Part 2 of the Sixty Squad Exchange 2023 - write a Reverse AU version!

"Shit..." Sixty gripped the hole in his side. Blood dripped through his fingers like a running faucet. He wasn't sure he could run much further, though it didn't sound like anyone was following him anymore. Having tripped down the slope and tumbled into the android recycling plant, he probably shouldn't be surprised. They knew he'd been hit. They also knew there were no humans around to help him. Not trapped down in the landfill anyway. To get out, he'd have to haul himself up the steep slope of mangled android parts he'd fallen down. He'd been shot, it was cold and raining, and he had no way of calling for help with the lack of signal. He was pretty much done for. Fuck, I should have listened to Nines when he said going to the FBI was a bad idea! He'd only left to carve his own path. The last thing he wanted was to turn into Nines, forever living in Connor's shadow and cleaning up his messes. Guess I won't be doing either now. Fuck!

He fell to the ground with a grunt, shivering as he landed face first in an icy puddle. It soaked through his shirt and slacks, making him lose his gun. The sidearm clattered just out of reach, leaving him feebly reaching out. It hurt too much. With a groan, he curled up on his side, keeping the gunshot wound out of the dirty water he'd fallen into. If he had the energy, he would have moved, but between the pain and the cold, all his energy was going into shivering and clutching his side. Fuck, I'm really not getting out of this...It was hard to think about what would happen after.

How long would it take someone to find his body? He was on active duty, so hopefully the others on his team would put two and two together and find him within a day. It wouldn't be pretty if they didn't. This was a recycling plant, so there weren't too many critters, but that didn't mean rats and seabirds didn't haunt the area. The thought of a greedy seagull pecking his eye churned his stomach. If his team didn't find him, his body could be lying there for weeks, maybe even months. How often did actual humans walk through these pits? Never was his guess. Even the androids tossed down the slope would be no help. Deactivated, broken husks, often split into their base parts.

What if one of his brothers found him sometime down the line? He didn't even want to imagine the look on their faces when they found his pecked up, chewed up, rotting corpse. It wouldn't be much better if they were asked to identify him later, either. Considering Connor had already lost his son and fiancé, this would be another huge blow to their family. It would probably be even worse for Nines. While Connor had spiralled and relied on Nines to cover for and baby him, Nines relied on Sixty. He needed someone he could talk to for support. It wouldn't really be an exaggeration to say Connor had been a terrible brother for the past few years. Sixty hadn't spoken to his twin much for over a year, and Nines only dealt with his antics when it would make him look bad these days.

He gave a feeble effort to flop himself out of the puddle. The cold would probably make him die quicker, and if he wanted any chance at all, he had to keep his wound clean. He rolled with a pained huff, managing to get clear of the puddle itself and lie on the hard, lumpy ground. He considered himself lucky it was cement and not just mud. Knowing his luck, he would have sunk into a pit of wet mud and drowned. Now on his back, he sighed, gritting his teeth and glaring up into the falling rain. At least the drops would wash his tears away. Not that he was crying. He wasn't crying. His chest quivered and tightened, throat aching as he tried to sit up. He didn't even get three inches before falling back with a pathetic whimper.

His skin was probably pale at this point. The warmest part was his gut where the blood kept gushing out. How he even had any left at this point was a miracle. It felt like he'd been bleeding for hours, though he knew it could only be a few minutes since he'd fallen down the slope. He was lucky he hadn't broken anything on the way down. If I don't move, I'm going to die. Nothing had ever been more certain. He swore he could already hear the sound of curious rats creeping closer, itching for their next meal. There was sloshing in the puddles, and light scraping, scuttling sounds. Fuck!

"What the-" Sixty balked as something grabbed his ankle. Not hopped on, not pulled or nibbled. Grabbed. His brow furrowed in disbelief as he raised his head just enough to see the mechanical hand gripping the joint. His mind blanked with incomprehension. It was a hand! An android hand! With no body attached! He wasn't even sure such a thing should be possible, but there wasn't exactly time to think about it as a second hand landed on his shoulder and pressed him down. "Hey!" He was indignant as he grabbed the wrist and pulled the fingers free, brandishing the arm like a club as more battered hands started dragging their way towards him. What is this Hollywood horror bullshit? He'd never seen anything like it.

Fearful wails fled his lips as he swung the severed arm, bludgeoning the grabby hands and knocking them aside. Unfortunately, doing that was sapping his strength and pulling his wound. The swinging was also making his heart pump faster, pushing more blood out in the process. He yelled in alarm as a whole android torso started pulling its way towards him, gritting his teeth and battering its plastic head as it finally reached him and clawed at his wounded side. He didn't doubt for a second the thing was trying to kill him. Why wouldn't it? The pain made his eyes swim, fear swelling in his stomach as plastic fingers pressed his wound. He yelped in surprise as a boot stamped on the android's back, hazel eyes stunned as they rose to find a second, far more complete android standing over him.

Sixty couldn't even form words, watching in mute horror as the new android leaned down and grabbed the skull casing of the broken torso. Without a hint of remorse, he ripped its head off and tossed it aside. That seemed to be enough for the rest of the arms to scatter, dragging themselves off in every direction like spooked rodents. Sixty's pale lips quivered as he stared up at the broken android. It only had one eye. The right socket was cracked and empty, surrounded by a plastic halo that melded into glitching flesh. Its left arm was missing above the elbow, leading a jagged stump of cables and shattered plastic. The android didn't even seem to notice him as it leaned down and turned over the broken torso, staring at it with his one grey eye. After a moment, he twisted the android's left arm off. Without pausing, he reached for his own jagged stump and twisted it off at the shoulder before tossing it away and replacing it with the upgrade.

"W-wait-please-don't-" Sixty gripped his side with one weak hand and held his free arm across his face as the android finally turned on him. Terror gripped his chest as he closed his eyes, whimpering as a hand landed on his shoulder and held him down against the wet ground. His lips quivered, small sobbing sounds slipping out as that one grey eye stared at his face and ran over his frail body. The shivering was getting worse. His fingers and toes were cold. He could barely feel his nose.

"And-And-Ander-son. Age-Agent J-Jacob Conr-ra-rad Anderson." It had scanned him. It was also broken, though that didn't surprise him a bit. What did surprise him was the fact he'd cannibalised another of his own kind to fix himself. Not that there was much hope for that other guy anyway...Sixty didn't know what else to do besides nodding. "L-Lie Still." He didn't have much choice in the matter as the android knelt beside him and ripped his shirt open. It was hard to believe he could feel any colder, but without his shirt, it was fucking freezing, even though the material was soaked through and cold anyway. A cry fled his lips as the android probed his gushing wound, apparently scanning him further.

"Wh-what are you?" What were you? May have been a more accurate question. The android was still somehow in working order, but clearly suffered major damage before ending up here. Was he like this before, or has he been slowly fixing himself? Considering what he'd seen, it wouldn't surprise him if that was the case. The android didn't answer at first, and Sixty wasn't sure whether it was because he was focused or processing.

"I-I'm a CA600 Cy-Cyberlife issue military model." That explained the cannibalisation at least. Military androids were designed to be compatible with multiple models so they could repair themselves in the field and keep fighting. They also had emergency medical protocols for handling any injured humans they found. Whether they were allies or enemies didn't matter. A prisoner was just as valuable as a comrade. If he remembered correctly, the CA600 models were rather specialised, dealing with special ops. Another question came to mind. Is he deviant? The thought chilled him. If he was a deviant, what did that mean for him? If he's not a deviant, why is he fixing himself?

"What happened to you?" The android's hand twitched on his wound before pressing harder.

"Cl-cl-classified." The LED on his temple span red, lips thinning as he continued holding the wound shut. Alright, shit! Guess I won't be asking that again..."Hol-d o-n...Em-emergency extraction i-n progress." Sixty had no idea what he was talking about. Being a military model, he assumed extraction had something to do with getting help. Hope swelled in his chest as he looked up at his new companion. Military androids were made with signal boosters for their communications array so they could make contact through a lot of interference. Did that mean he'd been able to signal for help?

"O-okay..." He was hesitant to ask if he thought he'd make it. From his own perspective, it didn't look good. His body was starting to feel heavy, his shivers lessening with the lack of energy. Fog filled his head, making his eyelids heavy. He blinked as something struck his face, the sting telling him it was an open hand. The sting helped him focus on the face above him. It was a pretty handsome face. Strong brows, seasoned eyes, rigid cheekbones, and even his hair looked slick and trim. His uniform was tattered, but it reminded him a lot of the armoured suits worn in SWAT. He'd make a good addition...

"Kee-keep your ey-es op-en." That was good advice. Sixty just hoped he'd be able to follow it. It was getting harder by the second. A weak groan rumbled out as the android pinched his wound harder. Whether it was to stop the blood flow or keep him awake, Sixty wasn't sure. The pain made his eyes blink open again so he could glare up at the android, who was utterly unapologetic. He didn't really emote at all, which made sense considering he was an android. From what he could tell, the military models weren't really made for social interactions either.

"What's your name?" Despite their lack of social awareness, he was pretty sure someone would have given him a name. It was easier to talk to them that way.

"Al-Al-All-en. Th-ey called me Allen." Sixty winced a little at the electronic stuttering. He'd clearly damaged his vocal processor somewhere along the line. Sixty would have thought it to be a software issue if not for how competent he was in other areas. He'd had no trouble repairing himself or activating his emergency medical program. A vocal processor was an easy fix. He could do it himself if he weren't so weak and cold. "Your tem-perature is fall-ing..." Yeah, no shit...It was heading towards the end of autumn. Winters were bitter, so he was pretty lucky. In the middle of winter, he would have died of hypothermia already.

"N-no kidding...W-why don't you keep me awake? I know you can't give me details, but...why did they throw you away?" If he could fix himself, it was surprising they'd just tossed him out. Allen's one remaining eye wavered a little, as if considering. Keeping Sixty's mind active would help to keep him awake and improve his chances of survival. He could also omit details to keep the classified things confidential.

"I-I wa-s damaged." That went without saying. "Many of us were...A vi-rus swept through ou-r ranks. Or-orders were disobeyed." That sounded like deviancy. There had been whispers of such a thing happening. Android soldiers abandoning their posts and refusing to fight. Allen didn't seem like a deviant, but it was possible he'd been infected. "Man-many left their posts. W-e were outnumbered. W-e were...deci-deci-decimated." His LED span red at the memory, and Sixty couldn't help wondering who he blamed. The humans who'd made him fight? Or the androids who'd left them behind?

"So they gathered you all up and tossed you down here?" Allen nodded. "But you're still active! Didn't they check first?"

"Wi-with so many infected, i-t was deci-ded that those remaining would be re-recycled." Sixty winced, but it made sense. So far, Cyberlife had been recalling infected androids to stop the spread and study it in the hopes of finding a solution. The only proper way of stopping the spread was recalling the whole lot and starting again. If things kept escalating, they may just do that.

"They didn't deactivate you first?" Allen looked away at that, jaw tightening. Sixty blinked, staring at him as he refused to answer. Did...did he fake it? "You played dead?" He couldn't help smirking as Allen's head turned a little more. His refusal to answer was more than enough. This guy sucks at lying! "Come on, I'm half-dead anyway. You can tell me." The pursing of his lips suggested he doubted it, but what did it matter? He was already on the scrapheap.

"I wa-I was in stasis." Sure you were...

"Were you infected?" Would an android even know? Allen's LED blinked red and yellow at the question.

"I am-am-am-am not-not-not am-not-am-not-" It was like he was stuck in a feedback loop, voice robotic and jerky. His eye had widened, looking almost afraid as he met Sixty's shocked hazel eyes. Sixty reached down, putting all of his remaining strength into grabbing the steady hand on his gut. The android's skin was cold and just a little more rubbery than a real human. It wasn't something he'd noticed before, but he rarely came into physical contact with androids. Allen fell silent at the touch, glancing down at their joined hands, both stained with Sixty's blood.

"Hey, it's alright...Being tossed in here would deviate anyone. I get it...I won't tell." With a nod of silent thanks, Allen continued trying to keep him stable. His priority was keeping that wound shut. Sixty had lost a lot of blood already, and his likelihood of survival was dropping by the second. Looking in his HUD, he could see the ambulance approaching the top of the slope. That was good. His signal would lead them down via the quickest route, and Sixty would soon be in good hands. "What's your plan?"

"Plan?"

"Yeah...you want to get out of here?" His one remaining eye went evasive. Certainly, he wanted to leave, but up there was the human world. It wasn't safe for him. "I could use a guy like you watching my back," Sixty added with a somewhat lopsided grin, likely because of the pain in his side. That gave Allen pause. Going out there alone would leave him lost and vulnerable, but perhaps going with this human wouldn't be so bad. "Come on, what good are you going to be down here rusting on the scrapheap?" Though he wouldn't rust, he had a point. The temperature was dropping, and his internal components wouldn't withstand winter temperatures without shelter. Thirium was also limited, coming from barely functional androids he found and fed on. "Come with me." With a nod, Allen updated his internal HUD in case anyone checked. His handler was now listed as FBI Special Agent Jacob C Anderson.

"Ver-y well." Sixty grinned at the news, the sight sending an odd flutter through Allen's chest cavity. Such malfunctions were hardly surprising considering his poor physical condition, though it was surprising it came on so suddenly. He might have said more, only at that moment the sound of running footsteps interrupted them as four emergency medical personnel approached. There was one human and three androids, one of whom reached out to interface for details on Sixty's condition. From his place on the ground, Sixty watched through squinted eyes as the medic and Allen joined hands, following the blue glow trickling across their white hands as they touched. Both androids stood rigid as the exchange was made, and as they drew back, Sixty noticed the red blink of the medic's LED. Did he just...He huffed softly as the medic met his gaze with almost anxious eyes. I guess Detroit's going to get pretty interesting over the next few months.