#dr. nigel trello

[wolfeyedwitch]

I bet Weapon will be very confused about getting anesthesia for the removal of that tracker! Will any of the team realize how confused they are?

Weapons Don't Weep, Part 10

So my plans changed from the original "remove the tracker" to "it makes more sense to put the tracker somewhere it wouldn't be safe to remove, so let's fry that sucker instead." Have some angst and miscommunications.

CW: living weapon whumpee, internalized dehumanization, it as a pronoun, panic attacks, implied touch starved whumpee. Please let me know if I missed anything, or if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist

---

The Weapon tried to sit still and think of nothing. It succeeded at only one of these tasks.

What were the terrorists planning? They said they were going to get rid of the tracker, but Command had always said that was impossible. And then they took not only radiographs, but a CT scan as well…

It wished it knew more about the scans than just how to best produce results. What were they looking for? 

No. No, no, no, it needed to stop these anomalous thoughts. They weren’t conducive to optimal functionality. It couldn’t predict the terrorists’ plans, and speculation only led to decreased efficacy of its biological system. It needed to stop, before it caused even more cortisol production. 

The Weapon turned its focus to breathing as evenly as possible and smoothing out its heart rate. 

After far too long and not nearly long enough, the leader and the doctor returned. 

“So,” the leader began. “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?”

“Yes, sir,” it said, voice a bare thread of sound. It was glad Command hadn’t heard it give such a paltry, feeble response to a question. 

A long moment passed. Was that not a good enough response? It had answered their question promptly, if quietly. It had been concise and not included anything more than asked of it. It knew better than to say anything other than what its handlers— no, these weren’t its handlers, but still. It knew better than to speak more than asked.

 One of the terrorists cleared his throat. The doctor picked up speaking where the leader had left off.

“Right,” he said. “As you recall, we said we were going to remove your tracker.”

“Yes, sir.” Non-negotiable, they had said. 

“The radiographs and CT scan were to give me a better idea of where exactly it is located,” he continued. “It’s in your right pleural space. That’s between your lung and ribs.”

The statement didn’t seem to require a response, so it remained silent.

“While Government has the resources to safely put a tracker in that location, I don’t have the resources to safely take it out.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

The Weapon’s chest was too tight. Its eyes filled with excess fluid even as it looked down to the floor. System malfunction. 

It’s trying to act human again. Make it cut that shit out.

So they were going to destroy it after all. That. That made more sense. Far more sense than the- the bullshit (the word was too crass and inaccurate for its reports, but it seemed appropriate for this situation) that they’d spouted off earlier. All the nonsensical things about giving it food and water and appropriate medical care. Like it was a person, not just a thing.

You aren’t human, darling. You’re a weapon. My weapon. And weapons don’t weep.

It was still malfunctioning, and it couldn’t make itself stop. Its breathing pattern was impeded by its chest refusing to expand properly. It bit its cheek viciously to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. 

The door opened with a clatter, and…

Was that the sound of wheels squeaking? 

“Weapon? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

That was Chloe’s voice. So she was going to be here for its destruction as well. It didn’t look up as it swallowed hard.

“Nigel was just telling them what he’d told us, about not taking the tracker out,” said the leader.

“Did you tell them the other part?” Chloe asked, tone not holding anything close to the proper respect for her superior officers. 

“Not yet,” the doctor said, sounding… defensive? That couldn’t be right. It must be misinterpreting that. “I was getting there.”

“Well, maybe you should have started with that,” Chloe said back, tone even less respectful. Was she not worried at all about the discipline these infractions would incur? “Now they’re not exactly in the right mindframe to listen!” 

Footsteps came closer, then a figure came into its blurry vision. 

“Weapon? It’s Chloe.” Her voice was soft. “I’m going to kneel down in front of you now.”

She did as she said, and it moved its eyes to avoid hers.

“Can you look at me, please?”

Since when did anyone say please to their weapon? 

It did as she asked. Asked, not ordered. The difference was jarring. It still avoided her eyes, but now it could see the birthmark creeping up her neck and the freckles liberally dotting her skin.

“Thanks,” she said. She smiled, though the Weapon didn’t understand why. What about this situation warranted that expression? 

The expression seemed to fold in on itself, somehow. When she spoke, it seemed to be more to herself than to it. 

“Okay. Okay, I can do this. Normally I’d touch, or at least ask, but… yeah, no. Okay.” Her tone got louder. “Weapon, can you please tell me five things you see?”

It blinked. An observational exercise? Now? For what purpose? 

It complied, even if it didn’t understand why. It didn’t have to understand; it just had to obey. Its breath hitched as it said, “Freckles. Birthmark. Blonde hair. Earrings.” 

It was at this point that it realized it probably should include things about the room, not just Chloe. “Um. Floor.”

“That’s… that’s really good. Good job,” she said. “Now four things you hear.”

Its voice was steadier this time. “You speaking. The… air conditioning?” Everything was so faint compared to the sound of blood rushing in its ears. What else, what else? 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry if you can’t get four, just… do your best,” Chloe said.

Of course it would do its best. It would never perform at less than peak efficacy. 

(Except when it did, when it malfunctioned, when it pretended to be— No. No, it wasn’t a person, and it wouldn’t try to pretend it was.)

“Electronics beeping,” it finally added. The noise was faint but audible.

She smiled again. “Yeah, I think three’s plenty. Well done.”

“Thank you? Sir.” It hastily added the proper form of address.

“Okay. So,” she said, “I’m glad you’re back with us. Let’s try this again, since Nigel didn’t break the news the best he could have.”

“My apologies, Weapon,” the doctor said. He even sounded like he meant it.

“First thing: we don’t want to hurt you,” Chloe said.

What?

“I should have made that clearer,” the doctor said. “I don’t often work with people in… difficult situations, so I wasn’t as sensitive as I should have been.”

What did people have to do with the situation? They were still talking about it, weren’t they?

“It’s like we said earlier,” the leader added. “Unless it’s necessary for the team’s safety, we aren’t going to do anything you don’t consent to. And even then, we will do our best to minimize any harm done to you.”

A quiet snort came from near the door.

Chloe turned towards the noise and said, “Shut the fuck up, Tyler.” Her voice was perfectly pleasant despite the harsh words. 

“I just think it’s funny, is all,” Tyler said. It hadn’t even realized he was in the room. “Minimizing harm.”

“This is neither the time nor the place,” the leader said. 

Chloe turned back to the Weapon. “Alright. So. The plan is that we’re going to disable the tracker rather than remove it, given that we can’t take it out safely.”

What?

“We had to get some equipment, which is why it took us longer to get here than Nigel and the boss,” she added. 

The following sequence of events were surreal. There was no way this was actually happening. There couldn’t be. There was no reason for the terrorists to explain their process to it. 

Chloe and her partner moved around the wheeled cart they’d brought in. (That explained the wheels squeaking, then.) They sifted through clunky electronic devices, so unlike what it was used to at the compound. They talked as they went. 

“That’s a bug sweeper,” Chloe said, gesturing to the device in the other terrorist’s hands. “Tyler’s gonna use it to find the frequency your tracker is on.”

“Got it,” he said.

Chloe peered over his shoulder at the device. “Yeesh, that's strong. Government wasn’t fucking around with this thing. Okay. Next step is we’re gonna use an EMP on it. It won’t touch you, and you shouldn’t feel anything other than…” She trailed off.

“Maybe a muscle twitch?” Tyler speculated. “Shouldn’t be anything, really.”

“Want me to use it on him to prove my point?” she asked.

It didn’t understand the question, and said so.

After an uncomfortable pause, Chloe said, “I’m just gonna take that as a yes. Doc, where can I use this without frying your tech?”

He pointed her to a section of the room. Chloe took Tyler’s arm and led the reluctant man to the area. 

“Now stand still and do your best to look pretty,” she said. She grabbed another device off the cart and held it almost directly over his ribs.

Tyler twitched and shook himself. “Okay, that was definitely not nothing. Jesus, that's weird. It didn’t hurt, but it definitely made the muscles sit up and pay attention.”

Then it was the Weapon’s turn to undergo the same process. Chloe set one hand on its shoulder as she aimed and fired the EMP. The warmth of it through its thin scrub top distracted the Weapon from its muscles clenching involuntarily.

Tyler brought the bug scanner over. “Nothing. The signal’s gone.”

And just like that, any chance it had of being rescued disappeared.

---

Taglist:

@ghostfacepepper, @kim-poce, @badluck990, @cupcakes-and-pain, @lonesome--hunter, @wits-and-wrongs, @neuro-whump, @winedark-whump @aswallowimprisoned, @rose-pinkie, @whumpy-writings, @whump-cravings, @secretwhumplair. @hobiisthesunfiteme, @whumpcreations, @myhusbandsasemni, @heart4brains @kixngiggles @neverthelass @extrabitterbrain @towerlesskey @ohnowhump @vickytokio @whumpinggrounds @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @extemporary-whump @pigeonwhumps @ifurd4d @aswallowimprisoned @the-magpiesystem

[wolfeyedwitch]

So what’s the story with Weapon’s antenna and earpiece?

Weapons Don't Weep, Part 8

*grins at you like the Cheshire cat* Ask and ye shall receive! Eventually.

CW for implied non-con body modification.

Masterlist

---

“Please tell me that’s not what it looks like,” Chloe said, looking at the x-rays they’d just taken of Weapon. 

The images were some of the most disturbing that Chloe had ever seen. It wasn’t the content itself that was chilling; no, it was what the images implied that had the three rebels concerned. 

One image was a chest x-ray. It showed the expected bright spot of wrongness under the ribs, just where Weapon had said their tracker was located. That was bad enough, equipping a person with a tracker like they’re nothing more than a piece of equipment. But that wasn’t the end of it. There was another anomaly, bright white and unmistakable, along the line of their spine.

The other image was an x-ray of their head and neck. It too showed something that didn’t belong. One of Weapon’s teeth was the wrong color on the x-ray, too uniformly white to be enamel and dentin. There were thin bright lines trailing from it to the Weapon’s throat, ending in small circles. 

“Well,” Nigel said, drawing the word out as he stared at the x-rays. “That depends. Does it look like a gross human rights violation to you?”

Chloe swore, quiet and emphatic. 

“So these are, what, some kind of implants?” Zeke asked. 

Nigel nodded. “We’ve got the tracker, obviously. The one in their mandible might be some kind of communication device, given that these—” he pointed to the lines emanating from the not-tooth— “extend to their larynx. I’m not sure about the one by their spine, though.”

Chloe thought back to her engineering courses, about all she’d learned of signals and how they traveled. “What if…” she started.

Nigel and Zeke both looked at her. She worried at her lip as she thought of the words she needed. 

“So that’s a tracker,” she said, pointing to it. “And it would send out a signal. But if a signal is going to get anywhere, it needs an antenna. Maybe…” She trailed off, hating the thought of a living, breathing, feeling person being treated anything like her engineering projects. 

Both men understood what she was implying, looking grim. 

“So we got the images,” Zeke said. “Now what? Can you take the tracker out?”

Nigel shook his head. “Not without better scans. These images don’t have nearly enough detail to plan a surgery.”

“What about the other ones?” Chloe asked. “Do they need to be taken out, too? Can they be taken out?”

“The Weapon won’t consent to that,” Zeke said. 

Chloe nodded, embarrassed. She’d been so caught up in the idea of getting the horrible things out that she’d forgotten about Weapon, and how terrifying this must be to them. She looked through the window to the exam room where they sat. They stared at the floor, back ramrod-straight and body statue-still. Only the slight movement of their breathing let her know they were still alive.

“The tooth would be easy enough to remove, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” Nigel said. “They’d have to be in range of Government’s communications for it to even work. And the antenna… I honestly don’t think I could remove it. It’s too close to their spinal cord, and it looks like parts of it have osseo-integrated. Fused to the bone,” he explained at the blank looks his medical jargon got. 

“Okay,” Chloe said. “And if it’s just the antenna, it shouldn’t be an issue to leave it in place.”

Zeke nodded thoughtfully. “So really it’s just the tracker we have to focus on. Doc, you said you need more imaging?”

“Ideally I’d get at least a CT scan,” Nigel agreed. “Can the generator take the load of that?”

“What kind of load are we talking?” Chloe asked. 

Nigel gave her the numbers.

“Oh yeah, Gennie can handle that no problem,” Chloe said. 

Zeke gave her a smile and nod at that, and she stood a little straighter at his approval. While some members brought their military experience as an asset to the team, Chloe brought something else: engineering expertise. Not many mechanical engineers only a few years out of college could say that their generator designs were powering an entire rebel base. 

They got the CT scan. Weapon was still as unnervingly polite and compliant as ever as Nigel directed them to lie down and remain still. Afterwards, Chloe sat with them as the images loaded.

An hour or so of uncomfortable silence later, Zeke came to the door. “Chloe, with me.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” she said. If his tone hadn’t already let her know the seriousness of the situation, his lack of response to her nickname would have.

Nigel was staring at the computer screen, brows furrowed. Behind him, Tyler sat eating an apple as noisily as possible. Riley leaned against the wall, gaze trained on Weapon through the window.

Aren’t I Miss Tardy-to-the-Party, Chloe thought. If the whole team was here, this had to be serious. 

“So we have a minor problem,” Nigel said. He adjusted the image on screen to show the tracker: a small disc of metal tucked underneath Weapon’s ribcage. The 3D rendering didn’t look any less disturbing than the x-ray had. 

“I can’t take that out without killing them,” he went on.

“Okay,” Riley said. “So we do what we originally planned: destroy Government’s biggest threat.”

Chloe turned to stare at them, mouth agape in dismay. “What? No! They’re not a machine to be destroyed; they’re a goddamn human being who needs our help!”

Riley just shrugged. “We can’t have them here with the tracker; we can’t take the tracker out without killing them. Do you have a better solution?” 

Chloe turned back to Nigel. “Why can’t you take it out?” she asked.

He gestured to the screen with a pen, sketching out reasons in such dense medical jargon that Chloe got lost about three words in. 

“For those of us who flunked high school anatomy, Doc?” Tyler drawled. 

Nigel sighed and started over. “The device is nestled in the pleural— it’s between their lung and the inside of their ribcage,” he said. “And it’s underneath their diaphragm. Getting it out would be delicate work, and run a high risk of causing respiratory distress. And that’s even before you factor in the fact that they’d need to be under general anesthesia for this, which I can’t do.”

“But- but Government got it in there just fine!” Chloe protested. 

Nigel fixed her with a flat stare. “Government has the resources to have a team of specialists on hand for procedures like that. They’d have cardiologists, pulmonologists, and anesthesiologists on top of general surgeons and a trained staff of nurses. We, on the other hand, have me: a single doctor trained as a generalist, not a specialist.” 

Chloe shrunk under his gaze. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “But we can’t have gotten this far just to quit!”

Tyler took a loud bite of his apple and spoke with his mouth full. “If you can’t take it out, why not just leave it in?”

That comment made the other four stare at him incredulously. 

“Because we don’t want even the possibility of Government finding this base,” Zeke said slowly.

Tyler shook his head. “Not what I meant. I meant, why don’t we just disable the thing instead of taking it out?”

“Can you do that?” Chloe asked eagerly.

He nodded. “Sure; I’ve got an EMP around here somewhere. If you grab a couple of your scanners, we can make sure the thing is nothing more than useless scraps.”

“Would that be safe for the Weapon?” Zeke asked. 

Nigel nodded slowly. “It’s encapsulated; as long as the EMP wouldn’t damage the hardware…”

“Nope, just fry the electronics,” Tyler said.

“Then it would be fine,” Nigel said. 

“And if we’re going to be scanning anyway, I can see about any signals coming off the other implants,” Chloe said, already warming to the idea.

Zeke nodded his approval. “Then do it.”

---

Taglist:

@appleejuice, @kim-poce, @badluck990, @cupcakes-and-pain, @lonesome--hunter, @wits-and-wrongs, @neuro-whump, @winedark-whump @aswallowimprisoned, @rose-pinkie, @whumpy-writings, @whump-cravings, @secretwhumplair. @hobiisthesunfiteme, @whumpcreations, @myhusbandsasemni, @heart4brains @kixngiggles @neverthelass

[wolfeyedwitch]

Weapons Don't Weep Masterlist

In a dystopian society controlled by an authoritarian government, a rebel group intercepts a convoy carrying The Weapon: an unknown device capable of destroying entire cities. When they investigate, they find not a machine, but a person: a living weapon.

This story features a lot of dehumanization and, in the case of Weapon, internalized dehumanization. This includes the use of "it" as a pronoun.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Force Feeding (BTHB)

Part 9 (Whumptober 2022)

Part 10

Trail of Blood (BTHB)

Part 11

Art:

Chloe

Weapon by @myhusbandsasemni

And this one by @ohnoelliot

Asks:

General:

[x] [x] [x] [x]

Comfort asks:

Chloe gets a hug, Weapon gets a plushie, soft words of reassurance for Weapon, another hug for Chloe, Weapon gets a day outside and a treat (canon, eventually), Weapon gets a photo book (probably canon)

Not so nice asks:

Chloe is drugged (canon), Weapon is forced to watch (canon)

Other:

'Bedtime' Story (canon)

Weapon gets a tablet and candy, Part 2, Part 3

My mutuals decided to whump and caretake my characters:

[x] [x]

Character introduction:

Hayden, Chloe's parent

Taglist:

@ghostfacepepper @kim-poce @badluck990 @cupcakes-and-pain @lonesome--hunter @wits-and-wrongs @neuro-whump @winedark-whump @aswallowimprisoned @rose-pinkie @whumpy-writings @whump-cravings @secretwhumplair @hobiisthesunfiteme @whumpcreations @myhusbandsasemni @heart4brains @kixngiggles @neverthelass @extrabitterbrain @towerlesskey @ohnowhump @vickytokio @whumpinggrounds @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @extemporary-whump @pigeonwhumps @w1zguy @aswallowimprisoned @the-magpiesystem @someonecradlemeintheirarms @sacredwrath @whump-in-the-closet @whumpfessional @cepheusgalaxy @mylovelyme @whumpacabra @starfields08000 @snakebites-and-ink

[wolfeyedwitch]

Weapons Don't Weep, Part 6

The alternate title for this piece is "Weapon.exe has stopped working". In which Weapon is very confused as to what these terrorists are planning.

CW for: fear of torture, minor mention of (feared, not actually occurring) vivisection, minor description of interrogation techniques, Weapon calling the rebels terrorists, dehydration. As always, please let me know if I missed any tags, or if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist

------------------------------

The Weapon didn’t know how long the drive to the terrorist base took. It tried to follow the terrorist leader’s instructions to get some rest, but it just couldn’t. It was too keenly aware of its dangerous position. It couldn’t stop itself from analyzing just what might await it when they arrived.

It was nearly paralyzed with fear by the time the transport stopped and it was brought out, blinking in the sudden light after its blindfold was removed. It didn't know what to expect, other than pain. These terrorists didn't know what it was, didn't understand its powers, so they would obviously try to figure it out. Then they would dispose of it.

Would they force it to use its powers for them to watch?

Would they cut it open, try to see what made it tick from the inside?

It had to swallow bile as it was brought to the medical bay. It didn't want this. It didn't want to be pulled apart and put back together again. It didn't want more tests, more surgeries.

What it wanted didn't matter. Not with its handlers, and especially not here with the terrorists.

The two from the transport, the leader and the one named Chloe, led it to a cot in the medical bay and had it sit down. The medic talked with the two terrorists, but despite the Weapon’s best efforts it couldn’t hear what was said. It seemed to be malfunctioning; all sensory input seemed like it was coming from very far away. Nothing quite made sense by the time its brain processed the information.

Finally, the three finished their conversation and walked back to where it was sitting. The medic pulled up a stool and sat down, while Chloe and their leader stood a little ways back, keeping watch over it.

“Hello,” the medic said. “I’m Dr. Trello, but you can call me Nigel.”

Its throat just clicked the first time it tried to speak. It swallowed hard and tried again. “H… hello, sir.”

The doctor frowned at that. Turning to the others, he asked, “Did you give them anything to drink?”

Chloe nodded. “On our way back. I gave them some from my water bottle, but they didn’t want to drink much.”

Of course it didn’t. It didn’t know how long the trip was, and it knew better than to make a mess due to unfortunate biological processes.

“Bring me a bottle of electrolytes, please.” He looked back to the Weapon, taking in the restraints still on it. “And a straw.”

Chloe nodded and left.

The doctor turned back to the Weapon. He smiled thinly. “I know you must be scared right now. That’s okay. I’m also guessing you’re confused about why you’re here.”

It waited, but the man seemed to want a response. It finally gave a small nod.

He smiled at it again. “Zeke and Chloe told me about your tracker.”

It held very, very still, following some lizard-brained instinct that said holding still would keep it safe from predators. Footsteps sounded from the doorway, and it managed to keep itself from turning to look.

Chloe walked into its line of sight with a plastic bottle of bright blue liquid in one hand. She smiled at it, too. “I didn’t know if you had a favorite flavor, so I grabbed mine. Hope that’s okay.”

It didn’t understand the statement, but knew she was looking for a response. “Yes, sir.”

The three terrorists shared a look at its words. Had it done something wrong already? Its pounding head was making it hard to think.

Chloe recovered first. “Sealed bottle,” she said, working the orange cap off the bottle with a small hiss of escaping air. She held up a little… paper package? She ripped it open to reveal a straw. Pulling on one end, she extended the straw and bent it to a slight angle, then placed it in the bottled liquid. She then took a sip from it.

“Not drugged. I was gonna use two straws, but then figured that you might be worried we’d drugged the straw or something. Either way, here.” She set the bottle, straw and all, on a small table; the table was then pulled over so it was close enough for the Weapon to reach the drink.

“Go ahead and drink that, and I’ll explain what we’re going to do,” the doctor said.

It complied. The liquid was room temperature, but still a boon to its dry throat and parched mouth. It had to make itself drink slowly rather than gulp the drink down all at once.

“So,” the doctor continued, “what we’re going to do. First off, we need to get rid of the tracker. There’s no way around that.”

The terrorist leader said, “We can’t have Government finding our location. Getting rid of the tracker is non-negotiable, as is anything else regarding the safety of my team and this base.”

“However,” the doctor said, “that is the only thing we will do without your consent.”

What?

Its confusion must have shown on its face, because the terrorist leader nodded. “Anything other than what’s absolutely necessary for our safety? We won’t do it without your permission.”

“We’d be massive hypocrites if we did anything else,” Chloe added. “The whole reason we’re fighting against Government in the first place is because we believe people have the right to freedom.”

It stared blankly at the three terrorists. It understood all the words they were saying individually. Put together in this order, though? It was more than a little confused.

The leader gave it a small smile. “It’s okay that you don’t believe us. We just wanted to make it clear at the outset what you could expect from us. We will be getting rid of the tracker. We will ask you questions about Government, about your powers and how they use them. But while you’re here, we will not harm you beyond what is absolutely necessary for our safety.”

“Like the restraints, and the tracker,” Chloe said. “Sorry about that.”

The leader nodded. “You will be provided with food and water. You will be given time and a place to sleep.”

“You will be given any necessary medical treatment,” the doctor said.

This was literally the opposite of how to conduct an effective interrogation. Prisoners were to be kept off-balance, scared, always guessing at what will come next. Prisoners should be kept uncomfortable, given no food for as long as possible, and as little water as medically necessary. Prisoners should be kept awake for as long as it takes for them to break. These terrorists were saying they were going to do the opposite of everything it knew about interrogation methods.

It had been trained in how to withstand interrogation. Well. How to withstand the methods that Government used, the ones that gave best results. Was this seemingly bizarre setup some kind of interrogation that it hadn’t been taught to withstand?

“Do you understand what we’ve explained?” asked the terrorist leader.

Not at all.

“Yes, sir.”

-----------------

Taglist:

@appleejuice, @kim-poce, @badluck990, @cupcakes-and-pain, @lonesome--hunter, @wits-and-wrongs, @neuro-whump, @winedark-whump @aswallowimprisoned, @rose-pinkie, @whumpy-writings, @whump-cravings, @secretwhumplair. @hobiisthesunfiteme, @whumpcreations