November 9th, 2038
PM 08:50:57
No amount of hot water could purge the filth lingering on your skin, but you were trying.
You leaned against the inner wall of the shower, arms wrapped around your stomach to null the pinch of pain that made it hard to stand. The feeling that if you moved just the right way, your insides would fall out and you'd be nothing but a gory mess.
A gory mess…
That was a fitting description for how you were feeling.
But even after you quietly excused yourself, and limped to the bathroom; using the walls to guide you through a maze of dull senses and train wreck of thoughts –
There wasn't necessarily a word for it.
Embarrassed? Ashamed? Relieved?
Nothing really fit, and the quiet time you'd need to arrive at a conclusion was interrupted by a knock on the door.
You turned your head, the water pushing Thirium in your eye and making you hiss before rubbing it out.
"Come in…" You groaned, not so much at the unexpected company but because if you never saw Thirium again, it would be too soon.
You shivered at the wintery draft that traded with the steam caught in the bathroom, hugging yourself and blinking.
But the door closed, and a figure shifted on the other side of the curtain. Silent, and tense – yet still so…comforting. Still able to raise a smile on your face, no matter how hesitant.
You peaked out to find his body facing you, but his head trapped at an angle by his reflection.
His features contorted and smoothed, twisted and flattened – one expression overriding another in the smallest of twitches and curves.
"Connor?"
He jumped, mouth hanging ajar before it snapped shut, and a flash of fear lingered in his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
He was covered in blue blood, his clothes still stained – more so now, and his poor attempt to redress himself had his buttons misaligned, his jacket crooked, and his jeans unfastened.
You weren't even sure why he bothered, really.
"Do you mind if I…" He looked at himself before refocusing, "Do you mind if I join you?"
Your neck snaked back, "Uh…Yes, yeah – of course."
You were screaming in your head, nervous of what he'd do. You weren't in a position to engage in more physical activities. Hell, with your new work schedule – getting enough sleep was going to be a whole new problem.
"Are you sure?" His jaw was tense in a hard line, sadness on his face like he'd been waiting for rejection and couldn't believe he didn't get it.
So you gave him a smile, a real smile, and that line on his lips turned crooked in return. You didn't have to say anything. Just pointed a nod towards the steaming jet of water, and closed the curtain.
You were rinsing your face off; eyes closed as your hands scrubbed at your temples when the rings slid across the bar. You shook the loose water off and wiped the rest away. Started to look behind you before two strong arms pulled you in, hugging you against an equally strong torso.
"Ugh, Connor!" You laughed as you struggled to get away, "I just washed myself-"
And now, your back was covered in Thirium.
He pulled you closer, a low chuckle rumbling over your shoulder.
"How are you feeling?"
You pursed your lips, still hanging on to his arm before finding him in your peripherals.
"I mean, it's hard to stand. Walk. Anything."
"So why not take a bath?"
You looked at the red and blue water running down the drain.
"Because I'd rather not literally soak in the blood of my enemies…or your blood, for that matter."
He let you go at that, a smirk on his face when your eyes met.
"A fair point, I suppose."
You sighed, putting more soap on a washcloth as he leaned over you, running his fingers through his hair and letting loose a blue waterfall as he cleaned it.
You gave him a flat look, waiting till he was done to begin scrubbing the splashed drips off your legs…again.
"Switch spots with me."
You placed your hands on his sides, steadying yourself as you stepped over. He held your hips and didn't let go until you were safely behind him and the danger of slipping passed.
You lathered your skin in suds and grimaced as the cloth glided over bruises and cuts, new and old, anxious to lay down and just relax.
Your attention lifted to the gorgeous, perfectly sculpted man in front of you with his forearm underneath the spout, head tilted down with water running down his back…The part of him that was maimed, healing, and covered in navy-blue bruises over a wave of muscles.
Your cheek twitched, and you started digging at the cut on your cheek – closing your eyes as the scab caught on your nails, making you wince.
"Stop scratching it."
Your eyes popped open, and a guilty smile lifted over your mouth as he watched you with a stern look.
"It's itchy."
"That's because it's healing." He swatted your hand away, "You're just going to make it worse."
You pouted, and he cocked his head to the side. He placed you under the water again, taking the washcloth from your hand. He swallowed, kissing you before turning your chin towards the hot stream…and gently, meticulously, started washing your back.
The washcloth snaked up your spine – rolled over your shoulders. His fingers spread it so that he gripped the back of your neck, massaging the knots that'd built up on either side. Dodged every sore spot as he made small circles up and down your sides.
You started to drift off, head hanging and eyes fluttering – a stream leaving the point of your chin.
"Am I clingy?"
You were taken out of his trance of touch, snorting at his question.
"Uh…what?"
"I felt certain things after we engaged in...that." His hand stopped briefly before continuing, the other still holding your hip to keep you steady, "And the internet alludes to me being 'clingy.'"
"You need to stay off the 'internet.'" You mumbled, "What made you go looking?"
The washcloth hung on a safety bar to your right, and his fingers laced themselves in your hair, instead.
"I was out there, trying to get the stains out of the couch. I knew you were only a room away, but I...I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to be with you."
A cleaved breath left you as you leaned backwards, knowing he'd be there to keep you propped up.
A gesture of complete, undying trust…because he was always there when you needed him most. Always wanting what was best for you, always protecting you and trying to save you from the impurities of the world.
Something the two of you shared.
"You're not clingy, Connor…" You muttered, "You're just…in love."
A sweet smile curved on your lips as the back of your head planted itself under his chin, opening your eyes to look up at him. He kissed your forehead, holding you in a tight embrace.
"And if I was to fall in love with anyone, I'd much rather it be someone who faces danger rather than remain helpless."
Your brows jumped up, "Can I get that in writing?"
He pursed his lips, eyelids falling into a deadpan.
"Ah, come on…" You gave him a light nudge against his stomach, "It's me n' you against the world, babe."
You gave him a pair of the most animated finger guns you could, and he couldn't help but laugh at how absolutely ridiculous you were being. That was okay, though.
"You're in rare form, aren't you?"
"Gee," You huffed, "I wonder why."
"What are you suggesting?"
"That I just got-…Well, the last two hours have been a refreshing change of pace, if not a little terrifying."
His LED blinked while he processed a thought, eyes flickering away before returning to you.
"Yes, I believe we worked out a lot of our problems as a couple."
You laughed so hard it was a choke at first, and you started coughing on water. He reacted just like you thought he would – alarmed and concerned before analyzing you and patting your back.
While you were buckled over, you reached out to turn the faucet off.
An idea popped in your head.
"Do you want to…do something…I don't know. Fun?"
He cocked his chin, "What did you have in mind?"
You opened the curtain, stepping out to dry yourself.
"Like…watching a movie and pretend we're not both going to pick it apart or predict the ending and then totally do it anyway?"
"…I think I'd like that, actually." He mimicked your drying motion with a towel of his own, "But you need to go to sleep. We have to go in early tomorrow."
You frowned, "There's a TV in the bedroom…?"
"Alright, but…just until you fall asleep."
You winked before pulling dry clothes over your head and up your legs, taking a breath of relief to not feel the weight of your armor and the scratchy fabric of your uniform. The sticking of blood and the misaligned patterns of death on your body.
Connor looked at his mangled clothing on the floor.
"You can…" You swallowed, "You can use Anthony's clothes. The ones on the table…I think they'd fit."
He raised his chin, LED flickering, "But they're…his."
"…Not anymore." You touched his face, running a thumb over his cheekbone, "He wouldn't mind, anyway."
He leaned into your touch like he always did. Closed his eyes and melted into your palm, a yellow light flashing to blue next to it.
"I wish I could read your mind sometimes. Get inside your head." You muttered, biting the inside of your cheek; heart pounding as his deep-brown eyes were inches from your own, "To just…take over for a little bit, sort things out…help you learn what it is you're feeling."
And his eyelids widened from the dream-like state he'd been in. Focused on you so fervently and passionately it hitched your breath.
"You don't know how calming a simple touch can be…"
His hand slipped to yours, raising the mess of tangled fingers between you two; the reflection shifting in the mirror to your right.
"A brush against your arm at the station."
He flattened his palm, yours following suit.
"To hold you at night, and be held."
And his synthetic skin, the one that hid who he was – one of the many functions that divided him from your species…peeled away.
"It's all I'll ever need."
You looked at his plastic hand pressed against yours of blood and flesh – the interface function made impossible by evolution versus design.
You wanted to cry. To let loose the overwhelming surge of icy-hot love and adoration that dug in your chest and encased your heart until it served as nothing but a conductor for it; its biological function becoming secondary.
His eyes watered, and you realized that, interface or not…you still understood.
"I will follow you to the ends of this Earth…" His fingers bent until yours fell in line, holding your hand in a fist that dropped from your view, "You just have to show me the way."
You did cry, then. Threw your arms around his neck, and held on to him tighter than when you had shown him the way – had helped break the chains that bound him to Amanda. To CyberLife. To everything that would try and take him away.
Because a fatal attraction to danger put you on thin ice…and when you fell through, you drew a predator with your own blood in the water.
A conditioned hunger that evolved…
Into unconditional love.
A/N: And this concludes Part V.
Damn.
What a wild ride it's been.
I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who helped me along the way; whether it be my amazing beta crew or you wonderful readers who sustain me with your feedback.
This segment was actually supposed to be the entire fic, and I've had it planned for awhile; but as I started writing it just grew, and grew, and grew. Obviously, some plot points changed, but...Public Enemy just inspired me so much.
I hope that passion was conveyed, and I'm PUMPED to show you what I've got in store for Part VI and VII.
Stay beautiful!
