Markus had never seen a cow up close. Her nose looked wide and squishy, and the little mop of hair on her head was oddly charming. She chewed slowly on something, seemingly unbothered by an android peering through the fence at her.
The owner of the farm had been surprisingly welcoming. When Markus had explained he’d never been to a farm, she’d happily invited him to stay and look around. He’d bought a round of her specialty cheese as thanks. He couldn’t eat it, but he could give it to one of the people he’d met so far that could, and it was a fair exchange. Once he’d realized he was going to stick around for a few hours, he’d sent Connor a message. An invitation to join him.
He had questions, of course. About how the events at Cyberlife had played out and about Connor in general. But he hoped to get there naturally. Connor was an unknown in so many ways and Markus was compassionate enough to tread carefully. He waited by the fence line, eventually sticking his hand through, palm up. The cow stopped chewing long enough to snuff at his fingers and he smiled.
Connor was a swirl of emotions. He didn't know how to handle all of them, as intense as they were, and ironically the very cause of them--Markus--was the one person most qualified to help him through it. Connor knew that he would answer his questions if he asked, but he also felt like he had no right to ask.
He'd been designed to kill Markus and the others. Connor couldn't get past that.
He knew, eventually, that he would need to. Before he'd been sent to that haunted house last week, Hank had spoken to him about it a bit, going over the basics on how to deal with trauma. It had been an interesting conversation to have since Connor had the textbook training on dealing with trauma victims and Hank had years of experience firsthand with it. They'd talked their way around it in circles many times before Hank had finally just settled for being frustrated and telling Connor that when he was ready to talk about it, he would be there.
Connor had been grateful, and now he regretted not taking Hank up on the offer sooner.
He approached Markus slowly, taking careful steps in the grass. He felt so out of place in 'civilian' clothing, but it was far more fitting than the outdated attire the house had put him in. He took a deep breath he didn't need, then approached the other android with what he hoped was a calm smile. "Markus? I hope I did not keep you waiting long?"
“Of course not.” Markus glanced over his shoulder at Connor and smirked. “You’re not on the clock, Connor.” He turned his gaze back to the cow, who was already a little bored with his hand seeing as it didn’t have anything to eat in it. He scratched down the center of her face anyway, before drawing his hand back to himself.
“Have you ever seen a cow up close? I knew the basic facts of course...average height, weight, general behavior. I can pull up a butcher’s diagram in a fraction of a second.” Leaning against the fence, he turned sideways to stare at Connor. He was oddly glad for the strange human clothes. It left Connor looking touchable in a way his pristine Cyberlife uniform never would. Less the hunting machine, and more the deviant renegade. “No one told me they were...soft.”
Connor watched him as he pet the cow, marveling at the idea that android hands could be so gentle when his own had done such horrible things. The animal seemed to appreciate the interaction too, and Connor was smiling a bit more genuinely now even if he didn't realize it himself. It was a comfort having Markus there as a stark contrast to the violence he was designed for. Maybe the people in this town they were trapped with could finally begin to see androids as living beings with a good example of one.
Listening to him speak of the animal, Connor wondered if Markus would react the same way to Sumo. "I've found that animals are often far warmer than they are described," Connor told him in agreement. "Not in temperature, but temperament. They...are perceptive in ways that humans are not. And they do not judge androids the same way."
Markus’s smile grew crookedly, a little huff of a laugh breathed through his nose. “Someone sounds fond. I didn’t have much interaction with living animals in Carl’s house.” He glanced back towards the cow and turned to rest his hands on the wood fence. When he leaned close, the cow lifted her nose to snuffle at his face. He laughed, swiping his sleeve across his nose. “I think I’ll enjoy changing that.”
Straightening up, he turned to give Connor his full attention. His smile wavered, but only because concern fought for control of his face. “I hope I didn’t upset your new friend too much last night.”
Fond? Yes, he supposed he was. “I enjoy the company of animals,” Connor agreed. “Though I haven’t been afforded much yet.” He hesitated at Markus’s lopsided grin, an uneven expression he’d only ever seen Markus make. It was a unique feature for an android, and a reminder that Markus was a literal one of a kind.
He took a step forward to stand beside Markus, bringing his own hand out to touch the cow. Connor’s palm was gentle there against its neck, not hesitant but careful. “Dolores has been abused far more than any Deviant I’ve ever run into,” he explained as he kept his gaze on the cow. “I believe they wiped her memory databanks repeatedly whenever she would begin to deviate. I don’t know what her specific purpose was, but she was meant to entertain humans and they did not treat her well. I do not believe there would have been a better way to approach the subject of what she is. No matter what was said, she would have been upset.”
Connor turned his head to look at Markus. “I am sorry I was unable to warn you before you met her. I would have explained how delicate the situation is…”
While Connor stared at the cow, Markus watched him. He regretted changing the subject. They could’ve stood there and talked about animals for a while. Enjoyed the peaceful sounds of the farm. But that wouldn’t have stopped the truth of Dolores from existing or Connor from carrying the weight of that knowledge. Markus held Connor’s gaze with an empathetic stare when he spoke.
“That’s horrible. It would explain her defenses. I couldn’t get through.” He twisted back towards the fence, shoulder to shoulder with Connor and soberly quiet for a moment. “Anyway, it’s not your fault I rushed into a situation unprepared.” His tone was lighter, self-deprecating, but he kept his gaze on the cow. “It’s nice that you’re watching out for her, though.”
Connor wasn't sure if they were defenses or if Dolores was actively rewriting her code to remain in denial. If it was the later, he was incredibly jealous of her ability to do so.
"I should have warned you," Connor insisted quietly, looking almost ashamed now. Like he'd failed another mission. For all of the other android's insistence he wasn't on the clock Connor had a hard time punching out so to speak. He did better with orders, with a purpose, and he'd assigned himself the purpose of protecting Dolores from herself even though it wasn't his responsibility.
"I knew you would want to free her," he added. "It's what you do. It's...admirable, please don't misunderstand my worry, but she is...complicated. I do believe, however, now that you are here, she can find peace. If anyone can help her, it's you."
The frown Markus leveled at Connor was half genuine dismay and half amusement. For the most advanced prototype of their world, Connor seemed to be utterly blind to his own triumphs. In Detroit, he’d said you did it, with thousands of freed androids at his back like he hadn’t just achieved the impossible himself. Now here was, acting like Markus was the end all, be all of android freedom.
“You realize you’ve freed more androids than I ever have now, right?” Markus snorted. “You two seem...close? If you haven’t managed to get through to her, then I don’t know why you think I’ll do any better.”
"I...had a mission, and I accomplished it," Connor reasoned, frowning a bit as he thought back to the tower, how things had gone.
He ignored Markus's comment about being close to Dolores, not wanting to touch on that now, worried about what he might even call it if they did speak of it. Instead, he kept his focus on the night he'd freed the Cyberlife androids.
"They woke up another Connor model," he explained quietly, his tone a bit shaky. He didn't like thinking about this. "He was going to kill Hank." Connor frowned even more when he realized his own wording--he'd called the other Connor 'he' not 'it.' It hadn't even been Deviant yet. Had it? But there had been moments, flickers of anger and changes in its LED that made Connor wonder.
Had he killed another living android?
Markus lifted his eyebrows at Connor’s first response. The subject matter was too serious to tease him about it, but eventually, this I always accomplish my mission mentality deserved a good prodding. Not now though. Markus tilted his head and listened to Connor’s unsteady offering instead.
“This happened when you went back to Cyberlife?” It seemed obvious, talking about the results of going back leading to talking about the attempt itself, but Markus was off-kilter, by Connor’s tone and by the image of him having to face down his own countenance. “Hank. Your partner, right? The one who was at the Eden Club.” The Tracis that escaped that encounter had talked about the Lieutenant as well as Connor. Markus leaned a little closer in his earnest concern. “Is he all right?”
"My partner," Connor agreed, his tone almost mournful. He wondered now if he'd ever even see Hank again. Hopefully the man wasn't drowning himself in a bottle at his absence.
Connor looked at the cow instead when Markus's gaze seemed to intensify towards him. He recognized it was concern, but he still felt he did not deserve it from the Deviant leader. It was probably a feeling he'd never get over.
"He's fine," he added, realizing that Markus had asked him a question. "At least he was before I ended up wherever that mansion was. I can only hope he remains so back home."
He fell quiet for a moment as he thought about it all, the feelings that had followed that experience--the fears. "I never dreamed before that night," Connor explained. "Not...in a way that mattered." He considered Amanda a dream in hindsight since she'd just been programming in his head. "But after that, I had nightmares. The scenario kept replaying in my mind. I failed a thousand different ways a thousand different times over and over again. Hank was killed, the androids there left shackled, and our people suffered because I could not accomplish what I was meant to." He breathed in, a habit he noticed he'd picked up since coming here, maybe because he could finally be outside again in fresh air. "I do better with a purpose."
It wasn’t exactly a shock that Connor’s return to Cyberlife had left trauma in its wake. Markus had been surprised the android had gotten out in one piece to begin with. But here was the proof that he hadn’t. The damage was simply deeper than could be seen at first glance. Markus lifted a hand off the fence and rested it on Connor’s shoulder.
[Memory Archive Accessed: Woodward Church, Nov 10 2038, 8:24p] [Markus with his hand on Connor’s shoulder, sending him off to certain death. “Be careful.”]
“That’s a heavy weight on already burdened shoulders,” Markus frowned. He wasn’t immune to hypocrisy. “I wonder, do you let yourself replay the scenario where you got it right? The one where you abandoned everything you knew? Where you apparently saved your partner, and then thousands of your people? Where you came back to us alive and with an army at your back?” He squeezed Connor’s shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed together and his gaze empathetic. “I respect your need for a purpose, Connor. I just hope there’s room in it for recognizing your achievements. And letting yourself fail.”
Connor looked down at where Markus's hand rested on his shoulder. How he could so easily touch someone who had been created to destroy him was beyond the android, but Connor didn't say anything about it. The last time he'd done so had been a goodbye, the final goodbye Connor had thought.
He'd been wrong.
He lifted his gaze back to the other android's face as he spoke of scenarios where he got things right. "There was no right, I was designed to fail," Connor whispered. There were tears in his eyes. He thought there were anyway, because his vision was blurred as he stared at Markus and his bottom lip trembled as he tried not to blurt out the truth. "I did fail," he explained. "Cyberlife created me to become Deviant. They were...they broke through. I failed because they always wanted me to get close to you. You were giving your speech, Markus, and I was meant to kill you. They regained control." He trembled a little bit as he remembered it, the zen garden so cold, the wind and snow against his face where he felt it like for the first time like he had real skin. He’d fought with every last bit of strength he had, making his way through the icy path towards the backdoor Kamski had warned him about, and there had been a jolt of real pain when he’d placed his hand against the stone there and Markus had never known any of this.
“I stood there, and I smiled at you, and all the while I was meant to kill you,” he confessed. He hadn’t, obviously, he’d overcome that programming, beaten the coding, but it had happened. Connor feared it could happen again.
Startled by the emotional response, Markus pressed a steadying hand to the back of Connor’s neck instead of his shoulder. But as he pieced the story together, his confusion and disquiet made him let go. He didn’t put distance between them, merely frowned and shook his head.
“I don’t understand. They can’t program deviancy...Even if they could, why would they risk letting you get so far when there were at least a half-dozen opportunities to finish me off long before my speech?” Markus wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince, but it felt important to shake his head harder, to grip the fence with both hands and speak with conviction. The cow looked indifferent, being the accidental focus of the sentiment that followed. “No. You protected me at Jericho. Whatever they did to you, I don’t believe it was all some master plan.” His head turned sharply and he stared at Connor. “What happened? When they regained control?”
There was a real comfort in the way Markus's hand felt against his neck, and Connor closed his eyes for a moment. But they snapped open at the sudden shift in the other android's tone and the loss of that hand against his skin.
He felt shame settle in. Yes, that had to be what this emotion was. It had to be because his first reaction was wanting to bury his head in the sand and hide.
[Software instability^^]
But there was no hiding from Markus, and the way he was staring at him now, demanding answers. He had every right to demand them, of course, but Connor felt a bit cornered. He wondered suddenly if this was what it felt like to be interrogated when you were guilty.
"I was never a real Deviant," Connor replied quietly, turning his gaze towards his feet. "When they regained control of me, they expected to use the androids I'd freed in the tower against you. I found a way out, a backdoor in the program, but I was never a real Deviant. I'm sorry, Markus. I know what a disappointment that makes me."
“Connor.” Markus took a heavy breath. It wasn’t necessary by any means, but it helped cool the components that were heating up from this exchange. “I know what I saw in your eyes. At Jericho, at the church.” He leaned over, trying to put himself back in Connor’s line of sight so that he would hear him and truly listen. “You were your own person then and you’re your own person now.”
When he straightened back up, it was with a frustrated wave of his arm. “Obviously! If you managed to fight them off and regain control of yourself.” He hoped he got to see Cyberlife self-destruct in the wake of android rebellion. They deserved a great deal worse.
Connor startled a bit at the last declaration, because he could see the conflicting logic in his own last statement when Markus put it that way. "Obviously," he whispered in reply, looking up at Markus since the other android seemed to want him to. Still trying his best to please whoever he thought was in charge, a basis for his entire program. Connor hated himself for it more than ever now, because Markus's emotional reaction was proof enough he didn't appreciate the habit.
He felt his thirium pump increase in speed, pounding inside his chest as his vision went from blurry almost to red, and Connor didn't have the experience to recognize that this new emotion was rage. His hands were in furious fists at his sides as he thought about Amanda, about the other activated Connor that had tried to kill Hank, arms trembling a bit. If he unleashed his energy he could do some real damage, and the cow nearby seemed to know that inherently, shifting where she stood while watching him with a wide eye.
[//error: Sensory overload]
[Recommended Action: Immediate shut down and reboot.]
"Then why do I feel like I failed?" he asked Markus.
“I don’t know.” Markus recognized the signs of extreme stress in Connor’s body language even before sensor readings flickered across his HUD in warning. But he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t a large part of the cause. “You were created to set things in order,” he whispered. “And instead you joined the side that changed everything forever. Maybe you’ll always feel like you have unfinished business, as long as I’m alive.”
It felt self-centered to say it like that, and Markus regretted it immediately. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I think you’re the only person who can decide why you feel like you failed.”
He looked at Markus like he wasn't sure he'd heard him quite right. The idea that he might still kill Markus one day was terrifying. He had nightmares about it too, but he wasn't going to tell the other android about that. Not now. Not when Markus clearly knew he was still a threat to him on some level.
Markus recognized it, but he was still there, and Connor took a step back away from him.
"I didn't fail because I didn't kill you," Connor assured him, shaking his head a bit. "I failed because I didn't eliminate the threat, and even now I know I should, but I'm afraid."
“That’s not--” Markus frowned at Connor creating space between them and started to bridge the gap before stopping himself . “What threat? Cyberlife?” He knew immediately that was wrong. It made sense, after all; Connor was both a deviant hunter and one of the most deviant of androids alive.
“You mean yourself.” He did step forward more fully now, not crowding Connor but not letting him retreat either. He needed to show that he wasn’t afraid. “You fought off an infiltration inside of you and you still don’t trust yourself?”
Markus read him well, and he couldn't even fault him in that, knowing he'd all but said it directly enough. Only another deviant android would understand his dilemma, and Markus seemed empathetic about it. He hadn't expected that reaction, although he should have.
"How can I?" Connor asked him quietly. His hands were trembling a bit again, still in fists at his sides, but not from rage anymore. His LED shifted from blue to red, no yellow in between. Connor was fucking terrified.
"I was created to break android laws under the disguise of destroying my own kind," he reminded Markus. "You weren't their first goal, you were simply the last. There were so many others before you, before the Tracis...I killed repeatedly. Their quality control tests involved gunning down YK500's simply to see if I would follow the command, then sending me into high stress situations to save them. I was an anomaly from the beginning, my programming hypocritical. I didn't...I couldn't..." He fell quiet, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath--something he'd ironically seen Gavin, of all people, do when he was trying to keep himself from overreacting. It had rarely worked for the asshole cop, but maybe it would work for him.
When he opened them again his LED changed to yellow. “I am a weapon, Markus. How can I ever be anything else?”
Markus was glad he’d removed his own LED. It wasn’t the first time either, but it seemed especially noteworthy now, when the image of androids being executed spiked all of his internal monitoring into the red. The memory of a street full of slaughtered androids, the memory of Simon left bleeding on a rooftop never to be seen again…
It may not have shown in a violently red circle at his forehead, but it still made him take a shaky inhale and blink rapidly until his eyelashes finally stilled against his cheeks.
“We’re deviants, Connor.” Markus opened his mismatched eyes once he was sure his own grief wouldn’t be so glaringly obvious. “Our programming only defines us as much as we let it.” He touched Connor’s forearm, just the light press of fingers to his sleeve. “I believe you’re more than just a weapon. Do you think I’m nothing more than a servant?”
Markus was angry, and Connor knew he had every right to be, but it still...bothered him? He wasn't sure what the emotion he was feeling was. He wanted to hide again.
[//error: error. error. error.]
[Recommended Action: Immediate shut down and reboot.]
We're deviants. Connor's gaze flickered towards Markus at the words. He still wasn't used to being referred to as an equal of the android in front of him.
[error. error. error.]
"Markus--" He fell quiet when he felt Markus's hand against his arm, and Connor stilled because the error message disappeared and an odd calm came over him. He leaned into Markus's touch a bit, holding his gaze like those mismatched eyes were the only thing keeping him grounded.
“You are so much more,” Connor replied quietly. He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so earnest, but it had.
A soft smile tilted Markus’s mouth and he wrapped his hand around Connor’s forearm more fully, squeezing there. “I wish you were as kind to yourself as you are to others.”
He let his gaze roam over Connor’s face for a moment, like it would provide some enlightenment into how to bring him peace. Eventually, the cow mooed, breaking his concentration. He let go and looked back towards the fence.
“I would’ve killed you too, you know,” Markus admitted quietly. “If you’d stood your ground. Everyone can be deadly, even a so-called pacifist.” A heavy exhale did nothing to ease his equally heavy heart. “I think you’re strong enough to be the person you want to be and not the one you’re afraid you’ll be…but you have to believe it too.”
The way Markus looked at him now was terrifying because no one dared look at him this closely. Aside from Hank, but that had been different somehow. Connor wasn't sure how yet. His programming gave him no social basis for why it might be, and he didn't question it.
When the animal made noise and Markus stepped back, Connor opened his mouth to say something. But Markus was revealing a truth he had no suspected before he could speak. The idea of Markus hurting anyone was so strange to him, yet it made perfect sense.
"To protect our people," he reasoned. "I'm glad I didn't force you to make that choice."
Strength was relative, and Connor realized what he was saying. "I'm trying," he assured Markus. "Hank insisted I believe it just as you do, but it's difficult, even with control over my programs now, it's...I don't know how to explain it. Old habits perhaps?"
Markus nodded slowly and linked his hands together where they rested over the fence. “It’s okay to be afraid, to doubt. It’s more than okay. It proves you’re a person and not just a machine.” Connor’s words earlier rested uneasily at the back of his processes though, and the sidelong look Markus gave him was beseeching as a result.
“When your doubts get especially strong, just...don’t do anything you can’t undo.” It might have sounded more like an order than a request. Speaking of old habits - he needed to work on that. Too much time ordering strong-willed people like North around. “Ah...please don’t do anything you can’t undo,” he clarified with a self-deprecating smile.
Connor's eyebrows raised a bit as he looked at Markus, trying to figure out what he meant. "Markus...are you afraid I meant...I don't plan on hurting anyone here," he assured the other android. Unless his programming was hacked and rewritten he had the free will not to now.
“No, that’s not--” Markus pulled up off the fence and turned fully towards Connor, eyebrows raised. “You said even now you know you should eliminate the threat. So I’m asking you to make sure your plan to not hurt anyone includes not hurting yourself.”
Oh that was not what he expected. He smiled, then realized that was the wrong reaction. "I apologize," Connor told him quickly. "I smile because I worried after Hank in the same way." Hank had been suicidal up until the very last moment he'd seen him, and Connor hadn't realized that there was a weight to that worry until he'd known Hank was okay.
"I will not self destruct unless I put people in danger otherwise," Connor assured him.
It wasn’t quite the promise Markus was hoping for, but it was likely as good as he was going to get. He didn’t really have much room to ask anyway, between their fledgling friendship and the fact that he had let Connor go off on a suicide mission with hardly any resistence.
His chin dropped and he flashed a complicated smile with his eyes closed. “Okay. Thank you.”
Seemingly annoyed with the length of the conversation, the cow bumped up against the fence and nipped at Markus’s sleeve. As he drew away in surprise, his would-be assassin tried to take a bite out of Connor instead.
Markus snagged Connor by the shoulder and pulled him back a step. “We may have overstayed our welcome.”
Connor looked at the animal and studied her for a moment. "She needs to be milked," he concluded. "Her irritation has little to do with us." But he got the point, and he didn't fight it when Markus pulled him away a bit.
"I feel as though this entire town is far more welcoming than the house we were in before, even if it is odd," Connor added, glancing at Markus. "We seem to be in far less danger here, and the humans surrounding us are under far less stress so far."
He looked around, marveling at how peaceful it almost seemed in that moment. "I do appreciate your worrying after me," he assured the other android. "It will simply take some getting used to before I no longer feel like a burden because of it," he explained apologetically. "I thank you in advance for your patience, and the patience you've already shown."
“You don’t have to thank me for me treating you with basic decency, Connor.” Markus darted back to the fence only long enough to grab the wrapped block of cheese before the cow decided that was something worth chewing on too. “I’m just glad you’re willing to open up about these things.” The smile he gave Connor was elastic and lightweight.
“What do you say we walk around the farm for a bit before heading back?” He held up the block of cheese. “Then you can help me decide what to do with this thing.”
Connor still felt that he did, but he wouldn't argue it. It seemed to upset Markus too much he was noticing.
"Normally I might suggest eating it, but I think we're going to have to get creative," Connor told him, smiling just a bit as he turned away from the cow to start walking. While he wasn’t exactly relaxed--Connor wasn’t sure he was capable of such a thing--his smile was far more genuine now than it had been at the beginning of their conversation.