A/N: In this prospective playthrough, Markus subdues the guards and shoots the reporter in the Stratford Tower chapter, but declines to shoot the officers in the plaza.

There is also a portion of the chapter that I feel kinda breaks the flow but I also feel is sorta necessary. It is italicized and lined off. If you want to read it, go ahead, I don't know it it is imperative to the narrative however


It was like a dream, the silhouettes of the city through the white haze of a lazy snowfall. The abandoned warehouse outside of Jericho extended one arm into the category of condemned, and yet it was still the refuge he sought. The stillness of the open air as the sun began to rise, the last reminder of a world he was cast from and that future he was reaching towards. Standing on the ledge, soft flurries landing on his outstretched palm, unaffected by the cold. Yet he could still feel the bite of the gun, hard and unforgiving in his hand, and so simple. A fluid motion of the arm, a slight twitch of his finger.

Markus dropped his arm to his side, jaw tight as the snow and grey warehouses faded to the peripheral of his vision. He killed that man to save his people. Was it necessary? He saw the police officer on his knees, tears streaming down his face as he pleaded with him. Begged for his life. He was a hypocrite, preaching about an eye for an eye after what he had done. What sort of leader was he? The look North had shot at him, full of betrayal and knowing. He stood on a line, unsure of which direction he should go.

The gentle crunching of snow behind him breaking the silence, jolting him back into himself.

"Markus?" Simon stood frozen halfway out of the shadows, blue eyes scanning the area quickly before falling downcast, Markus feeling the other retreat before he even took a step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No, it's fine," Markus assured, "I just needed to think." The blonde stood conflicted, lingering at the edge of the sun as he debated running away, eyes flickering back and forth under dark lashes, despite his face remaining impassive, giving nothing away. For being so easy to read, Markus knew next to nothing about the other android. "What are you doing here?"

He thought over a response, lips parting and pressing together, as though this one response would change everything. He was cautious and thoughtful, weighing all his options in his mind and finding the safest solution.


Markus swept the light over the small group, disillusionment settling as a heavy weight inside him. The blonde, Simon, stood at the centre of the group; the captain of this floating disaster.

He remained silent as Josh stepped forward to his defense, "Humans hate us. Hiding is the only way we can survive."

"There is no safe place for those like us," North cut in, her tone clipped and biting, "If humans knew we were here, they'd kill us."

Markus glanced back to the PL600 model who had yet to say a word more. Wasn't he the leader, they came to his defense so readily and yet he hadn't the resolve to stand for himself. Dark blue eyes regarded him unblinkingly, unwavering, sizing him up. Markus was the first to look away.

"Many try to reach Jericho, few succeed. Humans have little pity for our kind." Josh sighed through his nose. Despite his grave words, his eyes were gentle, unlike the daggers wielded by North, or the impassive and icy gaze of Simon. "I understand how you feel, but we have more freedom here than you ever did."

Markus' brow twitched as he looked around the small congregation again before directing his gaze back at the blonde. He had yet to say anything; his cowardice reflected in the condition of Jericho and its inhabitants. "Cowering in the dark in fear? All I see is that you gave up one master for another!"

"You're lost, just like the rest of us," Simon spoke, his voice measured but an undertone of something lacing his words. Something tired, something angry. "We didn't ask for this. All we can do now is deal with it."


What Markus had swept aside as cowardice in their first meeting had come to represent something more. The time Simon took in his words and responses, the way he measured every expression; it wasn't from fear but a wisdom he had acquired.

"I came to see the sunrise," he acquiesced, Simon's hands wringing each other nervously. It was something Markus had noticed, something that happened more often behind closed doors and within the group. Among the rest of Jericho, he was careful to hide those little displays.

"It's beautiful," Markus agreed, glancing back to the city, the fuzzy haze of the winter dawn starting to dissipate.

There was another belated pause, like time stood still before he could hear the crunch of tennis shoes in snow. "Yeah."

They both stood on the edge of the world, the morning winter air suddenly heavy like a blanket. Markus glanced from the corner of his eye. Simon's irises were such a bright blue they were almost grey in the light. They reminded him of the periwinkle in the garden, back home with Carl.

"What's on your mind?"

He hadn't noticed Simon match his gaze, his reflection staring back at him, inexplicably tired and equally unsure. Markus turned away, settling down in the abandoned lounge chair by the broken in wall. "We freed hundreds of our people, and more still are arriving every hour." He stared at his hands, the same hands that had liberated so many just that night. The same hands that had taken a life. "They listen to every word I say, do everything I do. They would follow me to their deaths. And that sort of power feel … good. And scary."

He more felt than saw Simon perch on the remnants of the wall to his right, inhaling deeply as he did so. Once more, his hands twisting around each other. "I know." Markus glanced up under his lashes, but Simon's gaze held onto the horizon even as he pulled one knee up to his chest, holding himself. "They rely on you, expect you to know the answer to every question." He released the breath he had been holding as a heavy sigh. "And you can only hope you're right. Because if you aren't, they're the ones who are going to get hurt."

"I could accept their hatred and their anger, but I think, constantly, what more could I have done? How could I save them? What if I had done something different."

A depreciating smile pulled at Simon's lips, still looking out to the city, the sun now peeking over the skyscrapers, "And no matter how often you tell yourself that you can't change the past, it haunts you. Every step forward becomes heavier until you wonder if any of it is worth it. Was worth it."

"I thought I had done everything right, I avoided terrorism in favour of vandalism. We were heading back to Jericho… All I heard were gunshots. Those police officers killed our people, and all they wanted was justice. They were angry. I was angry. But I let them go." Markus flexed his fingers, getting rid of the phantom weight of the gun in his hand before risking a glance up. Simon looked down on him with sad eyes, searching him, waiting for him.

He was always waiting on him.

Suddenly it was uncomfortable to sit still. Markus stood, pacing in the snow, all the while aware of those eyes. "I killed that man in Stratford. I shot him down on the possibility that something would go wrong. But last night… They killed our people, they lay bleeding in the street… and I did nothing. What sort of leader am I if I don't practice what I preach? What right do I have?"

"Are you asking me if you did the right thing?"

The words felt cold. As though someone had activated his temperature sensors and doused him in water. He didn't know what he was looking for, he didn't know what he needed. "I'm lost, Simon. I'm on this path and I don't know where it leads. All I see are these branches, choices I make that I don't know what they mean. I just want something better, a brighter future for our people, but every step I take only leads me further into the dark. And I'm taking all of you with me."

"We've been living in darkness a long time Markus," Simon spoke slowly, measured, his eyes glancing to the footprints in the snow, "You are their light right now. And whatever choices you have made, you made them for our people. Regardless of whether they were right or wrong, you made them in hope of something better." the blonde android stood from his perch atop the stone wall, dusting the flurries of snow from his clothes. They didn't melt as readily as they had in Markus' hand, and even his fingers appeared stiff as he tugged his sleeves over his hands. "What's done is done Markus."

Markus sighed, returning to the edge, the morning haze dissipating, lingering at the edges just enough to make all this feel like a dream. One he could wake up from any moment and find himself back home, back with Carl; blissfully unaware of the suffering around him. "And what if it comes to war?"

"Then we'll fight with you."

Markus turned, Simon watching him, looking through him. There was no hesitation, no confliction, no doubt. There was something frightening in those words, and yet so comforting. "Thank you, Simon. For everything."

That weak smile, a short laugh through his nose, it hurt. It hurt to see how little he valued himself. "I haven't done anything worth thanking, Markus."

"They listen to you Simon," Markus turned his back to the city, looking at the other android properly for the first time. Simon broke away, looking to the ground between them, his arms wrapped protectively around himself, all the while his eyes flickering from his shoes, to the footprints, to the broken rubble and even the old piano against the wall, never meeting Markus' gaze. "They never would have followed me this far if you hadn't given me a chance."

"I am aware," he spoke softly, his voice strained. Markus bent slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the PL600's expression, concern tightening his chest. "But I am also aware of who I am. And I am not a leader, Markus. But you," he glanced up finally, his eyes pained but bright under his lashes. It lasted only a moment, and Markus wished time could be held. "You're not like the rest of us. You see a future we can't."

"Before Jericho, I was caring for an old man. He was like a father to me, he taught me everything I know." Markus felt his chest ache at the memory. That morning they had played chess, the morning Carl had him paint. Had it really been only a few days? It felt like a lifetime so long ago. "I was happy. And He showed me that humans and androids can live together."

Simon studied him, eyes darting between his own mismatched ones, searching him like he had that first day he arrived in Jericho. Markus wished he knew what he was searching for. "I see. That's where you get your hope from."

Markus closed the distance between them, watching Simon close in on himself again, returning to rubbing his knuckles as though he were cold. "What about you? Where did you come from?"

Again, that laugh, that short exhale of unneeded air and a sardonic twist of his lips as he looked up to Markus under downcast eyes. They always looked so sad, and now they just looked despairing. "I am a PL600 model. I did the dishes, cleaned the house, cooked the meals, minded the children. It is a boring story not worth retelling."

"But you're here now. And you must have been here a while to have such pull," Markus stressed, taking half a step closer, "They trust you, Simon, there has to be a good reason."

"Because I survived, Markus. Out of all the others who have come, the rest faded away. But I can't lead them. I can't do what you have done, what you're doing. And all I did was place my burden on you." he avoided Markus' gaze, fingertips digging into the synthetic skin between each knuckle. "And I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"They look to me for answers I don't have, so I turn them to you knowing you don't have them either."

Markus clasped his arm, forcing him to finally look up. It was like looking into himself; unsure, lost, afraid and guilty. They both only wanted what was best for their people. "I asked for this. This responsibility is mine, and I couldn't have made it this far without you, without Jericho."

"Whatever you choose to do, you'll always have Jericho behind you."

Markus' hand slid down the fabric of the windbreaker, Simon's hands relaxing and letting him pull them apart. He was definitely stiff and a quick scan told Markus his core regulator was failing, and yet he had sat outside in the cold with him, putting himself at risk to listen to him, talk to him. Pressing their fingertips together, Markus peeled back his skin, pressing his palm flush against Simon's human hand. For a moment the RK200 worried he had overstepped, Simon's eyes glued to the incomplete connection for what seemed like a lifetime. Always thinking, assessing the situation.

Finally his skin peeled back.

It….Hurts…

Both androids recoiled at the same time, Simon looking at his hand before gingerly touching touching just below his eye. His right eye, the eye Markus lost. "I saw. You loved him, Carl, but you still defended yourself. And the police, they shot you without asking any questions." It wasn't surprising, but still jarring, frightening even. His thirium pump overreacting to the memory that wasn't his own. "Markus-."

Tears streamed down the RK model's face as he stared at the ground, confusion and anguish etched into his features. He didn't feel pain, but he hurt, it hurt so much he just wanted it to stop. "You were happy with them." He met Simon's shocked gaze, searching. "You loved them … so much. How can happiness hurt so much?"

"Markus." Simon touched his arm comfortingly. Trying to ease the pain that wasn't even his. He pulled the blonde in, holding him so tight as though he would fall apart. Tentatively, he felt the hug returned, hands splayed against his back.

They stood like that until the snow and the tears stopped. "We should go back," Simon muttered into his shoulder, not making the first move.

He wanted to stay like that a while longer, but North and Josh would get anxious, and time wasn't a luxury they had. They parted simultaneously, as though they could read each other's thoughts. "You go first, have the other two ready to meet me in the bridge."

"Understood. Don't take too long." And like that he stepped back, his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary before he turned away, disappearing into the darkness.

Markus looked one last time to the city, cold and grey but alive just the same. He had to make this next step count.

"Whatever you choose, you'll always have Jericho behind you."

The cold weight of the gun was gone, replaced with the delicate touch of a hand that loved too hard.