"Can you hear me?" Brigitte asked. "I'm a repair technician. I'm not with the Hashimoto. They're long gone by now. You were caught in the crossfire, weren't you?"

At those words, the Omnic sunk her fingernails into any crack in the ground she could find and pulled herself away. She dragged her faceplate against the ground- embedding the porcelain shard further into her head.

"Wait! You'll damage your processor. I can remove that shard for you." Brigitte called out. "I don't have to touch anything else if you don't want me to."

The Omnic rolled her remaining optic to meet her gaze.

"You still have control over your hands, right? Tap the ground once for no, and two times for yes." Brigitte mimed the motion with a small twitch of the wrist.

The Omnic's throat flashed. Garbled hiccuping- laughter, maybe?

Brigitte retrieved her pliers. "This won't feel pleasant. But the more you move against that shard, the more damage it'll do. Can I touch your face?"

The Omnic did not reply. Brigitte sat back, set the pliers down, and waited.

The Omnic's optic ratcheted. Visual recalibration, probably- not surprising that the Omnic needed to double-check reality, given the damage warnings that were surely roaring through her processor.

"It's alright. Take whatever time you need." Brigitte assured her.

The Omnic paused, then stretched out her hand. She turned her palm face up.

"Do you want me to hold your hand?"

Tap tap. The flick of her fingers was impatient, as if the question had been stupid. To be fair, maybe it'd been a little redundant. . .

Brigitte placed her hand on top of hers. The Omnic curled her fingers between hers and squeezed, hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to bruise, probably. Brigitte let her.

Then the Omnic let go, and snatched towards the pliers.

"Woah, easy! I can- do you want me to- let's get that shard out of your head, alright?" Brigitte readied the pliers in her hand.

The Omnic flinched. She curled her body away.

Brigitte dropped the pliers immediately. "I'm sorry. It's alright."

The Omnic scrabbled and plucked the pliers from the ground. She then stabbed them towards the shard, missing the edge and plunging the tips into her long ribbons of her hair mod.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself." Brigitte said. "But if you really want to do it yourself. . . how about I help you line it up? That sound good?"

The Omnic held the pliers above her faceplate again, wobbling in and out of line with the shard.

"Can I steady your arm?"

A glance. Then the Omnic squeezed the pliers together twice.

"Alright. I'll touch your elbow here, and your wrist here," Brigitte tapped the spots, and when the Omnic didn't flinch, she grabbed ahold.

Brigitte pulled the Omnic's arm in line, then helped her lower until she was able to grab the porcelain in the ends of the pliers.

"I'm going to help you pull it out straight, alright?" Brigitte gave her wrist a gentle squeeze. "Tell me when."

A few seconds, then the Omnic tapped her index finger against the plier handles twice.

"Three, two, one!"

Brigitte pulled the Omnic's wrist upwards. The shard slid out of her faceplate with a horrific wrenching sound. She spasmed. Electricity poured from the crevice of the injury.

The Omnic shot upright and scrambled to her feet.

"Easy! Try to cut power to the area-!"

The Omnic leaned forward, pressing her head against Brigitte's forehead. Electricity prickled against her skin. A hand on her waist, squeezing. Chin plating nuzzled into the crook of her neck.