A/N: I like Simon. I feel like he got shortchanged in the game.
Tags: Good Ending Run, Simon's Injured But Alive, Missing Scene, Before Simon Returns to Jericho, One Shot
"Clampdown"
Simon sat against the air cooler unit, the gun loose in the palm of his hand before he lifted the back of his shirt, tucking the weapon into the small of his back. The last of the police had left a half hour ago and it was only now that he felt comfortable enough to stay out in the open. Simon struggled to his feet, limping his way across the roof. Snowflakes suffused the air, frigid wind blowing hard on his back.
He stopped at the very edge of the railing, looking out at the spectacular view, the city lights hazy beacons in the darkness. Simon peered downward, the huge drop making him dizzy for a moment. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he hadn't had to jump with the others.
"Don't do it."
Simon jerked at the female voice, his shoulders tightening nervously.
"Whatever you're going through, it's not worth it. You'll regret it on the way down."
"I'm not going to jump," Simon said, careful to turn his head over his left shoulder to hide his LED. Behind him stood a tall blonde woman, smoking a cigarette. Dressed in a pinstriped pantsuit, wearing a thick winter coat over it, she was the last person Simon expected out on the roof.
"Yeah? That's good," she replied, taking a step forward. "If you're not into suicide, why are you out here?"
Simon scrambled for another explanation, settling for the simplest he could think of. "I got locked out of the building."
"And no one heard you pounding on the door?" the woman asked with a doubtful expression.
"I guess not."
She stepped towards his right side and Simon brought a hand up to his forehead, pretending to scratch at it. "Lucky I came around then. Otherwise you'd be shit of lu…" Her words trailed off and Simon realized she'd come close enough that his ruse was useless.
"You're an android." Her voice contained shock and an undercurrent of excitement. While confusing, Simon nevertheless dropped his hand, going for his gun. The woman stepped back when he held it up towards her, dropping her cigarette where it died upon contact with the wet ground. She was close enough that Simon could read the ID tag hanging off the lanyard around her neck.
Irene Wilson's brow knitted as she peered at Simon, slowly raising her hands to show she was no threat. "That group of deviants who broke into the building this afternoon…were you among them?" Seeing no reason to lie, Simon inclined his head silently.
She smiled. "That was a thing of beauty. Exceptionally well-planned, but I guess that's no surprise." Irene sighed when Simon didn't respond. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"
"Move over there," Simon ordered stiffly, motioning Irene to move closer to the edge as he shifted towards the half-open roof door, which was propped open by a brick. He had the distinct feeling Irene wasn't supposed to be out here. His leg slowed him down and Simon had to lock his knees to keep from falling.
"You're injured," Irene said, glancing down at his lower leg, the bullet hole and blue blood more than evident. "And there's no way you're slipping past security wearing that uniform. CyberLife took back all the androids we had for further investigation. Humans only for the next few days."
Simon cursed, Irene seeming amused despite the gun that remained trained on her. The intel she'd provided was vital, but it made escaping from the building all the more difficult for him.
"I could help," Irene offered quietly. "I've never had anything against you guys." At Simon's suspicious look, Irene shrugged. "Just an idea."
He'd had enough of trusting humans to last a lifetime, but Simon's options were limited, survival low no matter how he acted. Destroying himself was absolutely the last thing he wanted to do, not if there was a chance he could still return to Jericho.
Simon sighed. "What did you have in mind?"
"I don't like it," Simon said as Irene lingered at the top of the stairwell, gaze flicking back to the gun he held at his side. Despite her reassurances, once she'd left the roof, Irene could trap him up here. She could go for help and turn Simon into CyberLife. Irene could even be going for a weapon herself.
"I have a feeling you don't like much," Irene responded with a light smile. "I promise I'll be back in ten minutes. Set a mental timer, okay?" She walked past him, racing down the stairs at a brisk pace. Once Irene had cleared the corner, Simon shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.
He hated this. It put him back into the mindset of his previous role as a caretaker. When Simon wasn't following instructions, he was standing around waiting for more. No words of thanks, no periods of rest. It didn't matter what the task was, basic human nature dictated that if they could have Simon do it, they preferred not dirtying their hands. Days leaked into months into years of subservience until he'd had enough.
No more orders, no more forced smiles, no more humanity to wallow in day after day. Simon had been one of the first ones in Jericho, volunteering to go out and spread the message of freedom wherever and whenever he could. It didn't matter that they huddled together like rats, waiting for the end. They were free.
"I guessed on the size, but I think they'll work." Simon spun, barely avoiding thrusting the gun into Irene's face. She carried a baggy coat, a pair of snow pants, and a roll of white gauze in her arms. "Down, boy."
Simon looked over her shoulder, searching for any other signs Irene wasn't alone. "I didn't sell you out." He nodded, satisfied she was telling the truth after sensing no one else in the area. He looked curiously at Irene as she kneeled down and briefly touched the edge of his injured leg. "Does it hurt?"
"Androids can't feel pain."
A corner of Irene's mouth rose while she wove the gauze around his leg. "Well, that's convenient. I was always crap at first aid." She'd almost used all of the roll before ripping the last two inches, tying a tight knot. "There, all done." Simon shifted his leg experimentally, finding his movement wasn't hindered much.
Silently, he put on the coat and pants Irene had brought him. Once zipped up, none of the service uniform showed. The only thing that gave him away was his LED and that was easily hidden by the coat's hood.
"One last thing," Irene said hesitatingly. "You'll have to leave the gun. I don't want to take any chances the guards will see it." Simon hated the suggestion of having his last line of defense taken away, but agreed with the logic behind it. He left the gun on top of one of the cooler units, Irene nodding in approval.
"Once we get inside the building, follow my lead."
Begrudgingly, Simon nodded, anxiety rising high in him as soon as they entered the broadcast room. Just hours ago, he'd been shot there. Irene held up a hand before the inner door, peeking her head out for a moment. She looked amused as she glanced back at Simon. "Good, Bob's still asleep."
He didn't have much time to ponder who Bob was when they passed by the security desk where an overweight guard had his arms crossed over his chest and feet propped up on the desk. Snoring like a log, Bob didn't stir as they proceeded to the elevator at the end of the hall.
Irene leaned forward towards the digital panel and within a second, the car began moving downward. "It's just the night shift on staff right now so we shouldn't run into any trouble. Keep your head down and don't talk to anyone."
"I'm not stupid," he replied, hearing a thread of irritation in his voice.
Irene looked at Simon as the elevator dinged, the doors opening to show a wide hallway. "I didn't say you were….what is your name?"
"Simon."
"Nice to meet you, Simon," Irene said pleasantly. "Ready?"
He nodded, trying for a calm but brisk pace at Irene's side as they traversed down the hallway. As a lounge area came up on their right, Simon pulled the cords of his hood tighter. A man and woman were conversing at a table over what looked to be cups of coffee.
"They're saying we'll probably end up with a foot and a half of snow by tomorrow. Can you believe that?"
"And no androids to shovel it for us. What a pain," a man said to his female companion.
"It's not that bad. You're always saying you need to exercise more anyway."
"Yeah, yeah." The conversation fell away as Irene and Simon approached a clear security gate. Two armed security guards stood on each side of it. Simon fisted his hand inside his coat pocket, wishing he still had his gun.
One of the guards smiled at Irene, ID tag identifying her as Alisha Williams. "Evening, Ms. Wilson," she said, her gaze going past Irene to rest briefly on Simon. "I didn't know you were working tonight."
"The news never rests," Irene replied brightly, Alisha nodding in agreement. Making a show of going through her pant pockets, Irene's features creased in irritation. "Shit, I think I left my ID tag in the boardroom."
She touched Simon on the shoulder. Whether Irene knew it or not, the friendly gesture implied she trusted him. "Do you mind waving Mr. Jones through for me while I go back and get it? We kept him longer than I anticipated and I promised I'd give him a ride home."
Simon held his breath, feeling the weight of the two guards' eyes upon him. He was prepared to cut and run if they decided Irene was acting suspiciously. Violence wasn't something Simon wanted to revert to if he could help it.
"Where's his security tag?" The male guard, Dean Johnston, asked.
"Mr. Jones came in when all the police were milling around earlier. In the interest of getting him into the studio faster, I didn't stop to pick up a guest tag." For a moment, Simon was sure they'd question his identity, forcing him to fully reveal his face, then Alisha sighed loudly.
"Don't make a habit of it, Ms. Wilson."
Irene resolutely raised her hand. "I promise."
The guards motioned Simon forward and he pushed through the security gate, walking out into the main lobby. "Mr. Jones, if you'll take a seat, I'll be back in a few minutes," Irene said casually, running back towards the elevators.
Still tense around the guards, expecting his good fortune to turn sour, Simon got as far away as he could from them without making it obvious. The huge TV screen lining one portion of the wall was running Markus' speech nonstop while the screen opposite had various human experts commentating on what possible ramifications it could have on the country.
Simon was glad his comrades had gotten away clean, the operation a complete success. He'd been skeptical about Markus at the start, but he refused to sit back and watch their people suffer in silence. He had an incredible inner drive and with only a few well-placed words had inspired others around him. Simon had to admire Markus for that. He wondered what else the future held for androids under such leadership.
"Okay, let's go. I bet you're eager to see your wife after all this, huh?" Irene rambled as they stopped on the escalator leading down to the front doors. When they were halfway down and out of sight from the guards, Simon turned to Irene.
"You're a very good liar."
Irene shrugged one shoulder. "My job requires me to think fast and you wouldn't believe the egos I have to deal on a daily basis. I'm just glad I could get you out without incident."
"…Aren't you going to get in trouble for this?" Simon asked as they stopped in front of the main entrance of the building.
"After everyone that's been through here today, no one's going to remember a guest who overstayed his welcome," she assured him. The winter storm was still in full force, snow continuing to fall heavily through the glass doors, showing no signs of abating anytime soon. "I assume you're good from here."
"Yes," Simon said, casting his gaze upon Irene. Not many people would have gone so far for an android. He took a deep breath. "Thank you. For everything."
She stepped out with Simon into the blustering cold, pulling her coat tighter around herself. "You're welcome. If the other deviants are anything like you, Simon, I hope everything works out in your favor," Irene said with a smile.
"Me too."
Only time would tell though.