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[empathicfault]

"Will Graham here. Leave a message."

[Open for text/audio/action/whatever.]

Comments

[cactusy]

Don't tell anyone else that's where I am.

[Will needed to know for the sake of the responsibility she still feels for him, even with this simulation crumbling down around her ears. She also trusts him to be practical, and not to do anything stupid and heroic with the information. Root and Eiffel, though, not so much.]

Zhao has my gun. Rogers has all my other weapons. It's pretty unlikely I'd be able to come at you with anything ranged even if I did get out of here; that would give you a better shot.

[empathicfault]

Okay.

[ Both to the not telling anyone else and the weapons breakdown. He's quiet for a long moment. ]

Anything you have on you that could be a weapon? Are you with anyone other than Yunlan?

[cactusy]

Nobody else is here.

[But though she doesn't know it, that's going to change soon.]

I have a scalpel.

[empathicfault]

...I'm distinctly aware, thank you.

[ It's snapped, but not into the communicator. He tries to recover. ]

-uh. Could you give that to Yunlan too, please?

[cactusy]

What did he say to you, Will?

[empathicfault]

That there's nothing that can do such an intentional amount of damage as a scalpel.

It doesn't matter. He's not here.

[cactusy]

First of all. Wrong. He's an idiot.

Second of all.

[She pulls in a quiet breath.]

I'm not letting anyone near me. But I have to get this chip out.

[empathicfault]

I guess the Chesapeake Ripper's case files weren't mixed in among mine, then.

[ It's muttered. More importantly-- ]

Shaw- there's no chip. Just like there's no Hannibal. I'm used to hallucinations, and that's what we have. Please don't dig into your brain with a scalpel.

[cactusy]

No, Will, look, this makes sense. I've known this was coming for a while now.

["Known" is a pretty strong word, but she's at least suspected, and the evidence feels really hard to deny.]

But just in case I'm wrong, you need to-- are you safe? Can you plug up your ears?

[empathicfault]

Shaw, if you're wrong, you can seriously damage yourself. Paralyze yourself, damage your motor functions, your involuntary responses, your memory. That's worse than death here.

[ He doesn't think he's getting through. He's starting to gather up his things, put his shoes on. ]

I'm safe. Plugging up my ears is going to result in only being able to hear him. No, thanks. Listen, you want me to bring my helmet? Maybe that'll keep the non-existent chip turned off.

[abrightboy]

Um... hey. Listen. ...I know a thing or two about... surgery. How are you going to cut out your own brainchip? You need help from someone who. You know. Knows how.

[cactusy]

[There's a half-beat of silence.]

I can't let anyone help me; it's too dangerous. This one is progressing fast.

[empathicfault]

[ Will nods at Malcolm, taking that angle instantly. He heads for the door and Shaw can probably hear him. ]

We can get there in half a minute. I'll watch for any change, Malcolm can get the chip out. We'll be fast and safe.

[abrightboy]

You know... I have a spare set of restraints, if you're worried about hurting us. We can tether your wrists.

[cactusy]

No. No, no-- don't come. I have to do this myself.

[empathicfault]

Why? Because you'll hurt us? We heal up, remember? And I won't let you anyway. I told you I wouldn't.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm grabs the restraints anyway, and heads to follow Will out the door.]

Yeah, come on. I'm practically a professional. I was in the room for an active brain surgery just last year.

[cactusy]

Not worth the risk. I have a plan.

[And she hangs up the phone.]