leftwithmybones | Dated April 15th

Dated April 15th

He has to stop putting this off.

There's a line he's been straddling where he wants to deliver a good product to Auggie, but he's not going to perfect it until he gets a few prototypes in testing and the best person to try them out is Auggie. He's managed to create an organism that supports the contacts and has matched it to Auggie's vitals so that it won't bother him. They're not permanent and they're definitely finnicky, but the big part of this is the brain implant.

"Once I put the implant in, it's basically a receiver," he explains, showing off the chip in a petri-dish. "Which means that on the off chance we ever get cable television here, you might flicker," he jokes in a deadpan. "Once it's in, you slip in the contacts and then you can turn them on and off. Black and white," he reminds him. "And yeah, for a while they might be a little fuzzy. There's some tweaks I might need to make and there's a solution you'll need to keep the contacts in to keep them healthy," he says. "I'll write it all down," he promises, eyeing Auggie and giving him some space to talk or ask questions. "You still want to move forward with this?"

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"Yeah, take a deep breath," he instructs, seeing as that's good advice for the both of them to have right now. It's not an easy procedure and he wishes they were doing this with full anesthetic, but he needs to know what he needs to tweak and for that, he needs alertness. Once the area is shaved and the numbing agent is rubbed on with gloves, McCoy eases back and gives Auggie's hand a gentle squeeze. "Your receptors should be slightly numb right now. Can you feel that?"

The last thing he needs are limbs flailing around.

It was the exact kind of response he expected, but there was a brief smile on his face about it anyway. If there were anyone he could count on to stick around, it was her. Had she chosen otherwise, he really would've understood, but he was glad that hadn't been the case.

"Barely," he responds once he was prompted, making sure to be completely honest. He wanted to make sure he was as numb as he was supposed to be, especially considering he wasn't asleep for this.

Annie can't help it - she looks up, feeling slightly anxious about the whole procedure before she tries to shove it back down again. She knows Auggie will feel it too if she tenses too obviously, and she doesn't want anything about her mood to carry over to him in some way.

"Should he be able to feel it at all?" she asks, glancing to the doctor for an answer.

"The implant? He might feel a little," McCoy admits, seeing as he can't completely anaesthetize the area if he wants to get an accurate reading. If there's too much sedation, the images will be blurry. "If it's really painful, I can give Auggie a pain pill for it. You say the word," he says, loading up the chip into the hypospray he's modified for the job.

Considering all he'd been through, the idea of a little pain didn't make Auggie all that anxious. Or any more anxious than he was about the entire situation, at least, and even that was on low. He'd always been the kind of person to decide what he wanted to do and not look back, and what was happening was no exception. He could hear the underlying worry in Annie's voice, though, and though he didn't move because he didn't want to disturb

"It'll be fine, Annie," he said, trying to sound reassuring and confident. It just made him all the more intent on not reacting, even if it did hurt more than he expected. He paused long enough to take a deep breath, steeling himself. "Whenever you're ready, I am."

"Okay." She nods slowly, her gaze softening a little despite her nerves. She knows, regardless of how much he can actually feel, that he can handle this. He's ready for this, and she doesn't want anything she may be feeling to transfer over. She pushes aside doubts, worries, and only tries to think of what might be possible if this works.

"Do you need me to help with anything?" she asks, suddenly feeling the need to inquire. Being put to good use might distract her enough so that she forgets to be nervous.

McCoy's busy getting the lights in place and getting everything sanitized. "Stay out of the way," he says, but it's not unkind. He just doesn't need to get the area infected with any stray germs that might get involved in the procedure. "It shouldn't take long and then we're going to use you as the test subject. You'll confirm or deny what Auggie says he sees. That okay with both of you?"

The longer the prep was, the more he felt the feeling of anxiousness in him. He didn't say anything though, just kept his breathing steady as he tried to think of the end goal. Annie seemed to calm down a little at least, or was hiding it better, so that was good.

"Yeah, of course," he replied. Knowing Annie, she'd rather be doing something than not doing something anyway.

"Got it," Annie adds, nodding firmly. It'll help, this task that he's giving her to do, but for now she squeezes Auggie's hand once before releasing her grip, taking enough steps back to bring her to the place where she's leaning against the far wall. She doesn't want to be underfoot, and they all know she's really not going anywhere anyway.

She loosely crosses her arms over her chest and just waits, silently, not on edge but certainly far from relaxed.

This is technically easy work, but his hand has to remain incredibly steady. With the chip loaded in the hypospray, he's got the scanning equipment set up so that he has a good picture of Auggie's scalp where he's shaved the patchwork. "Okay, I'm going to inject the chip and then you'll get the contacts in," he says. "Once they're in, I'll start up the receiver, but it'll be fuzzy vision and very muted so as not to overwhelm your brain. We're easing into this," he says, talking as he injects the hypospray along with a sedative to calm Auggie's nerves, something to dull his nerve endings, and something for the pain.

"There we go. Chip's in."

"Yeah, easing into it probably would be a good idea. It's been a while," he said, and though he still remained pretty light-hearted about it, that was something he was a little worried about. It'd been years since his eyes worked. He wasn't sure how they were going to react to being able to work right again.

Auggie wasn't sure what he ought to prepare for when it was clear he was about to do the first part of this. In the end, it barely hurt - he felt it, but the ache wasn't anything approaching excruciating, though he did wince a little. He knew the feeling of the sedative the second it entered his body, and he was honestly glad for it, even if it made him feel a little off.

"Contacts now?" he asked, not sure if there was a waiting period now. Did it have to settle in his head?

Annie doesn't glance away - she doesn't exactly go weak in the knees at the sight of a needle, and aside from that she doesn't have a direct view of what's going on across the room. So she lingers, arms still crossed as she watches Auggie's face instead, paying attention for any sign of pain or discomfort.

If he's feeling anything, he doesn't show it, and she smiles, slightly more reassured once it's over.

"Yeah, contacts," McCoy says, digging out the solution and the contacts, raising one up and checking that everything looks okay in the light. "I'm going to put them in for you, so I need you to avoid blinking as much as you can," he instructs, easing in after he's disinfected his hands as best as he can.

The meds have left him still a little loose limbed, but still alert, just as he needed to be. The injection area still stung a little, but by then, he barely paid any attention to it.

"As long as you don't poke me in the eye while you do it. That's a thing with contacts, right?" he asked, a small and brief half-smile lifting before he's serious again. Without another comment once he could feel McCoy close in, he did lift his chin a little, waiting for him to guide his face into whatever angle he needed it to be to get the things in. At that point, he liked to think it was pretty clear he was going to cooperate with whatever he said and not be difficult.

"Don't make the doctor laugh," Annie replies, pretending to be scolding in spite of the smile that curves up the corners of her mouth. He's making jokes, clearly he's not that bothered by the pain, unless a part of it is to deflect and distract - in which case she's more than happy to help with that part.

But she also doesn't want to distract Dr. McCoy from his job, especially with the procedure being as tentative as it is already.

"Yeah, that's a thing," McCoy agrees with a soft snort, sliding the contacts in as lightly as he can. Once he's sure they're matching up with the pupil as best as he can get them, he eases back. "Okay, Auggie. I need you to close your eyes," he instructs, turning the lights to the room off and drawing the curtain around their area. "When you do, I'm going to turn on the receiver and you need to open one eye at a time."

Annie's comment only served to make him hold back a snort of amusement, though the smirk was still there for her to see. Admittedly, when the actual process of getting them in happened, the immediate reaction of wanting to shut his eyes at the intrusion was hard to ignore. He forced himself to keep them open, though, and even tried not to blink too much after he stepped away.

For all the jokes, the gravity of the situation was hard to ignore anymore. He'd put off thinking much about having any kind of sight again - even with McCoy being so sure of what he's made, getting his hopes up seemed like a bad idea - and now he couldn't really ignore it anymore. The elephant in the room was there, and he was going to need to face whatever happened. The deep breath that he took was audible, and he only exhaled when he shut his eyes.

Whatever happened, he would get through it. He'd been through hell and back already and survived.

"Eyes shut," he announced, just waiting to hear him say the receiver was turned on so he could open them like he just instructed him to.

It takes a moment for her own eyes to adjust once McCoy shuts off the lights; there in the relative darkness, she waits. She doesn't know how Auggie is going to be able to see, but maybe it's because these contacts are sensitive and the doctor wants to adjust it gradually. She can only hazard a guess as to how all of this works. Though her instincts are telling her to move closer, she knows she's needed here, to validate everything he sees once any adjustments are made.

The nerves kick in again, though now they're laced with something closer to excitement. She's hopeful, above all else.

It doesn't take much fiddling once the equipment is in. It's an easy process, but only if it works. If it doesn't, he's got a lot of long nights ahead of him where he makes very small tweaks. "Okay," he says, exhaling and gesturing for Annie to step forward into Auggie's line of vision, if she wants to be there when he opens his eyes. "We're doing this one by one," he says, holding his datapadd in his hand to monitor the vitals as they do this. "I'd like you to open your right eye and tell me what you see."

One at a time. Auggie doesn't actually immediately do what he was asked to do. It's really only after he took another breath that he opened it, unsure what to expect. There was a brief moment he thought he had set himself up for disappointment again when he saw a whole lot of darkness. It didn't take him long to realize it was a completely different kind of darkness.

He could see the outline of things. They were really out of focus, to the point he honestly had no idea what he was looking at except it was something. But slowly, very slowly, as his eyes darted around, it seemed to get a little better.

"Shapes," he breathed out, because even if it was just that, it was a huge deal. It was more than he had ever thought he'd see again. It certainly made him keep wanting to keep looking, even though he swore he felt like it was straining the eye he was using as he did. It was a little too dark to really tell, but some of the shapes were even things that he thought he could identify.

Maybe.

To say things were still fuzzy was an understatement, to the point he could notice it even without the lights on that things were off. It was sort of like he was trying to look at the details of something at a great distance even though it was fairly close to him. His gaze scanned the area slowly, trying to make out something more concrete. What he ended up stopping on was what was so obviously the shape of a person standing nearby, and he even gestured when he said, "Someone standing there?"

She doesn't want to breathe, doesn't even want to do as much as blink for fear she'll somehow ruin this thing in its testing stages, and she waits until he glances around, his eyes clearly adjusting to the contrast. She's almost positive he'd been able to hear her from her position against the wall, but before this he'd only be able to gesture in her general vicinity, and now he points straight at her with one hand.

She's unable to hide her smile as she nods - again, slowly, unsure if too much movement will have a negative effect.

"Me," she says, an encouraging murmur, acknowledging that at least this far, they're on the right track.

"Easy now," McCoy warns, his gaze constantly flickering between the readout and Auggie's person. The last thing he needs is for the contacts or the receiver to overload. He taps away and monitors the vitals, trying to get everything down so he knows what to watch for the next little while. "When you feel like you've acclimatized, close the one eye and open the other. Slowly," he adds again, feeling like he needs the extra reminder.

It still was all disorienting. Still, the moment he realized who he had been looking at - he'd suspected, but wasn't entirely sure - made it all worth it. McCoy's warning was enough to focus him on looking around a little more again (and not just at her), closing the eye a minute or so after. He didn't open the other again immediately (he did say slowly, after all), instead giving himself a minute to rest his brain.

"I thought that was you. Didn't think the Doctor had such a nice figure, No offense," he joked, letting out a quiet chuckle. It was a big deal - more than any words he could put together - but that kind of reaction could come later. When they were alone. For now, he slowly opened his other eye when he felt ready.

He knew what to expect more this time. It made it easier to take it slow, since his initial instinct to dart his gaze around wasn't there now. Instead, he tried to see if things were getting better or worse in terms of the blurriness - he figured that would be important for McCoy to know.

"It's a lot of the same," he said. He paused to keep looking around, then amended, "A little better actually."

"Is that good?" Annie asks, not wanting to distract from the task at hand but unable to stop herself from blurting out the question in her excitement, the anticipation growing too much for her to ignore it. She immediately moves to quiet herself afterward, biting down on her lower lip and steeling herself for the answer where she's being a little too nosy.

Still, the fact that he's making jokes is a good sign, a sign that things haven't gotten screwed up somehow. He's prone to making them during a moment of tension too, so maybe she can't trust that. But she knows him well enough now to recognize when he's teasing just to tease or quipping in a crisis. It's always in the smile he shoots afterward - this one in her direction now that he knows where she's standing.

"I'll have you know I've got a waist to die for," McCoy jokes dryly, but the arch of his brow proves he's not even close to serious. The vitals are tracking well and it looks like they won't have too much information assaulting the brain. So he's got to give thanks for that. "Your brain's got a lot of ground to make up for. What I'd like for you to do is wear these about six hours a day to start. We'll ramp up," he promises. "We don't want to run before we can walk."

Auggie closed his eyes again as McCoy explained how things were going to work. It seemed like an uphill battle, but he hadn't expected anything else to be honest.

"I'm fine with starting slow," he replied, honestly. He wasn't about to complain or do anything that might jeopardize what he made for him. If he had to take it slow, he could take it slow. Honestly, it was probably better he took it slow. Too long of what he was seeing right now would give him a headache. "Is there places I shouldn't use them right now, like outside, since it's bright?"

They had just been sitting in the dark, so maybe too much light right now wasn't a good idea. He just didn't want to do something he shouldn't, so getting the rules out of the way seemed like a good idea.

Annie does crack a smile at the joke, though manages to keep a relatively straight face as she listens to the doc's instructions. Six hours a day doesn't sound like it'd be pushing it, and considering there'd been what resembled minor brain surgery involved, she doesn't want Auggie to overexert himself in this area either. There's too much at risk, more than just his ability to see. She doesn't want to know what else they could be putting at stake by rushing into anything.

She takes a few steps closer, reaching out just enough to place a hand on Auggie's arm as he continues asking questions. She knows he might be able to see her approaching now, but the habit of wanting him to feel her close by is still a hard one to break.

"Don't stare at the sun," McCoy deadpans, his voice completely even. "And you'll want to stay away from flourescents for a while. Neutral, warm lights," he advises. "We're going to start from the bottom and work our way up. I don't have another set of tech to make a back-up pair of contacts," he warns. "This is all we've got."

Auggie let out a quiet snort, unable to resist rolling his eyes at the comment. He was pretty sure that was the last thing he was planning on doing.

"Well, there goes my first idea," he said, sarcastically. The reminder of it being the only of its' kind was enough to make him a little serious again, though. If something were to ever happen to them, it would mean he'd be right back where he started. He nodded his head to show he understood. "I'll take good care of them."

He had a chance he never thought he had. He wasn't going to blow it.

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Dated April 15th

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