revivalproject | Operators

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Operators

WHO: Dustin, York, and Tony
WHERE: Temba Hospital
WHAT: Finally fixing up York's ear!! (maybe)
WHEN: Near the beginning of April
WARNINGS: Dustin and York in the same room. Uncomfortable talk of body modification re: An android.

Dustin is not looking forward to this.

He probably should be - this is the culmination of more than half a year's worth of work, and that's in Agra 10 time. Getting this prototype installed, successfully, will mean that he's not only cracked the shell on how to build more Thirium-based biocomponents, but has also resolved an outstanding problem that's been lurking on his to-do list since shortly after he arrived. It would mean closure for him and for York, who certainly deserves it at this point.

If only it didn't involve begging for the help of someone else. If only that 'someone else' wasn't Tony Fucking Stark. The simple Hospital in 30 message sent to him shortly before relaying the same to York felt like enough of a betrayal, even though the android knew someone else would be there to meet them. All Dustin can think about is the image of York nearly attacking Tony at last fall's Agrii-provided feast. Dustin lacked the context for what exactly triggered that assault, and Tony had mentioned that he and York have talked about fixing his ear anyway, but he doesn't know if that was before or after the Outburst, or even if that was what caused it. Tony had been frustratingly vague on the details and Dustin had been too flustered to ask the right questions anyway. The point is, there might be politics involved once York realizes that Tony is required to fix his ear, and Dustin has no idea how to handle that.

For the moment, he's done his best to at least coordinate that the two will meet him at the same place and at roughly the same time. Dustin waits past the front entrance to the Hospital, leaned against the wall to force himself not to pace - not that this stops him from looking incredibly nervous and uncomfortable anyway. His hunched posture and anxiously flickering eyes say enough.

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Maybe if Tony had closed the door, he could convince himself he couldn't actually hear York hectoring the other kid. Instead, he only had a moment to start pulling the room together before his shoulders were dropping with a roll of his eyes toward the humming lights and the serenity of a higher power. Unfortunately, his higher power had always been the future, and getting there meant getting through the unpleasant present.

He appeared back in the doorway, cutting a shadow through the glow of the light, impatiently snapping on a glove to then splay out both hands incredulously. "You're not even aiming all of that energy at the right target, kid. It would be much more efficient, we could both do our thing, if you let up on him," he suggested, twirling one finger then giving a beckoning curl to show where they should have all been standing, and yelling if they really wanted to, twenty minutes ago.

Just because this is progressing almost exactly the way Dustin had anticipated it would, doesn't mean that it hurts any less when York rounds on him; all it does is let him skip the part where he's surprised that it's happening and go straight to looking like he's been kicked in the gut. Dustin's gaze flicks to the ground next to York's feet and stays there, while his shoulders hunch further and further, drawing him inwards.

"He's not," is all the protest he can manage. Everything else is irrefutable - he should have just told York directly that Tony was involved. He knows Tony isn't just a sensitive subject, but a dangerous one. What was he thinking? This was such a bad idea.

Interestingly, it's Tony's intervention that saves Dustin from just spiraling to the point of walking out entirely. He'd expected him to just...what--reveal himself to make a menace, wait for them to figure it out? Offering to take some of the heat off and imply that they're trying to work as a team is not the angle Dustin thought he'd go for at all. He perks up, mostly in surprise, then quickly centers himself again.

"--He's got the best means to fix you, too," Dustin says, finishing his previous thought. "He's not Antonio, but he has a better chance of understanding how your security protocols work than I do--hell, than you do. I...need that. To make sure I--" Dustin draws his hand to his chest for emphasis. "--can apply a fix that works. Alright?"

York feels a fury he hasn't since the invasion of Jericho. Dustin withheld really important information and it felt... felt like betrayal. Was that what it was? It was a strange and new thing, butting alongside the fury. He's about to shove Dustin when Tony comes back out with gloved covered hands to add his remarks on the situations.

He may not be Antonio, but the likeness between him and this Tony was too eerie for York.

But Dustin also brings up the point that Tony has the best means to fix up anything else accidentally broken. And he's tired of only being able to hear on one side. The android finally decides to go along with it, but jabs his finger to Dustin's chest. "Fine, but know that I'm furious at you. You should've fucking told me, you fucking dick."

Yep. He's mad.

But he does head into the room Tony's already in, shoving his hands in the pouch of his hoodie. York takes enough steps in to let Dustin in after him, but no further. There's no hiding the nervousness on his face. And he's not looking at Tony. Anywhere else but Tony. The last time they had actually interacted had been at that Great Full feast thing.

That wasn't a performance that Tony wanted to repeat, either, but he kept an intent stare on York after that jab into Dustin until they were both in the room and seemed reasonably likely they were going to keep their hands to themselves. Dustin was not entirely absolved of this sparking displeasure, earning a brief, narrow-eyed look before Tony was turning back toward his work.

The room felt like a dentist's office, if it were a game show--a row of oversized, adjustable seats were spaced evenly down the centre, under a suite of lights that had been reinforced by freestanding lamps that looked more like they were from a movie set. Tony had to weave between them to reach the counters that lined the back wall, where he had been gathering tools from the drawers and cupboards onto a butcher's block to wheel closer. It rattled as he shoved it with a foot towards a seat, where he came to stand behind and tap an enticing (tight and impatient) rhythm against the headrest.

Maybe if he thought he was in the right here, Dustin would have a little more of a spine. As it is, he flinches away from any move York makes towards him, barely puts up a fight against those accusatory finger-jabs into his chest and, when his gaze unconsciously flickers back to see how Tony is handling all of this, practically wilts under the unimpressed stare he gets back. He's not even sure why he cares what Tony thinks about him all of a sudden - maybe he's just that desperate for approval.

It's hard to even feel good about York agreeing to go through with the procedure anyway. Dustin shuffles his way inside, giving an impulsive glance into the hospital's empty hallway before shutting the door behind him. Tony's setup does not inspire confidence; the cold, oversized lights and cart of equipment evoke an operating theater rather than a doctor's office, and Dustin isn't keen on either of those concepts to begin with. His eyes rove over the presented tools for several seconds.

"...Yeah," he eventually mutters. Yes, I should have told you is what he means, but York's diatribe was nearly a minute ago at this point - the context is lost. Rather than clarifying, Dustin shakes his head and pops his hands into the satchel at his side, pulling out two more items to add to Tony's butcher's block: The prototype audio biocomponent, repaired and significantly revamped; and a series of tiny replacement pins for the ones that melted during the last test run. Both are sealed in their own anti-static bags, which is a significant upgrade from the clunky metal containers Dustin had to work with last time. He's done a lot of productive scavenging since then.

But there's nothing to be done yet. Dustin waits on the opposite side of the chair Tony has parked himself next to, chin down and hands shoved in his pockets, for York to take a seat.

No, this setup does not inspire courage or anything else York needs right about now. He's now in this room with a man he had little trust for, and a teen that threw York's trust back in his face. It's hard to feel brave in the face of that. Knowing it'll be useful at least to monitor his status, the hoodie comes off before he takes steps to decrease the distance between himself and the chair that Tony's fingers tap on.

Fuck. Fuck, this is such a bad idea. He shouldn't be here. They're going to h̢u̷rţ h͠im ̛it's͏̢̧ g͢ǫi̛n̢g͘ t͘͏o̷̕ ̛͞h͏̵͝ur̛t̛-

The glow from his chest turns from blue to red. He needs a moment. Two moments. Three. Almost four, but he's turning back around and seating himself on the chair. "Do̵̡͞n̢̕'̸t̶̢͠ ͏hu̡͜͡r͝͠t͜ m̧e," is all he can get out, looking first at Tony and Dustin. Tony could, as payback for the chair incident. He hopes the human doesn't. As it is, the hair and pale skin melt away to reveal the white exterior of his shell on his skull. A slight hiss and the section covering the broken part opens to give access.

Tony's glasses were finally pushed up into his hair as Dustin made his sheepish delivery for Tony to consider the parts, only for him to immediately regret the move as York settled back into the chair and he impulsively started, "No--." He had to control a wince, and the suspicious flick of his gaze toward Dustin, and the revelation that this was probably some kind of set up before he gave Dustin the chance to snap at him again. Worse, he couldn't just walk out now to stop playing this game; that would only provide them the ammunition they were looking for, to prove his real worth here. That all he was really going to do was hurt them.

Though he bit his tongue, his hands were still talking, moving tirelessly to accept York's head back against the seat where Tony held carefully against his cheek to keep him still while the chair was laid back, to leave York looking up into the glare of the lights and Tony staring down at him. It was only after Tony had cocked his head, considering the exposed damage, and his other hand had come up to test along the seam that his tongue finally unstuck to ask, "Can you feel that? We can start by minimizing your internal sensors. Local anaesthetic. We'll have to make sure your software is compatible anyway. You can show me the diagnostic from the incident."

It already feels like he's been stabbed in the chest, which makes it hard for Dustin to imagine that this situation could somehow make him feel worse. And then York provides. His crackling pleas twist the knife and, where Tony manages to repress a significant reaction, Dustin looks like he's going to be sick. Words of mindless reassurance flash into his brain, but they aren't his - they're the voices of his adopted mother, her coworkers, the lab techs. Don't be scared, they told him. This will be quick. You'll barely feel a thing.

It's surreal, finding himself on the other side of that chair.

Dustin just stands there for a few moments, nauseous and brooding, while Tony starts to work. But it's exactly that - Tony, leaning in to put a hand on the exposed bit of York's casing - that finally spurs him back into action. Alarm flashes across Dustin's face as he takes a step forward, like he might be trying to intercept.

"Wait--" He stops, hand partially extended. Some seconds are needed for him to actually process why he's feeling the way he is and what to do about it, but the words work themselves out eventually, tumbling from Dustin's mouth. "--I promised I'd be the only one to work on him. I promised. Just--tell me what to do if you have to, whatever. But I can't let you do it yourself."

Surprisingly, York isn't even out to make Tony the bad guy here. None of this was really Tony's fault - York was viewing it as Dustin's. After all, the human teen did withhold the rather important information about Tony showing up in the first place despite knowing what the android felt.

The optical hardware refocuses and moves to deal with the bright lights, ending up looking at the two hovering over him. He sees the shadow - Dustin's arm - and looks between the two humans over him. He scowls.

"Only if you make sure to tell him everything he needs to know, since you won't with me," he hisses out, managing to keep his deviated emotions in check long enough to keep the crackle out of his voice. It's tough (and tiring) to be this upset and scared all in one. How did humans do it all the time?

York's eyes shift to Tony. "I can't feel it, but I get a warning about it." Then that gaze goes back to Dustin as the area Tony was poking about goes dark. More warnings crop up, but he dismisses them for the moment. "Think the new part will work since you saw my blueprints this time?"

It was clear that Tony did not yet understand this game, and it was feeling increasingly like it was entirely Dustin who was trying to get something out of one of them. As the kid lurched closer and started to reach, Tony's hand snapped away from York's neck ready to grab, leaving him poised with a hand clawed in the air and hackles raised already just to be told, actually, there wasn't any reason for him to be here at all.

"Back off," he warned, dark and quiet. "Sit down." It was only when he had some space again that the hand still in York's hair would incrementally relax, and he could look back down into the darkened shell, reaching blindly for tweezers at his side to start working out scorched pins. "What is it that you think I need to know?"

Dustin is certainly not a model human when it comes to dealing with being upset. There's only so much he can put up with, between York's needling and Tony's flare of aggression, before he settles back into a more familiar coping mechanism: Anger.

For a moment, it looks like Dustin might comply. Then his spine comes back with a vengeance - shoulders squaring, chin lowering, he swallows thickly and puts one foot forward in defiance.

"No," he growls. York's question is ignored, for the moment, except for how his accusing tone rubs more salt in his metaphorical wounds. "You handle venue and software, I handle hardware and installation. We had an agreement. He trusted me, I'm not--I'm not gonna let you turn me into a liar."

York didn't even mean to let his tone come out as accusing regarding. He wasn't trying to game Tony, or make things worse for Dustin. He wanted to be fixed and out of here. The LED that glowed under his shirt takes on the red color as the two seem to argue over him. Literally.

"S̢top f͏u̕c̀k͟i͟ng a͢r͟gùin̢g-̀" the android was terrified enough just being in this forsaken hospital with Tony Stark and exposing his hardware to him. The red almost seems to get brighter (it doesn't, York's programming is starting to play tricks on the optical inputs).

"C͏a͟n̴'t y͏o͟u ̢help ҉e̸açh ot̶h̴er?" Calm down. He needs to calm down. Some sparks start up near the damaged area, in a section that's still online.

The sparks finally make Tony raise his hands in surrender, York and Dustin's combined intensity prompting a deep breath before Tony was dropping his tools and pulling his sunglasses back down onto his nose. Whatever game this was, however much Tony thought he might distract them from hurting each other, his presence here was clearly designed to hurt both of them. Dustin was right; he had made the parts, he was the one that had seen some apparent blueprints, and Tony didn't even have an argument against how much they clearly didn't want him here.

"Enjoy the venue," he invited as he ceded the floor to Dustin, rounding the chair to head back the way he came, his voice echoing in the hall as he went. "You're both clearly really into it, glad I could help."

For just the briefest flicker, Dustin is relieved. That had been a gamble - Tony just as easily could have bodily picked him up and tossed his scrawny ass out of the door, he's well aware of this. But it seems like, between his persistence and York's crackly pleas and rather worryingly sharp increase in electrical discharge, they've managed to find a compromise.

It is, of course, only a flicker. Dustin's relief quickly morphs into confusion as Tony turns towards the door, then absolute befuddlement when he doesn't stop.

"Both into--what?" Clearly there's some subtext here that Dustin has missed. He glances at York, giving him a helpless, baffled stare, like maybe the android has an answer that makes sense, before shrugging with an exasperated groan and striding towards the door. As much as he might want to let Tony run off, he didn't reach out to the guy for no reason - he needs his help and so does York. "Tony--fucking, wait. Wait!"

What the hell was going on? York frowns, squinting and trying to adjust against the bright light as he looks up. All he can see is Tony's silhouette, the outline of him, throwing up his hands and moving away.

What were they really into?

It's only when Dustin moves too, that the android realizes that Tony is leaving, with the other teen following. He routes the power to come back online and rolls off of the chair to go after him. It makes some more sparks, but he doesn't care. York is confused as to what's happening.

"Wh͜y a̸r̶e y̧o̴u̷ ͡t͠wo ͘l͟ea̧vi̕ng͞?"

The one relief that Dustin had offered Tony thus far was never pursuing him, at least, and whatever barb he had at the ready was meant to keep Tony at a distance. He was happy to facilitate now, already saying, "No," one finger up to put an end to that discussion, only to slow and stop even as he did. He could hear the scuffle of York trying to follow as well, making his tense shoulders drop with some resignation, letting out a long sigh as the kid caught up and Tony could glance between the pair of them with pursed lips. "I'm not interested in playing whatever game this is," he said, flicking a finger to each of them and their heightened energy. "You can call me when you actually need something. I can't promise I'll answer, but you can call."

Tony already knows that one of Dustin's less-appreciated superpowers is his ability to argue about anything, so it should come as no surprise that his mouth is already open and he's taking a breath to protest after he's interrupted. The fact that York is following them isn't what gets him to pause - it's Tony's explanation.

I'm not interested in playing whatever game this is.

Dustin's brow furrows, his mouth still slightly parted in a baffled scowl, as he waits for the other shoe to drop, for Tony to follow up with a convoluted metaphor or something, but it never happens. He believes it. The concept is so absurd that - maybe per Tony's expectations - Dustin can't help but bark a derisive laugh.

"You think--you think this is a game?" he sputters in disbelief. A wild gesture, both arms out and palms wide, is thrown behind him to York. "You think I'd want to put him through this for fun? Are you fucking high?"

York needs to calm down. He knows it. It wasn't logical for him to let his synthesized emotions get the better of him and he knows it. He lets Dustin speak and takes the moment to get his synthetic nerves back under control.

"It's not a game, Tony," York agrees in a firm voice. "I know you don't think the best about me, but I'm not fucking around with this. I'd do it on my own if I could, but I can't."

He moves up to first stand next to Dustin, then a little closer to Tony. "This isn't a game. I swear I'm not working for anyone here in the city or outside of it. I am just an android looking to get fixed."

The derision was not making a strong argument, and Tony folded his arms with a raised eyebrow for Dustin to consider the delicate variables that might be contributing to the energy levels. York at least didn't seem intent on challenging Tony's patience, drawing out some of his defensive tension, but didn't have a much better reason for Tony to stick around and find out what other insults either of them had lined up for him. He flicked a finger toward Dustin to point out, "You've got your help. He made the part, he's going to fix it, nobody's got any regrets left. You don't need to go out of your way to prove how smart and capable you are, I get it, I'm not arguing. That's on me, sorry I wasn't clear about that, lab doesn't have a key, it's all yours."

From just past York's shoulder, Dustin lets his face drop into a hand so he can knead at the bridge of his nose. At this point, he's starting to wonder if Tony's not the one trying to play a game with them - perhaps an elaborate ploy to make both him and York agree to some kind of deal to keep him around, past the original (admittedly vague) specifications Dustin established with him? Getting them to admit that he's needed as an ego boost, or to get back at them for all of the annoyance and public spectacle both of them have caused him? Recording for blackmail, or to try and prove whatever weird theory Tony has about York working for outside sources?

But those aren't the sorts of puzzles Dustin is equipped to solve, nor does he think any of those things are especially important right now. "You know the venue isn't what I needed from you," he says, dropping his arm to fix Tony with a tired, exasperated glare. "Unless you included documentation for how to navigate York's security protocols somewhere in your lab, I'm not going to make any more progress than I did the last time we tried to perform an install of custom hardware on our own."

For a moment it seems like Dustin might leave it there, but then irritation takes over his pride.

"--I'm not trying to prove shit," he blurts. "Alright? York wants to get his ear fixed, I want to fix his ear. What do you want out of this?"

York's tired of this. Between Dustin withholding information to get the android here, to whatever the fuck was happening now, he understands the exacerbation humans feel towards each other. He turns on heel and goes back into the room, returning even as he pulls the hoodie back on in a hasty and rough manner. The LED is red from his stress, not even hinting at one of the other colors as he does so.

"You know what? Fuck this. I just wanted my fucking earpiece fixed and it's become a circus. So nevermind, I've got a warehouse to go sulk in until my sleep cycle fucking kicks in." The garment finally gets pulled on, the dark hair mussed around his head. "I'm sorry for my behavior at that feast thing the Agrii gave us, Tony, but I'm not going to stand here and try to convince you this isn't some fucking game."

He pulls the hood section up and starts storming off, shoving his hands back into the pouch again.

The only thing that Tony had wanted was to get the kid's head fixed, which apparently still wasn't going to happen. "Don't worry about it," he muttered at the apology, watching York thunder away and swinging out an open hand in his wake, expectant stare back on Dustin. He wanted Tony to help, but Tony wasn't supposed to do anything, and he needed to prove that he wasn't a liar, but didn't have anything to prove. Some part of this system must have been doing it for him, but Tony was not seeing it.

"Hey, listen, for the record," Tony was willing to linger enough to point out, "I get that you trust him so much. I've been there. I'm not going to say that it's not worth it, just..." What would he have done differently with Whitney, with Sunset, with Indries? When did he accept that any of them were lying to him, and why didn't he do anything about it? "I get it."

Dustin doesn't stop York from leaving, either; this wasn't where the android wanted to be in the first place, and even through his haze of frustration, he can recognize that trying to keep him here against his will would make things much, much worse. He just stares at the back of his head as he goes, expression vacant and numb.

All of that anxious, nervous anticipation he felt while waiting here, the tenuous hope that a project months in the making would finally be realized - slapped out of his hands in an instant. Cold disappointment leaves a pit in Dustin's stomach. That is, until Tony speaks up.

Dustin doesn't even realize how angry he is until the words come spilling out of his mouth. "--No you fucking don't," he snaps, whirling on Tony with a seething glare. "You haven't listened to anything I've said, this whole fucking time! If you had, you'd understand--"

That he trusts me and I can't let him down, is what Dustin tries to say, but the words suddenly catch in his throat and he has to stop, breathe, make a concerted effort not to sob with frustration. How much of that was his own fault? Is that really why he's so upset? Annoying and confusing questions, and Dustin doesn't have good answers for any of them.

Eventually he gives up with a rapid, flustered shake of his head. "--Forget it," Dustin growls, stomping his own way towards the Hospital entrance. "This was a mistake."

The fact that he's left the prototype behind in the lab doesn't escape him - Dustin just doesn't care enough to go back for it. He can make another one if York ever wants to try this again with him.

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