Chapter Text
What made someone a person? Was it the blood that ran through their veins? Was it the way their chests expanded and contracted in attempts to pull in air? Was it the presence of organs like livers that focused on keeping them running, made of flesh instead of cool steel? What even separated nerves from electrical wiring? Did it matter? Was humanity stored in the flesh or in something different? Was Coil human? Has it ever been?
It had lots of questions and no way to voice them, sitting in the bleak doctors office. It had been there for days, watching someone it didn’t recognise peel off plates of metal bit by bit. On the second day, it was certain it had seen the Doctor leave, and heard retching shortly after. There was a lot of blood involved. There has to be when you’re tearing off the top layer of ‘skin’.
Coil looked around, it didn't have much to do. It had finished the sudoku workbook the Doctor had left for it. There wasn’t much else for it to do aside from the puzzles and stare at the wall. At least they were making progress. Its forearms were flesh again, same with its thighs and calves. The Doctor wanted to avoid the more… delicate parts until he knew what he was doing. Coil did not understand what he was doing. The Doctor said fixing it would take a while. It didn’t understand why it was being fixed. The Creator had said it was perfect.
It turned the sudoku book over in its hands. It hadn’t seen The Creator in a while. He would be back, surely. It turned its head, watching as the Doctor walked in through the door. raised its hands to give a small wave, and it swore it saw the Doctor’s expression shift. There was the slightest raise of an eyebrow and a pause in his footstep. He seemed pleased, that was good.
“Hello to you too,” he said, walking over to sit beside the bed. The Doctor’s eyes glanced at the sudoku book. The Doctor seemed tense, his posture was almost too upright and his hands were clasped firmly in his lap. And the stare. Coil didn’t like how the Doctor looked at it, there was something in his gaze that made Coil’s stomach churn and pressure build up in the back of his throat. It was a foreign look that Coil couldn’t even begin to describe. The Doctor coughed, the sound was short, the kind meant to reel you in when you started to wonder about fickle things like emotions. “I asked, how have you found the puzzle book?” His tone was clipped, but Coil had learned that was just how he spoke. Or else he was perpetually annoyed.
“It’s been complete, sir.” it responded, it handed the book over to the Doctor, who set it on the bedside table.
“You don’t have to call me that,” the Doctor sighed. He picked up a book and started to flick through it. Coil just nodded in response. It didn’t have much to say after all.
They sat in awkward silence for a bit, Coil started to count the panels of wood that the flooring consisted of. It still had the same number as yesterday, and the day before, it was still 63 panels. Eventually the Doctor stood up, and walked over to his desk. “Coil.” His voice sounded tenser than usual, he was looking down at something on his desk.
“Yes?”
“You don’t seem to be in perfect condition.” Oh, that didn’t sound good. What part of it wasn’t functioning? Sure it hadn’t been doing much for the past few days, but it couldn’t exactly do anything productive when it hadn’t been given any orders. When did it fail? Had it failed a test it didn’t know about. What part of it needed to be fixed?
“I’ll do better–” it started, but it shut its mouth when it saw the Doctor shake his head. He must be quite upset then. Would it be better to try to defend itself, or should it just shut up and be quiet?
“Not like that.” The Doctor sighed, walking over to the bed again and messing with the monitors set up. “I just want to run some tests, get your vitals is all.”
Coil nodded hesitantly, it didn’t want to do this. In fact, the idea of getting tests made it’s stomach churn. Tests were never fun. A memory came to it of its last test. Subspace had been leering over its shoulder as it reached its claws into some poor inphernal, clenching its claws around the first organ it could find and pulling. It repeated this. Again, and again and again until the inphernal stopped moving. Coil had felt sick, much like it did now. But the way its Creator placed a hand on its shoulder and coughed out a single “good job” had made it push that feeling down and continue on to the next trial.
“I’m going to take your blood pressure first,” The Doctor said, snapping Coil’s attention back to him. Blood pressure. Coil didn’t understand but it nodded, and did not say anything as The Doctor strapped the odd looking contraption around its bicep. It didn’t say anything as it started to inflate, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable and borderline painful. The machine ticked, and numbers flashed on a monitor but Coil couldn’t make out what they meant. After what felt like minutes, the cuff deflated with some clicking noises and the Doctor was pulling it off.
The Doctor stared at the monitor for a few moments, then he walked over to the desk and jotted something down with a pen on a notebook. He turned back to Coil to speak. “I’m going to do a blood test now. Can you handle that?” The Doctor pulled the blood pressure monitor away and pushed a chair closer to the bed. He was looking at Coil, clearly awaiting an answer. But Coil knew better. It wasn’t a legitimate question. It was a test. It had been done to them plenty of times before and it wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it. Somebody would ask a question, a yes or no. And they’d act like you had a choice. Then when you said no? It was solitary confinement for a week.
“Yes, I have had them done before.” Coil responded, clenching and unclenching the hand that had the cuff on it. It still didn’t know why it was here. Should it trust the Doctor? The Doctor seemed friendly with the red horned inphernal who dragged Coil off the street, and that made it inclined to not trust him. But the Doctor had been nothing but kind to it over this last week. He gave it food, residence, puzzle books and he was quite patient. All the things its Creator said nobody except himself would ever extend to him.
The Doctor nodded, and turned to the drawer beside the bed. He started to go through it, and Coil turned its head to look at the ceiling. These tests were always easier if it looked away. If it stared at a point in the paint it would be easier to ignore the growing nausea, it could preoccupy its mind until the nausea turned to a numbness, and until that numbness overtook it and it passed out.
The Doctor gently grabbed Coil's right arm, securing the tourniquet halfway up his upper arm. It was looser than Coil was used to, it was only mildly uncomfortable anyway. It continued to stare at the roof as the Doctor took an alcohol wipe to clean its inner elbow. It was cold, and a slightly tingly sensation.
The needle itself didn’t hurt, Coil felt little more than a pinch. The feeling still made Coil jolt forwards, it could feel the needle going further in than it should’ve, pain shooting through its entire arm as the metal went through one wall of the vein and out through the other. Then it felt the Doctor’s spare hand grip its own, trying to hold its arm still. It glanced over, quite a stupid thing to do based on the way the air left its lungs near instantly.
This wasn’t right, was it? The procedure was all wrong. The Doctor was a liar– wasn’t he? This wasn’t safe. This wasn’t right. Hadn’t its Creator warned it about this? Kind people didn’t exist, not truly. They all had their own goals in mind, never actually caring for people outside themselves. It was their nature, or so Coil had been told.
The needle got pulled out, and Coil used the opportunity to swing its other arm directly into the side of the Doctor’s nose.There was a loud ‘crunch’ and the Doctor let out quite a loud string of swears. “What the bloody hell was that for–”
Coil wasn’t listening. It tried to get off of the bed on the other side. But its legs buckled under the weight (Apparently trying to stand suddenly without leg braces for the first time in months was in fact, a bad idea). It fell, its non injured arm trying to grab onto the windowsill above its head.
It had to get out, immediately. This wasn’t safe. It had to leave. It had to get back to its Creator. It had to get out. It had to get out– get out get out GET OUT.
It managed to stand. It had to lean most of its weight on the windowsill but it didn’t matter because progress was progress. It grabbed the window. Locked. And the drop was too far for it to realistically manage. It could try to get to the door— the most realistic option of escape. But it could hardly stand like this and getting through the Doctor would be difficult.
Speaking of the Doctor, Coil stared at him. Could Coil risk going fusion now? It would get it enough energy to make it out of wherever it was. Could it sustain that form for long enough was the question. Coil raised its good hand, the other one had started to swell and bruise already so moving it wasn’t optimal.
But the Doctor wasn’t doing anything. He had one hand covering his nose, and he had backed up, one hand raised as if giving up already. Did he really think Coil was stupid enough to fall for that? It would be almost insulted if it wasn’t so preoccupied with getting out.
Fusion form it was. Its good hand went to the chains on its right hand, finding the hidden button and pressing down. Sparks flew from its body, the tubes embedded in it starting to pump purple liquid as a whirring sound started to fill the room. Good. That meant its engine was still working.
“What are you doing?” The Doctor said, his tone was stern and just the slightest bit panicked. He was able to take a small step forward before Coil jumped through the window.
Glass was everywhere, it was in its arms, in its legs, but they were just about the only areas on its body with unprotected skin and not steel. It hit the ground with a slight clank. So its gravity coil was still functioning, good to know. It would dwell on that later because now it had about seven seconds before its fusion ran out. It pushed itself onto its feet, and started to dart throughout the alleyways. It didn't look where it was going, it was more focused on making sure one foot landed on the floor and then the other. Again and again.
It didn't get far, before the whirring started to sound choked, the liquid in the tubes started to clog at parts and judder before resuming a steady flow, this time the liquid being blue instead of purple. Its vision started to go. The edges started to become static-like, sliding in to cover more and more of its vision as colour slipped from the world. And then it went black as it collapsed onto the concrete alley floor.
Dragging Coil back to Medkit's apartment had taken longer than expected. Especially when factoring in the time taken to do it sneakily. Luckily, Coil hadn't managed to make his way out of the alleys he fell into, so there were less witnesses. Medkit did not want to think about who he was going to get to replace his window and how he would explain that.
He sighed, his breathing heavier than he would have liked as he sat down in his office chair. He almost put out his back trying to get Coil back and onto the bed again. It seems Subspace had decided cast iron and steel were the best materials to make a cyborg out of. Not that it mattered now since it was done.
He looked over his notes. He had managed to leave the blood sample aside and intact, which was good. Trying to get a sample so early from Coil's… ‘escape’, had been stupid in its own right. It had hardly been a week, of course the inphernal would be too traumatised to sit down and be poked with needles again. Medkit tried not to speculate on the details of what would have happened to Coil, but he would be stupid to assume this transformation of his had been consensual.
He'd analyse the blood sample soon, Coil hadn't woken up but seemed generally stable. But then again, what did Medkit know? He wasn't a doctor, he just knew some basic medical information and the rest was thanks to his gear. He wasn't even close to a nurse. He was out of his depth, reconstructing an inphernal both mentally and physically was far outside of his qualifications.
He took a sip of his coffee and stood up. He had to at least try, because if he didn't try to help Coil then nobody else would. He shut his notes and grabbed the blood sample. He'd try to figure some stuff out with his gear. He could see some issues clearly but there was bound to be more. He didn't know how having the crystal directly injected into Coil’s bloodstream would affect him. Medkit had only ever used it while in close proximity, not even in direct skin contact. He’d assumed the same for Subspace. On the contrary, Coil’s horn seemed to have a spot carved out for it. And if Medkit’s memory is correct, that was there before Subspace’s involvement in anything.
Medkit grabbed his briefcase and grabbed some equipment from it. He would manage. He needed to keep such Coil out of Blackrock’s hands. Even if he set his morals aside, Coil was a powerful weapon, and he didn’t want Blackrock to capitalise off of that.So he would do that. If he couldn't fix Coil then he'd get rid of him. Medkit would rather not need to do that, however he would do what was necessary. He would think about that later, for now he had blood to test and sleep to catch up on.