tell everybody to make some as well, sí!"
"Wait..." But it was far too late to protest. The Doktor was given one last little push in the direction of his labs and then the child was off running, calling for his brothers to tell them the news.
Once the older man had been free from the irresistible pleading eyes of the child, he wondered if what he had said was the wisest thing to do. The one who was responsible for Raiden's state was still at large and Doktor was unsure about the level of security this case was under.
Too tired to fight it, the Doktor decided that he would deal with the fallout of his slip up with Boris later. Without another moments delay, the Doktor finally made his way to his lab and began the tedious process of gathering up all he needed.
He had not been long with his work and contemplation before he was interrupted once more.
"Aye Dok." A youthful voice called out from across the lab drawing Doktor's attention from his computer and his thoughts of the past week. Doktor shut his eyes wearily at yet another distraction, despite how fond he was of said distraction. He simply did not have the time and focus for this now.
George bounded into the labs with all the swagger and bounce that an excited sixteen year old could muster. The dark skin on his forehead and about his neck was still slightly damp with sweat from his daily exercises. The boy was respectful enough of the equipment and the Doktor's work to not bring the outside in with him. No doubt the older man's temporary peace to work had only been granted because George had to change into a clean pair of jeans and a black sleeveless tee before he barged into the labs like he owned them.
The springy youth dodged the equipment and the service bots shuttling the ordered components to the loading dock with well practiced ease. And judging from the bright and excited look on the boy's face word had gotten around quickly.
"Hello dear boy." The Doktor said with faux brightness. He had an inkling of the conversation to come and he was loathe to be disrupted from his work now that he had actually made it to his labs and was sorting delicate equipment.
George reached him and failed to hide the little smirk that inevitably blossomed forth whenever they stood near one another. George's latest round of cybernetics left him standing a few inches taller than himself and the teen was inordinately pleased at being the taller one. Doktor had known that children experienced rapid growth during their teen years what he had not anticipated was the children with partials growing like damn weeds and forcing him to get creative with sources of income.
The Doktor had gathered more experience in keeping the members of his cybernetic orphanage maintained than he had with all the grown men and women coming to him for his work. Had it not been for the markedly increased number of patents he had developed by working with his children and the jobs of the older teens keeping them funded, he and the lot of them would have been put out on the streets by now.
"So Dok, I is hearing some interesting rumors going around since you got back ya." George tried for a casual tone even as he sidled up beside him and tried to peer down at the little hand held computer.
"I would imagine so. Although truth be told I should not have said anything." The Doktor reflected even as he continued to select components. The systems about them continued to whir along as commanded, oblivious to the mounting excitement of the teenager.
"So is it true?" George finally quit being coy and bluntly asked. "You is doing a job for him?"
"Yes. It is true." The Doktor sighed and braced himself for what was to come.
As predicted, George sprung to life. The boy was practically hopping up and down in his excitement.
"He finally showed up again! Where is he been? Where he been gone to all this time? He no call, no write. I been worried to death about him. I uh...I really missed him ya know? Well? What's he need done? I'm helping." George declared as he reached over.
"Hey!" Doktor protested as the impetuous youth plucked the computer out of his hands and danced away while scrolling though the components.
"Ooooh, you is breaking out all the good stuff." The boy said pointing at the new and improved synthetic skin that the Dok had developed amidst the long list of other parts. The joyful look faded as George kept scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. "Dis...dis is a lotta parts needed. Looks full body. He went too hard and banged up himself again?" George shot him a concerned look before backing out of the current screen and selecting Raiden's schematics.
"Young man!" The Doktor scolded while snatching the electronic device back. "What have I taught you about privacy and confidentiality? If Raiden wants to show you his schematics then that is for him to choose. You, however, do not have the right to invade his privacy like that. Is this what your instructors have been teaching you in your EMT classes?"
"No sir." And just like that the rambunctious teenager once again acted like the shy eleven year old that was not certain if he was allowed permission to eat his own food or not. George stepped back, eyes downcast, and rubbed at his shoulder where the junction of flesh and metal was.
Doktor sighed as he pulled up the appropriate screen once more. It was a testament to how exhausted he was that he lashed out before thinking. George was, contradictory enough, somewhat of a more difficult case than the other children, and oddly sensitive about rejection.
He had been with the Doktor the longest although it was not for lack of options. Despite their status as cyborgs, a fair number of the children had surprisingly been adopted out to well-to-do homes. At first Doktor was positive that George, having a human visage, would be amongst the first to find a home but it had not been so, but not for lack of interested parties. Several families had been interested, including one pleasant couple that had been charmed by him when he had temporarily worked for Solis. The child had simply not been interested in the family and soon quit working with the company.
To the Doktor's surprise instead of continuing along with the manual labor that he had seemed contented to do, George had expressed a blooming interest in the medical field. It started simply at first. A helping hand for the Doktor with the other children and then on to his adult conversion patients. How to properly monitor and tend to wounds, the appropriate ways to lift a fallen patient without hurting either party, and everything else the boy could glean from constantly hanging around the labs.
Prideful of his own field, the Doktor had encouraged all of this. Part of his speculation for the use of cyborg workers was for nursing home care and the like after all and it seemed as if one of his charges was headed that route. The child surprised him again by being more ambitious than being satisfied with just elder care.
"I want to be able to help others, ya know, be just like him. I may not be able to fight an don't want to kill, but there are plenty of other ways to help out. What about after fighting is over? Who gonna help then? Me!"
While it was of his professional opinion that the boy did not quiet have the intellectual aptitude to have a doctorate, his enthusiasm for emergency medical services was commendable and the older man encouraged it every step of the way. George still had a long way to go but he had shown knack for out of box solutions, no doubt due to surviving in environment where one had to make do with what you had. George had also expressed a desire to specialize in cyborg care (which had delighted the old scientist to no end) and had cheekily called it 'self interest.'
Nowadays more often than not, Doktor had George working along side him with the surgeries, constructions, and clients. It was beneficial to the old man to have a helping hand that was not an assistant vying for his respect, and George received plenty of experience in return.
The Doktor looked up at the chastised boy and felt a twinge of remorse. He should have realized that combined with George's hero worship and Raiden's return that the boy would be overly enthusiastic to the point of impulsiveness to get to work with, and on, the person who was responsible for saving the child's life. The transgression had been from eagerness rather than lack of respect.
"I apologize my dear boy. It has been a very long week." The older man extended the olive branch. "I did not mean to snap at you. Things have been very stressful and I am very tired."
"Stressful?" The boy asked, some of that dejected look leaving his eyes. The fact that it was replaced with timid curiosity was not an improvement.
"I do not know if I am allowed to discuss the matter with you." Doktor confessed as he selected the last of what would be required to transport.
The automated system obeyed immediately and the myriad of supplies needed would be placed with the other parts by the machines. There was naught to do now but wait while the process was finished. The older man went to sit down while the computers did their work. He gratefully sank down into the nearest seat with a sigh.
The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Under the worried and pleading gaze of the teenager, the Doktor folded first.
"I know that you are excited to see him again. To even perhaps show off all that you know and help him out instead of the other way around. Normally I would be grateful for such assistance. Your help here in the labs means more to me than you know, but I am worried for you."
"Me?" George sputtered, completely caught off guard. "Why me? What?"
"Raiden is not well right now. He ran into some trouble that he could not fight his way out of and...well...he is improving. But he is still not well."
"He's hurt bad...isn't he?"
The Doktor sighed before responding. "I have my doubts about you coming along because I know how much you care for him, but..."
"I'm coming." George said with no room for compromise. An uncharacteristically severe look on his features.
"...but," The Doktor continued, staving off the argument before it could start. "I think that you being there helping me will do him a lot of good. He needs friends now. Boris will probably kill me, but I am far too tired to care right now."
"...What happened to him?" The hesitant voice did not sit right coming from the normally exuberant teenager and it made the old man's heart wrench hearing it.
"I will explain all on our flight over. We have much work ahead of us, you and I. And I do not simply mean with a full body reconstruction either."
George nodded, chewing on a lip and eyes downcast. "I will go pack and call my instructors and teachers. How long I tell them I be gone for? Will Ms. Diaz even let me go?"
"As for how long, I am not sure my boy. I am not sure. Plan for an extended stay. I will help you study for your exams and I will call the company myself should they give you problems about your absence. Do not worry about Ms. Diaz, I will manage her. You will get to come."
George didn't, or couldn't, reply. He gave a curt nod and quickly turned away, ducking his head. His walk out of the lab was the polar opposite of how the boy had entered and the old scientist had second thoughts about telling him and hurting his spirits.
Doktor stared at the closed door long after the teenager had left. The old man sat alone and lost in his thoughts while the machines around him toiled and whirred, unnoticed and unheeded. Thoughts of schematics, neurology, and other things he could fix rolled through his mind. It was the things that he could not cure with science that weighed heavily on his heart. He had to be satisfied that steps were already being made in the right direction. Not only that, he was not the only one set to this task. Raiden had more people on his side than he realized, but only time would tell how things would turn out.
Only time.
.
Additional note: I am no expert on languages, I just enjoy dabbling in many of them. Blame the google if there are errors lol.
German:
Autsch- ouch
schisse- shit
verdammt- dammit
Spanish:
Yayo- a nickname for a grandfather (i.e. pawpaw, gran pappy, etc.)