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Algernon - Day 21

(Note: We are 21 days in and Jet isn’t awake yet omg how do I do this every time...)(But SOON)

Gilmore was there to greet them when they arrived that evening. His welcome of his colleague was warmer than Joe's, but then Gilmore and Grant had been sharing correspondences long before the cyborgs ever met the doctor.

"I figured we'd let you settle in for the night and then get started fresh in the morning," Gilmore explained, ushering Grant and Joe indoors. The rest of the cyborgs were in the front room and a round of introductions took place, though they had all met Grant before once or twice over the last couple of years, but he could never seem to keep them all straight.

"I was hoping to look over the lab before retiring, if I may? Maybe take a copy of the plans for the 002 unit for some bedtime reading," Grant suggested.

"I'll show you the lab and introduce you to Jet, though he's still unconscious. I'm sorry but I do not leave hard copies of my cyborgs' designs lying around. They would be too easily copied or stolen. I hope you understand."

"Of course. You can give me a rundown of the plan of attack while we're down there, then."

Joe took Grant's bags up to his room while the others dispersed, Chang to prepare dinner and the others to find something to busy them until then. Joe would stay the night with Francoise during the duration of Dr. Grant's stay. She'd earlier taken one look at Joe's room before he left for the airport and pulled at her hair.

"How does this place look worse and worse every time I see it? How are you so messy?"

"Honestly? Jet was the one who always cleaned up, not me. I kinda got used to it."

"Jet's been gone for two years!"

"It's been a messy two years."

She'd all but tossed Joe out of his own room to clean up and prepare it for Dr. Grant herself. Joe hurried out the front door but still heard her scream when she got to his sink. He might have forgotten to rinse it out for the last couple of weeks. Two years of not having an angry six-foot-plus American after you when you didn't clean up tended to make one careless.

That was one of the reasons Joe never realized Jet's hair was dyed. When he was done with the sink it was immaculate. Clean sink, clean shower, swept floor, but otherwise Jet's bed was unmade and he had a habit of tossing his pants wherever.

The house hadn't been the same without Jet's clothes showing up in random places.

Joe placed Grant's bags on the bed and hurried back downstairs, catching up with the two professors as they descended into the underground laboratories. Gilmore glanced back at him and Joe just shrugged. What else was he going to do for a while?

Dr. Grant looked like a child in a candy store as Gilmore showed him the labs and equipment. He oohed and ahhed and wanted to admire and touch everything. Gilmore couldn't help but beam in pride a little.

They moved into the battle room so Gilmore could show Grant 002's specs on the large 3D projector.

"What I'll mostly need help with will be the construction of the body itself and the primary artificial organs," Gilmore explained, scrolling through the broken down sections of the cybernetic specs, "Even now I could attach 002's limbs in my sleep."

"Are you planning on making any alterations to the design?"

"Not this time. I'd rather not add extra stress to Jet by making changes he's not expecting. I can always upgrade him later; he's used to it. However, I'd like to keep the thrusters offline until I know he's ready, so we may have to temporarily disable the neuro-connectors. He knows how to override and refuel the jets himself otherwise."

Grant gestured to the bright neon lines streaking through the framework, dulled only by the mechanics related to the thrusters. "Is that an accelerator? Like 009?"

"An older model, but yes. 002 rarely uses it, though that's probably for the best. He wasn't designed for heavy power output of that kind and the accelerator is draining; that power is better used for his high-speed mode. The accelerator also has a tendency to disrupt the bonding of his armor. I leave it active though, you never know. One split second could mean life or death, right, 009?"

"Yeah," Joe muttered. There had been many split seconds, Joe thought, and Jet still never used it. He could have saved himself using it when the two of them went after the nuclear warheads in space. He could have brought down Maximoff without destroying himself with it. Had the accelerator been damaged and Jet just never said anything? Had he been that low on power?

Gilmore led them to a smaller side-lab that also functioned as his office where he could escape his sometimes very noisy cyborgs to work on his own projects.

"Before we head up for dinner there's one last thing to show you," he said to Dr. Grant, and went to the containment unit in the back of the room. "This is Jet Link. It's his body you'll be helping me construct."

Once moved from the Dolphin III's lab, Gilmore had placed Jet's head in containment and ran a gamut of scans and performed full diagnostics. He'd happily reported no physical damage to Jet's brain and that the cybernetic one was still registering as acceptable. Since then Gilmore installed a new pair of eyes and replaced the tongue and some missing teeth, as well as all the scanners, the chronometer, the translator, and the near-burnt out emergency power and oxygen supplier. He also installed a new transmitter and receiver but planned to keep them offline until Jet had been conscious for a few days.

Aside from the fact Jet's cheeks were still too hollow, he looked much more like how Joe remembered him. His hair was a bit shorter, but blond and unmatted. Francoise did a good job combing it in such a way that the patches where his hair had fallen out or been shaved were covered. The dangling vertebrae were still there and made a macabre addition but Gilmore pointed out that there were some surviving nerves he would try to preserve so the damaged vertebrae would stay intact until they fused Jet's head with his new body.

Despite these improvements, Grant took a look at Jet and stepped back in shock.

"I, uh…" he stammered.

"It's okay," Joe assured him, "I know it's a bit unnerving, but trust me he looks much better than he did."

"Yes, of course. Excuse me, I just didn't expect that, I guess."

Gilmore's brows rose slightly in surprise at Grant's discomfort but then shrugged. "You're brilliant at cybernetics, Phineas, but you always forget cyborgs involve people."

"Yes, yes, you're right. Sorry." Grant still hurried out of the room once he was able.

Joe smirked. "You make the weirdest friends, Doctor."

"Let's just hope he's still able to eat dinner," Gilmore sighed then followed his colleague back up into the house.

The cyborgs were banned from the labs unless Gilmore specifically called for one of them.

This may or may not have been due to uncomfortable hovering.

As such, they went about their chores, played the same board games again and again, or sat around pretending they were reading, or working, or doing anything but thinking about what was going on in the labs below them.

Two years they thought Jet dead, but now the fact that he wouldn't be back and walking among them for at least another week was too long for Joe to stand. He'd given up trying to play video games when he couldn't focus and kept dying and now was just sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for Gilmore to call him, even though the professor was far more likely to call Francoise if he needed one of them.

Still, among the impatience was an underlying feeling of happiness. Jet was alive and would soon indeed be back among them. Chang already announced he was going to make the American's favorite meal for him once he recovered.

"What would that be?" Albert asked over his newspaper.

"Chicken curry tetrazzini."

"I was not expecting that."

"Well it was either that or grilled cheese sandwiches but that seemed a bit underwhelming, considering."

"Wait," Pyunma said, "you said his favorite meal. Don't tell me you're also serving…"

"Yes. With the tetrazzini we'll be having alcoholic root beer floats. And some crappy chicken nuggets leftover from that fast food place in town he loved so much. I would never serve such a thing normally but he loved them so…"

"The longer in the fridge and the more congealed the grease the better, yeah."

Chang visibly shuddered. "And for dessert…"

"No!" Pyunma and Albert yelled simultaneously.

"Yes! Banana slices in milk with sugar!"

"Oh thank god I thought it was going to be something deep fried again," Pyunma sighed, "I'm not gonna eat it anyway but still."

"I'm pretty sure Jet will be the only one eating it," Chang agreed, "But I'm going to have to get the ingredients soon, I don't have everything here."

Albert folded his newspaper and put it on the coffee table. "We could do that now, it's not like we're doing anything. And this early in rebuilding Jet's body I doubt the professor will need our help.

Joe leapt on the idea. "I've been thinking. Jet doesn't have any clothes. We're going to have to get him some."

"Oh damn, you're right. Anything of his burned down with the house two years ago," Pyunma said.

"Well," Albert fidgeted, "Not everything. He had a box in storage, but the only thing wearable in it was a pair of slippers and his old AC/DC shirt."

"Then we'll get that for him."

"Uh, thing is, that was the shirt he got at that concert he dragged me to. We stood around forever to get a shirt and by the time he got up to the table they didn't have his size, so he bought something a bit bigger."

"…You've been wearing his shirt, haven't you."

"I waited with him for that damn shirt and it fits. I mean it's kind of snug in the chest but…"

"Is that why you always wear it when Lucy's around?" Chang snickered.

Albert glared.

In the end, just about every cyborg piled into two cars and drove into town. They'd barely finished asking Ivan if he wanted to go when he turned around and glared at them. He hated his car seat and drove nowhere unless absolutely required.

It was apparently too much to ask just to buy a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts for Jet. For one thing, no one could remember what sizes he used. The other problem was Joe himself, who insisted on getting more than just the bare essentials.

"We have to show we care, you guys! Get him some stuff he'd actually want, not just what will do."

"He likes to do his own shopping, Joe," Albert sighed, "and he prefers to do it by himself. I don't even know where he usually bought his clothes."

"You could just give him back his shirt, Heinrich."

"No."

"You don't even like AC/DC."

Pyunma walked up carrying a few jackets and vests. "Did Jet like plaid? I can't remember."

"Only if you're okay with him singing the 'Lumberjack Song' nonstop."

"That's a no, then," he said and hurried away before he got sucked into whatever Joe and Albert were bitching about.

GB was next to pop up, leaning unhappily on a shirt rack. "Unfortunate question, my lads, but was Jet a briefs or boxers man?"

Joe sighed and rubbed at his temples. "Recently, when he had to, boxers."

"When he had to? Don't tell me."

"Commando. Jet had no shame. I think I saw his dick more than my own."

"Sorry I asked. Why didn't you tell us rooming with him was so horrible, Joe?"

"Because then you'd make sure I was stuck with him so you wouldn't have to be."

"Damn straight."

"Look what I found!" Francoise cried, holding up a shirt as though it was the Holy Grail. It was a hideous collared shirt with tiny American flags printed on it.

"Put that in the cart right now. I'm going to go find an ugly tie to go with it," Albert said and ducked away into the racks.

"What about shoes? Anyone know Jet's size?"

"Gilmore makes Jet's shoes so he can fly with them. Don't worry about it."

"I'm getting Jet this cute pink toothbrush and no one can stop me!"

"Those jeans are too loose, Jet likes to show off his ass."

"…Why do you know these things."

"I got him a brush too!"

"I'm pretty sure this is Jet's cologne. It smells like 'I'm trying too hard'."

"Jet doesn't like big sweaters, Franny. He wears jackets."

"Too bad, he's getting a giant woolen sweater. He's going to be adorable."

"Look at this shirt. It's got a little angry eagle on it. I'm getting it for him."

Geronimo tossed a cowboy hat into the cart without a word.

"We're not buying him a whole wardrobe, guys!" Pyunma shouted as he looked at the overflowing cart.