The willingness to accept her help means more than Nick probably knows. Or maybe he does. Either way, she hates the thought of him suffering, physically or emotionally -- and he does have emotions. So much so that it's almost an affliction when one considers the mechanical nature of their being. But he, like Rey, is what he is; ghosts in smoke and mirrors.
"Thank you." Rey exhales as she pushes out of her seat, more relieved than anything not to making an argument out of this. Before heading to the office where the terminal is set up, she glances to Nick. "Hope you don't mind that we were using it, while she was here." Pause. She bites her lower lip. "She, um... She helped me with some things, you know? I don't know whether or not it was the gods or myself or maybe there was some bit of her that was in that..."
"What, the terminal?" Nick asks, catching her glance. He gives her as reassuring a look as he can muster. He knows the tone that's heavy in her voice. "I'm just glad it's getting use. All it is in my hands is glorified storage."
He means for notes, but in the right hands, it could be more.
"And if she managed to help you figure out some things," he continues, softer, "then that's good enough for me." He might never admit it aloud, but she helped him figure out some things, too -- things that went unsaid far too often between himself and Rey.
A wry smile forms. "Admittedly, it took some getting used to for us both. The interface is very..." Rey makes a circular gesture in the air. "...retro?"
Hard to think that Nick hails from a place so advanced to create sentient machines using operating systems for such old general-purpose computing. But she's not here to critique the old school style of his world's aesthetics.
"She was like that," Rey continues as she seats herself in front of the terminal in the office. Her eyes remain glued to the screen than to Nick himself. "Smart as hell, always wanted to help. Was interning for the project that eventually made me at seventeen. She..."
Her face reddens as she stops herself. She ducks her head, staring down at the keyboard where her hands are.
"Sorry."
Why is she apologizing? Why is she telling him this? Hasn't it hurt him enough without knowing these things?
Chest tightening, Rey goes back to focusing on the words on the screen.
Does talking about it really help? Undine used to think so. Rey isn't so sure, though.
Nick's insistence is firm; this is not her fault. None of it is. He's having a hard enough time reminding himself of that, given how jumbled those flashes of memory seem to be these days. Even as he says that, he can hear someone telling him the same thing, a long dead echo reverberating in the back of his mind.
This isn't your fault, Nick.
He'd been angry at the time, furious to hear those words. He was confused when he'd heard them again in the wastes, before he realized the synth he'd become -- the human he'd never truly been, despite those memories. Now, that reassurance just wears on him. Jenny hadn't been his fault, and in a way, Undine wasn't... but he'd been the one to put the bullet in her. He'd been made an accessory, used like a tool.
His hand is back at his temple as he takes the sitting chair near the bed; he's still trying to shut out the auditory feedback playing in his mind, but it's an old recording he can't quite erase.
He means well; his assurance is even welcome. But guilt still grips its dirty fingers around Rey's heart that she brings such things up at all. Reopens the wounds that are still fresh in both of them.
"Right. Anyway..." She shakes her head, refocusing her attention on the screen in front of her. "We actually managed to figure out how to put together something that'll help me interface with your gear, but I'll need your help."
From a drawer in the desk, Rey extracts a long cord. One end is fashioned to hook up to the hardware itself, but the other end is a needle, half an inch in length, that appears to connect to something else.
Nick takes a look at cord, surprised by how much Undine's ghost managed to help while she was here. Her presence hurt like hell for both of them... but there was good there, too. It's important to remember that.
He takes the needle end, getting a feeling he knows where this is going from what Rey said. Interface, like a machine. "Just tell me what to do."
Whether the help came from Undine or Rey's own memory, the possibility doesn't cross her mind. Can't bring herself to even question it.
She focuses on the reality at present, now that it isn't just Nick's head that's at stake here -- but Rey's, to some extent.
"It needs to go here." She points to the back of her own head. "There's a port in the dura that connects to my brain. I'd do it myself, but the needle is a little bigger than the one my father used, so it's a little tricky."
One of the downsides to improvising with what they have here. That, and the process hurts like hell, but Nick might not like knowing that part.
Though his brow knits with discomfort, he takes a look at the back of Rey's head, trying to figure out where to plug the needle in. Rey might not say it hurts, but he gets the distinct feeling it's going to -- hell, some people would say that's the whole point of them.
After gingerly brushing aside some of her hair, he finds the port; he hesitates. "You sure about this?"
There's a sigh from behind her, one that, without a single word, says Nick doesn't really want to do this, but he doesn't have a choice. Even if he changes his mind, there's not much he can do to change hers.
His fingers tighten on the needle for just a second before he aligns it with the port and pushes it in, making quick work of it, as requested.
She expects the sharp sting searing through her skull before the needle even punctures skin. Rey grits her teeth in attempt to dull her reaction to the pain. Nick doesn't need to know how much it hurts. Undine did, but Rey didn't let that stop her.
"Good news, I'm not brain-fried." Rey forces a curt laugh, bringing a hand to the side of the needle to make sure that it's correctly in place.
Rey might be trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but he can tell this is no picnic for her. No sense in arguing with her now, though. He voices his disapproval with another, stifled sigh as he sits back down. He doesn't yet reach for the wires that hook into him -- he wants to make sure she'll be all right before proceeding. The more he thinks on this idea, the less he likes it.
But hell, that goes for a lot of things lately, his memories included.
Bringing her hand to the terminal keyboard, Rey waits while her brain recognizes the alien software.
"Could be worse. Don't know how the hell Tejinder could do this all the time." She snorts, pointing to her own temple. "That guy has a port right here that shit can just go into. Looks a lot easier."
Less painful, too -- and a lot less conspicuous. Rey wasn't supposed to know what she was for the longest time. Any obvious indicators of synthetic hardware would have easily given that secret away.
Though Nick knows that any insistence of I'm fine from Rey is generally cause for doubt, especially when she has a wire shoved into the back of her skull, there's no going back now. The numbers on the screen move and change as the terminal recognizes her as its user. Looks like she and Undine really did manage to make it work for her. Strange how even technology from other worlds can connect; it's just a reminder that they're not so different, him and Rey.
With his own port at the back of his skull, just where his neck connects to his head, Nick hands Rey the wire so she can plug him in whenever she's ready. "Undine happen to tell you what you oughtta be looking for when a synth's memory starts going haywire?"
He certainly hopes it isn't as bad as he put it just then.
"She might've made a few suggestions regarding output limitations. I'd like to take a look at that just to make sure, though." She casts him a sidelong look, but continues typing. "Don't suppose that Institute of yours was able to produce anything like a quantum board."
More of a statement than a question. It took decades for the team that made her to create such a thing -- and that was with more complicated equipment than a terminal like this.
"Hell if I know," he replies quietly, his eyes back on his bare hand. "I don't even know why they built me or how I got out of there in the first place, remember?"
Though Nick tries to keep any degree of bitterness from his voice, it's hard, especially when he's having to doubt his own memories. When it comes to that brother he might have had, he can't even blame his faulty memory on the gods -- that's all him. Maybe a wire got crossed, maybe he took some damage at some point that got his processor mixed up, or maybe he's just always been like this, but whatever the reason, it's clearly been weighing on him for some time.
Though she can make a few guesses as to 'why', Rey has a pretty good idea on 'how' Nick escaped. That's assuming that what she saw in his head was real, even if there's no reason why he would imagine his own departure from this Institute like that.
After a moment, she falls quiet, focusing on both the information matching the keystrokes and Nick himself.
"It's... probably going to take me a while longer to figure some of what I'm seeing out. Don't think it'll be possible to do in one sitting."
There's an instant of relief that crosses Nick's face, something he'd rather Rey didn't see. For all the times he's told her to come talk to him if she has a problem, here is his putting off his own. He wants answers, there's no doubt about it... and yet, he's a little afraid of what they're going to find in there when they start delving into his muddled memories. He has to know, but how much does he really want to?
It's a conundrum, and one that makes Nick uncomfortable even in his own synthetic skin. That's something he hasn't felt to any strong degree in a while, but damn if he can't help but feel it now as his mind wanders, still focusing on half-faded, half-fictional memories of times and lives he never truly lived.
He nods. "Yeah, I figured there'd be a lot to go through. Just take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
Frustrated as Rey is that there's still so much she to learn, she sighs. Nick is visibly relieved, though, which means he's probably about as ready for this as she is. Which is to say that they're not prepared for this at all.
"Right." She tried not to point out the futility of his statement, and just would rather that it be true. There's only so much that she can handle weighing on her mind before it gets to be too much. "Well, wouldn't want to scramble up your brain because we got too eager to dive in."
Or her own brain, for that matter. But that's a given concern, knowing how Nick thinks.
"Not sure how much worse it could get up there," Nick says, his light tone and soft smile belying the utter truth in that statement. He gets back on his feet, offering her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading out of the room, leaving her to parse through the numbers scrolling across the screen.
As much as he wants this dealt with, he can't deny the apprehension he feels at the notion that something might be wrong up there. Maybe he's taken too many knocks helping people in the Colosseum, or maybe the gods really have managed to make a mess of it with their meddling; it could be that his processor is just getting worn out. Whatever the cause, he just hopes there's a solution for it. It didn't matter before, back in Diamond City -- he had his job, had friends, but nothing to really lose. Folks could find another detective, had other help if they needed it.
But Rey might not be able to find another synth like him -- family. And who knows how she'd take the loss. If there's one thing Nick doesn't intend to find out, it's that.
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no subject
Date: 2017-08-21 03:27 am (UTC)"Thank you." Rey exhales as she pushes out of her seat, more relieved than anything not to making an argument out of this. Before heading to the office where the terminal is set up, she glances to Nick. "Hope you don't mind that we were using it, while she was here." Pause. She bites her lower lip. "She, um... She helped me with some things, you know? I don't know whether or not it was the gods or myself or maybe there was some bit of her that was in that..."
Does it matter, in the end?
no subject
Date: 2017-08-21 04:28 am (UTC)He means for notes, but in the right hands, it could be more.
"And if she managed to help you figure out some things," he continues, softer, "then that's good enough for me." He might never admit it aloud, but she helped him figure out some things, too -- things that went unsaid far too often between himself and Rey.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-21 05:20 am (UTC)Hard to think that Nick hails from a place so advanced to create sentient machines using operating systems for such old general-purpose computing. But she's not here to critique the old school style of his world's aesthetics.
"She was like that," Rey continues as she seats herself in front of the terminal in the office. Her eyes remain glued to the screen than to Nick himself. "Smart as hell, always wanted to help. Was interning for the project that eventually made me at seventeen. She..."
Her face reddens as she stops herself. She ducks her head, staring down at the keyboard where her hands are.
"Sorry."
Why is she apologizing? Why is she telling him this? Hasn't it hurt him enough without knowing these things?
Chest tightening, Rey goes back to focusing on the words on the screen.
Does talking about it really help? Undine used to think so. Rey isn't so sure, though.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-23 11:54 pm (UTC)Nick's insistence is firm; this is not her fault. None of it is. He's having a hard enough time reminding himself of that, given how jumbled those flashes of memory seem to be these days. Even as he says that, he can hear someone telling him the same thing, a long dead echo reverberating in the back of his mind.
This isn't your fault, Nick.
He'd been angry at the time, furious to hear those words. He was confused when he'd heard them again in the wastes, before he realized the synth he'd become -- the human he'd never truly been, despite those memories. Now, that reassurance just wears on him. Jenny hadn't been his fault, and in a way, Undine wasn't... but he'd been the one to put the bullet in her. He'd been made an accessory, used like a tool.
His hand is back at his temple as he takes the sitting chair near the bed; he's still trying to shut out the auditory feedback playing in his mind, but it's an old recording he can't quite erase.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-25 02:27 am (UTC)"Right. Anyway..." She shakes her head, refocusing her attention on the screen in front of her. "We actually managed to figure out how to put together something that'll help me interface with your gear, but I'll need your help."
From a drawer in the desk, Rey extracts a long cord. One end is fashioned to hook up to the hardware itself, but the other end is a needle, half an inch in length, that appears to connect to something else.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-25 04:34 am (UTC)He takes the needle end, getting a feeling he knows where this is going from what Rey said. Interface, like a machine. "Just tell me what to do."
no subject
Date: 2017-08-25 09:13 pm (UTC)She focuses on the reality at present, now that it isn't just Nick's head that's at stake here -- but Rey's, to some extent.
"It needs to go here." She points to the back of her own head. "There's a port in the dura that connects to my brain. I'd do it myself, but the needle is a little bigger than the one my father used, so it's a little tricky."
One of the downsides to improvising with what they have here. That, and the process hurts like hell, but Nick might not like knowing that part.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-25 10:47 pm (UTC)After gingerly brushing aside some of her hair, he finds the port; he hesitates. "You sure about this?"
no subject
Date: 2017-08-26 02:33 am (UTC)But no. This has to be done. It's the easiest way for her to help Nick.
"Sure I'm sure," she says flatly. "Just make it quick."
It's been a long time since she's done something like this, but she's never really forgotten.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-26 04:53 am (UTC)His fingers tighten on the needle for just a second before he aligns it with the port and pushes it in, making quick work of it, as requested.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-26 11:41 pm (UTC)"Good news, I'm not brain-fried." Rey forces a curt laugh, bringing a hand to the side of the needle to make sure that it's correctly in place.
Also good news -- it is.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-27 08:12 am (UTC)But hell, that goes for a lot of things lately, his memories included.
"Well? How is it?"
no subject
Date: 2017-08-28 05:49 am (UTC)"Could be worse. Don't know how the hell Tejinder could do this all the time." She snorts, pointing to her own temple. "That guy has a port right here that shit can just go into. Looks a lot easier."
Less painful, too -- and a lot less conspicuous. Rey wasn't supposed to know what she was for the longest time. Any obvious indicators of synthetic hardware would have easily given that secret away.
She scoffs. "Anyway, I'm fine."
Or she will be. She'll have to, for Nick.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-29 08:49 am (UTC)With his own port at the back of his skull, just where his neck connects to his head, Nick hands Rey the wire so she can plug him in whenever she's ready. "Undine happen to tell you what you oughtta be looking for when a synth's memory starts going haywire?"
He certainly hopes it isn't as bad as he put it just then.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-29 02:28 pm (UTC)"She might've made a few suggestions regarding output limitations. I'd like to take a look at that just to make sure, though." She casts him a sidelong look, but continues typing. "Don't suppose that Institute of yours was able to produce anything like a quantum board."
More of a statement than a question. It took decades for the team that made her to create such a thing -- and that was with more complicated equipment than a terminal like this.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-21 01:49 am (UTC)Though Nick tries to keep any degree of bitterness from his voice, it's hard, especially when he's having to doubt his own memories. When it comes to that brother he might have had, he can't even blame his faulty memory on the gods -- that's all him. Maybe a wire got crossed, maybe he took some damage at some point that got his processor mixed up, or maybe he's just always been like this, but whatever the reason, it's clearly been weighing on him for some time.
no subject
Date: 2017-10-04 02:21 pm (UTC)After a moment, she falls quiet, focusing on both the information matching the keystrokes and Nick himself.
"It's... probably going to take me a while longer to figure some of what I'm seeing out. Don't think it'll be possible to do in one sitting."
Of course. That'd be too easy.
no subject
Date: 2017-10-05 08:22 am (UTC)It's a conundrum, and one that makes Nick uncomfortable even in his own synthetic skin. That's something he hasn't felt to any strong degree in a while, but damn if he can't help but feel it now as his mind wanders, still focusing on half-faded, half-fictional memories of times and lives he never truly lived.
He nods. "Yeah, I figured there'd be a lot to go through. Just take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
Not if he can help it, at least.
no subject
Date: 2017-10-06 03:21 am (UTC)"Right." She tried not to point out the futility of his statement, and just would rather that it be true. There's only so much that she can handle weighing on her mind before it gets to be too much. "Well, wouldn't want to scramble up your brain because we got too eager to dive in."
Or her own brain, for that matter. But that's a given concern, knowing how Nick thinks.
It's a start, at least.
no subject
Date: 2017-10-06 03:49 am (UTC)As much as he wants this dealt with, he can't deny the apprehension he feels at the notion that something might be wrong up there. Maybe he's taken too many knocks helping people in the Colosseum, or maybe the gods really have managed to make a mess of it with their meddling; it could be that his processor is just getting worn out. Whatever the cause, he just hopes there's a solution for it. It didn't matter before, back in Diamond City -- he had his job, had friends, but nothing to really lose. Folks could find another detective, had other help if they needed it.
But Rey might not be able to find another synth like him -- family. And who knows how she'd take the loss. If there's one thing Nick doesn't intend to find out, it's that.