So this chapter is a little different. It's actually a prequel of the last chapter about what happened the day Nines was killed. Just a short little angsty thing that hits all the good points. But of course, this is the only chapter the reader isn't featured in, due to the fact that it's sort of just a continuation of the last chapter.

Redeemed, Part Two

November 23rd, 2036

Nines walked aimlessly through the mall, head down and hands shoved into his pockets; he was fuming beyond belief and wasn't in the mood for interactions of any sort with the plethora of other human beings moving purposefully around him. He shouldn't have come, really. The shops had just started getting busy for the weeks leading up to Christmas Day, and being surrounded by people who were bright-eyed and happy was only making him feel worse.

He wasn't so much angry at Connor now as he was at himself, and the more distance he put between him and his brother, the more time he had to dwell on it, the more he realised staying mad at Connor was unproductive, and would do nothing cause complications. Nines loved his brother, truly he did, more than anything, but it seemed whenever he wanted to pour milk into his cereal every other morning, Connor had always used up the rest, save for maybe a thimbleful, and put the carton back in the god-damn fridge.

While it was an incredibly irritating habit Connor had formed, it was not worth Nines losing his mind over, which was why he felt increasingly guilty over the events of that morning, in which Nines had practically kicked open his brother's bedroom door, thrown the practically empty carton at his twin's head, and proceeded to shout his lungs out at him.

It had taken Connor several dazed seconds of recovering from the carton to the face before he'd barked back in a defensive, similarly hostile tone. Unnecessarily antagonistic words and phrases had been exchanged, Nines was certainly not proud of himself.

In fact, he was feeling particularly regretful. The work stress had been building up over several weeks now, and he had clearly let it get to him, but it was no excuse to take it out on his brother, who was probably suffering just as much stress from work.

Nines's hands clenched and unclenched in the pockets of his leather jacket as he mentally reprimanded himself for going off on his older brother, it made him feel like an absolute fool knowing he had gotten angry about the most insignificant thing on the planet.

He sighed, walking pace slowing to an eventual stop, and wavered on the spot, wondering if he should immediately head back home to apologise or if he should buy Connor some food to turn the probability of swift forgiveness in his favour.

Nines did not have time to decide, because the sound of a commotion stole his attention from his thoughts; he turned his head away from the Southern exit of the mall centre, peering back down the way in curiosity, much like many other mall-goers who had all stopped to be nosy as well.

"Stop him! Thief!"

The frantic words coupled with what appeared to be a man dressed in all black, clutching a backpack of presumably stolen goods, and rushing in his general direction was enough for Nines to spring into action. He charged forward, intent on cutting the man off before he could pass by and escape through the exit.

He didn't see the gun in the thief's hand until he was just a few yards away. By then, he was directly in his path, and it was too late to avoid the line of shot.

Nines had never been shot before. In his entire seven years working with the DPD, he had never even been remotely badly injured. He'd been scraped and grazed, bruised, and even broken a few fingers, but nothing life-threatening. He'd always jokingly held it over Connor like it was a great achievement, especially given that Connor had been shot before, non-lethally, as he had been wearing his bullet-proof vest at the time.

His first thought, upon feeling the impact in his chest, was 'Damnit, I can't hold it over Connor anymore.'

And his second thought, upon falling flat on his back, was 'Shit. I'm going to die.'

The resounding noise of the gun being fired had caused a wave of screams and shouts, and Nines heard the thundering footsteps of the gunman sprinting off to escape, the rush of people naturally fleeing, and the very few who circled around him in a bid to help.

Nines flailed, any coherent thought of his DPD training flying out the window, and he further writhed with a cry of sheer pain when one of the people around him pressed their hands over the wound, trying to plug the daunting flow of blood.

He drew in pitiful, hoarse breaths, barely able to think over the throbbing pain in his abdomen, but one awful stray thought flitted through his mind and left him feeling cold.

The last thing he had told his twin was, 'you really are a shit brother sometimes, Connor.'

A whine of agony escaped him, "My brother… my brother." The soothing attempts from the faceless people around him fell on deaf ears as he reached for the phone in his pocket. "Need to call my brother…"

Somehow, he managed to select Connor's number in his contacts, and he pressed the device against his ear, hearing the sound of his heart thumping violently.

It rang twice, and the call dropped.

Nines gave a distressed keen, looking at the phone screen with disbelieving eyes. Connor always picked up when he called. He always picked up.

So he tried again, and was met with the same response.

His grip on the phone failed as his fingers began to feel numb, and he drew in a feverish breath, squirming as people tried to keep him still. "Connor… Connor…" He whimpered, face wet with tears, "no… My brother… I need..."

"Hey! Are you listening to me, you dumb fucking robot? My brother got shot! I need to know he's okay!" Connor slammed his fists down against the reception desk in the hospital, his watery glare fixed upon the android receptionist who hadn't immediately turned to help him when he'd rushed in just a few seconds ago.

The android looked up from her terminal, dead eyes looking as if they were passing straight through him, and spoke, "What is your brother's name?"

"Nines Stern", Connor snapped automatically, and then back-pedaled, "N-Niles. Niles Stern."

"Niles Stern", the android repeated, pressing her hand to the terminal. Her blue LED cycled patiently, and then she looked up once more, her face as blank and untelling as before. "Please have a seat in the waiting area, you will be notified when more information is made available."

Connor's hands clenched, "Please- please, I need to know now-"

"There is currently no information I can offer, Mr. Stern. Please have a seat in the waiting area, and you will be notified when more information is made available."

Connor hated the repetition in her words, and reluctantly pulled away from the front desk, falling into one of the seats in the waiting area nearby. He bounced his leg, taking deep breaths to try and steel himself, but it was difficult when he knew nothing about the extent of his brother's injuries.

He tried to remain hopeful, telling himself that Nines was and always had been invincible. Nines was always the hero, always the one pulling in the most arrests, always correctly identifying the criminals, finding the hidden clues, offering the most valuable insight. Connor had always believed that his brother was more deserving of the promotion to lieutenant, but his lack of social skills had been an unlucky factor.

Nines hadn't gotten the promotion, but he'd been overjoyed for Connor when he received it instead. He was a pure soul, kind and caring. He had his entire life ahead of him. He had aspirations to meet someone, buy his own house and start a family. He wasn't going to die. He couldn't die.

He wasn't going to die.

It was just as Connor had convinced himself of this fact that another android - a doctor, it appeared, or a surgeon, stepped into the room, his inspective gaze scanning over everybody in the room before landing on Connor, at which point the android stepped towards him.

Connor stood up, "My brother. Is he okay?"

"Mr. Connor Stern", the android began, his tone gentle, "I am so sorry..."

Connor felt himself go numb. The android did not need to finish his sentence, because it was already painfully obvious what he was going to say, but he finished it anyway.

"Your brother did not make it. He had lost too much blood by the time he came into my care. I did all I could."

The world seemed blurry. Connor tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling to try and keep the tears from rolling down his face, closing his throat to try and keep the sob from escaping.

His brother was dead.

Connor shook his head, the movement dislodging the tears despite his best efforts, "I don't believe you."

The android looked unsurprised, which could've indicated that he got the same response from patient's loved ones whenever he had to deliver the bad news, or it might've been because he was just a goddamn android. Either way, the android assured him, "I must regretfully inform you that it is true."

"I want to see him."

"Mr. Stern, I'm not sure that's a good-"

"I want to see my brother."

Seeing the shape of the body below the white sheet was unnerving enough as Connor stepped into the room, the patch of smeared red around the abdominal area made him feel sick, but the worst thing was just how… motionless the corpse was.

Connor's breaths were short and fast, choppy as he fought to control his respiration with each step closer to the gurney. It wasn't until he gripped the white cover in his fist and pulled it back to reveal Nines's lifeless face that Connor felt the stab of uncontrollable grief pierce through him.

His brother's eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleeping, the usual pinch of his eyebrows completely slack, which gave him the illusion of peacefulness. But his skin was white, not a hint of colourful within him, and as Connor gently touched his twin's face, he noted that Nines was still just slightly warm.

Connor didn't care that tears were streaming from his eyes incessantly, that he was holding his breath to keep the gasping sobs from escaping. The emptiness in knowing his constant companion throughout his whole life had left him was slowly taking over him. He would never see Nines's bright blue eyes again, never see his smile, never hear his wise advice or hear him crack a subtle joke.

He'd never share another movie night, or cook dinner together, or bicker like the siblings they are. Or were. They'd never be able to play anymore tricks on new people in the DPD by pretending to be one person. Connor would never hear his brother shout, cry or laugh ever again.

And it was all his fault. If Connor hadn't lost his mind and unleashed pointless anger on his brother that morning, Nines would not have been placed in a criminals line of fire. His brother was dead because Connor had acted like a petulant child.

The last thing Nines had told him was that he was a shit brother, and the last thing he had told Nines was 'I fucking hate you sometimes.'

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry", Connor gasped, unable to hold it in any longer, "I don't hate you… I never hated you." He would have given anything to be able to tell Nines that he loved him one last time. "I really am a shit brother… it should've been me, not you…" His fingers shook as he caressed his brother's face.

"I'm so sorry for you loss, Mr. Stern", the android from before spoke up from behind him, "I understand the process of mourning is very difficult… we do have counselling available, if you wish-"

"I don't want it", Connor snapped, his voice barely comprehensive between his weeping, "Leave me alone… leave me alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Stern." The android apologised, "I am not allowed to leave you alone with the body due to the nature of your current emotional state."

"Then just... sh-shut the fuck up", Connor continued, his words nothing but a series of whimpers and whines. He was too far gone to try and control his sobs, all he could think about was the fact that his brother must have been so very afraid in his last conscious moments, and that Connor could not be there to help him.

His little brother had died thinking Connor hated him.

Connor wrenched his gaze away from his brother's body, looking instead to the clear plastic box nearby that appeared to house the belongings Nines had been carrying at the time of his death. His phone and wallet were sitting atop his folded leather jacket. Connor reached for it, picking up the jacket that his brother had cherished for years now. It was Nines's favourite, and he wore it constantly.

Clutching it in his hands, Connor held it to his chest.

It had been a gift from Connor on Christmas day several years ago. He'd spied Nines eyeing in a shop a few days before the holiday and promptly purchased it for him, and when he'd gifted it to his brother, he'd told him it would help make him look like a cool detective.

He'd never forgotten Nines's amused reply, 'you're implying I'm not cool already?'

Despite Nines's jest, the fact that he had worn the jacket at a near constant rate over the years was attestation enough to how much he adored the gift. Connor had never imagined the jacket would outlive its wearer.

Connor shakily pulled the jacket on, uncaring of the fact it was still stained with his brother's blood, and stepped back to the body, laying his hand on Nines's shoulder.

"Nines… I'm sorry I had the last of the milk…"

My friend Brittney also wrote her own version of the day Nines died. You can find her under the username Leonixon on Archive Of Our Own, and you can find it under the fic titled 'Blue', it is chapter 11. Please check it out if you can! She's very creative and her version is quite different from mine! :)