Chapter Text
“Markus,” Connor sighed, wiping some blue paints from his boyfriend’s cheek. “You really need to be more careful. We’ve already established this is a group that is somehow well supplied.”
Markus tsked. He pulled away with a slight smirk and grabbed Connor’s fingers.
“I have you, don’t I? And it’s not like we can just cancel this celebration. It’s a chance for Androids to actually enjoy and mingle with the humans for the New Year.”
“You… are a self-sacrificial idiot.”
“And you, my dear, are a reckless workaholic.”
Connor smirked, tugging his hand away before stepping back. He adjusted his tie automatically smearing fresh paint on it. Markus snorted when he froze, eyes wide.
“Con. You’re such a dork and I love it. I’ll get you a new tie since it’s technically my fault I distracted you,” he grinned.
Connor looked at the ruined tie. It could probably be fixed with a good wash but… Well, why not just make it a special tie instead?
He stepped up to Markus again but instead reached for the palette in the tanned hand, swiping a mixture of paints. Then he proceeded to fingerpaint his tie while Markus watched on in incredulity and increasing amusement.
“There. Now it’s better right?”
“Sure, Connor,” Markus chuckled.
“Good. Then keep it safe for me.”
Connor unknotted the tie and pulled it off to drape around Markus’ neck.
“What! Connor what are you doing? You love your ties,” Makus protested trying to set his palette down and ward off the tie at the same time.
“And I love you. So shut up and take it as an offering of my eternal affection.”
Markus was startled into laughter giving Connor the chance to wrap it about his neck twice with a triumphant grin.
“What happened to your verbiage? Have you been digging into the internet?”
“Perhaps.” He stepped back, smugly observing his work. Markus had finally set down the pallet and was unwrapping the tie with reverent fingers. Which was understandable considering he was very fond of keeping his clothes in tact, especially his ties.
Hank called him narcissistic but Connor couldn’t just easily replace clothes anymore and he liked looking neat. There was nothing wrong with that.
“I want you to hold onto that for me until I get back. I have a lead on the case with the Lieutenant that I must work on.”
Markus looked up, his soft smile dropping into a frown. “Be careful alright?”
“Everything will be alright,” Connor crooned teasingly.
“You are never going to let me get over that are you?”
“Nope.”
Everything was not alright. Markus clutched the colorful tie in his pocket as he stared in horror and grief at the broken parts around the room. All of them belonged to an RK800 model.
His thirium pump sputtered and his chest squeezed as if being constricted by a steel beam. This was wrong so very very wrong. How could this have happened? He’d just seen him this morning!
The call to come out here had been from Connor. He’d just… He’d just been alive! If Markus had been faster… Maybe if he had not lingered, looking over the painting he’d done of his lover and, instead, had gone to see the real thing...
There was drying thirium splattered like paint across the crumbling walls and Markus had the sudden urge to gather as much of it in his hands as he could and hold it close. That was Connor’s life blood. He took a step forward, hesitant, unsure but still needing to do something .
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Lieutenant Anderson appeared at his side. “You shouldn’t still be here, son. It’s not a pretty sight.”
He’d forgotten the police had arrived a little bit ago after his panicked call.
Markus swallowed dryly and turned to the older man beside him. His face was drawn and weary, the lines harsher and deep, hie eyes red rimmed. He looked devastated and Markus couldn’t even blame him for this. Anderson loved Connor. He was part of his family; his son. They were one of the best android/human relationships they had to date.
“I… Why…?”
Anderson snorted, a bitter expression crossing his face. “The world is cruel Markus. No matter how much good you try to pour into it. C’mon. This is a crime scene now. We can’t have you here,” he said, gently steering him away.
A part of Markus never left that warehouse.
He sat and stared blankly at the tie in his hands. The paint was swiped colorfully across it in long lines and little flicked splotches. It was nothing like Connor’s usual neat and put together appearance. Markus had wanted to see him wear it when he got home, to their tiny little apartment in the Jericho complex.
He’d never get to see that. He’d never get to see him.
The tie scrunched easily in his hands and Markus allowed his anger to ruin the precious piece of his lover for a moment. Then he smoothed it back out and winced at the flaking paint.
There was a knock on the door but he ignored it. He didn’t want his friends checking in on him again. He just wanted to suffer alone and in peace before the New Year’s Eve celebration tomorrow night.
Alone…
He was going to be alone. Without Connor. Forever now.
Markus wasn’t sure he would be able to do that.
He clutched the tie closer, curling around it on their- his bed
“C’mon Markus. We know it’s hard but all these people are still waiting.”
He didn’t want to. He couldn’t.
How could he go up and put on a smile for people right now? They didn’t know, the humans especially couldn’t know, how he felt about Connor. They had never openly expressed their relationship. North, Simon, and Josh had their suspicions considering how he was acting now and how often they spent around the both of them… but they would never actually know. He couldn’t tell them. It would feel like admitting defeat in a way. He had let the murderers get to him by going after his loved one.
They had already won, though. By taking out Connor they had practically destroyed the leader of Jericho. They didn’t need to destroy him physically when all Markus had to do was reach for that empty void in the back of his mind and shut himself down.
“Markus,” North snapped, irritation leaking into her tone. “Please.”
He sighed and hauled himself off the floor, stuffing the tie into his pocket. Connor had had suspicions that they would target him at this event. He hoped they would.
The stage was a wooden platform built specifically for this event taking place in Hart Plaza. His footsteps rang out solidly beneath him. The milling humans were outnumbered by the many androids but they seemed at ease so far.
It was… supposed to be a good thing but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. His people had won the right to fight for their personhood. They could live now even if it would be an uphill battle for equality. They didn’t have to hide anymore. What use was he anymore?
He stood in front of the podium and the microphone, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Hank Anderson was sulking in the back of the crowd, along with a few other officers he recognized, and there were many many Jericho androids staring at him with cheer in their eyes. Why would they be sad for him if he never let them see or feel…?
Simon’s eyes were soulful and encouraging, standing by the large wooden monument the androids had built for this occasion. Josh was staring thoughtfully, lips pursed, only a few feet away from the stage.
Behind him stood North, always at the ready. Her other side was achingly empty.
“We are here today to celebrate going into the new year together! Androids and humans as friends; hand in hand, ready for the new day to dawn. A day for peac-”
He was cut off by the bullet lodging itself by his foot, woods splinters shredding the air.
North tackled him as the screams erupted from the crowd. The panic was disorienting and loud and all Markus could feel was disappointment that they missed. They were obviously not a very good shot.
North yanked him up, shoving him off the stage, where they ran into familiar officer. It was the same one that had shot down his people in fear. The same one that Markus himself had refused to murder in cold blood.
“Shit! C’mon, this way. We got a safehouse set up. Connor wants Markus to wait there.”
Did he just talk about Connor in the present tense?
He wasn’t able to think more on it because another bullet landed a few feet away. And then there were men in black hoods running down the street and Markus had a terrible flashback to the night of the revolution.
His thririum pump quickened, his stress levels shooting straight up. But still… something about him was serene. Something told him… everything would be alright.
He stopped, ignoring both North and Officer Miller trying to tug him away. His feet were planted firmly, his resolve settled. He wanted to see Connor again.
The first bullet hit him in the shoulder, the second scraped along the side of his neck, and the third…
Well, it would have hit him straight in the head.
Except. He moved. He dropped to the floor, blocking Officer Miller from harm, while North started shooting back.
He dropped because…
Just for a second…
The void in his mind was filled with Connor again. Panic and fear and love so strong he thought it might be real.
“You idiot!”
Markus sat in the safe house, head buried in his hands as North berated him again for being a moron. She couldn’t understand. That was his chance. That was his chance to leave as a martyr for his people. The easy way out.
But he didn’t take it. So, North was right. He was a moron, he was stupid, and he was an idiot because he should have taken the bullet to the head.
The door creaked, Markus ignored it. He focused on the void to drown out his friend. To drown out the rage and pain and self-loathing.
“I think he gets it, Nor…”
Markus’ processors froze, errors flashing across his HUD. That wasn’t possible.
“He’s a self-sacrificial idiot, we both know that.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t think he’d take the thought of you dying so hard,” she responded. “These last few days have been absolutely ridiculous! I thought he’d get angry not… not this.”
What?
“I didn’t think so either… I just… Well, it seems we underestimated how much he cares.”
What was going on?
“Right,” she snorted. “I’m not gonna wait for him to snap at you so you’re on your own there, Con.”
Con… Connor?
That wasn’t right?
No. No. Connor was…
Dead. Gone. Forever.
The sound of the door closing didn’t even register. He didn't want to look up. Feared the worst. Hoped for the best. He was gone but what if he wasn’t? Was this all some dream? His own pre-construction programming mapping out an impossible situation? Was he actually going insane?
“Markus… Markus. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you but you had to believe… I had to track them down. They needed to think I was dead.”
It was Connor’s voice pleading with him. It sounded so heartbroken but, oh, what if he looked up and there was nothing? Was he even pulling Connor from his memory banks now? Torturing himself this way would do nothing for anybody. What was wrong with him?
His hands clenched into fists, moving to block his ears. He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t do this! He couldn’t!
“Markus,” Connor’s voice yelped, startled. “Markus, your stress-!”
No no nonono nonononono!
Without conscious thought he slammed his entire body back, head hitting the concrete wall with a sickening crack. His audio components fritzed and crackled distorting the voice ringing in his ears. It was still there. Why was it still there?
He swung his head back again. Another loud crack, except it wasn’t his own head, but the soft plastic something behind him.
Markus’ eyes jolted open, green and blue almost glowing with his terror.
But Connor was there. Connor was there and whole and alive . And his hand was currently cradling his head from behind.
The RK800’s lips were moving but Markus couldn’t hear him anymore. How could he still be alive when the void existed? Where was Connor?
The android’s hand came up to his face, cupping his cheek and gently turning his head. Markus let him.
Connor paused, his lips pursing. The he started to talk again, slowly. His lips wrapped around his words with a purpose. It took almost a minute for Markus to realize his lips were repeating the same movements. It took another minute to figure out what he was saying.
‘Let me in.’
What did that mean? He was in the room. He was always in Markus’ head. Where else did he want in that Markus could let him?
‘Let me in.’
The words were starting to sound more insistent even though he couldn’t hear them and Connor was still speaking at the same speed as before.
‘Let me in.’
It sounded… pained and angry and sad. Just like Markus felt… minus the all consuming grief.
‘Let me in.’
But how could he be hearing it? He was going insane. But he wasn’t because he could feel his hands, so cold just like always.
‘Let me in, Markus!’
He blinked again, a bit groggily, and muttered, “Where?”
Connor paused his face twisting from determination to pained. Markus hated that look. Hated what it did to his features; the furrow between his brows, the thinness of his lips and the glistening in his eyes.
‘Let me in again please. Don’t block me out.’
There were more words this time but Connor only had to say them once. He heard them just fine in his head.
‘Please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’
Don’t do what?
…
The void flickered along with Connor’s voice. ‘Please. Please. Please.’
Each word was a stab to his processor, a throbbing insistent pain that was warning him something was wrong. Errors flashed consistently across his HUD at this point. It was getting rather annoying. He swiped them away again and focused on Connor’s eyes.
They were brown and just as warm as they’d always been, just filled with pain and a bitter aching regret.
His hand lifted of its own accord and Markus allowed his fingers to crawl up Connor’s face, his chassis showing through the tips. He traced the prominent cheekbone before allowing his hand to cup the man’s cheek, copying Connor’s position.
And suddenly he was there and solid in a way he hadn’t been before. Connor’s voice thrummed through his blood filling him and drowning him. His emotions swept over him like a tidal wave, wrapping around his own, dulling the sharp edges. The memories of the setup, the few days he’d spent tracking the group, and the night of New Years Eve when he attacked the sniper just in time was offered up on a gold platter and Markus devoured them hungrily.
It hurt. It hurt so bad that Connor resorted to that but at the same time he also understood . He knew what it felt like; the desperation, the need to save, the need to accomplish the set mission. So, it hurt but it was nowhere near compared to the grief and anger that he all but shoved at his lover. Connor accepted it all gracefully, bowing his head until their foreheads met.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.”
“Do you still have my tie?”
“Of course.”
“I think I want to wear it right now.”
“... Of course.”
Markus wanted to see that.