HERE IS CHAPTER TWO! NOT MUCH TO DO BUT THANK THE ANONYMOUS REVIEWER, Amikaze! You are so sweet, my friend! Hope you like this chapter!
I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS, TOO!
GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!
~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER
=#=#= (Three Years After Markus Arrives) =#=#=
"Do you think I am helping?" Markus asks suddenly. We're walking down the street, hand in hand, to pick up a paint order, get Markus new clothes, and pick out a dress for our upcoming perspective opening.
"Helping what?" I ask. Markus frowns.
"Helping Carl. And you. I would hate to see that -"
"Are you kidding?" I ask, laughing.
"No."
"You are helping! A lot!" I reply happily. "Because of you, Dad's actually starting to get out and paint and live again! Since the accident, before you came, I struggled to even get Dad to talk to me for more than a few minutes, much less pick up a paintbrush. He's painting almost more than he used to, he's laughing more and -"
"Go home, android-lover!" I hear a protester scream, just before something flies at me. Markus steps around me and takes the hit, barely flinching.
"Piss off, freaks!" Another yells, and this time, no quick reflexes save my synthetic eye from being struck. I stumble as my vision blurs and warnings flash. The skin healed in moments, but the damage was done. "Oi! She's one of 'em, too!" I turn and deactivate the skin on my limbs and eye.
"I'm not an android!" I scream.
"No, she's worse!" One protestor calls. "She's a filthy cyborg!" I stomp closer in rage.
"So what if I am?! What's it to you?!" I growl. "If there weren't for these advancements in technology, I'd be in a wheelchair, half-blind!" Markus' hand is suddenly on my shoulder.
"Let's move on. There is little point engaging him further." I let him lead me away, flipping him off and reactivating my skin with a huff.
"Why did you do that?" He asks. I frown.
"Because those fricking protestors sit there all day, screaming about how androids screwed them up and how androids stole their jobs, when they should move on and get a new job. Pisses me off." I reply sourly. "Now, let's get those clothes and paints and go home." Markus tilts his head.
"Perhaps we should simply retrieve the paints and return home now. I am in no need of new clothes." I smile.
"I need a dress and it's a formal event, so you need something a little fancier," I remind him. "We'll grab the clothes, then the paints, then go home." I then tug him toward the store. "C'mon!" He lets me lead him into the clothes section. I wander into the women's section and look through the dresses. I've just grabbed one when I am slammed against the wall.
"Those were some big words, bitch. Think you can back 'em up without your plastic boy-toy to save you?" I hear the protester whose rock hit my eye growl. I shove off the wall, whirling and punching him right in the stomach. He wheezes and drops.
"I dunno." I growl. "You tell me." I then slam my combined fists onto his head, knocking him out. I then grab the dress and find Markus, also pinned against a wall. "You have got to be shitting me!" I growl, storming over, knocking people out of the way and grabbing Markus' arm. "Let's go!" I growl. We take off, happening to pass the cashier, dropping a $50 bill on the counter. "Keep the change!" I call back. We then duck into Bellini Paints with just enough time to dodge out of sight before the mob now outside the mall saw us. I pant and lean over as I recover.
"Hello." The android behind the counter greets as if this were completely normal. "Are you here for an order?"
There's silence for a few seconds, then Markus walks over and scans his hand.
"Identification verified." The cashier announces and retrieves the box of paints. "Here is your order, #847. That will be $63.99. Please confirm payment." Markus' LED flashes yellow and so does the cashier's.
"Payment confirmed." Markus intones.
"Transaction complete." The android remarks before Markus turns and leads me from the shop.
"We should find another route home." Markus notes. I frown.
"Well, there's a taxi." Markus nods.
"We should be careful. The protesters are likely still searching for -"
"There they are!" I hear someone call.
"Shit!" I curse as we take off. It's no good, as I'm tripped by a protester I didn't see til it was too late. I go sprawling and before Markus can backtrack to me, the mob is kicking me.
"Bet she lied about being a cyborg!" One yells, likely bruising a rib with her kick.
"Who else would wanna be with an android?!" Another roars. Then, Markus bursts through the crowd.
"Enough!" He calls, standing in front of me before I can say a word. "You engaged us. We defended ourselves. Desist, or -" He goes down, our purchased items now soaked in rainwater.
"Let's beat their asses!" The leader orders, taking a bat from a nearby protester and smacking my synthetic leg with it.
"Agh!" I scream. "Stop!"
"Yer boyfriend there stole our jobs! We want justice!"
"You all just sit here and whine, when you just need to get a new job, assholes." I growl, and am kicked in the stomach for my troubles.
"Let's show these asses what happens when -"
"Break it up!" I hear a cop call, coming into the fray and mercifully helping us up. "Leave it and it's owner alone." He adds, noting that the leader has Markus by the jacket.
"Let us teach these bastards a lesson." The leader replies hotly.
"You damage the android, I'll fine you. You further hurt the woman, and yer ass is going to the station." The cop retorts, deadpan. I decide I like this guy. The leader then lets go of Markus and I move to stand protectively in front of him.
"They'll take your job next. We'll see how you like it." The leader growls. The cop then leads us toward the bus.
"Move along, you two." He says. I nod and reluctantly move to the 'Human' compartment. So much for the taxi...
As always, I sat as close to the android compartment as possible and Markus would try to position himself where I could see him.
When we arrived home, I grabbed Markus' hand again. "Are you sure they didn't hurt you?" I ask. Markus shakes his head.
"They did not damage me. Are you hurt?"
"Not really. Just a bit of bruising, I think." I reply as we walk toward the door.
"May I take a look?" I flush.
"Um...I guess it couldn't hurt...but let's do it before Dad wakes up or I'll never hear the end of it." I mumble, hardly listening as the house computer greets us. I head into my room and sit on my bed as Markus crouches and gently lifts my shirt just enough to see the angry bruising that made it a little hard to breath. I tell myself this wasn't very different then I took my shirt off while running. It doesn't help, but it's the thought that counts. He frowns.
"This is intense bruising, Alex. Your ribs were nearly cracked. We need to take care of this. I should get some ice." I sigh.
"No need. I was gonna take a cool shower, anyway. I don't like hot showers when it's not that cold outside." Markus smiles.
"If you insist. I'll wake Carl and we can get an ice wrap." I feel bad, but I hand him the clothes.
"Sounds good. Sorry to add to your list, but would you mind putting these in the washer? They got muddied when the mob attacked." Markus nods.
"I was about to ask about that." I smile.
"Thanks, Markus. For everything." I add as Markus stands. He nods.
"Of course. I would dislike seeing you hurt."
"Too late." I mumble as he walks away. I then sigh, grab some clothes, and head into the bathroom. All the while, I'm angry. Those people thought I was involved with Markus.
Just because I was holding his hand and chatting with him. And they decided to target me because of it. Markus rose to my defense and got swept up in the craziness. I can't help but think that, if I hadn't held his hand, none of that would have happened. I shake my head. Regardless of the outcome, I would do it again. Those pricks deserve to be on the streets if they resort to violence so quickly.
I meet Markus and Dad in the dining room, having literally and mentally cooled down, and find my bacon and eggs waiting. "Aww, you made some for me, too?" I ask.
"Of course. You need to eat after a workout." I shrug.
"True. Thanks."
"You're welcome, Alex."
"Markus, why don't you find something to do while we eat?" Dad asks. Markus nods.
"Sure." He replies. He then goes to the piano and sits down. The tune he begins to play (you can listen Here, or look up Something You've Never Seen Before from the D:BH soundtrack.) is fairly simple, but it instills a sense of wonder and hope in me. It's like he's pouring those emotions into the music. I hurriedly stuff the food in my mouth and walk over with my bacon in one hand and coffee in the other.
"That was amazing, Markus." I congratulate. Markus smiles and hangs his head a little.
"I just played the notes." He replies, almost sounding shy.
"No, no. it was more than that." Dad protests, wheeling over. "Lately, I've noticed a difference in the way you play. Sometimes, I think you have more humanity than most humans."
"Oh, yeah." I agree. Dad then sighs.
"I have yet to thank you for helping Alex with those demonstrators."
"As I told Alex, I hate to see her hurt." He replies. "I did what I could." Dad clenches his fist.
"Those pricks think they can stop progress by roughing up a few androids. They should just suck it up and get new jobs." I nod.
"I told them that same thing. They didn't like it."
"They also didn't like that you are a cyborg, Alex." Markus points out. Dad growls in anger, then deflates.
"You know, Markus, one day, Alex and I won't be here to protect you. You'll have to protect yourself, determine who you really are, make your own choices. This world doesn't like those who are different, Markus." I put my hand on Dad's shoulder.
"But until then, we'll do whatever we can to help prepare you for that day." Markus seems troubled, but then nods.
"I appreciate that."
"The most important thing to remember, Markus is this; Don't let anyone tell you who you should be." Dad adds. "Now, I'd like to go to the studio." Markus stands and wheels him in. I go and hand Dad a few brushes and the new paints.
"Thanks." Dad says as the machine hoists him up. "Let's see where we left off, shall we? Remove the sheet!" He calls. Markus does, and an amazing blue painting of a man (looking vaguely similar to Markus) is revealed. I watch Dad paint before helping Markus tidy the studio a bit. Dad then declares lowers himself back into this wheelchair. "So, what's the verdict?"
"Too late to add this to the perspective opening tonight?" I ask cheekily. Dad chuckles.
"Yes. What about you, Markus? What's your verdict?" Markus grins.
"Yes, there is something about it. Something I can't...quite define. I guess I like it." I smile.
"Truth is, I have nothing left to say anymore. Everyday that goes by brings me closer to the end. I'm just an old man clinging to his daughter and his brushes…" Dad muses.
My breath hitches. "Dad, you're not in that bad health. You're gonna be fine." Dad sighs, and turns to Markus.
"Carl…" He murmurs, looking hurt and conflicted, like he couldn't decide what to say.
"But enough about me." Dad muses. "Let's see if you have any talent." Markus blinks. "Give it a try. Try painting something." He prompts.
"Paint? But - what - I - painting what?"
"Anything you want." Dad replies, smiling. It was...cute to see Markus look flustered and unsure. It made it all the more difficult to remember that he's an android. "Give it a try." Markus caves and picks up the palette Dad hands him. Markus glances around and then begins to paint. When he's done (remarkably quickly, too), there is a lovely painting of the desk. It's like he took a photo.
"Wow." I breath.
"Yes, it is a perfect copy...of reality." Dad praises, wheeling over. "But painting isn't about replicating the world, it's about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see." Markus frowns.
"Carl, I don't...think I can do that. It's not in my program. I…" Dad chuckles.
"Go on. Go try. Grab that canvas." He prompts, indicating a fresh canvas a few feet away. I lean on the table he'd painted and watch as Markus settles the canvas on the stand. Markus then stands before it, unsure. "Do something for me. Close your eyes." Markus obeys, still unsure of himself and what he's doing. "Trust me." Dad coaxes. "Try to imagine something that doesn't exist. Something you've never seen. Now, concentrate on how it makes you feel, and let your hand drift across the canvas." Markus then dabs the paintbrush into the palette and away he goes. I'm unsure, at first, what he's painting, but it soon becomes quite clear.
Me, bathed in autumn morning light, dressed in one of my running jackets and smiling happily. I then notice I'm holding his hand, leading him along. It could easily have been this morning, walking to the mall. There's something about my expression in the painting...something beyond happiness. Something...like love.
Which, I suppose, is completely accurate, despite my knowing he'd never be able to really return the feeling. Did he, deep down beneath his programming, like holding my hand? I come out of my thoughts to find Markus and Dad looking at me, Dad smiling and Markus almost looking...embarrassed?
"Oh, my God…" Dad breathes, taking in the painting.
"I hope you don't mind…I painted you..." He mumbles. I shake my head, coming to view it closer.
"No, no! I don't mind at -" The door opens and Leo steps in.
"Hey, Dad. Hey, sis." He greets, and I instantly know something is very off about him. His gait is a little wobbly, his pupils are dilated...shit. He's back on Red Ice. Again! There are traces of it on his mouth!
"Leo!" Dad greets. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Yeah, I was in the neighbourhood, thought I'd stop by." He says evasively.
"Leo…" I warn. If he's about to ask what I think he's about to ask…
"Been awhile, right?" He continues as if I hadn't said anything. Dad frowns.
"You alright?" Dad asks. "You don't look so good."
"Oh, yeah, yeah! I'm fine!"
"No, you're not! You're back on Red Ice, aren't you?" I accuse sourly, stepping forward. Leo turns to me.
"No, no! It's not that! I swear! I just...need some cash, Dad." I scoff.
"Lay off, sis! I'm not on Red Ice! The cash just...goes, you know?"
"Well, what did you use the money I just gave you for?" Dad presses. "And don't lie to me, Leo." Leo groans.
"Look, what difference does it make?! I just need some cash, that's all." I roll my eyes.
"You need to get a job, then you wouldn't have to bum off Dad." Dad holds up a hand.
"Alex, that's enough." He turns to Leo. "The answer is no, Leo." He says.
"What?!" Leo barks. "Why?"
"Because even Dad can see you're on Red Ice right now! You 'need' money for drugs!" I snap.
"No, I see what this is." Leo growls. "You'd rather take care of yer plastic toy and cyborg daughter than your real child, huh?" I stomp forward.
"Hey! I didn't ask for these parts," I snap. "but I've grown to like them!" I explain. "They don't make me less human!"
"Yeah, wouldn't wanna be like this thing, right?" Leo screams back at me, motioning angrily to Markus, who remained relatively calm looking.
"His name is Markus!" I growl.
"Like it cares what I call it! I mean, what's it got that I don't?"
"Markus doesn't go drugs, for one thing." I point out, voice low and menacing.
"Is it smarter, too? More obedient? Not like me, right?!"
"Leo, enough!" I bark, but Leo isn't done.
"This thing isn't your son! It's a fucking machine!" He screams, shoving Markus back.
"Leo, stop it! Stop right now!" I roar. I knew Markus wasn't hurt, but still.
"Leo, that's enough!" Dad adds. "Enough!"
"You don't care about anyone but Alex and your goddamn paintings." Leo growls, then seems to notice Markus' painting for the first time. He scoffs. "You've never loved anyone who doesn't do everything you say when you say it." No one knows what to say, so we remain silent as Leo leaves. I sigh.
"I'm gonna go get some lunch…"