Kyra watched current fly through Peyton's chest and head as his cybernetic eyes flared with the processor's death. His upper body bent forward from the pain. The man groaned, but didn't call out. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat as he struggled against what was happening. Peyton Elliot's current agony was wrong on so many levels that she almost couldn't handle acknowledging her part in creating it. She immediately shut down her emotional reaction and did so with an efficiency not even the constant code programming could imitate. Her motivation was great and it wouldn't help either of them if she ended up a weeping mess at his feet.
"Please get into the chair, Captain Elliot. Do it now before you pass out. My purpose for doing this is to help give you back your life-your real life. I swear you can trust me not to hurt you any more than is necessary."
Unable to fight the excruciating torture of the complete reboot she had activated, Peyton automatically obeyed and stumbled to the chair. Kyra put her arms around him trying to help him to sit. She couldn't prevent a tortured groan escaping her throat or stop her shock when she actually heard it followed by an audible sob. Was she actually on the verge of full out crying? She hugged the man in her arms hard as she eased him down to sit.
"Captain Elliott, I read your service record over a hundred times while I waited for you to be put back into the bidding system. I know how many people you saved during your military service. All those people in the dessert villages... and the children... you saved so many children. You deserve a hell of lot more than to be a fuck toy for the highest bidder. I'm trying to help you escape what they've done to you. I swear I really am."
His gaze seemed barely focused enough to see her, but the cybernetic orbs he'd received in place of his eyes flared in surprise at the tears in hers.
Or maybe that was just her wishful thinking.
The muscles in his chest tensed and another little moan of despair leaked out of her mouth as he fought what was happening to him.
"I'm sorry. So sorry. There's no other way," Kyra whispered.
"Who the hell are you?" Peyton demanded, wincing as lightning flashed through his circuitry.
"Just someone who thinks this bullshit has gone on long enough," Kyra answered, patting his hand. She knew one of his hands was cybernetic, but at the moment she couldn't recall which one. She could only hope Captain Elliot felt her touch.
"No... Who are you really? You activated the creator code," Peyton stated, his voice breaking through bursts of pain.
Kyra drew in a sharp breath. "Yes. I did activate the creator code, but how do you know about that? The code is buried in a locked file only Jackson or I can access."
"Been trying... for years... to free myself," Peyton admitted, groaning at what was happening in his head.
Kyra nodded and sniffed. "Good for you, Captain Elliott. I hope others are doing the same. Now stop fighting the reboot and shut completely down. It's less painful if you don't fight it. I'm going to remove your controller wiring. Please try not to kill me when you wake up."
"Damn it... can't kill you... programmed... to be... your... husband." Peyton spat the words, letting his anger slip through the searing fire he was enduring. Being pissed was just too hard to block.
Kyra rubbed his arm as she sniffled harder. Even after watching others go through what he was, Peyton Elliot's suffering was hard for her to witness. But sympathy had no place in what she was planning to do to him.
"Is that actually sarcasm, Captain Elliot? If so, I really like you for it. And thanks for proving the dickwad was wrong. The human brain is superior. I knew it was... or at least I'd hoped my suspicions were true."
"This process... always hurts... like fucking hell," Peyton declared.
Kyra used her sleeve to wipe his sweating brow, trying to soothe him. She was so out of practice. The woman that used to know how to give comfort had been gone for many years. "I know it hurts bad. I'm sorry. It's going to get much worse before it gets better. Hang in there. I can't knock you out because I don't have the equipment. But once the processor is dead, you won't feel what I'm doing."
"Will I... remember you... or anything?" Peyton asked.
Kyra bit her lip at the question. Guilt consumed her because she didn't have a answer for him.
Then Peyton 313 groaned loudly as his upgrades sizzled and popped inside his head. His neural attachments were probably freaking out at the separation from the organic paths he had painstakingly created. Kyra winced because she was having to destroy them along with the cybernetic links, but hopefully they would build back quickly... and better without any blocks.