Chapter Text
“So you’re just letting us go?”
The officer’s voice was muffled through his mask. It was somewhat intimidating, “President’s orders. No riots, no propaganda, no funny business. Do I make myself clear?”
The redheaded android scowls at the man, Nines recognised the look of distaste immediately. He’d seen it a countless number of times on Gavin’s face. It was the look he gave him. He felt himself imitate the same wonky snarl and frown; it should look natural that way.
“Clear.”
The officers parted and made a path to nothing in particular. Freedom, supposedly. The androids formed a group, some still holding hands in solidarity, and pushed through. Each one of them looked exhausted, Nines didn’t think that was even possible. He followed them. He caught a glimpse of Gavin off to the side, the man didn’t spare him a glance, he looked pissed at the fact the SWAT didn’t just gun the group down. That was understandable.
Nines had grown to learn that Gavin’s hatred for android was deep-rooted enough to affect his every opinion. His attitude soured more than usual when the pair spoke and Gavin made no exceptions; he hated every machine equally. It was almost jarring. Their partnership was weak and built on petty remarks, but if that’s what kept him by Nines’ side it would have to do.
“Where is Markus?” He heard his own voice as he looked down at the redheaded android. She was insignificant compared to the great RA9. Nines had retained most of Connor’s memories, he remembered that Markus had been a gift to Carl Manfred, a gentle android turned violent deviant due to rage. He needed to find out why. And then he needed to kill him.
She looks around in the crowd, searching for a moment before her eyes rest a few rows behind Nines. He turns too.
The RK200 no longer looks as Connor’s memories portray. His eyes are sunken, his shoulders are on an awkward angle and upon analysis he sports more spare parts than original. His defeat is palpable, but so is his determination to stay alive. Maybe not for his original cause, but for something.
Nines falls back a few steps to address the deviant, who is leaning on another for support. His leg seems to be twisted at an angle, or his motor wires damaged.
“You are the founder of New Jericho?”
“No... No.” His voice is gruff too, more mechanical than anticipated. He seems just like a frail old man, not the fearless leader he once was. Nines registered symptoms of PTSD. “That was North’s idea.”
“North?”
Markus looks up, his eyes meet with the redhead’s. For a moment Nines is lost in the affection their expressions display. It’s sickening how real it seems. He speaks again.
“She took up leadership when everyone thought I was dead.”
Nines remembers now. Connor following her into the Cyberlife store, his gun trained on her. She said something, the files were hazy. Then she shot him. He was replaced of course, but the hesitation was inexcusable.
“I owe her my life.”
Nines turns back to Markus, who now has a sad smile on his face.
“I see.”
-
Gavin tore his jacket off and threw it at the coat stand. He didn’t wait to see if it hung or not, just kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the couch in his apartment with a groan.
His cat mewed and nudged at his feet.
“Hey Tits.”
Another meow. Probably hungry. He’d been gone a lot longer than usual. With another dramatic groan, he got back up and trudged to the kitchen.
Charity, affectionately deemed ‘Tits’, was an old black cat Gavin had adopted unofficially after feeding it as a stray for months. She wasn’t the most intelligent companion, but she stuck by him. Miles better than an android.
He peeled back the lid on a tin of sardines and offered it to the cat, who started munching on the top two fish instantly.
“What do you think about all this huh?” He let out a sigh, “Pairing me with an entitled fucking plastic prick. You know he wouldn’t even let me drive my own fucking car tonight, I didn’t even drink that much!”
The cat obviously did not reply.
“I want to punch his stupid god damn face. Like all the time. Strangle the motherfucker. He’s so-” He groans. Charity decides she’s had enough and walks off with a content purr. “God what am I even doing? I need a smoke.”
-
An abandoned holiday park. That’s where the group ends up, splitting off into small groups in each caravan. Ironic, this is far from a holiday. A campfire lights most of them, a few androids are still sat around it despite not needing the heat. Something about spirit and comradery Nines was sure.
“Do you need help taking that off?”
“What?” He looked back down at North, who gestured to his LED. “No. I would like to keep it. Please.”
“Why?” She raises an eyebrow, suspicious.
Come up with a believable excuse in the next 3 seconds Nines. You need to blend in, gain their trust, gather intel. You can report back to Cyberlife with more information on deviants this way too.
“I do not know.”
Smooth.
North gives him an odd look, but a voice from behind interrupts.
“North you bunk with me and John.” Nines turns to look at Markus, who has fashioned some kind of cane out of an old umbrella. It was odd seeing a machine with so much influence looking so... human. “Do you have anywhere to sleep Connor?”
Nines blinks, “No. And My name is Nines.”
“Oh. Sorry you just reminded me of-”
North interrupts, “There are sleeping bags in some of the cupboards, he can set up outside.”
“North-”
Nines doesn’t miss the exchange of looks. He’s not trusted here.
Markus nods, “Do you mind Nines?”
“No.”
-
Morning seemed to take forever to come around. Nines had spent the night sat upright in a moth-eaten sleeping bag that barely covered his legs analysing every inch of the site and racking his memory files for information on the deviants.
He knew Markus had lost most of his allies. There was a PL600 that seemed significant. Connor had found out about the Jericho organisation through it, moments before he felt it shut down. A PJ500 appeared a few times: breaking into the news building, arguing with Markus, pushing cars and building barriers. Then there was North. Fearless and unashamedly violent in her pursuit of freedom. She wanted war where Markus wanted peace and would do anything to liberate her people. Including shooting Connor without hesitation the moment he spared her. In a way, she reminded him of Gavin.
He was sure Gavin wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his head.
-
The office was beautiful without Nines polluting it. Even the piles of paperwork on Gavin’s desk began to look appealing in comparison. His head was pounding, but he’d chugged a diet coke and some aspirin before he left so that would subside soon enough. Fowler was finally off his back after Perkins had explained the situation in a strongly worded email, and to top it all of Tina was stood in front of him holding out a hot cup of coffee.
“Oh Tina, the things I would do to you in the dark.” he growls and takes the coffee, savouring the first sip as if it were wine.
“Yeah yeah, I know.” She pauses, “I heard your friend’s on field duty?”
“I hope he dies on it.”
“He? Oh Gav, you’ve gone soft on him.”
Gavin glares at her over the rim of the cup, but he can’t bring himself to argue. His head would split into a much worse pain if he dared raise his voice.
“So, how’s the vegan?”
“What? Sophia?” Tina snorted. “Still shaken up about you like... nearly dying, y’know.”
“Tell her I’m fine. Peachy.”
“I have. Trust me.”
Gavin groans and leans back in his chair, Tina sits on the edge of his desk. “How are you holding up?” Her eyes flicker briefly to his neck where the bruises had previously tainted his skin. They were faint enough now that only by staring could you see the damage.
“Much better now that prick’s gone.”
“I’m guessing your little bonding exercise didn’t work then?”
Gavin scoffed, “Well. He can do 300 yoga poses and can’t fuck a woman.”
“Are those two things related?”
The two of them laugh. Nines’ absence was so fucking freeing he could have exploded with joy on the spot. Although he wouldn’t burden Tina with that kind of cleanup.
“So, he could fuck a man then?”
Gavin grimaced, “Oh please, that thing is disgusting enough without being gay too.”
Tina stared at him.
“What?” Gavin stared back, then tutted and rolled his eyes, “Oh Tina you’re like... different gay.”
She raises an eyebrow. Gavin waves a hand.
“Whatever, you know what I mean. I just- don't want to imagine-” He grimaces again, apparently already imagining a little too much.
Tina laughs at that, “I’m kidding idiot, I don’t give a fuck what you think about me.”
“Good cause I hate you.”
“Love you too.”
“Fuck you.”