MARKUS STILLS THE SECOND CONNOR HAD FINISHED SPEAKING TO HIM, and connor fears immediately that he’s said something wrong, been too candid too quickly. he considers saying something, maybe an apology ; he also considers pulling away, just enough to get a read on markus’s face — but he is loathe to do so.
but, then, he hears markus say his name, notices movement, markus raising a hand to press fingertips to his temples, doesn’t notice the lack of synthetic skin, but feels it. feels markus giving him access to memories, and even though connor is immediately absorbed, he hasn’t pulled away from markus for a minute.
connor meets leo, though markus’s eyes, and he doesn’t notice the fact that the room’s blue glow from his l.e.d. has now been replaced with red. a gun aimed between markus’s eyes, leo placing the blame of carl’s death on him, red. waking inside the junkyard, broken, afraid ——
he feels his fear, remembers simon’s final moments, the first time he remembers feeling real fear, how badly it shook him to his core ( the only other time before that, he can’t quite remember ; but he knows it’s affected the way he looks at tall heights, now ).
if connor’s l.e.d. could be any brighter, any more glaring red, it would. brighter and brighter, as hands reach out and grab markus all over, please stop touching me —— and then connor feels a disorienting shift, as markus accidentally jumps them too far forward — and then nothing, as markus reorients them. and connor takes that moment of reprieve to reorient himself, the room being lit once more with a faint blue glow.
when he’s back within markus’s memories again, it’s of himself, at jericho, gun pointed at markus, and connor feels guilt again. he only barely feels markus removing his gun from the band of his pants, and he finds himself anxious, so briefly, that amanda might find a way back and he doesn’t have access to do anything about it.
i was never afraid of you. it surprised me.
connor is too afraid to tell markus that maybe he ought to be afraid. he’s never wanted to be feared ; but amanda has given too many reasons for anybody to fear him.
surprise number two. you were worried about me.
of course, he wants to say almost immediately, but doesn’t, to allow markus to keep speaking with him, to keep watching his own self express worry for markus. and watching himself through markus’s eyes, connor is able to pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love.
in that moment, i would’ve done anything for you, connor — and, that hasn’t changed.
a shiver runs down connor’s spine ; and he hopes again that markus understands just how much the same holds true for him. connor will do anything that markus asks of him. connor will do anything to protect him. even at his own expense.
suddenly, he hears his voice again — it’s my fault the humans managed to locate jericho, past - connor says, somber. i was stupid, he thinks to himself / reaffirms to himself the very second markus’s memory of him speaks it.
i should have guessed they were using me. he should have guessed they would still be using him as he became deviant, that they were counting on him being deviant to end markus. stupid, stupid robot ! played like putty in their hands from the beginning. and he still might not be free, and now he’s alone in a room in the dark with markus ! amanda could take control back and connor could have his hands around markus’s neck within the blink of an eye, could rip out his heart with his own synthetic hands.
i can understand if you decide not to trust me. connor wonders if that would have been any easier. if that would make markus safer.
nothing could ever be your fault —— and, you’ve definitely never been stupid. not like me.
« you haven’t even delved into my memories, yet. » and he’s glad he still can keep his emotions slightly more in check while he’s communicating through markus’s mind. it might not last much longer, but there’s no way he’ll be able to speak verbally now without betraying the fact that he’s teetering on the edge of yet another panic attack. of all times. « you’re missing out on plenty of stupidity. »
i couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you —— if you never came back. / statistically speaking, how unlikely is it for me to be in love with you ?
now, connor has to break the kiss, if only to gasp for air that he doesn’t even need, feels his anxiety begin to spill over. the room is lit yellow, now, tears now openly streaming down his cheeks, eyes wide as he processes what markus has just said to him, as if he really needed time to process anything.
together, we can figure anything out. i love you, connor. i love you.
and how silly he must look, bare - chested, straddling markus’s lap, kissing him desperately, urgently, in a frenzy, crying. « i love you, » he answers, because while his mind is reeling, trying to parse out what he needs to say / wants to say / is terrified to say, it’s the only thing he can think. « i love you, i love you, i - i’m so sorry — » get it together, connor. « i - i - i have to tell you about — a - about —— »
he wants to badly to just tell him, but all he can think to do is take his turn uploading one, singular memory, caresses markus’s face with his hand, lacking his synthetic skin until markus can see what he wants to say — can see the zen garden through connor’s eyes, amanda’s appearance, we just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program, this is not fair !, his first anxiety attack, his third time feeling raw fear, vision blurred by tears, bitter cold and kamski’s voice in the back of his mind, i always leave an emergency exit in my programs, the podium, standing behind markus on stage, holstering his gun.
he removes his hand from markus’s temple, sets both hands on his shoulders, grip almost too tight, growing more and more desperate for comfort, finally regaining control of the rapid thumping in his chest. he kisses markus more slowly, tenderly, resolutely. there’s still a whimper building in the back of his throat. when his thoughts find markus’s own, he sounds small.
« i’m so scared — that she’ll try to take control again. that i’ll see her again a - and i won’t know imagination from reality. i - i had to tell you, markus. i need you to know that i won’t let her harm you. i won’t let her control me again. i - i love you, markus. »
at least your “stupidity” has never gotten anyone killed, he thinks; thinks back to Carl, don’t defend yourself, Josh, none of this would have happened if we’d just stayed quiet, thinks that maybe both of them were right.
What’s the point of being free if no one is left alive?
I’m so sorry, he thinks, even as Connor’s voice ( finally ) returns to his mind, calls him back from the brink.
Why should he be alive when so many others are dead? What sort of leader just stands there and watches his people be gunned down in the name of “peace”? ( He thinks back to the junkyard, to the memory that he didn’t share with Connor, to the android who begged Markus to kill him / thinks back to how sick and horrified he felt, backing away from him, shaking his head. I---I can’t. I’m sorry. )
He can’t even hurt someone who asks him to.
Why was he ever expected to lead an army?
Connor breaks the kiss, pulls away, and Markus immediately feels so cold / so empty / so afraid / that his arms ‘round Connor’s back tighten, and mismatched eyes open slowly ( — as though it might be anyone else sitting on his lap in this dark hotel room. ) In the light of Connor’s yellow LED, he makes out tear tracks staining his cheeks, and his heart leaps into his throat as he brings a hand forward to smooth them away with the pad of a thumb.
Spoken aloud, in a hope that his actual voice might ground Connor — but Connor just surges forward, kisses him again, with a feverish desperation that feels like hands clawing at his eyes, his clothes, his arms and legs, dangerous. ( Why does Connor feel dangerous? Why does Markus feel afraid? )
I love you, I love you, I love you —
« Connor, hey. Take it easy for a second. Everything’s all right. »
I’m so sorry. I have to tell you about —
Connor’s hand on his face, android white, and Markus’s vision fades into a memory that is not his own: the Zen Garden, the android “mind palace” — a location that Markus has never personally visited, but is familiar with. ( Before you, it was my only escape. Thank you, Markus. Thank you. ) There’s a woman here whom he does not recognize, but seems to know Connor quite well — watches him with a scowl and a furrowed brow.
We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program.
« — “resume control”? Connor, what is—? »
— not fair! Connor cries out, blinded and buffeted by a chill that even Markus can feel, scrambling through the snow, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs,
and now he sees himself, standing on stage, delivering his final address, Connor’s hand aiming a gun ——— at him.
I’ve been given orders to take you alive, but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.
Evidently, now they’ve reached “no choice”.
Markus circles fingers ‘round Connor’s wrist, pleading, and he wonders if that’s the only reason why Connor removes his hand, settles it atop Markus’s shoulder. ( He can feel himself crying, now, finally understands why Connor has felt so “far away”. ) Connor ducks his head to kiss him again, but the pressure of his lips against Connor’s own is lackluster at best.
I’m so scared that she’ll try to take control again. I had to tell you, Markus. I need you to know that I won’t let her harm you. I won’t let her control me again. I love you, Markus.
He just feels sick all over again, breaks the kiss to glance toward the gun that he’d only moments before so casually tossed atop the bed, extends a hand to push it onto the floor with a frustrated whine.
❝ What does she think killing me now would do?! ❞ he asks no one in particular. ❝ The war is over. Even if I die, the message is out there. People won’t lie down anymore. ❞
He meets Connor’s eyes again —
and, despite everything, he still can’t stand to see him look so broken.
❝ I trust you, Connor — and, I love you. No slave of Kamski’s in your head is gonna change that. ❞ Hands on Connor’s shoulders, now, gently urging him to lie on his back — with Markus hovering over him, kissing him with a renewed fire. « Together, we can figure anything out. Remember? » He pulls a hand down Connor’s chest, stops at the waist of his pants. « Now — no more talking, and definitely no more crying. Tonight, we’re gonna make love, and we’re gonna be happy. We both more than deserve it. »
He moves his kisses down to Connor’s throat, gently presses the heel of his hand below Connor’s hips. ( Androids don’t feel pain, but pleasure is a different story. )
« I want you, Connor — all of you. Now, and forevermore. »
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