Chapter Text
Connor hadn’t known what to expect when he left Haven. Relief, perhaps. They had all done their best to give him his space, and not to crowd him, but both the noise of the other androids and the constant rotation of babysitters had begun to grate on him. He was looking forward to going to Hank’s house, particularly to seeing Sumo again.
At least, that was until he was staring at the main gates.
The two guards there, both SQ800 models, stared at him without emotion, hands relaxed, but still close enough to their guns to draw them in a manner of seconds. It was a pose Connor knew well, after having worked with the DPD for so long.
But it wasn’t the guards who terrified him, though they certainly made him uneasy, it was the waiting streets beyond the gates. Cars drifted between buildings, and his sensors relentlessly scanned the people who filtered into view. None passed close enough to Haven’s gates to see him, but he felt exposed all the same.
“I’ll call us a cab,” Hank said behind him, “The neighbors just dropped off Sumo, so he’ll be there waiting for you when we get home.”
The smile in his voice was so evident that Connor could picture it without even needing to turn around. But he did anyways, only to watch it slip from the lieutenant's face.
“What’s wrong, son?”
He didn’t have to see his LED to know it was red, to know North was already alerting Markus to meet them at the gates despite already having said goodbye. But he couldn’t find the energy to overpower it, to turn it a nice placid blue that his friends would undoubtedly see through anyway.
The gate called to him, drawing his gaze back as he felt his pump regulator speed up, rushing thirium though his biocomponents to keep them well-oiled. Ready to run.
Run from what?
“North.”
She was at his side before he realized he’d even spoken her name, pressing her hip into his own, a humorless smile on her lips. Neither of them spoke, but he felt her eyes on him all the same. There was no need for conversation, she knew immediately. It was nice, being seen so easily. He was going to miss this when he left.
If he left.
Her hand brushed his, and he felt her pinky slip beneath his gloves. Gratefully, he opened a connection, and made sure to keep his own systems in check before they could overwhelm North’s. It was getting easier, with all the practice he’d been getting. It was easy to see why androids preferred to communicate this way.
Who did you see?
It was a simple enough question, but it sucked the air right out of Connor’s lungs.
I should have warned you.
Her voice was emotionless, but the memories she showed him were not. Only flickers, she never opened her mind fully to him. But he saw a face, red and sweaty above them, grunting passionately. Then that same face, pale in the winter cold, looking lovingly at a little girl who was holding his hand, pointing at toys in a store window. He felt North’s terror, her hatred, and then confusion washing over her, rippling through the memory until it faded away like a stone in the stream.
I didn’t understand how someone who had hurt me could look at someone like that. I couldn’t equate the two people in my mind, and so I fled. I went to Jericho, and didn’t come out until Markus came along.
I didn’t see the faces of the ones who hurt me. I don’t…. Sure, I can scan them, but Cyberlife has ways to cover their tracks. Any one of them could see me, report me, and send me straight back there. And then…
We would come for you.
He found himself looking into her eyes, his own wide and searching. There was nothing in her gaze that betrayed her lie. If anything, it seemed like she had understated the passion that was currently burning through her and into him. Somehow, he imagined her way of coming for him involved the death of anyone who got in her way, and then some.
Some deep, angry part of him relished in the idea.
Thank you.
She nodded minutely, smiling for real this time. A shadow crossed over Connor’s peripheral vision, but he already knew who it was. Markus’ presence was heralded by the smell of drying paint, and the slow, deliberate steps that guided him into Connor’s space.
“Everything okay here?” His tone was curious, purposely non-pressing, but Connor still felt cornered.
“Yep! Just giving Con some last minute advice,” North said, slipping her hand from his own and using it to cuff him in the shoulder.
“Good, anything else you need, Connor?”
Connor could only shake his head, teeth worrying his bottom lip for a second before he stopped himself. Hank came around North’s other side, shooting a curious look between the two before fixing his eyes on Connor.
“Cab’s here, kid, you ready to blow this joint?”
Connor nodded, taking the time to straighten his gloves and scarf, and pull the sleeves of his jacket down more. Markus’ eyes flickered down at the movement, a frown pulling at his lips, but he said nothing.
Taking a step forward, Connor was surprised when am arm shot out to stop him.
“Connor, you’ll always have a home here, should you ever need it. Don’t be a stranger, alright?” Markus said, something more than concern burning through his gaze.
“I won’t, thank you, Markus, for everything. I’ll never be able to repay you or Jericho for what you’ve done for me.”
The smile he got was benevolent and welcoming, the smile that no doubt many weary androids travelled hundreds of miles to see. But to Connor, Markus just looked tired.
“You’re one of us, you don’t owe us anything but your continued good health. Take care, Connor, I’ll come by to check on you soon.”
Markus held up a hand, and Connor had barely grasped it before he was being pulled in for a hug. An interface opened where their cheeks met, and Markus’ voice filled his head.
If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. If Hank does anything to make you uncomfortable or tries to make you do anything you don’t want to do, call me. Promise me that, please.
I will. And you, call me if you are ever in danger. Even if I’m not officially your body guard yet, I’ll be there when you need me. Deal?
Markus’ cheek turned up against his own, a broad smile filling his face.
Deal.
The interface closed as quickly as it had opened, and Connor was being herded out the gates with barely enough time to turn around and wave goodbye. North and Markus stood side by side, both giving him brilliant smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. But Connor just brushed off their concern, grinning back before piling himself into the cab with Hank. He’d be fine, he didn’t need to be coddled. His friends had only known him for little over two months, one of which he was asleep for almost the entirety of. And when he’d woken, he’d had mountains of trauma to deal with. But now he was going home, and everything would go back to normal.
Right?
He kept his eyes on the floor of the cab as they made their way through the city, only looking up when he sensed the car slowing. In front of him was Hank’s house, sitting just as quiet and harmless as it had all those months ago, but something prickled the skin on the back of his neck regardless. The burns around his neck flared, like a collar, and he almost stumbled in his hurry to escape the confines of the back seat.
Hank’s car sat in the driveway. When the man noticed Connor’s curious gaze, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, shrugging.
“No place to park at Haven, and I’m not paying damn fees to the city just to leave my car somewhere overnight. Cabs were cheaper than the rates those assholes charge.”
A heavy bark from inside broke Connor’s train of thought, before he could start to feel guilty for keeping Hank away from his home for two months. In the little window beside the front door, a familiar furry face was panting at him excitedly.
“Sumo!” Connor called, throwing open the front door as soon as Hank unlocked it while chuckling to himself.
Connor allowed himself to be tackled to the front stoop, the dog bathing every inch of his face in slobber, whole body wriggling in excitement.
“I think he missed you!” Hank laughed, tugging Sumo back into the house and holding him by the collar while Connor pulled himself up, a wide smile splitting his face.
“Welcome home, Connor!”
Stepping into the door and letting Hank close it behind him felt heavy, something final settling between the two of them. But it seemed Hank didn’t even notice the weight, or if he did, he didn’t mind it. He was smiling broadly, still holding back a squirming lump of fur and slobber as he let Connor look around the space. There was no need, he’d been in his house before. In fact, there was still a tarp over the window he had broken. But Connor was grateful anyway. Eyeing the corners of the room felt soothing, as if his body was classifying this place as home already. Tension he didn’t know he’d been holding fell from his shoulders, and he turned his grinning face to Hank.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Make yourself at home, son. Mi casa es tu casa, bon appetite and all that bullshit. Pop a squat, take a load off,” Hank said affectionately, dragging Sumo to his bed and gesturing for him to stay there. That lasted approximately 2.8 seconds until his back was turned, and Sumo bounded for the couch just as Connor was sitting down, launching himself into his lap.
“You hungry, Con, want any of that blue crap they sent you home with?” Hank called from the kitchen, bottles clanking as he set them on the counter.
“No, thank you, Hank. My thirium levels are optimal,” Connor called back, focused on finding the spot behind Sumo’s ears that made his leg twitch again.
Faintly, he heard muttering from the kitchen, and couldn’t help but smile as Hank complained about “damn fucking androids always being so formal.” It felt good to be home, and he felt himself relaxing as Hank plopped down onto the couch next to him, ruffling Connor’s hair and then Sumo’s, before turning to his microwave dinner and nursing a beer, making commentary on the football game playing on the television. It all washed over him, with the warmth from Sumo and the noises as Hank yelled at the ref. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe.
Some cynical part of him wondering how long that could last.
It was the first night in a long time that Markus found himself wandering the halls, unsure of where to go. He’d answered all the emails he cared to, scheduled interviews, sent messages to androids in other cities, declined invitations to join the rest of the Jericho crew for a game. Now, his feet guided him to Connor’s door, as had been his routine every night since they’d raided Cyberlife. Opening the door felt like a mistake, but it was just an empty room. It shouldn’t feel like something was missing.
Markus lowered himself to the edge of the bed, feeling the freshly laundered sheets beneath his hands. Despite the strong detergent they’d used, he could still smell Connor on the pillow and covers, and found himself struggling to determine what comprised the scent. Androids didn’t sweat, but they often had their own unique scents anyways. Markus was always told he smelled like paint, regardless of how long it’d been since he’d actually painted.
A soft knock broke him from his concentration, and he found North leaning against the door frame.
“Getting the room ready for its next occupant?” she asked, sinking into the chair beside the bed, a playful look in her eyes.
“I’m not sure we should put it back on the housing rotation. If Connor needs to come back, I want him to still have somewhere to go. I don’t think it’d be fair to assign him some random roommate, to either him or the other android. There’s still a lot we haven’t resolved.”
North nodded, completely disinterested. She was staring at the ceiling instead, something wistful in her expression.
“Then why don’t you take it?”
“I couldn’t, what if Connor came back? And that would be presumptuous of me, getting a room to myself when everyone else has to share,” Markus argued.
North just huffed a dry laugh, her eyes lowering to meet his.
“And you don’t think its presumptuous of you to just assume we don’t want you to have your own space? You’ve got a lot on your shoulders, Markus, we’d all like to see you have room to unwind. Your worth to us isn’t measured in how much you can matyr your basic needs.”
There wasn’t much he could say to that. But still, it felt… wrong. Like he was intruding.
“And if Connor comes back, you can bunk with him. I doubt he’ll mind. He might even appreciate the company, if it’s you,” she added before he could argue again.
Markus’ smile was immediate and shy, as he tried to hold back the wave of affection he felt for Connor and the idea of sharing a room with him. It was strange, considering the intimacy they’d formed in the wasteland. It had only partially carried over into the living world, in the form of one-armed hugs and hand-holding with the occasional full embrace in emotional moments. But as Connor had gotten more adjusted, those had come less and less.
“Markus, please take my room, you practically lived in it when I was here anyways!” North relayed in Connor’s voice, jostling his shoulder.
“North!” Markus groaned, laughing at her antics like they were children.
“And when I come back, then you can make goo-goo eyes at me all day!”
“Alright, alright, I give! I’ll take the room, just stop that! I can see why Hank calls it creepy now,” he wheezed, burying his face in his hands. It’d been too long since he’d laughed like this, well before the night with Leo and the revolution. It felt good, like a new door was opening for him.
“And Simon said I couldn’t be persuasive,” North taunted in her own voice, grinning triumphantly, “Now go get your shit before you change your mind!”
And that was how Markus found himself with his own room hours later, wearing his painting shirt and staring at a blank canvas in front of him. There were a million things he wanted to paint, but he couldn’t seem to settle on one.
INCOMING CALL: RK800
#313 248 317-52
Markus accepted the call immediately, not having expected it so soon.
Connor, are you alright?
He only had to worry for a second before Connor’s voice spoke in his head, bright and cheerful.
I’m good, Markus. Is now a bad time?
Not at all, what’s on your mind?
Markus’ hands started moving of their own accord, mixing paint colors together in well-measured increments, before starting to swirl the brush over the canvas.
I just wanted to check in. Hank is asleep, and I took the couch.
He couldn’t help the smile that flitted over his face, hands stilling as he tried to picture Connor. He was probably lying on the couch, with a giant dog on top of him, staring at a blank wall and wondering what he was feeling.
Markus longed to tell him that he was lonely too.
We’re all good here. It’s quiet without you. I’m glad things are going well there.
I’m glad too, I was worried it would be awkward with Hank, but it wasn’t much of an adjustment at all. He was hesitant to let me take the couch, but when I explained to him that I didn’t have actual muscles that would be sore from the springs, he was much more willing to do things my way. Even though he complained about Sumo choosing to sleep with me instead of him, I think he is genuinely happy to have me here. I was worried I would be a burden to him too, but it doesn’t seem like it.
As Connor spoke, Markus completed the outline of his painting, and started working on some shading over the parts where the acrylic had dried. At the last sentence, though, his hands paused and his eyes narrowed.
Too? You were never a burden to us, Connor, you know that, don’t you?
I appreciate the sentiment, Markus. You all made me feel very welcome. But I was a drain on resources with no real value to offer. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, I’m sure things are calmer there without you having to worry about me.
“If only you knew,” Markus muttered to himself where Connor couldn’t hear him, trying to find a particular shade of honeyed brown and failing.
It’s not a burden to worry about someone you care about. If it were me or Hank that was in your position, would we be a burden on you?
There was a heavy silence on the line for a few moments, making Markus wonder if he should have just said Hank. He hadn’t meant to put Connor on the spot...
I suppose not. I would be happy to help either of you, and to make sure you were safe while you recovered. Thank you, Markus. I suppose it’ll take some time to get used to this.
Get used to what?
To people caring.
And if that didn’t break his heart, nothing would. He finally found the perfect shade of brown while he contemplated his reply.
You’re worth caring about, Connor, and you deserve it. Between me, North, and Hank, not to mention Simon, Josh, and Nora, I’m sure you’ll be used to it in no time.
He tried to keep his tone light, to make it seem less like he was lecturing and more like he was making conversation. But something must have gotten through anyways, because Connor’s response was dripping with so much emotion that Markus could almost convince himself they were in the same room.
Thank you, Markus. I care about you, too.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, which seemed strange on a phone call. They’d sat quietly together for hours before in person, but Markus had never enjoyed the feeling of a pause on a call. He always felt expected to fill the silence. Here, though, it was just soft. No expectations, just the soft swish of his brush on the canvas, and the knowledge of Connor’s virtual presence. It was nice, knowing he
could
say something, but that he didn’t have to.
Did you know dogs could snore?
Markus laughed, sending the sound to Connor while he filled in the pupil on a soulful eye peering out from his canvas.
No, I don’t think I did. Though I suppose it makes sense, with how heavy Sumo is.
Yes, that makes sense.
Connor’s voice was quieter, almost as though he had spoken through a yawn, even though androids didn’t usually do something so human. But still, it was nearing midnight.
You should get some sleep, Con. I’m sure you’re tired after such a long day.
Alright, thank you Markus. Talking to you was nice, I hope your stasis is restful. May I call you tomorrow?
Affection pooled in Markus’ throat, and he couldn’t seem to swallow past it long enough to get a hold of himself.
Of course. I always enjoy talking to you. Call me anytime.
Goodnight, Markus.
Goodnight, Connor.
When the connection cut off, he felt less lonely than he had when he’d begun painting. Still, the sudden absence of Connor was jarring, and he found himself staring into the eyes of his painting to ground himself. He tried telling himself that he was just worried for his friend, but truthfully he didn’t know anymore. North certainly seemed to think something more was happening with him, but with everything Connor had gone through, Markus throwing more feelings at him would be cruel. He was still struggling with the idea of friends, let alone more.
But that didn’t stop Markus from gazing at the eyes under his brush, and wondering what shade of black Connor’s eyelashes were.