Chapter Text
"I know I'm not made in your likeness
You're not made for my darkness
I know I'm not made in your likeness
I do try but I'm hopeless"
In Your Likeness by Woodkid
K closed his eyes, knowing that it would be for the last time.
He had made his peace with it. A part of him was glad that it's over and welcomed the silence.
Snowflakes settled on his face. Like weightless kisses made of coldness, they soothed his aches.
As he took his last, shallow breaths, a sudden shout interrupted the tranquility.
"Rocky! Come here and help me!"
Why does this voice sound like my own? K thought to himself.
Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and gave him a shake. He wanted to complain, but all he could manage was a moan. The hands examined him, pulled his coat open, and the pain intensified when somebody touched his wounds.
"Oh shoot! No, no, no, no, no! Don't you dare die on me!" his 'own' voice pleaded with him. Then it yelled at someone else, "Get Adrian! Hurry!"
The hands moved his body, but the silky darkness of unconsciousness swallowed him before he could understand what was happening to him.
◅◁◈▷▻
When he came to, he realized he was no longer lying on the steps. A quick look around told him somebody had put him on a cot in the corner of a dim, windowless room. He felt oddly warm and comfortable. As he inspected his body, he noticed his wounds had been attended to and bandaged. Also, somebody must have given him medication because he felt floaty and free of pain. For a second, he reveled in the feeling of weightlessness before he forced himself to take in his surroundings: In the spotlight of a lamp on the other side of the room sat three people around a table. All three of them were in their late thirties and talked in a hushed tone of voice, probably so they wouldn't wake him.
"Rocky was incorrect. Rocky no like earth. Everything is dirty dirty dirty and people are mean mean mean!" a man in olive-green coveralls said.
"Rocky, my love, you know what we decided," the second person said. K can't pinpoint their gender, and neither the silhouette of their body nor their voice gave him any helpful information. "While we remain on Earth, no one must learn our identities or origins. So, we try to blend in. That means we use correct English grammar when we are speaking."
The man in green (Rocky?) said nothing in return, but he hunched down at the table and put his chin in his hands.
"Rocky's right…" the third person said. He sat with his back towards K, so he couldn't see the man's face, but he was the one whose voice sounded like K's. With both hands, he combed through the mob of dark blond hair and sat up, hands now at the back of his head. "I want to go home. Coming here was a stupid idea."
He sounded so sad. Why did he sound so sad?
The androgynous person turned to him and took one of his hands in theirs, and he let the other hand sink down back to the table. "Grace, my love, we can't just walk away – there must be something we can do."
"Yeah, I don't know, Adrian… This is a bit outside our wheelhouse, don't you think? We're scientists; how are we supposed to fix… this! …and besides, what difference can three people really make?"
His voice was breaking, and K heard a sniff. The man brought his free hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes.
They (Adrian?) looked at the man (Grace?) with so much love that K couldn't help but feel jealous. Only one person had ever looked at him that way – Joi... No, best not dwell on that. The pain still ran too deep.
The person named Adrian got up from their chair and hugged the man named Grace. With a sob, he clung to them and cried in earnest. Now the other man, named Rocky, reached out to stroke Grace's back.
It took a while for Grace to calm down, but the other two waited patiently for him to collect himself.
"I know it's difficult, but we have to get back to business," Adrian said after a moment. "So… our patient was in a pretty terrible state and had suffered severe internal injuries. Just a little later and I wouldn't have been able to help him."
"But Adrian fix!"
"Yes, Rocky, I did what I could." Adrian took a deep breath and leaned back in their chair. "He's tough. I'm certain he'll make it."
"I guess he's a Nexus 9 model built for law enforcement, that means enhanced strength, agility, and stamina," Grace said. His voice gave away that he had been crying.
"Probably right, but that doesn't mean that he's invincible… or doesn't feel pain. He might be built stronger and more durable, but when you boil it down, he is still a squishy human."
Rock sighed. "I don't get it – why create sentient life just to let it suffer so much?"
Nobody had an answer to that, and a heavy silence settled over the group.
K's eyes drooped. He was still so tired that no matter how hard he tried to stay awake, sleep soon claimed him once more.
◅◁◈▷▻
The next time K woke up, his head felt a lot clearer. He opened his eyes as someone wiped his forehead with a damp cloth. With a gasp, he tried to escape the touch, but an unexpectedly firm hand came up to keep his head in place.
"Shhh… pretty boy, you're safe. No one will harm you here," Adrian rubbed their thumb tenderly over his cheek, while their other hand dabbed the sweat from his face. "Don't worry. You sleep, we watch."
K had no chance to ponder the weird phrasing. His eyes fell shut, and he slipped back to sleep.