Chapter Text
Marcus slowly opens his eyes and the first thing he notices is that he’s not in a million mechanical pieces, crushed into oblivion by the debris.
The second thing he notices is that he’s restrained.
Looking down at his arm, it seems to be held back by some kind of metal cable wrapped around his upper arms. Obviously, his immediate course of action is to break out.
This should be easy. He has super strength, after all.
He goes to pull his arms free and…
Nothing happens.
It’s a little humiliating, the rush of panic that immediately courses through him but, surely, he just didn’t pull hard enough. So he does it again. Still nothing.
His power source thrums worriedly in his chest. Fine. It’s fine. This isn’t a big deal. There are plenty of other ways to break out of simple cables. It’s at this point he actually inspects his arm closer, and notices the lower half of his arm is mechanical. It’s an awkward fix, clearly whoever or whatever had patched him up wasn’t finished yet.
It’s a little gross, the synth-skin only reaching down to his elbow before it gives away to nothing but an android skeleton but- again, not a big deal. Marcus has seen his own android skeleton before- this isn’t anything new. The more pressing matter is who is trying to fix him.
“Marcus, look out!”
He’d barely had time to react. He’d thought he was a goner for sure but, no, here he is, still active, still functional… still…
It’s at this point it finally dawns on him where he is. He knows the machinery, the walls, the capsules, the table, the digital screens, he’s seen it all before.
He’s in Davenport’s lab.
It doesn’t immediately process at first, for awhile he just sits there, not quite believing that what he’s seeing are his actual surroundings. Is he glitching? Is he hallucinating? Is this the afterlife for androids? Is this hell?
He must have said the last part out loud because a high-pitched voice responds to his query with, “Nope, but sometimes it sure does feel like it!”
Marcus turns his head at all angles, desperately trying to pinpoint the source of the voice, but there's no one around. Not a soul in sight. Is he starting to hear things?
“Over here!”
It’s at this point he finally realizes where the voice is coming from- some… thing in the wall. A small screen with an emoticon is within his sight, and is clearly the source of the voice. He has to squint a little with it being over on the other side of the lab, but he’s sure he isn’t mistaken. Their home security system. A pretty incompetent one, from
what he’d seen so far. It had been laughably easy to break into the lab. It was almost like the security system hadn’t even cared there’d been a breach in, you know, security.
He had a million questions, most of which he’s having trouble articulating because his mind is racing at the speed of light in an attempt to even process this scenario, but he settles on a simple,
“Why am I here?”
“Pretty simple. Cause Donnie ‘felt bad.’ His words are not mine! Didn’t do the most precise job though, don’t look down if you don’t wanna see your left leg put back together with duct tape. He was kinda rushing through putting you back together.”
Because he felt bad. Felt bad. How laughable. Marcus absentmindedly yanks himself forward, feeling the cables yank but not give away.
“I wouldn’t bother! He took out your bionics hours ago.”
Marcus quits his struggling, his entire body stilling. He did what? Took out his bionics? Just like that? Like flipping a switch? Suddenly just- no more bionics?
His bionics had been with him from the moment he’d been created. They were the reason he was able to carry himself confidently through his many endeavours with no worries. He would always be able to defeat his opponent- always.
Although.
His mind flashes back for a moment, when energy had coiled and circled it’s way around Adam’s body, seemingly flowing through him, before bursting outwards in every direction.
In that moment, he felt as if all his internal systems had momentarily shut down- and as if a strong electrical shock had been delivered to his power source. But in that moment it hadn’t been the most important thing- the most important thing had been winning the fight. So his systems had quickly rebooted themselves as fast as they could as he stood up in a last ditch effort, to save the fight, to do what he was made to do-
Then the rubble had fallen down on him. Now he’s here.
Donald Davenport must have been an even stupider man than he’d been led to believe, to attempt to do something like this. Because he felt bad.
Marcus was having a hard time believing that. His processors raced with different possibilities, trying to calculate what exactly the man would even want with him. Taking him here. Removing his bionics. Leaving him defenseless.
What could possibly be his end goal in all this? What was he hoping to achieve?
Marcus supposed he could grill the thing in the wall for more answers, but he had a suspicion he had already told him everything he knew about the situation. Or at least, everything he thought he knew.
Whatever. He’d only been active for a couple minutes and his systems were already starting to lag and slow down. When he feels his eyelids starting to slip shut, he tries to stay awake just a little longer, but he can already feel himself going into recharge mode.
Which is going to be a bit more difficult considering he’s subsisting off a battery and doesn’t have his capsule.
His last thought before everything around him goes dark is that he needs to construct a plan in order to deal with what’s going.
Once he figures out what’s even going on.
—
—
Marcus can hear people talking around him.
It’s one of the perks of being an android- being entirely aware of your surroundings even when outwardly you appear to be asleep.
It’s a feature he’d been installed with just in case of unforeseen attacks when one's guard is down. Even when he’s recharging his thermal scanner is aware of the presence of humans near him, and an internal alarm is set that will go off if they get too close.
They’re very much way too close, standing only six feet away from him. He thinks to himself how stupid they are for getting so close. His thermal scan reveals one of the humans nearby is Leo.
I could pulverize you. he thinks, before remembering his current lack of bionics and groaning internally.
This really sucks.
“Big-D, what were you thinking bringing him back here?” Leo says incredulously, and for once Marcus has to agree with him on something. He is also wondering about the answer to that question.
Donald sighs, like he doesn’t quite know what to say, and Marcus’s thermal scanner indicates movement, like he’s running his hand through his hair.
“I’m not asking any of you to trust him, or like him, or even have to be around him. Him being in the lab is just a temporary situation.” Another sigh. “I’m repairing him because it seems to me that he’s just as sentient as any one of you.
I’m not saying I trust Marcus, he was made by Douglas of all people, but… he’s your guy’s age. If it was any one of you, the idea of any one of you being left to die somewhere…”
“Yeah, except the main difference between him and us is that we aren’t evil lunatics!” Marcus’s thermal scanner is indicating movement again, fast blurs indicating Leo is waving his arms around.
“I mean if you wanted to bring him back that badly you coulda just taken his parts and turned into him a non-threatening toaster or something! Or maybe a coffee machine!”
In his head, Marcus visualizes kicking Leo down a flight of stairs.
“Listen, Leo, the situation is only temporary, I promise. He’s only here while I repair him and after that’s done… we decide what to do from there. I was acting a bit impulsively. I won't lie to you, it was a rash decision. I’m working as fast as I can. All I ask is that you stay calm and stay awake from Marcus, for your own safety.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice.”
If Marcus was active, he’d grin at the fact that even without his bionics he still is enough of a threat that the warning is needed.
There’s the sound of footsteps, and Leo is on his way out of the lab, power-walking at a brisk pace, muttering under his breath about, “how freaked out Adam, Bree and Chase are going to be about this…”
There’s more movement and someone is walking towards him, with a tool in hand. Probably on his way to continue his repairs. This seems like the perfect moment for his eyes to suddenly snap
open and for him to jerk his body forward as if he’s about to lunge at Davenport.
Not that he could, being restrained and all, but. The thought is nice.
Donald startles at the sight, which makes a sense of satisfaction swell inside Marcus’s chest cavity. The scientist had practically leaped backwards, he was so surprised.
“You’re awake.” he states, obviously attempting to keep his voice unreadable despite how clearly nervous and apprehensive it sounds.
“Yeah. I am.” Marcus affirms sarcastically because what else would be, “And I have some questions for you.”
“And I’ll try to answer those questions to the… best of my ability.”
Donald must be relieved that Marcus is seemingly acting somewhat calm about the situation, and he continues to walk forward, reaching out towards Marcus’s arm, the one that’s lacking synth-skin from the elbow down. For some reason this makes Marcus unreasonably mad.
He isn’t calm about the situation. What’s going on right now is absolute insanity. How dare he act like Marcus suddenly just isn’t a threat anymore? He leans forward as if he’s about to attack, and then remembers- yet again, because it keeps slipping his mind- no abilities.
He desperately wishes he had his biconics. Speaking of which- he almost asks, “Why did you take out my bionics?” as his question before stopping himself. He knows why Davenport took out his biconics.
“What are you hoping to achieve with this?”
“Honestly?” Donald sighs, as he begins to work on Marcus’s arm- which makes him think about how easy it would be to throw him across the room if he just had his super strength- working carefully with the wiring and metal as not to damage it further. “I don’t know. It’s not exactly as if we could turn you over the police- they might ask questions.
Also, unleashing you to regular human society feels like a mistake we probably shouldn’t make. But…”
He makes an annoyed noise, like what he’s about to say is aggravating to even state. “As horrible and evil as he is… Douglas is still my brother. And you’re his creation. So that almost kind of makes you like my…”
He squints, clearly trying to find the right word.
“Nephew?…. Sure, let’s go with that. An evil, messed up, nephew.”
Even though the logic is sound- the idea of being related to Donald of all people makes him want to throw up, and he internally fake-gags at the idea.
“I couldn’t just leave you there. God. Against all my better judgement, I couldn’t just… leave you there.”
Marcus grins a little. The Davenport family is full of a bunch of softies. Maybe if he played his cards right, acted the right way, wormed his way into being trusted by them again-
“But you need to know this.”
Marcus suddenly remembers that the expression he’s making is actually visible to the world and stops. He meets Davenport’s gaze, which had turned into a hard, unforgiving glare.
“You hurt my kids. Badly. And even though you’re here, right now. At any time.” He grips the arm he’s repairing more tightly as he’s working on it.
Marcus can’t feel pain, not in the traditional human sense, but the sensation of solid pressure being applied to the metal and wires in his arm is, well, it’s not exactly pleasant.
“At any time that could change- and the second, you get the idea of hurting them again-“
Davenport leans forward, so that their faces are level with one another.
“You’re out of here. Understand?”
Marcus feels indignant. Why is he the one being bossed around by Donald Davenport of all people? Him! He’d been laughably easy to capture, they’d been able to overpower him in seconds.
His power source stutters and throbs- like the energy humming in it was sinking in and out.
Dragging him away to their lair had been a cakewalk. There was no one in the universe who Marcus was less afraid of than Donald Davenport.
Back when he still had his bionics.
Right now, he suddenly feels weak- and it’s making him mad. He wants to yell, he wants to punch Davenport across the face, he wants to blast him away with an energy blast and smile as defeating him takes no effort, he wants to lunge forward and do something-
But he can’t. He’s restrained, and he has no bionics. It pains him to admit but at this point he’s basically just a hunk of metal, at least until he gets his bionics back- which he will.
He wants desperately to think that even without his biconics, he could take all of them on and bust out here and then he’ll- he’ll… well, he hasn’t actually thought that far ahead, but this is just humiliating!
For some reason his power source is still stuttering, almost as if it’s struggling to sustain itself, which… he’s had problems with his power source before but none had ever been this consistent. He feels faint, as if his systems are about to shut down, which he can’t do, because that would make this situation ten times more humiliating than it already is!
Donald is still staring at him, his eyes hard. He hasn’t let go of Marcus’s arm. He doesn’t actually have a clue how much time has passed- it seems to have just been a couple seconds but it feels like hours.
“Understand?”
Marcus glares as hard as he can. It’s humiliating, he feels like a petulant child, where all he can do is simply silently try to explode Davenport’s head with his mind through sheer force of will- to no effect. He tries to instill his gaze with as much fire as he can, which doesn’t seem to be doing anything for him or Donald.
The man’s expression is still firm and unmoving and Marcus still feels as if his power source is about to give out for some reason. He still feels faint, so he simply gives a nod after what feels like an eternity of not wanting to admit defeat.
Davenport’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, then-
And then Marcus blacks out.