Thank you as always for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter ^^ Midterm hell has graced my schedule, so I'll try and post another chapter next week.

Perkins may be an asshole, but he was a man who had earned his title by his eagerness to do things most others would not, simply for the sake of recognition and praise. He was prepared for the bomb about to blow Jericho to smithereens, because he was always prepared for every outcome, including ones that involved a tactical retreat, and also because he didn't trust the deviants to use anything but violence. For that alone, I could give him the slightest nod of approval; if you wanted someone on your team to give you results, he'd do it to the T, and then some.

But he was grossly wrong, in his both his methods and in his character studies. The former because he was willing to aid in the agenda of a clear genocide, and the latter because Markus wouldn't just lie down and take the loss like Perkins wanted him to.

Perkins left with his SWAT team in their aircraft carriers, streaking through the night on wintry gales. As they sped away from the ravaged city of Jericho, the ship burst apart from the inside in a gulf of orange and yellow flames, and screeching metal. Shrapnel flew everywhere, and I dived beneath the black waters to protect myself; metal shards sliced through the waves, slitting through whatever was in its path like a bullet through tissue.

Markus clutched me to his body and lifted me out of the waves - shielding my head as he did so in case of further projectiles - as if I'd be sucked away from him in the wake of destruction. The freezing waters clawed through my lungs, raked through my flesh, yearning to freeze me from the inside-out.

"Stay with me," Markus instructed, pulling my arms around his neck. "Follow me!" he called to the androids treading the dark waters.

"I'm sorry," I murmured against his neck, as he swam us to shore. "I didn't think about how they must have registered Connor into their database at all. I just left with him for Jericho, without thinking about anything. I was a fool."

Markus's response was curt and rough, but not unkind. "It wouldn't have mattered if you and Connor had come to Jericho; the humans would have found us and done the same thing anyway."

Pulling himself ashore, he set me down on the concrete only after he'd carried me a few steps away from the edge. Water streamed off his body in rivulets while it soaked through my clothes, plastering to my skin like thin sheets of ice. My teeth involuntarily clacked together in a chatter, sending spears of pain through my torn up tongue at the vibrations, and I folded my arms and paced around in a circle to get my blood pumping.

Markus left me to check on the other androids. When they weren't busy looking at him or at the ruins of Jericho, they looked towards me with hollowed gazes. Some were especially bitter, like the man now stomping toward me. My eyes widened in recognition. It was the man who'd assaulted me in the alleyway.

He slapped me so hard that my head jerked back to the side, and the force of it toppled me to the ground. I didn't have even a second to push myself up before he dove on top of me and curled his hands around my throat. "You bitch, I fucking knew it was you. I should've done this the second I saw you there." He squeezed violently, hatred blazing in his eyes.

The man was light, thin, and reedy; his strength was fuelled by pure hatred. But I refused to let him overpower me, like the Connor machine had done earlier. I channeled all of the rage I'd felt from that helpless encounter into my protesting muscles, and I twisted to the side, planting a solid kick to his rib cage. I used the momentum to slip out from underneath him, and then I reared up and shoved him down against the pavement.

He didn't let go of my neck, only squeezed harder, nearly incapacitating me with the brute force. A strangled gurgle slipped from me and in desperation I went for his eyes-

"Stop it," a woman's voice snarled. She wrenched the deviant's wrists to the side, snapping his grip off me. The woman yanked me backwards, and I coughed and gasped for air. Tears pricked my gaze. North spun me around to check my neck, her eyes hard. "He'd have killed you if I'd let that continue. There, you're welcome."

If that was her way of thanking me for saving her life, then I was more than grateful.

She whirled on the deviant as he leaped for me again. Her fist curled into his clothes and she slammed him back so fast he skidded along the pavement. She marched over to his crumpled form, stamped a boot on his wrist and sneered down at him. "I'd rip all of their heads off if I could, but we can't touch her. She's Markus's friend," she swallowed, "and she saved my life, for whatever that's worth."

"That little bitch led them straight to us. Why the fuck aren't you ripping her open? Look at what she did!" he roared, stabbing a finger at the flames engulfing Jericho. "Our people were slaughtered in there, and you're not gonna kill the fucker who led them straight to us?"

Markus stomped over, tiredness drawing lines around his mouth. The glow of the raging inferno behind him only darkened those lines, carving him into a study of bleak hope. "She's not the one responsible for this, Oliver. The humans would have found us one way or another. You saw the RK800 model - CyberLife is hunting us down."

"So what? The fact is, she brought them to us."

Markus spoke slowly, as if he didn't want to exhaust any more energy over this. "She didn't, and besides which - killing the humans will only give them more of a reason to destroy us. If we kill them, then we lose any chance we have of them listening to us."

Oliver clambered to his feet and flipped me off. "Fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck all of you. This pacifism shit ain't gonna do jack for us. They gunned us down without giving us a warning. They don't give a damn, so why should I?"

North watched him intently. Did she agree with him, or did a part of her understand Markus's goals? Maybe both were true at the same time.

"If you don't give a damn, you may as well go walk out in the middle of the street and announce yourself to be shot down. If you care, you'll do whatever it takes to survive. We won't shed blood. It won't do anything but spill more, until the world is swimming in it."

Oliver was tight-lipped as he glared at Markus.

"We'll wait until the fires die out to make our next move, until then we'll use the time to decide what that move will be." The deviant leader swept past Oliver without another glance and asked me, "Are you alright?" When I nodded, afraid to speak in case I sparked another protest, he gave me a pointed look. "You need to get warm or you'll freeze to death."

Markus had me sit down on the pavement before the flaming Jericho to warm myself while he returned to his people. I removed the soaked journal from my pocket and set it down on the ground, poking at it gently. It was in horrible shape. The covers sagged, the pages were almost entirely pulp and the ink an indecipherable mess. My tongue felt like a chewed up piece of muscle, maybe because it was, and my body ached with waves of pain.

Yet what cut into my soul more than all of that was the massacre that had stolen so many lives today. I battled over the lump in my raw throat, refusing to allow myself to release those tears as the flames continued to devour Jericho, and the snow fell like ashes around us.

I sat there until the flames petered into smoking embers and were consumed by the heavy snowflakes. Soft footfalls approached me, and then Markus's low, silvery voice said, "I'm going to see Carl. Will you come with me?"

Markus and I passed beneath a stone angel, her arm raised heavenward as she hailed us. It was like we were entering the Garden of Eden. If we went through those doors, she'd smite us down with a great flaming sword, cleaving our souls from our bodies.

Squalls of snow pillowed over the ground, covering it with a blanket of sparkling white frost. The night sky shone with silver flecks of burning gas, and the house before us was lit with gentle, warm tones, a fire that swaddled you in comfort and goodness.

"I was here this morning," I said. My voice sounded like someone had slathered sandpaper over my vocal cords. Sure felt like it, too. "Somehow, it's like it was forever ago."

"How was he?" Markus asked. When I looked up at him, I found he was shaking.

"Just like always, yelling about Russians and philosophy."

Markus's lips pulled to one side in a pained smile, and he reached out and mussed up my hair. "What am I going to do with you?"

I frowned, but didn't move away. It'd been ages since Markus and I had spent any time together, let alone peaceful times. "What's that mean?"

"You think I don't know?" He smirked, and I realized he was doing all he could to prepare himself for walking into a home he'd deserted. A place he felt he didn't belong in ever again. "I always knew you were a little crazy, but then you went and joined the police. If you'd ever told me you were planning on doing that, I'd have thought you were joking."

"What, you don't think I could do it?" I challenged him.

"You're not exactly cop material, but I guess that's why you got in. The most unexpected people are the ones who change the world, aren't they?"

"Wow, thanks, that was very encouraging," I deadpanned, heading for the porch. My friend smiled as if to say it'd all been in jest, and then he hesitated at the doorstep. I said to him quietly, "And by the way, I always thought you'd be someone to change the world, so you can't really say that anymore."

Markus stepped up onto the porch beside me and his expression wobbled. He sucked in a deep breath. I reached out and squeezed his hand. "I should've come back sooner," he whispered. "I left him there."

"I left him, too. I left you both, and I never told any of you why." Markus looked down at me and his cheek ticked as if a muscle had jumped.

"After this, I need to talk to you about Connor."

I pulled out of his grasp. "He's not here to hurt you-"

"No, that's not what I mean," he said. He gazed down at me with those two different colored eyes, and I started. I no longer saw his blue iris as foreign, but as a part of him. It expressed everything that made Markus himself. Kindness, patience, and understanding. "I meant something else. Something I can already see you don't want to talk about, which can only mean I'm right."

"I swear to God, everyone just looks at me and they know I'm in love with him. Is it that obvious? I've never been so sloppy at hiding anything before and then the one thing I desperately try to hide, everyone just can tell." I sighed in exasperation. Markus didn't respond. I raised my gaze to his and found him standing there with his mouth agape. "Oh...that's not what you were referring to, was it?"

My friend closed his mouth and shook his head as if he were giving himself a mental shake, and then said, "Not at all, this is news to me. This is the guy who tried to shoot me today, right?" he asked, as if he'd thought he'd misheard me. I winced, answer enough, and his eyebrows shot up so high I thought they'd detach themselves from his face and skip right over his scalp. Markus pursed his lips in what I could only assume was absolute bafflement. "Anyway, we'll be here forever if we keep talking, because now I have more questions than I did before."

As I stood there, awkward as ever, wondering if my skills as a special agent had all been a lie or a stroke of luck, Markus took one final step forward and the door swung inward. A robotic female voice said, "Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Markus."

The android's face crumpled for a second, and he let his gaze fall to the ground. He teetered where he stood, as though he were considering turning back around and never returning. Markus gathered himself and I hung back, indicating he needed to enter first. He needed to take that first, terrifying step back into his past so he could fix it.

He entered the foyer. The interior was too bright, too warm, too peaceful in the wake of the massacre. Markus looked like he was floundering, grasping for a road to travel. He wandered over to the entryway table where the gilded mirror hung over it, and glanced down at the long, black answering machine.

Leo's face projected from the device, looking more uncomfortable than a sober Hank on a day-off. If Leo was asking for drug money, I'd put out a warrant for him. I was tired of the shit he made Carl endure in what were likely his last years.

"Hi, Dad…I'm getting outta the hospital tomorrow. They told me that you stayed with me while I was asleep." He faltered, opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air. "I...um...I'm really sorry about everything that happened. I'm gonna stop all that shit. It messes me up, it turns me into somebody I hate." A scowl shuttered over his features, one of disdain and self-loathing.

Markus and I glanced at each other, astonished.

"So, I'd like to come by and see you tomorrow...if that's alright with you." Leo glanced down and stuttered, "I just wanna let you know, I'm...I'm proud to be your son."

The recording shut off and Markus smiled, almost sadly. "He seemed remorseful, for once."

A breath whooshed out of me, and I cleared my throat. "He's lucky. I was this close to writing up his arrest."

Markus placed a hand on my shoulder before starting up the staircase leading to Carl's room. I wandered over to the birdcage and set to winding them up. My motions were mechanical, and driven by habit. Halfway through the second wind-up bird, I stilled.

Where was Connor?

He was fighting Amanda in his head, that much was established, but I had no idea where he was physically. We were supposed to talk, to help each other through what we weren't supposed to be feeling, to shoulder each other's burdens. And between one blink and the next, he'd been stolen away from me.

I spun the key in the wind-up bird's belly and placed it back into the cage alongside its mate, then I locked the cage and headed upstairs. The temptation to message my partner itched in my fingertips, and I shut my eyes in an attempt to block out the panic threatening to drown me.

Rounding the corner, I found Markus clutching onto the caretaker android's arm. Their skin was pulled back to reveal porcelain white, just like when Connor had pressed the Stratford deviant for information. It had to be some kind of communication, or, as the news had speculated, a way for Markus to convert androids to his cause, to 'wake' them up. "Please," Markus begged him, "I need to see him."

The android replied, "He's very weak. I'm not sure he'll be able to talk to you."

Carl had been fine earlier this same day; what had happened?

Markus slowly let go of the android and walked into Carl's room. The caretaker stood to the side, his arms crossed before him. He looked at me with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm with Markus," I said lamely. How could I even recount the events that had led up to this?

The android's features twitched with regret. "Markus showed me what happened. I'm sorry for your loss."

I flinched.

"Where's Connor?"

"I don't know," I murmured, and his eyebrows drew together. "Is Carl going to be okay?"

Complete hopelessness colored his face. "His chances of passing are equal to his chances of recovery. He grew weak after seeing the news this afternoon, and I had to confine him to his bed. Are you not going in?"

"Markus should have some time alone with him," I said. It'd been so long since he'd left Carl, he needed a moment with him.

"I'd like to agree with that sentiment, but Carl's not doing well. I think you should go in," he whispered, and that statement sent fear skating along my nerves like ice cracking beneath my feet.

"Do I have blood on my face?" The android looked at me with alarm, but shook his head. I'd hoped the little swim from earlier had washed it away, but it didn't hurt to check - Carl didn't need another shock. Gathering my courage, I rolled my shoulders back and strode through the door. Markus sat on a small sliver of the bed where Carl lay, synced up to several monitors measuring his blood pressure, pulse, and a bunch of other calibrations I couldn't understand.

Carl's breaths were shallow, and his hand rested atop Markus's feebly. There was a small creak beneath my feet as I stepped into the room and my shadow fell over them.

Markus raised his head. His gaze was wet with tears. I'd never seen him so lost and scared before, and I couldn't even imagine what it must've been like on that night which changed his life.

Carl called out my first name, weakly, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. I rushed towards him and buried my face in the crook of his shoulder. Somehow, he still smelled like eggs and paint. "Hey, Carl," I said in a strangled voice.

"Why does your voice sound so funny? Never mind that, what are you doing here?"

I smoothed out his shirt with a soft smile. "I bit my tongue pretty bad, but it's okay. How could I not come visit you again, I already missed you." Carl rolled his head on his pillow and scoffed, but there was an obvious gleam of happiness in his eyes.

"Where's Connor? You didn't scare him away, did you? Men never know what to do with their feelings, and then they wonder why they get into so much trouble later." His words were muddled with lethargy. "You know, I'd hoped maybe you and Markus might get closer, you two were always together. I thought you were the reason he started to take an interest in art."

Markus and I exchanged startled glances.

Carl chuckled, then he sighed. "Leo's coming to visit me tomorrow." A carefree grin spread over his face, and I hoped to whatever God would listen that they would grant him time to spend that tomorrow together with his son. He deserved it. And then Carl's shoulders fell, and his eyes fluttered closed with a deep breath.

"He's only sleeping," Markus murmured reassuringly, slowly rising from his seat. He gazed down at Carl as I kissed the older man's cheek.

"I'll see you later, Carl," I whispered.

We left Carl's room. The android had stationed himself outside, and looked at us with a despondent expression. "Thank you," Markus appealed to him, dipping his head. "I'd offer to take you with us, but Carl needs you, and I don't think you'd leave him, anyway. Please let me know if anything changes."

"Carl's one of the most compassionate individuals I've had the pleasure of caring for. I'll help him until the end of his days. I want him to know he's not alone."

Before Markus and I had gone to visit Carl, we'd sought refuge in the remains of an abandoned church. The way back there took us through a sprawling graveyard, and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if the next time I passed through here, Carl's grave had been added. He was old, but surely he'd make it for the next few weeks, at the very least. He had to.

As we entered the dilapidated church, North accosted us. She greeted Markus before turning around and pinning me with a hard gaze. Markus passed by her to speak to Kara and Alice, who were huddled together on one of the pews.

"I'm sorry," she said, gnashing her words like they tasted awful in her mouth. "For Oliver. I knew he was going to attack you, and I wanted him to. But it felt wrong when I saw him try to kill you."

"Um, well thanks for stopping him," I said, unsure how to respond to that.

She chewed her bottom lip. "Chloe said Kamski sent her here to give her freedom. I didn't believe that shit for a second, but it seems like he meant it. She said you're in love with that ass who tried to kill us?"

Jesus, everyone and their mom would know at this rate. "Not that Connor, but yes."

She snorted good-naturedly. "If the revolution succeeds, you may be able to have a life with him. It'll be short-lived, but it's something."

North walked away, her long fiery braid bouncing between her shoulder blades. I couldn't stop the tiny, bemused smile from curling my lips. I'd like to befriend her, for some reason. It'd been ages since I'd had a true friendship with another woman. It wasn't that women weren't in the force - they were - but there were only a few, and I was always on a mission. Not exactly the prime time for forming friendships past who I already was acquainted with. Even if said 'friendships' involved Perkins, so maybe they weren't that solid in the first place. Chloe slid off her seat in the pew, and North leaned in and planted a kiss on her mouth.

She was right. I was human, he was an android. Short-lived was a depressing, albeit honest way of looking at it. God, where was he? As I snaked through the aisle of deviants still staring at me, making my way towards a corner by the stairs, I fished out my cell and weighed my options.

I found Markus speaking to Simon, who was valiantly doing his best not to ogle the deviant leader and failing quite miserably. His blue eyes shone with regret for all who'd died, but they glittered each time Markus glanced down at him. It was like watching myself and Connor almost.

Are you okay? Please, let me know you're alright. I hit send and resisted the urge to pick at my hands.

Markus padded toward me, angling his head up the stairs, and I followed him up onto the dais. "Sit down," he said, settling onto one of the crumbling chairs. I scooted mine closer to him, and he glanced at the phone in my hands curiously.

"What's up?" I asked, feigning indifference.

"Frankly, I'm not sure where to begin," he admitted, bracing his forearms on his knees. "I had it all planned out until you hit me with that news earlier." My face crumpled as if I'd bitten into a sour grape and he snorted. "Is your tongue alright? Just what on earth happened?"

I scratched at my chin. "Um, so the other Connor, he tried to bite it out of my mouth."

Markus made an O with his lips, and then gave me a noncommittal noise. "If it's any consolation, the oral cavity is one of the quickest parts of the human body to heal." Sometimes it was obvious that he and Connor had similar processing units.

"Yeah, lucky me..." I trailed off. "At least I didn't lose the tongue, that'd be unfortunate."

"You sound awful," he said, in a tone that suggested he desperately needed me to know this. Maybe realising how harsh that statement was, he added hastily. "But you're intelligible, so that's good."

"Come on, Markus, ask what you're gonna ask. You're never this awkward."

He held up a hand. "First, this has nothing to do with what I need to ask you. Did you have a crush on me?"

I balked. He'd been stuck on that since Carl mentioned our spending time together? Why? "You're right, that isn't relevant to anything at all right now. And yes, I did. But I knew nothing would happen. It was just a small crush."

For the first time since Jericho, a real smile played across his mouth. "I always thought you were a very pretty young woman."

"Damn, if you'd said that to me a while ago I might've really fallen for you," I teased him.

"I'm afraid Carl would've had a lot of fun with that," he agreed, going along with the joke. Then his voice dropped an octave as he became more serious. "But now, I have a people to free. And...there's someone I've come to care for."

"Simon?" He jerked his head up as a wash of blue spread over his cheeks. "Wow, lucky guy. You haven't told him?"

"This isn't exactly the best time, you know. But no. And I know he feels the same way, but again, this just isn't the time."

I reached over and slapped his knee. "You try telling North that. The future is uncertain, might as well live like it's your last day. It could be."

At that, he straightened. "If you took your own advice you'd be more at ease."

With an exhale, I withdrew the sodden journal and ran my fingers along the water-damaged cover. "That's what I plan on doing."

Markus nodded at the journal. "When Connor came to shoot me, he was fighting to become a deviant. He didn't succeed, though he didn't shoot me either. I don't know much about love, or why we fall for who we do, but I know it when I see it." Markus stared at me so intently it terrified me, because there was no turning back now. "He'll lose to Amanda at this rate, but if you, or Hank, confront him, I think he'd give his all to escape her clutches. I'm almost jealous with how much you care for him. Even now, you're worrying about him."

"I love him," I murmured. "I've been so afraid of admitting it to myself because if I did, it meant that I was lording my own selfish desires over him, that I was jeopardizing my mission - but I blinded myself to his own wants in the process, which is just as bad. I denied his autonomy."

Markus clasped his hands together in his lap. "I was scared of facing the future, of deciding the lives of my people. I can't run away from that, and you can't run from your duties, either."

My friend got to his feet, his chest swelling with inner strength. His trenchcoat brushed his legs with the aid a small draft from the decrepit walls, and in that moment, he looked the very picture of a messiah. He strode to the front of the dais and spoke in a voice like the tolling of a bell. They wouldn't attack the humans; they'd go down peacefully.

For one second, he directed his gaze at Simon. The young blonde man's clapping paused for a moment, and he glanced away shyly. Then his gaze flitted back to Markus, and I wished I'd been down in that crowd to see what expression Markus had made for him.

A quarter to eleven that night, we took to the streets in a crowd, armed only with our hopes and our dreams. I kept Emma's phone in my hand and my gaze peeled for Connor. I knew that ahead, Perkins and his team awaited us.

Fuck them all, we'd do this.

And then my phone rang. "Connor? Is that you? Are you alright?" I picked up the call without bothering to see who was on the other end, and a gruff voice snarled back at me with clear annoyance.

"Phillips, will you fuckin' calm your tits? Loverbot is up on the building - look up, no, to your left. Right here."

I nearly dropped the phone then and there. Several of the androids had to move around me for I'd halted completely. A swirl of flakes covered my vision for a brief second, and when they passed, I saw the glint of the moonlight catch the sleek metal of a sniper rifle. Connor was on top of the roof, and he was busy assembling the weapon's parts.

The phone continued to roar at me, and I pressed it against my ear. "Yes?"

"Get the shit up here, you damn idiot. He's gonna kill Markus."

"I'm coming," I said, sprinting straight for the building. I burst through the doors, startling the receptionist. "FBI, let me up onto the roof," I demanded, flashing my badge.

The android woman processed the information in just a millisecond before pointing to the staircase.

I took the stairs three at a time, struggling to do so thanks to my short legs. Why was being short a good thing, again?

"Where are you?" I asked Hank, panting into the phone's speaker.

From his end of the line, I heard Hank's muffled voice, matched by a smooth, cold one replying to him. It set my heart on fire, or maybe that was just the cardio I was currently doing. I should've asked for an elevator. The phone clicked off, and I cursed, shoving it into my pocket.

Finally, the door! I shoved through it, a loud clang in the dead of the night.

Hank's voice carried over the gales of the wind. He didn't bother to glance back at me. "You're gonna kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business." he was saying. He stood a few feet away from Connor, who had set his rifle atop the rooftop railing. He was hunched over the weapon like a predator focusing in on his prey. Markus was down there.

I heard the click of the safety go off, and Connor said, "It's not a man, it's a machine."

Hank's voice was ripe with warning. "That's what I thought for a long time but I was wrong. Deviant's blood may be a different color than mine, but they're alive." I recalled the post-it note on Hank's desk, the one that said 'We don't bleed the same color', and I approached them. Connor, who had been gearing up to look through his scope, cocked his head to the side like a bird, actually listening to him.

The wind had picked up, sending Hank's hair fluttering. Mine was also lifted by the breeze, and the freezing temperatures didn't fail to produce a layer of goosebumps along my skin, covered up though I may be.

Connor wasn't a deviant yet, but he could be. Markus had said so, and I'd seen more than enough evidence for it myself.

Hank glanced at me, and I knew that he intended to handle this situation himself. He believed Connor knew this was wrong, and he had no idea how right he was. I kept my hand on my gun and stepped back to show I was giving him the floor.

"I have a mission to accomplish, Hank. It's best if you just stay out of this," Connor snapped. "Deviants are a threat to humans, Hank. They're the reason this country is on brink of a civil war! They have to be stopped."

It was both Connor and not Connor all at once.

"We're in this mess because we refused to listen to deviants! Humanity never learns from its mistakes, Connor." He said his name like he would chastise a belligerently stubborn child. "All this time, we were enslaving a people, and when they fought back, we called them monsters for it. We always say we'll fix the past, but even with all of the knowledge we have, we can't even do that. This time it could be different." He was pleading, like he'd done when he'd confessed he regretted writing me up as the Android Sympathizer. I'd never wanted to hear that tone in his voice again, it hurt.

Hank spared me an apologetic glance before he unholstered his gun and trained it on our partner. He wanted to talk the android down, but I knew if Connor attacked, we'd have to shoot him.

For one horrifying moment, I saw was Daniel. Hank looked to me, as if to say it would be alright. As if he knew what I was seeing. How it felt to drive the knife into Daniel and shove him over the edge. Hank wouldn't let that happen, he seemed to tell me in that look.

"Step away from the ledge!" Hank ordered.

Connor deliberately took a second before he rose, sniper in hand, a power-play. He passed a cold glance over me, then he stared at Hank. It was like he'd not even recognized me. My chest heaved.

"What are you gonna do, Hank?" Connor spread his arms. "You gonna shoot me? I thought android lives mattered to you." He accompanied his words with an ironic twist of his lips.

Hank didn't give a shit about his words being turned on him. "Get away from the fuckin' ledge. You know I'll shoot you if I have to."

I was prepared for a snide comment, but not this. This was too low.

"I know what happened to your son, Hank." My Lieutenant lifted his chin a fraction as if he couldn't believe Connor would dare try this. "It wasn't your fault." The older man's gaze dropped for a second. "A truck skidded on a sheet of ice, and your car rolled over...little Cole had just turned six." Somehow, it sounded like a joke to Connor. HIs expression, his tone, even the words...they were just wrong, nothing like the Connor I had come to love.

"Shut up!" Hank snarled. "Don't you talk about my son."

But Connor was nothing if not obstinate. For once, it wasn't endearing. "He needed emergency surgery. But no human was available to do it, so an android had to take care of him...poor Cole didn't make it."

Now he was pissing me off. Fucking Amanda, this had to be her doing.

Connor nodded to himself, as if laughing at the answer staring him in the face. Then his voice rose. "An android killed your son, Hank! And now you wanna save them?"

"No," Hank said, in a shaken voice, "Cole died because a human surgeon was too high on red ice to operate."

Connor's calculated glare roved over the man, as if he couldn't believe he'd messed up his prediction of the outcome. He seemed to be trying to process whether Hank was lying, or if he'd found the wrong information.

"All this time I blamed androids for what happened, but it was a human's fault! Him and this fucked up world, where the only way people can find comfort is with a fistful of powder."

Jesus Christ, Connor, what have you done? It's not like I could blame him entirely for this. He had no idea what damage his words would do, and I had a feeling this was more Amanda than Connor speaking, but he'd poked the bear too much. Now he could either jab that stick once more, or drop it all and leave.

His LED flashed yellow as he considered his options. Connor bent down to drop his weapon. Hank narrowed his eyes and raised his own cautiously. And then Connor swung the rifle up and at Hank, who covered his face only in the nick of time to avoid the blow. Hank fired a shot that went wide as Connor raced over and angled Hank's gun down at the ground. He pulled the magazine out of the gun, and threw the weapon into the air.

Hank arced a punch at Connor, who twisted out of the way, grabbed Hank's arm, and used his body weight to spin and throw him against the metal heater.

"Hank!" I levelled my gun at Connor, who looked over at me at the shout. His gaze was filled with a bitter cold.

"Don't fire!" Hank roared, reaching up and tearing the grating off the heater. He threw it at Connor, who dodged and dove straight for him. Hank slid the young man up over his back as if to bodyslam him against the ground, but Connor jammed an elbow hard into his spine and Hank dropped him onto another heater. Hank's fist connected with the metal, and the sound reverberated through the night.

I drew closer, training my gun on Connor. "I hope you know what you're doing, I outrank you! I'll shoot if I must!" I shouted.

Connor wrapped his arms around Hank in a chokehold; the Lieutenant spun around with him and they ran backwards into the heater. A choked cry escaped his throat as Connor's grip tightened, but somehow he managed to turn them around and throw Connor into a metal pole. He succeeded in dislodging him and got on top of Connor, throwing punches at him that had little effect.

"Hank, I swear to God if you don't have a plan I will shoot him." I really didn't want to shoot Connor, holy shit no, but if he was going to kill Hank, I'd do it.

Connor wrapped a hand around Hank's neck, pushing him off him as easily as a child discards a ragdoll, and threw several nasty punches at his head. Scarlet blood streaked down his temple.

That's it, I was going to have to shoot someone at this rate. Hank struggled to move, and we both saw Connor's gaze flick to his weapon on the ground. He kicked at Connor, who grabbed his leg and started dragging him back. Hank flung his arm out and gripped onto the metal pole, using the momentum to kick Connor back into the railing. He hit his back against it with a loud clang.

I circled around, searching for an opening, but Hank fucking got in my way again and I couldn't shoot. I should've tried, because Hank, who'd attempted to smash Connor's head into the railing, fell to his knees when Connor easily tripped him. The man I was in love with grabbed the man I thought of as a father, and dashed his head against the railing.

I fired a warning shot near Connor but the situation had devolved into dire straits at this point, rendering my actions useless. "Stop it, both of you! I will fucking shoot you, Connor!"

So much for outranking them. Hank collapsed as the railing fell away from the building and over the edge. He was bleeding from the temple and the back of his head, and he was panting for breath. Then, to my horror, Connor picked Hank up by the lapels of his jacket and held him over the edge.

If I shot Connor, he'd lose his balance and let go of Hank. My finger twitched on the trigger. Hank threw me a pointed look that said trust me - like sure, I'll just let a rampaging not-quite-Connor-beast end your goddamn life, you moron - and looked at Connor.

He spread his arms out like he was a flying squirrel, and said, "Moment of truth, Connor. What are you gonna do?"

Connor's features tightened. If I moved suddenly, Connor would drop him. If I shot Connor, he'd drop him. Fucking hell.

Hank had given over his agency to Connor, handed him his life and his death on a platter. There had been one very important reason why Connor couldn't find that backdoor: Markus had said he'd tried to go deviant, but he couldn't. Connor may have realized he had feelings for me then, but he also needed to understand just how much he cared for Hank. To everyone, it was clear Connor saw him as a father figure. Connor needed to accept that, and break free. Amanda may have tried to reprogram Connor, or take control of him, but she couldn't overwrite his wants. He could only listen to her, that was her only stake in this. She'd underestimated how much Hank cared for Connor, and likewise, how much Connor cared for Hank - although this scuffle had certainly made me question that friendship.

Connor's LED flared red and he hissed through his bared teeth, as if in pain. His movements didn't help to balance out Hank, who was dangling by one foot on the edge. Then Connor hunched over, and roared in pain. It hurt to listen to, made my stomach shrivel. He screamed in pure, raw agony and shuddered violently.

"Connor, look at me," Hank urged. "Open the backdoor, and let's go home."

Connor grabbed his coat collar, and I screamed, "Don't do it!", but I didn't need to. He whirled around and threw Hank to the ground, and he then slipped off the edge of the roof. I didn't think.

I dropped my gun and leaped for him.

My hand circled around his wrist. Fuck, he was heavy. I thought they were made of titanium, but it seemed like they also had some mercury shoved in there just for the hell of it.

"I got you!" Hank roared, snagging my ankle. Oh my God, I didn't realize just how high up we were. The ground stretched away far below in a dizzying swirl of white, and the wind whipped past us. Connor stared up at me with wide eyes. If he fell here, the new Connor model might not be the same, might not be so close to deviancy.

His LED flickered crimson again, and I gasped, "Hank, pull me up, I can't hold onto him forever!"

"Why the shit are you so heavy?" he exclaimed.

"Does that matter? Also, rude!" I cried, and with a grunt, Hank pulled on my leg. It was almost pitiful how little I moved. Then he tried again, and again, and his voice grew hoarse and finally, he pulled me up just enough to dig a hand into the back of my hood and pull me over, effectively cutting off my air in the process for the third time today.

We toppled to the floor in a heap, gasping for air and coughing. The back of my head hurt, and I realized I must've hit my head on the concrete of the rooftop.

"Jesus," Hank said between breaths, "I thought I was gonna drop you two." He sank against the ground, as if he couldn't get up. After that fight, I was impressed he'd been able to save us at all.

I struggled to sit up, and then slapped him. Lightly, though, I didn't want to exacerbate his head wounds. "I don't give a shit how badly you're hurt; you don't get all riled up and bodyslam each other! What are you, five? I was this close to shooting at you guys, and I would've hit something bad. Give me a fucking warning, you bastard."

Connor scrambled to his feet and oh no, he was not getting away with this. I probably should've made certain he wasn't still in the mood to kill Markus, but I didn't care. I shot to my feet and I backhanded him across the face. He jerked back on his heels, and his neck snapped around as he opened his mouth in bewilderment. Okay, this was the real Connor.

"And you!" I jabbed a finger at him. "Fuck you! You took off because you were too much of a pussy to calm down and face the music. You just left me there, and I had no idea where you went or how you were." Tears pricked my eyes and I screwed my face up. Connor was staring at me as if he'd never seen anything like me before. Not that I could blame him, I'd never lost my temper like this in front of him, but frankly I didn't care. "You fucking slammed his head against the railing, you could've killed him! What is wrong with you!"

Connor tilted his head and said, "A lot, apparently. Although, that was originally CyberLife's programming, so technically it is all correct."

"You little smartass, this isn't funny. You do realize I almost shot your head in, right?" Now that I thought about it, that would be a really bad thing to do. Another Connor would take his place, just like the one who'd tried to rip my tongue out with his teeth earlier today.

"I used the backdoor. I actually did it!" When he saw the scowl on my face, he backpedaled and tried to pin the blame on someone else. "Hank turned me into a deviant, Officer!" He tried to excuse his actions.

I glowered at him until he shut up, then clapped my hands in applause. Connor frowned, perplexed. I didn't care how crazy I looked right now, he had no right to do that. He'd hurt Hank, almost killed him. "Wow, would you like a cake to go with it? One that says 'Congrats, you almost murdered my Dad but now you're a deviant!' in chocolate icing?"

Hank chose that moment to lift his head up off the floor and said, "I'm your what now?"

I almost felt bad for ignoring that, but the rage spiking in my blood over what had just almost happened was too important.

"No," Connor said plainly. "I cannot digest food." Was he purposely being a little shit? Didn't matter.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what does His Highness want, then?" I spat.

Connor grabbed my waist, pulled me close to him, and said, "You."

"I wasn't actually asking, Connor. Let me yell at you."

My partner smiled that strange little smile of his, and his LED flared yellow. "Officer, as much as I want you to yell at me, that's my answer. I want you." I was dumbfounded for a few seconds. He wanted me to yell at him? I wasn't sure if that was a kink for some people - wouldn't surprise me if Gavin had that - but that didn't matter.

"Did you not hear what I said? I wasn't asking you for an answer," I snapped. Dammit, Connor, let me have this.

Connor tilted my chin up with a finger, and then he pressed his lips against mine. I was so shocked that I opened my mouth to retort before my brain could process what was going on, and he slid his other hand behind my neck and drew me closer, sealing my lips entirely with his. They were soft and warm, and they cooled the fury bubbling within me. I forgot where I was, I forgot that Hank was lying down on the ground watching everything and probably cursing me out in his head.

With every breath I took, Connor matched my pace. His head turned, and his mouth slanted over mine, slow and almost lackadaisical. Like all he wanted was to stand on the roof in the middle of the winter and kiss me until he thawed me from the inside out. The hand he'd used to draw my face up to his travelled down to my lower back and tugged me flush against him. His fingers tapped a dance along my spine, careful not to twirl too low.

There was electricity charging up my veins, sparking in my stomach, and dancing along my lips.

He sighed against my mouth and I parted my lips once more for him. It was like nothing else mattered. Connor's teeth clacked against mine; I reached up and twined my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and angling him so our mouths fit together. His hands were tangled in my hair, his breaths were growing ragged with desire, and his tongue was hot in my mouth. I didn't care how my own was still terribly sore, I just wanted him closer, so I pulled him down to me.

Hank was yelling in the background, and I was vaguely aware how highly inappropriate for work this was, especially when Connor let out a throaty moan which ignited my senses into overdrive. He broke away to press his mouth against the pulse throbbing in my neck, kneading it with his lips, and I shivered, going limp in his arms.

A loud shot sounded, jolting us apart. Only a few inches from my foot was a bullet in the ground. I looked up at Connor. He looked down at me, his lips slightly swollen and red. We'd been way too caught up in our own little world, because Captain Allen had appeared without us noticing, and now stood with his gun raised at us. He never fired, not unless his first, second and third warning didn't do anything.

"Officer Philips, step away from the android. Special Agent Perkins has placed you under arrest," he said.

Hank chose that moment to say, "I was yelling at you, but nooo, it's far too important to eat each other's faces than listen to me, huh?"