Warning: Language
Gen, Markus, Pacifist Ending, Look I Would Tag the Entire Cast If It Didn't Make the Tags Longer Than The Summary, I Love Gavin As Much I Do Simon Luther Elijah And Even Perkins, You Think I'm Kidding But Even a Roomba is Gonna Be In Here, THE ENTIRE CAST, Except Dead Ones, Nines Will Definitely Be Here, I Have A Lot of Love OK, This Is Already Too Long
Summary:
Luther and Kara raise Alice in Canada. Connor and Hank raise Sumo as detective father and son. Markus and the Jericho Three raise an android nation. Everyone is a little married.
In other words, I haven't seen the transition fic between the pacifist ending and Markus founding a new nation in Michigan that has the US's media and Canada's health care, so I wrote it. Markus is at the centre because robot messiah. This updates real-time sans for the fact that the year isn't 2038.
A/N: As with all my fics, this is crossposted on FFN. I warn you that my writing style often slips into archaic structures because what I read influences how I write. Is this continuation unrealistic and indulgent? Yes.
I wholeheartedly admit I know nothing of logistics, politics, Michigan, Canada, or the Vatican.
Yeah, this is gonna be wild.
Chapter: Nov 12, 2038. Morning.
Markus watched with a critical eye the approach of the negotiator he had briefly yet memorably encountered between a barrier and the force of the US Army just minutes before. The federal agent intruded the safe bubble that was the air around Markus - and the thousands that comprised the last known living androids in the US - not with a confidence from the dense presence of soldiers beyond who would protect the agent, but with a begrudging confidence that nothing short of a revised order from his superiors could stop him.
The agent appeared displeased, but he rarely appeared much beyond an apathy so firm that it strained against his skin. Like his confidence, his displeasure burned cold.
Markus allowed the man to work his way up the icy platform for a level ground with the android leader, who waved North and Simon aside as the intruder - Agent Perkins - halted only once he was within breathing proximity of Markus. Perkins masked his lips' movements like a footballer before a free kick under televised scrutiny; he spoke behind a raised arm - and hand, when their weights would shift between legs in a balance of shoulder space and perceived propriety. Markus would refrain from pointing out Perkins's unconscious recognition of Markus's sentience until a later exchange. He considered also concealing his lips from possible cameras pointed his way, but concluded he would regret none of his words as he had not so far.
"President Warren expresses an urgent desire to meet with the deviant leader face-to-face," Perkins muttered. "I'm encouraged to forward more formalities, but not commanded to, so I'm cutting the crap in favour of establishing order over this mess."
Markus blinked as if he had been slapped. The President wanted to meet now? When the android genocide had just recently been cut short?
"We are of same mind, then," Markus replied diplomatically. "My people and I require shelter-"
"I'm getting there," Perkins cut in impatiently. "The army," he waved back with his free arm, "can transport the thousands of you in trips to any location we can agree on within fifteen miles of here. The location cannot fall within residential or private property."
"My people and I won't feel comfortable in military transports to any location," Markus stated, recalling concentration camps. "We can drive autonomous vehicles just fine. CyberLife must have many an inactive number for the next several weeks, considering the revolution."
"Considering the revolution," Perkins returned sourly, "nothing of CyberLife's is the government's to command. Even inactive vehicles." He paused. "Unless you wish to steal them."
Markus frowned, but in the time the corner of his lips moved, his processors identified a loophole. "We'll take the damaged and thus decommissioned vehicles, then. Since our shelter is a federal concern, I may assume that resources into my people's direct good health and safety are exempt from the distinctions between relocation and theft? In such case, we'll also take thirium supplies and the materials needed to repair ourselves and the vehicles. A helping hand from the army would also be appreciated."
"You're slow to compromise and fast to make demands," Perkins muttered. "Your supplies will arrive by sunrise, but we have no agreed location yet."
"The pier warehouses in Ferndale," Markus offered. "The property has been marked abandoned beyond any private lease."
"Your ship is still sinking in her waters," Perkins commented.
"With the government's cooperation, we won't have to return to the ship," Markus swiftly replied.
"Ferndale," Perkins confirmed flatly. "Fine."
"The supplies the army will provide must account for a greater number than those who stand before you," Markus added. "We intend to comb the streets for our injured or lost we may still save."
"My immediate orders concern the shelter and recovery of the deviants present, not elsewhere," Perkins dismissed. "The US Army will aid in no search."
"Then I'll comb the streets myself."
Perkin's eyes flashed. "Until you meet the President, your safety is paramount." They both knew that Markus knew. Perkins lowered the hand over his mouth for his walkie, exposing his full face to the winter air. "You'll remain with your people, as your place should be. Nowhere else."
Perkins angrily pivoted for the stairs before Markus could challenge or dissect his words, and rose his walkie to his lips once safely hidden by crowded android heads from possible camera views. Markus sincerely hoped that they would never meet again.
Connor stepped closer to Markus.
"CyberLife's major plants have androids like the ones I brought to you," Connor informed, "only with cores yet installed. The company had hoped to return to production once the revolution passed, but with this course of events, the unborn might someday join Jericho, once settled."
Markus's head spun with the onslaught of priorities. He couldn't process much beyond the immediate need of seeking shelter for his people.
"For now," Connor amended, "I bring you the news that CyberLife Tower offers safety to you as the warehouses of Ferndale do. You may find further supplies there. Markus," his tone softened, "I know not what Agent Perkins shared with you until this point, but besides the unborn, the entirety of the android nation are these few thousands. Act as you will with this full knowledge. I support you in spirit."
"But you have elsewhere to be," Markus acknowledged, and the edges of his lips curved in a rare if small smile. This he was familiar with: deviant behaviour. "Go. You have done plenty, and your spirit is enough for me."
Connor hesitated, and then firmly grasped Markus's shoulder. "I've erred before, thinking you would make a fine leader when we first met. I know now that you already are."
The action felt solid, intimate, and non-intrusive without contact between exposed skin where memories could transfer, and Markus knew that the action wasn't Connor's. At least, the former deviant hunter had not picked it up from an android.
Connor left the platform as Markus shared with his people before him the news of shelter and supplies, and true to Perkins's begrudging word, vehicles, tools, and supplies arrived just before astronomical sunrise. Seven hours had passed by then, in which Markus and the remnants of Jericho saw to the state of their injured and updated the thousands from the Tower on what to expect as a deviant, forewarning that error messages about software instability were not errors at all. Even so, seven hours were not enough to convey the intricacies of self-awareness where philosophers ages ago had devoted years, and transportation to promised shelter couldn't arrive sooner.
The US Army and the androids constructed quite the image throughout the entire effort: two figures leaning into each other as they walked, one with a model number on its back and another with a rifle; hands of the same skin colour - some patched plastic-white - passing wrenches as an android's leg came together; and clusters of people pushing vehicles through snow until the tires could find a grip, then seeing off another departure for Ferndale. The foremost picture would grace screens and cover pages around the world as humanity finally felt an impact.
The photos would convey a softness in the midst of horror that the subjects of the shots mostly missed in the moment. The soldiers had been the androids' enemies just hours ago, responsible for snuffing out lives before the androids' eyes and sometimes within their arms - a friend dragged too late behind cover, a stranger whose death still cut because they wore an identical face - and what cameras couldn't capture was the tense atmosphere. Markus's presence appeared to soothe the Jericho survivors present, and their departures for Ferndale were each a difficult one with most of them pleading for Markus to travel with them, so that they might feel safe in the same vehicle as someone who trusted the humans.
Markus was last to leave Hart Plaza - North at the wheel - and he watched the plaza's barricades, military vehicles, and distant press presence fade out of sight under the blinding curtain of daybreak. The world was bathed in gold, and the android leader bearing the weight of his people on his shoulders slowly, finally fell away to sleep.
X
The house that Rose's brother lived in sat square and grey with navy shutters and white panes. The Star Wars mailbox stood unmistakable, and Luther, Kara, and Alice waddled through the feet-tall snow packing the neighborhood and streets for the marker, with snow in the wrinkles of their clothing and smiles on their faces. Kara slid a key in the front door and struggled to nudge the door free before a tall, lanky man suddenly pulled it wide open and immediately shivered.
"You're early risers," he remarked as they stomped their boots on the welcome mat and stepped in.
"We didn't mean to wake you, Jared," Kara apologised and returned the key. "Alice saw how the snow had piled up overnight and wanted to play."
Luther helped Alice further into the house with removing her boots, and the sight warmed Kara more than the house's constant heater. Rose's brother barely had any padding on him - a trait inherited from a grandparent on their mother's side - and it made him vulnerable to the cold climate of his home. Vigilantly allowing deviants into his house at odd hours of the night and helping them find their own places while balancing his work likely helped little with his constitution.
Jared closed the door and grabbed a cardigan from a nearby hook without looking. "I should get to making that spare key, actually." He slid the cardigan on with the ease of one who had to wear layers on a whim before. "This house is as much yours as it is mine, and the little one should have all the fun she can. It's Friday."
"Have you any plans?" Kara followed Jared to the kitchen.
"Meet with a client." Jared poured a mug of cocoa. "Check on the manufacturers. I expect to finish early today, though, so if you want help looking for that teaching position…."
"No, no, I can function on my own," Kara assured. "If your contact is as reliable as you say, then I have full confidence I can find a school to accept me." As a domestic android with versatile functions between managing a house of one adult and a house of a full family, Kara had the ability to fall back on ingrained knowledge concerning children of all ages. She personally leaned toward an elementary school position out of her honest experience caring for and loving Alice. She also knew how to placate volatile parents short of a murderous streak, no thanks to Todd.
"My contact's good," Jared confirmed, handing over bound bills and a piece of plastic, "but if he demands more money from you, don't bother negotiating it down and just use my card. Lando has who knows how many other deviants relying on him to slide under the radar, and he needs all the help he can find. To speak frankly, a locksmith like me shouldn't have the money to afford him, yet he and I share an underground connection anyway."
"Lando," Kara echoed, adding the name to the address Jared had shared with her last night. "I don't suppose he has a Star Wars mailbox, too?"
"You didn't tell me you had wit," Jared teased.
Kara and Luther agreed that they would alternate in their search for jobs and living spaces so that one of them could keep Alice by their side, and that day Kara would look for a teaching position while Luther and Alice surveyed condos and apartments together, unwilling to rely on Jared's further charity to afford a house. The three of them would happily live in any shared space, but a picket fence house was part of their picturesque dream to live peacefully.
Lando and Jared said nothing, but when Kara left the house before Jared and met with Lando at the bar seats of a fine brunch restaurant, she wondered if Lando was Canada's Elijah Kamski.
Lando hardly batted an eye at buying him and Kara artesian spring water while he continued to work through a salad and wiped his mouth with hemstitched napkins probably more expensive than his meal. The water was poured from a sleek bottle and into crystal glasses. Kara felt her leather jacket and glanced around.
"Easy," Lando chuckled like their spring water. "I meet with clients in different states of dress all the time. At this point, no one will blink twice at you."
"How do you not attract attention?" Kara asked, and tellingly glanced down at Lando's clothing. In bold colours yet sleek cuts that framed his long legs well, he perhaps deserved the question's opposite.
"Anyone curious thinks me a serial dater."
Kara spluttered into her expensive water. "How many deviants have you helped!" Kara whispered.
Lando met eyes with the barista far down the bar with a grin as if to say, Isn't she cute? He looked back at her. "More importantly, my dear, I believe you have others relying on you. My clients who seek the work you want usually have a fondness for such responsibilities."
"And?" Kara prodded.
"I rarely give them the in," Lando curtly answered. "Regardless of academic logic, they lack the practice or resourcefulness to actively meet complex child behaviour in a setting where parents will hold them responsible for any perceived wrongs. You are no longer an appliance in Canada. Your faults are now your own."
"I know." Kara had lived it. "My Alice…I've fled an abusive house and walked past border patrols with her. I've - I've been a bad mother." Kara suddenly felt her heart twist. "When I saw another of our family under the barrel of a gun, I interceded for him even when I had Alice as a priority. A mother should never endanger her child."
Lando watched Kara with unreadable, piercing eyes. He hummed. "You're straight from Detroit."
"Yes?" Kara stammered.
"Then you're steelier a mother than anyone else I've met." Lando grinned. "You have yourself an identity and the documented work experience necessary to pick up a job."
He leaned in to kiss Kara on the cheek, and a manila envelope slipped from his inner jacket to hers, which she held tight, and she slipped him the bound bills Jared had handed her. When Lando leaned back, they were both smiling.
"Send your husband my way, I'd love to meet him too."
"Thank you, Lando."
"Of course, my dear."
By the time Kara returned to Jared's house, she had an interview for Theswill Elementary Grade 4, and Luther and Alice had five condos circled on their paper. The three of them joyfully compared their day and shared plans on how they'd spend tomorrow. While androids didn't need to ingest substances, Kara encouraged Luther to sip the water Lando would order if they met in the same place, as the spring water was as refreshing as it was undoubtedly expensive. Rejecting a glass would also be rude to Lando. Kara mostly emphasised the joy of taste when she spoke.
"Jared will have to make an appointment, but if he gives you the same time and place, I recommend at least tasting the water," Kara excitedly shared. "I don't know how the salad is, but that might be interesting as well."
"Sure." Luther held Kara and Alice closely with his characteristically small yet no less expressive smile. He was the type who burned of starlight rather than sunlight: outwardly mellow yet as deeply passionate as anyone else.
Alice tugged them to the couch, where they snuggled together and Alice held a pencil and the housing papers in her hands as if to behave as responsible as the adults. "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up, but Luther says he's interested in a job that will let him come home the same time you do, Kara."
Said androids touched hands. "I looked at the salary rates for the position I'm interviewing for," Kara murmured. "You don't have to if you don't want to."
"I wish to help however I may," Luther replied. "The two of you have shown me joy. I want to be a part of this family as much as I can."
"Alright," Kara accepted, and stroked Alice's head. "Have you two found a place you liked, yet?"
Alice pointed to her favourite of the ones circled and shared how she could already see whose rooms would sit where and how they could sit around a small table the perfect size for the three of them. They didn't need a dining table except to do paperwork on, maybe, but she grasped the idea and partial necessity of blending in.
"We can sell the fridge there for a smaller one, though," Alice commented, and suddenly quieted.
Luther laid a reassuring hand on her own holding the pencil, able to hear her thoughts clearly.
"We will figure out the thirium and repair tools," Kara said. "Jared and Lando likely have people who move more than androids between US-Canadian borders. You don't have to worry, Alice."
"We need to blend in," Alice pointed out. "Maybe…we need two fridges, a big one filled up with food and a hidden one filled with thirium. I'll have to grow older."
"Only if you want to. We'll go as slow as you want," Kara assured. "CyberLife still has the growth programs and models in places Jared's people can reach, and the mental transference is seamless. Everything's waiting for you whenever you're ready. I confess I still want to be able to hold you like this."
Alice gripped Kara's shirt. "What if you won't like me?"
Kara's gaze dipped down to Alice, surprised and concerned. "Why would you think that?"
"You want to teach to kids my age," Alice's voice softened. "When I want to grow up, I won't look like them anymore."
"Oh, Alice." Kara sighed into her hair and held her closer. Luther enveloped them in a hug that lifted them into his lap entirely, a silent pillar. "Nothing you can do will make me love you less than I do now and forever. I have a desire to teach because of you."
"I found a family because of you," Luther added warmly.
"Don't you see?" Kara gently smiled. "You are the centre of our lives. Whether you look big or small, you are our Alice."
Alice had heard Jared's mother call him on the phone once, answering his exasperation with how he'd always be her baby boy. Alice's eyes crinkled with innocent delight at the parallel, and she snuggled between her parents. "I love you too, mom and dad."
Luther and Kara shared twin expressions over Alice's head, unsurprised with what they had wordlessly come to accept, but as warm as Alice felt in acknowledging it. They leaned into each other, Kara's head in the crook of Luther's neck and shoulder.
"We love you too, little one."
X
Connor found Hank pacing in front of Chicken Feed, stalling, then pacing again, until at the sight of Connor strolling down the sidewalk Hank stilled and stepped forward. Time sped up until the instant their arms closed around each other, fuller and firmer than a hand on the shoulder, and Connor selfishly decided he'd keep the action between him and Hank.
A number of wordless things passed through their first and long-awaited embrace. It was as if they had begun a confession in the Tower that they were finishing in that moment.
"I saw you on TV," Hank muttered over his shoulder.
"You're uninjured."
"What?"
"I scanned you in CyberLife Tower," Connor informed, "after the altercation with RK900, but I lacked the time to run a more thorough scan. You're uninjured."
Hank huffed, parting from Connor to look at him. "Grey as I am, I can handle your taller, ruder counterpart."
"He disarmed you in a second?"
"Three," Hank grudgingly admitted. "He also has a mean armhold. But I'll show him! No way that plastic prick's winning a second time."
Connor critically analysed their surroundings, suddenly aware of a certain model's absence. "I know RK900 walked you out of the Tower, but where did he head afterwards?"
"Back in," Hank dismissed. "Probably to harass more alcoholics."
"You aren't an alcoholic anymore, Lt. Anderson," Connor innocently corrected. "You have me."
"Not this again."
"Hank," Connor suddenly said, forward yet uncertain. "I want to see Sumo."
"You gonna give him a diet, too? 'Cause I've tried." Hank's brow lifted.
"No, Sumo will eat the best dog food I can scan," Connor replied easily. "I just want to see him. I want to return to the station with you, and bar you from eating at Chicken Feed too often, and walk with you back home." His voice softened. "I want to go home."
Hank turned with a huff. "We aren't walking there."
Connor perked up.
"And we can't buy Sumo anything nice until after my next paycheck," Hank loudly sent over his shoulder as he walked, "because I doubt the county plans to reimburse me for all those 'sources' you made me rent in the Eden Club. I also already ate from Chicken Feed before Gary closed it and left, because I've been up overnight through the late morning, and I still have work in an hour."
"We have work in an hour." Connor jogged to Hank's car and fixed his tie. "Not to worry, Lieutenant Anderson. I will speak to Captain Fowler and the appropriate officials concerning our pay when we arrive, and we might sooner afford Sumo the food he deserves."
Connor negotiated a pay equal to Hank's. Of course he did.
The station was half empty of officers and half-full with ringing phones, so Fowler was eager to rid them from his office. With the midnight conclusion of what the media already labelled the Battle For Detroit, the DCPD's presence, perspective, and assistance was required between the US Army currently active in Detroit, state and county officials demanding updates on Detroit's status, and locals who couldn't distinguish between a common BNE or a stray android searching for "medical" help. Oddly enough, many of the calls regarding the lattermost expressed concern for the androids' wellbeing. Civilians just didn't know how to convince a former enemy of the state that they meant no harm.
There was also the matter of getting through to CyberLife to have Rupert in the precinct basement repaired, because even the best tools couldn't return an android his nose. CyberLife was predictably as silent as a graveyard most of the time it was contacted, and when someone did brave the company's inbox, they usually mass-sent a message sharing that the company had a long queue of demands and thanking everyone for their patience.
Even with his face and his vocal processors damaged, Rupert had been able to very clearly express his distaste of sharing the same room with Connor. Rupert had the most impressive fuck off look Hank had seen. An officer ended up driving Rupert to the android settlement in Ferndale. He'd have better luck receiving the care he needed there, since Markus's group was highest on the repair tools priority list. Ferndale and DCPD just needed to maintain contact since Rupert was still guilty of small-time theft, but with the precinct's current workload, he was far from their scope of focus.
In other words, half the DCPD was running around the city multitasking, and they rotated with the other half at the station sitting at their desk with comatose faces until the cycle started again.
Hank and Connor were thus demanded in several places at once, as an android face seemed to placate the rare deviant who had survived the Battle. Most of the BNE perps ended up being androids who had escaped the landfills and required immediate medical attention else they'd terminate. By the time Hank and Connor had a moment's peace, they expressed to Fowler that for the good of the DCPD as a whole, the station needed an android medical-cum-repair contact or - according to Hank's temper - a hundred.
Fowler told them he was working on it.
He was also working on a hundred things, so can it, Hank, or the pair's next task would take them to the other side of town.
Connor smiled with his usual tranquility between navigating traffic for the next 911, and when asked, he'd look at Hank - irritated, or bored, or thirsty for a drink - and admit with unquestionable honesty,
"This is fun."
A/N: Everyone's parts, especially Connor's and Hank's, are actually longer than depicted here, but I had to split this chapter up. I don't want to bore anyone with 10k words of fluff and occasional Serious Stuff straight out the door. Did you know novel chapters are at most 5k words? I'm trying to be organised here. I'm also researching mountain loads because there is so much stuff in this. What have I done.
Next release at Nov 12; 1400 EDT.
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