Les Misérables – Do You Hear the People Sing?

Taylor slid out of the backseat of the taxi, into the cold night air of Detroit. Markus had thankfully answered when she called the number of the phone she had given him days ago. They were marching on Hart Plaza; she was meeting them there. She had already called Rachel. There had been no word from Connor yet.

She walked down the sidewalk, toward the plaza, where she could see clusters of people gathered. A helicopter was hovering over the scene, which meant that Markus must already be here. Of course, she was late.

The crowds turned out to be mostly press, local news stations and national alike. There was a barrier separating them from the scene, and when she looked across the way she could see that Markus and his followers had set up a barricade across from the encampment that was holding the deviants captive.

She clung to the edge of the crowd, hoping not to be recognized as she tried to make her way to the front. Somehow, she had to get to the barricade, to Markus, but she didn't think the officers standing guard at the barriers were going to just let her walk past.

Sliding her phone out of her pocket, she hit redial on the number that would connect her to Markus, hoping he still had the phone. Her luck had run out, however, because the number rang straight to voicemail. Cursing, she ended the call.

"Taylor!" She recognized the voice instantly and turned to greet Rachel as she pushed her way through the crowd. Unfortunately, the shout had drawn the attention she had been trying to avoid. Some of the reporters were eyeing her with interest now, but Rachel ignored them. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Where else would I be," Taylor frowned as Rachel scowled at her.

"Don't act like I don't know what happened to you earlier. You shouldn't be here. I would've handled this," She reached a hand toward her and then hesitated, drawing it back, afraid to touch her.

"I have to get across," Taylor said, brushing it off, determined.

"Yeah, I'd like to be on that side too, but there's a few people with guns in the way." Rachel replied, dropping her hand.

"What'd I miss?" She asked next, her eyes searching the barricade for some signs of movement.

"Your friend Markus came out to speak to Special Agent Perkins of the FBI just before you got here. I'm not sure what they said but it didn't seem too agreeable. I don't think the FBI is going to let the deviants they have in those camps go." Rachel glanced at the barricade and back to her nervously.

"Anthony Jacobsen is in jail." Taylor said, pressing her lips together. "Public opinion is in favor of the deviants."

"You think any of that matters to the government?" Rachel scowled at her again. "They'll do whatever they think is necessary in the name of national security. Don't be naïve."

Whatever Taylor was going to say in response was lost in the sudden explosion. Someone on the officers' side had tossed a grenade, and the gunfire quickly followed as they rushed the barricade. Her face paled. Rachel turned away, shouting at her cameraman. In the distraction, Taylor didn't hesitate to vault over the barrier in front of her and started running.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. She thought she heard Rachel scream her name behind her, but it was impossible to be sure over the sound of the automatic weapons firing. An officer tried to grab her as she ran past, but she ducked away. She was unencumbered by the heavy armor they were all wearing and faster, so she slipped through.

She didn't know what she was doing, running into gunfire, besides being reckless. If they were gunning down deviants like they weren't even people, though, maybe they would hesitate to shoot her. Maybe she could stop this. Or she could just get shot, but she had to try.

But when she reached the edge of the barricade, the firing stopped. She climbed over, full of dread, expecting that she was too late, and everyone was dead. What she didn't expect, however, was that the firing had stopped voluntarily, and the soldiers had lowered their guns. Markus and the other androids were singing.

Everything happened very quickly after that. The soldiers retreated. The deviants were freed. Connor arrived with hundreds of androids he had freed from CyberLife. The president had issued an order to evacuate humans from Detroit.

Taylor was standing to the side, glancing at Connor every few seconds, chewing on her lip. She had been overjoyed to see him here, alive. When he'd told them that he was going into CyberLife, she'd been terrified, had wanted to beg him not to go. But that wouldn't have been fair, and she understood why he'd done it. She was used to letting go of people. For her, it was easier than holding on.

Connor finally turned toward her, and her stomach started twisting into knots again. As he walked toward her, she could feel herself smiling, but some small part of her still wanted to run away before she had to answer the question nagging at the back of her mind. What did she really feel for Connor?

"I told you I'd be back." He smirked down at her, his chocolate eyes meeting hers, crinkling with a smile. As he scanned her face, the smile faded. His brows furrowed and she felt his fingers, featherlight against her throat. "What happened to you?"

She hadn't forgotten, per se, about Anthony, but so much had been happening that she hadn't thought about it. Now the memory came, of her stepfather pinning her against the wall, trying to squeeze all of the life out of her. Even Connor's soft touch on her neck made her shudder in fear. He was still looking down at her, his LED flickering. Yellow. Red. Yellow.

"I'll tell you about it later," she said, reaching her hand up and placing her fingers over Connor's, gently pulling them away. He clenched his jaw at her response but nodded his reluctant assent, as they both realized Markus was getting ready to speak to the crowd. Connor joined him on the stage, pulling Taylor up with him.

"Today, our people finally emerged from a long night. From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves." Markus stood at the front of the stage, speaking out to multitudes of androids. Josh, North, and Simon were on the stage with them as well. "We suffered in silence. But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up and tell humans who we really are."

Taylor was distracted by Connor moving at her side. She glanced over and saw him pulling his gun. Markus's words became dull buzzing in the background as she took in the blank look on Connor's face, his eyes fixed on Markus as he slowly started to raise the gun.

"Connor," she kept her voice as low as possible, not wanting to attract any attention to them, as she placed her hand on his arm. She may as well not have existed for as much as he noticed her. She pulled on his arm but wasn't strong enough to budge him at all. There was absolutely nothing in his eyes as he continued to aim the gun toward Markus.

She stepped in front of him, desperate, still trying to push his arm down. Now he was seeing her, but as an obstacle, the gun level with her chest.

Then he blinked, rapidly. Taylor could see the exact moment he became Connor again. He looked into her face, and down at his hand, still holding the gun level with her heart, his face contorted in fear and confusion. He offered no resistance this time as she lowered his arm.

Connor tucked the gun away and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face into her hair, shuddered. She slipped her arms around him in return, curling her fingers into his jacket, squeezing as hard as she could. She had no idea what had just happened, only that it had terrified him.

"Everything's okay. You're safe." Small words, but she knew how much it meant to hear that you were safe when it felt like everything was crumbling around you. After another moment, Connor pulled away, looking slightly more himself.

The cheering from the crowd reminded them that they were still standing onstage. Markus had just concluded his speech, and if the reaction was any indication, it had been a good one. Taylor untangled herself from Connor's arms reluctantly, missing his warmth immediately, as Markus walked over to them.

"Taylor, you did make it back." He smiled at her, but she glanced away, looking sheepish.

"I got held up. But I kept my promise." Markus stepped forward and placed his hands on her arms, squeezing gently.

"I'm grateful for everything you've done for my people." He looked her over, his eyes lingering on the bruises that were imprinted into her throat. "Please, let Connor take you home to rest. I have a favor to ask, when you come back."

"Okay," she nodded. Markus released her and she turned back to Connor, following him off the stage and through the crowd. As they walked side by side, he glanced over at her.

"Should I take you back to your hotel room?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Oh," she breathed in response, turning her head away. "We can't go there. It's kind of a crime scene."

"Taylor," Connor grabbed her forearm, halting her steps. She turned back to him, found him looking earnestly into her face.

"My stepfather came to the hotel," she said finally. He tensed, his fingers tightening on her arm. "He owns it, turns out." She grimaced. There was a part of her that felt at fault, like she should have known that she was staying in his hotel, sitting in a trap.

"He did that to you?" Connor leaned in, his brows furrowed. His eyes were scanning her again, lips pursed into a frown.

"He was trying to get me to retract all of my statements about deviants," she said softly. "When I refused, he got aggressive. I think," she took a shuddering breath in, the terror coming back, the horror of being unable to breathe. "I think he wanted to kill me and replace me with a Chloe."

Connor released her arm and stepped closer, placing his arms around her carefully. She realized her shuddering breaths had become sobs. He stroked her hair gently, silently, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"Markus was right, I should take you somewhere to rest." He said when she finally stilled. She pulled away, and he thumbed away her tears.

"We can go back to my house," Taylor suggested. Connor frowned at her, and she almost smiled at his reaction, at how well he knew her now. "You'll come with me, right? I'll be okay."

She slid her hand into his, and pulled him onward, toward the sidewalk. Pulling out her phone, she was going to call for a taxi, but the screen remained black in her hand. Her phone had died at some point in the night.

"I've got it," Connor said, his LED flickering yellow. They stood waiting on the curb for a moment before she peered up into his face, tilting her head slightly.

"What happened to you back there?" She asked.

"CyberLife resumed control of my programming," Connor answered quietly. "They were going to make me kill Markus."

"But you didn't," Taylor said, squeezing his hand. "You came back."

"I found the back door." He said, even softer, just as the taxi pulled up. Connor allowed her to climb in first, then slid into the seat beside her. As the taxi started rolling again, Taylor slid in closer, tucking herself against his side.

"I'm really glad you came back. Both times." She leaned her head against his shoulder and didn't say anything else.